water aerobics

almost a full week in georgia. it's gone by shockingly fast despite the lack of activity. it was sad to leave kate and the kittens in new york, but i am quite glad to see these women i have missed so much. i worry about saying too much. i feel like so much of my summer has revolved around renfrew, but i don't want to constantly bring it up just to tell i story or attempt a laugh. i'm terrible with boundaries, sometimes i feel it might be best if i say nothing at all.

i'm missing my renfrew loves so much that my heart hurts. i want to be there for all of them, and at times i'm afraid to share my pain and concerns because i don't want to burdon them - even though i know that if i were in their place, i would want to know. i just hate being the focus of things. i'm trying my best to believe that i can't help others until i help myself.

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i'm having a rough time with school scheduling and such. because the last couple semesters were terrible (for lack of a more descriptive word), i'm behind credit wise and am not considered to be a junior. while this isn't the biggest deal in the world, it hurts my pride. i had high expectations for myself.

i'm hiding from the storm till the damage gets done

happy birthday?
i'm not so sure.
bad birthday?
not at all

on and off

the past few days have been rough. I'm really glad to be in the city, but I've been having a hard time getting out of bed and eating. The worst part is that I beat myself up for not being able to get up. Self hatred is such a self perpetuating cycle. Fortunately there are small kittens around for amusement.

the cranberry juice here just isn't the same

Two and a half weeks.
It's really hard for me to hear about these girls that I really care about struggling. I definitely want to hear it if it's true, it just makes me so sad. It's interesting how so many of us have a hard time dealing with other people being in pain, but we (especially I) put ourselves through pain needlessly.
I wish I knew the things to say to help. I know that I can't "fix" people, but I've always been someone who just wants other people to be happy. Some of my earliest memories are of praying for other people to be healthier and happier. On my birthdays, I would wish for my little brother to have a happy childhood, and at a really young age I remember asking God to kill me instead of my dogs sick puppies. I didn't want to die, I just hated to see the pain they were going through. Visiting my grandfather in the hospital was really hard on me, and I do feel guilty for not seeing him more. It seems that sometimes my longing for others to be well can end up making me feel worse.
There are so many girls I met at Renfrew that it pained me to see having a hard time or crying. I know that often times tears can be a good thing, I just wish that I could do something so that they don't have a reason to cry.
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I'm looking forward to going to school. I think that the structured meals will be really good for me, because I've definitely had problems sticking to this meal plan. I'm just so tired of food, it's hard to eat when you're never hungry-especially when you have to fix the food for yourself. I really really do want to get through this. I was talking to my therapist about being afraid of having to return to some sort of residential treatment and she pointed out that eating disorders are in some ways like addictions and that for most alcoholics it takes an average of three treatments for them to really recover. I don't want to settle on the fact that I don't have to get better now because the odds aren't really on my side, but I hope that if it comes to be a necessity that I'll be able to look past my pride and realize that it's not a failure. I feel like I'm failing. I feel like I'm rambling.
I'm kind of lonely

i must learn to love the fool in me

it's hard to believe that it's been almost two weeks since I left treatment. on one hand time has seemed to pass relatively quickly but on the other each day seems so long and I feel like I haven't seen those girls I love in such a long time.
I'm having trouble sticking with my "meal plan". I caught in the struggle of whether or not I should be spending my time making sure I meet my exchanges or whether or not I should just eat as I please. Sometimes I tell myself that it shouldn't really matter as long as I don't purge. I guess, in those times it seems rational. Yeah, it's big step... but could I really say that I'm recovering if I don't fight it all? I just imagine that over time the restricting would be so much worse. I haven't been hungry in over a month - I'm sure this is due to the fact that I was somewhat forcefed large amounts for five weeks. I don't enjoy food. Before I left Renfrew I was asked what my favorite food was and I just stared off. Blank. I had to settle for what I used to love, and even the thought of it made me feel ill. That was the night I cried through the cooking group. The night before I left. I bet anyone who saw me then questioned my "progress". Nonetheless, I can't imagine being the college student whose Ensure is in the community refrigerator nor can I imagine that I'll be getting the nutrients I need with out it. I suppose I'll have to spend the next couple of weeks deciding how dedicated I am and how I'm going to show my dedication.
In other news, I went shopping with my aunt and grandmother today. I was so fucking nervous. The last time I went shopping was at the King of Prussia Mall where I had semi-meltdowns in the dressing rooms of Free People and American Apparel. I think it's the masochistic side of me that tries on things that have the most potential to be unflattering. Almost like it's a way to prove that I'm unattractive. I told myself that I wasn't going to buy anything/try anything on today, but I did. I probably shouldn't have. I probably shouldn't fit into the pants that I bought. And I was probably testing myself by even trying on that size... but they did fit and in some way I was proud of myself for even trying them on. And if they happen to not fit in the near future, they were on super clearance so it won't be too bad.
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I can't wait to go to New York to be with my sister. I love my family and I love West Virginia, but there's something in the air here that makes my mind turn. I never feel like I'm in the right place. I wonder if I'll ever change.

it was a big cat

I suppose you could call today an off day.
I woke up late and slept through much of the afternoon. I just don't want to be involved with people, but at the same time I don't want to be alone. It was my best friend from high school's birthday and I was nervous about seeing people post-treatment. A lot of people didn't really know what happened. I ended up not eating dinner, somewhat consciously. I'm just scared, I guess.
At any rate, I went to my friends house, and a couple minutes after I got there an old friend walked in and said "Oh my god, what happened to your arm??". Someone responded that I got into a fight with a cat, I quietly corrected them with "tiger". That was that until the majority of the group left and Chris asked what really happened. I told them they could ask questions if they wanted, but I think everyone is just uncomfortable. I understand that it's unfamiliar territory for a lot of them, but I in turn feel uncomfortable.
Leah called while I was there, a nice escape from the room. I'm so glad that she's opening up to me at times. This girl has been through a lot for someone who's 17. She's not nearly as proud of the work she's done as she should be. So many times I've heard girls with eating disorders say "I wish I could just see it myself" when people say nice things about them. I wonder if it's not that we can't see it, but instead that we've seen it and told ourselves that it's not true enough times that it seems real. Perhaps the logic behind it doesn't matter, and we just need to "fake it until we make it" (as much as I hate that saying).
Leah got me to thinking about how one of my old therapist used to say "it's not who you are, it's just what you're going through" to me all the time. At first I hated it, as I hate many of those cliche psychobabble words and phrases like "self care" and what have you. But with time, I was saying it to myself. I've let my depression, self-injury, and eating disorder define how I view myself for so long. I can't understand why I would let this happen when I know that I would never judge someone else by their past like I judge myself. Sometimes it really helps to just remind myself that it's not who I am. Or maybe, more accurately that I may be those things, but I am also much more. I'm a sister, a friend, a student, a self-injurer and a tree-hugger. I'm an artist, a daughter, an anorexic or bulimic, and a feminist. Somehow, those seemingly negative things tend to outshine the positive or neutral characteristics and from time to time (or all the time) I need to step back and realize that I don't want to limit myself to how I feel or what I've done. I can be more.
Well, I promised Leah I would eat... so it looks like fake hot dogs for me.

breaking down barriers

Third full day away...

I'm trying to set intentions for myself, sort of like the hokey stone welcome in Thursday morning community. First and foremost I intend to stay out of treatment, or perhaps more fittingly I intend to never be in a place where I really need it again. I know that I put my family through hell. They fought so hard for me to stay in treatment and I really could never ask for that again.

On a deeper level, I'm hoping that Renfrew has opened a window for me. In my last art therapy session, we did a piece about hope. My picture (which now lies in the wonderful hands of Leah) is divided by a chain. I was trying to express that I've come to terms with never being one of those solidly happy or content people and that the best I can hope for are some vivid moments -- this realization was come to with much help -- and that I can either turn my depression outward through art and writing and reaching out to people, or I can keep it in like I've done for so long. Thus, I can use the chains to tie myself down or I can use them to symbolize connection with others. My wish is that I will not let the last month go in vain, that I'll keep writing, drawing, and talking.

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I kept a journal the whole time that I was at Renfrew, numbering the days... writing much more on some than others. I'm not sure what my original intentions were. I was unhappy, writing down my weight from each morning weigh-in and scribbling about how I didn't deserve to be there or how guilty I was feeling. I felt like I didn't belong. The only people I had managed to have conversations with were significantly younger than me and for some reason this concerned me. As time passed, I realized that these were the best women I was going to meet.
I'm so grateful that I got to stay as long as I did. I cried a lot, I laughed a lot, I had my shenanigans, but I also made connections that I've never managed to make before. I have always been one of those fortunate people with great, supportive friends. And by no means am I displacing them, my love remains the same. I guess the thing is, I never imagined that I would want any more. I had enough love, I didn't "deserve" (count how many times you hear that word in treatment) any more. But there are a hand full (or two) of women that I met at this place who weaseled their way into my heart.

old but still pertinent?

600 miles from home
25 letters short of a good friend
5 pounds less than I was
15 from where this sick mind longs to be
3 sleeping pills short of a week
10 pages out of a diagnostic manual
2 weeks late on my laundry
And a year and a half past a true felt kiss
I've got too many bookshelves of unfinished books
47, 48, maybe 480 scars past normalcy
7 years of bad luck
And as I sit here, holding 3 paintbrushes incapable of painting
I know the most I'll ever get Is a ticket for my oversized baggage