2005-05-11, 10:39 a.m.
Last week I got my nose pierced, cut my hair short and razored, and dyed it dark. I feel like I'm trying to do something drastic to myself. It still isn't making me feel any better.
On Monday I saw Julio. After my emotional breakdown last Wednesday, he said he wanted to see me following week. I got a call on Friday saying there was a cancelation on Monday in the office that's further away from me, would I like the appointment? I said yes, even though I meant no. I hate driving to that office, and I didn't feel like sitting there told my feelings of wanting to die was something he can't do anything about.
When I got to Julio's, after accidently cutting someone off and being flicked off, I felt suffocated. The waiting room felt stuffy and hot. The normal man behind the desk wasn't there, so I sat in there alone. I picked up a book in the waiting room and defaced the inside with "so, why are you in here?" with my green pen. I checked my cell phone clock, and it was 5:10. Paranoid thoughts raced through my head that Julio wasn't was not there and I didnt have an appointment and I drove all the way there for nothing. It was getting very very hot. I went outside the building and sat on a curb trying to calm down, taking quick short breaths. I then went back inside and rode the elevator up and down till someone accompied me. I went back into Julio's office. 5:20. WTF WHERE IS HE. I hugged my knees and told myself I'll wait till 5:30 then I'm leaving. At 5:25, he emerged.
Our appointment was odd. Maybe I got silly because he shot a rubber band at me while he booked his 4:00oclock appt next appt. But as soon as I got into his office, I began to sputter the truth. "I take this pill and this pill and this diet pill and this caffiene pill..."..... "i just HATE my thighs..they're MONSTEROUS" ... "those girls on the message board, it's so sad, they're just STICK thin and they really see themselves as huge. But I'm not like that." Julio laughes. "NO NO. I know it sounds trite. But really, they're really SICK. WAY eating disordered. I'm not like that." Julio gives me a look. "I'M NOT!"
Julio says to me, "Do you ever listen to yourself and just laugh? Or just cringe? Or say what the hell? Or anything?"
I ignore him and continue bantering on "It use to be a lot worse. Before I was like totally obsessing over food all day. Wake up, plan binges, eat and puke at night, and then repeat. Now it's more spontaneous." Julio asks "Are you puking less than?" ..."Erm, well, not really. Now it's twice a day instead of once. But they're smaller. 'mini binges' if you will. So I don't really even think about what i'm doing. It's over before it's started! Really!"
The rest of the appointment Julio hounds me to go meetings. He says he doesn't want to have to look for treatment centers again and he wants to work with me, and he wants me to go to meetings. I know I sounded crazy...but..erm..it's the truth. Really...
That evening, I found out the college group leader's wife was formerly bulimic. The scary thing is that she tells me it will be a struggle for the rest of your life. It will always be a temptation, though less of one for her now. It confirms my hopeless thinking towards recovery. It confirms my "just want to die" mentalitity. I don't want to live in the shadow of bulimia for the rest of my life.
It's 11:00 AM and I'm thinking of making cookie dough to binge and purge on.