I Need Attention.

You know when you were little (or ahem just out of college without a job) and cleaned your room without being asked?
And the first thing you wanted to do was show your mom how awesome you were?

Or when you go out of your way to help out a stranger and you just feel grand about yourself and you want to tell someone so they can say good job but you don't want to tell anyone because then it takes away from the fact that you did a good thing for 'no reason'?

Well I'm telling you. I'm telling all of you because I want praise! I want to brag! I want you to give me the credit I deserve for being a normal, decent human.

So here goes:

My goodness starts yesterday after leaving The Moore Center (for eating disorders). I hopped on my bike feeling hopeful and raced to catch the bus back home.

We were neck and neck as it was stuck in traffic and I tried my darnedest (? I have never tried spelling that out) to get up that hill without passing out or missing it.

I made it. But only because I pulled this ballsy move of coming up on the left side and then IN FRONT of the bus to show her I was there. I drove across the crosswalk so I thought I was legit. Um no turns out I AM AN IDIOT.

She gave me a lecture and looked at me with complete disgust. I was a dog with my tail between my legs. Once again I deserved the name "Stupid Biker."

On the bus ride I was sitting next to an elderly Indian man who had on a purple scarf. He kept interrupting my raging Excision playlist to ask me questions. I was annoyed at first but then began to calm down. Turns out he had a really good sense of humor and a wonderful accent. I helped him get where he needed to go.

I got off the bus next and the bus driver honked at me to come see her even AFTER I'd left the bus. Oh lord...what did I do now? She then proceeded to apologize for being so short with me. Then somehow I had the guts to thank her for doing so, saying if she hadn't had gotten so mad I don't think it would have stuck in my head that that's just not something you do.

I went and had a kick ass workout and even SMILED at those bitches...ahem...girls that strut...ahem...walk around the gym with their boobs hanging...ahem...their confidence for all to see. Half of them smiled back and I think the others were taken aback by my confidence.

Dinner date happened. I was finally totally honest with how I felt about my and ChaCha's relationship and it turns out I'm just paranoid, insecure, crazy oh and a total girl. Everything's good.

But still, I had under eaten at dinner out of nerves and was planning a binge in my head the whole time. I got home and started. Fighting all the way-do I really want to do this?-I have to stop this sometime-I will next time-THIS IS NEXT TIME-But I want to-etc.

Then I remembered that every time I put on music especially EDM I get happier immediately. I always WANT to remember to put it on when I want to binge and purge but I forget. But this time I did it. And as



played the urge, the anxiety, the overpowering feeling to binge went away. I cleaned up my room. Read some stuff. Opened mail. And felt free.

I woke up today feeling happy. But moments later I got on my bike and my shorts were tight and then my world went to shit again. Fuck I'm fat. That's right. That's why I hate everything.

But I did my best all day to fight those thoughts. I ate on my meal plan, I got coffee w/o sugar free vanilla. I ate that free sample at Macrina.

I got a call from my dear friend who is a recovered anorexic and is always such a joy to talk to. She reminds me of what matters in life of my faith of well life beyond this!

My spirits were lifted.

I then proceeded to do selfless things like buy my coworker a pastry for his birthday.
Offer to buy tickets for a friend for a show.
Not be a complete bitch to idiotic people.

Then it was time to head home. Off I went into rush hour.

No less than 5 minutes in I get cut off by a taxi and almost crash. I fall off my bike. Instantly I'm shaking uncontrollably. I tried getting back on and end up losing balance and almost run into the back of another car. Then I do it again. I finally get off and call a friend.

"It's adrenaline," she says. "Just walk."

So I do. And I reach out to people who make me feel good and I don't sit with the hate I have or the shame. I move forward.

What I'm getting at is that I get really stuck in these depressing moods. Like if I was in one now I'd tell myself to go fuck myself and that I'm a fucking pussy and I'm just making fluffy ass excuses for why I'm fat.

But I'm not in that mood so there.

I'm seeing that in order to have a different life I have to think differently. Do differently. It's insanity to keep doing the same thing expecting a different result. And people I am insane when it comes to my bulimia.

Oh and the last thing I did that was good is I'm making cinnamon rolls for my coworkers for tomorrow and homemade frosting and usually I would have eaten them all by now and to tell you the truth I still want to eat them all but instead I'm writing. And I sent Chacha texts of everything so he'll know what's up if I don't answer.

Anyway over all I'm doing alright. And I'm really thankful for that.