Ugh.


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I’m frustrated.  I’ve been doing so well in treatment. Yesterday was a really FUN day. During breakfast, we were all very giggly and just cracking jokes and feeling good. I had a few speedbumps throughout the day, but I got over them, which is what I need to remind myself. I also met with Bruce (nutritionist) and he said I’m gaining lean muscle mass and losing body fat (that’s good). Then after we got out of program, Shannon and I went out for a bit to Hobby Lobby, Wegmans, and Walmart. We rented ‘The Strangers’ and it was totally scary. We were basically shouting at the TV. Then, this morning we had day program, and Jon took us out to Corning to this place called Earth, Paint and Fire, where you pick a ceramic piece and paint it, and they fire it and you get it back like a week later. It was really fun. I painted a cheerleader, and I think she might come out looking like me. We’ll see. After that we went to a cafe, and I’m not a cafe person AT ALL. That was a big challenge for me. I didn’t do great. I planned on salvaging the rest of the day though. After that we drove back to the Hoffman House, and I packed up my things and drove home. It was nice to get here and see my puppy, and my mom. We went to Target and then Friendly’s – I did better there as far as eating goes. When we got back to my house I just hung out and relaxed and caught up on some TV shows that I had my mom tape for me this past week. I thought about going out to the clubs and bars tonight to see some friends, but I’m feeling kind of triggered. I was changing into comfy clothes, and caught a glimpse of myself in a big mirror. Even though Bruce said I haven’t gained weight, my stomach looks different. My hip bones are barely visible any more, and I’ve been able to see them for … my whole life. It makes me want to go back to restricting. I just hate this disease. Its so much more than not wanting to get fat. I’m angry at myself because one part of me knows its not worth it to go back to that way of thinking, because I feel really good doing what I’m supposed to, but “Ed” just keeps talking in my head. I’m going to be stuck in this treatment forever. I wan’t my old body back, on the outside. In my eyes my belly looks like a little child from Ethiopia’s does. Where did my hip bones go? Those are my favorite. They make me … me. I hope tomorrow when I wake up I’m able to follow through and fight these triggering thoughts.

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