Journal

It's Christmas Eve.  Tomorrowit will be one week since I have binged.  I keep imagining myself doing it.  Especially tomorrow morning when I realize that everyone has someone but me.  I've tried to find other tings to do, but even the places that I usually volunteer are booked.  I hope just the momentum of the almost week behind will propell me past dangerous binge moments.  I have been close several times, but not gone there.  Even today, I ate 3 cookies, the minute I woke up, but didn't binge.  I had bread and an entire meal at Macaroni Gril, but didn't binge.  For the first time in 7 YEARS I ate the entire lovefeast bun at church.  Then Miriam gave me an entire plate for cookies for tomorrow morning, I ate three but then stopped.  And I didn't have to FORCE myself to stop, I just stopped.  I pulled out one of each kind that looked really good and that was three, then I put the plate in the kitchen and I was done.  I don't know if I am done for all night or forever or what, but for now.  

This is major for me.  I haven't been this long in the past two years except for two times.  Once, right after my birthday, I went almost 2 weeks and before that I went without eating anything at all for 9 days.  But then I binged at the end of those 9 days.  Even when I was REALLY anorexic, I ate something everyday, even if it was only 200-300 calories a day, it was something.  Now, I am eating normally.  Sometimes more than I would like, but I am not cringing or avoiding things because of the food.  

I went carolling last night and everyone gave us hot chocolate.  I drank it even though I had no idea if it was made from skim milk or heavy whipping cream.  Then more people offered us hot chocolate and we had some of that too.  It mostly tasted kind of 1%ish.  

Anyway, I am really proud of myself, but I haven't told anyone.  I wanted to, but I couldn't.  Even though I was eating normally at lunch, there is still somthing that makes me the screw up.  

Once, Ava dropped her toy on the floor, so I scooted back to go under the table to get it.  Except, my fat ass moved the table instead of my chair.  A whole glass of ice water spilled into my mom's lap and onto Ava's legs.  I felt horrible.  I cleaned it up, but when Jay got there Mom still managed to bring it up 3 different times.  I ended up in the bathroom crying which messed up my makeup and gave me a headache, but at least no one saw.  If they saw that, they would probably just think I was even more screwed up because I'm "over-sensitive" and "dramatic."  When will I stop being the "sick one" and when will people start to respect me?

Carrie said something to me too, which makes me think.  I'm not sure what to think, but it is kind of.....  odd?....telling?...... something like that.  

She kind of didn't recognize me at first and then when she did she gave me a hug and said, "you change so much every time I see you, it's hard to keep up."  

I replied "yeah, I'm like a toddler."  But I'm 26 years old.  Is that a complement or what.   I don't think she meant it as an insult or anything.  The first time she saw me was when I was in UNC hospitals though, so I was about 80 lbs.  Then last year, when she saw me I was probably about 170 lbs.  Now, I'm maybe 160 or 155 at best, but that's not that much different.  I had my hair down instead of up, but does that change my face that much?    Her comment isn't that big a deal, but it makes me wonder how others see me.