Oh Boy. I am in quite a hole right now. It's been a while...Going away part went okay, not as well as I wanted, but what's new. Thomas ended up kissing every girl there, except for me. And I ended up sleeping wedged between him and Steven. It was all okay though. Both of them came to the airport, which was good. I saw Lewis the day before I left, which was wonderful. He hugged me. It was so bittersweet. I miss him.

So, for the past 3 days or so I have been very depressed. I haven't done a whole lot to try and snap out of it either. I wish that I didn't get like this. There is no reason for it! But here I am, alone, wicked lonely, in a state that I hardly know. I really can't mope too much; I knew I'd have to go through this. This is my second week. My first went spectacular. My cousin Michelle was super helpful, everyone was so nice, Barb; the woman I am staying with, was so accommodating and wonderful...I was exploring and loving the bus and everything. Week 2 has been going into a slump. I am overeating, lonely, hiding in my bedroom, which no longer feels warm and welcoming...more like a cold lonely hotel room. Week 1 I ate so well, wrote nearly 3 songs, and just felt really great. The past few days just have been shit.

I can't say that I blame it on the move, though. Things like this have become inevitable for me. It doesn't really matter where I am. I seem to always forget about my downs when I am up. It's like I go into denial; I forget how depressed I can be sometimes. I tell myself "That's gone, it wont happen again" I suppose that is a good thing, but then it hits me out of nowhere and I'm like 'Fuck, where did this come from?'

Today was a little bit better than yesterday. This is day 3 of the slump. Day 1 I woke up feeling fine, I even mediated on the patio. Then I went for a brisk walk down Morrison, saw groundhogs, all was well. On my way back I started to feel terrible, like I worked out way too hard, even though I really was not going for intensity at all. By the time I got back I felt awful and tired. I took a shower, didn't even put on make up. Then all day I just wanted to eat and eat. I sort of blamed it on PMS, got some chocolate stuff. It hardly helped, though. Yesterday was the worst. I felt like shit all day. I was down about being down. I wanted to lie in bed and eat all day. I didn't do a thing. I ordered a pizza. Cost me $23. I ate 5 pieces, and then the other three this morning. Ugh, I just feel awful about it all.

My days are bleeding together. Either last night, or this morning, I started to research binge eating disorder. I am pretty sure I have it. I've been in denial about this forever, I've never admitted that I have a problem to myself or anyone. At least not a problem serious enough to have a name. It is true though. I convince myself that I only eat what I let others see and believe that I eat, and what no one knows never happened. My body does not lie, however. My weight is a reflection. I tend to believe that if I am in a good environment, with people that I care about, that the embarrassment would be enough to deter me from binging. I think I am wrong. I fear that my issues outweight my embarrassment. Which is what makes me realize I have a problem on my hands.

I was kind of running away from this, by moving all the way out here. I knew that I could really run away from it. But I thought that without my Mom's influential behavior that I would be a lot better. I am better, but not a lot. I had a feeling that this would happen. You can't run away from yourself.

I want to heal! I don't want to feel sick and yucky anymore. I am unsure of what to do, though. I am sure I would benefit from professional help, but I have no insurance, and really no hope of insurance anytime soon. So I have myself. I was going to go to the bookstore today to get some books...I bought cigarettes and ice cream instead. I felt guilty smoking here in Colorado. Everyone seems so healthy, I just felt bad. Similar to the way I feel for even being here. Colorado has the lowest obesity rating, and I just brought it up a little bit.

So, why be so negative on myself? It does no good at all, and I know this. It does more harm, it reinforces my bad habits. This is so hard. "If it were easy, what would be the point?" That is the last sentence on my application for school. Ironic.

I came here to learn, to meet myself, to heal, to become better. A 3 day slump surely can not deter me from my goals. As terrible as this feels and seems, I believe it is a blessing in disguise. In these few days I have been forced to face the very worst of myself. I have realized that ignoring my problems does not make them go away. I have an addiction; I just wish it were a bit more glamorous. Because in reality, being addicted to food is shit. It's a joke. If I were addicted to heroin, cocaine, alcohol, cutting, cigarettes, purging, not eating...all of those things seem sort of badass...in a really super corrupted and untrue kind of way. I can do the addiction transfer thing...I've done the alcoholic thing, the chain smoking thing, the druggie thing, and the cutting thing. The only thing that ever seemed to cancel out my food issues was the alcohol. When I lived with Thomas and Michael, food was just what it was suppose to be. Sure, I ate a bit too much, but I never really had that crazed feeling. I think that is because I care greatly what they thought of me, and I had the booze to curb my appetite for addiction. But I think that alcohol is worse than food.

So, here I am! I am overweight, and sort of unaware of it. Not at all, really. Well, let's be honest. I think of myself as a little over 200lbs. Then I have a moment of reality sometimes, that I am really 240, and that is not just a little over 200. I am really unsure of what to do. You know, they say to not give it the time of day; to virtually ignore that there is an issue...focus on the positive and all that jazz. Well, I think that is what I've been doing, but I feel the same. I am not saying it's wrong, because I am a firm believer...after all that is what got me here 2500 miles from home looking for some unknown miracle. There is just something I am missing.

A lot of what I've seen in my very little bit of research is that it is all just an issue of self esteem. I suppose that is correct. At the same time, I often feel like I am confident. I am beautiful, and I really believe that. I am a nice person, and I have some good talents. After that though, I stop believing. So, I guess it is an esteem issue. It sort of seems too easy.

I stumbled across a website today called overcoming overeating. A lot of what it said resonated with me, and frightened me. They said that the best way to overcome is to never diet again; okay, that is fine with me, I stopped a while ago, I just try to eat 'healthy' now. They say to next think of all food as equal...chocolate is the same as carrots. I don't know that I could do that. The knowledge of nutrition seems so deeply rooted in me. I remember being little in my grandmother's kitchen (now my Mother's, ironically the kitchen I grew up in). They were talking about orange juice, and how it had a lot of calories. I had no freakin clue what a calorie was, I assumed it must be a good thing. Sometimes I wish I could go back there.

I am really at a loss. I know this isn't really about food, so I need to stop trying to restrict food, to blame food. It's not, it is me. The food acts as a wall, a shield from the true issues at hand. Like an emotional block, to numb yourself. And that is so what I do. I have worked so hard to not feel, for I have thought that emotion was weakness. I think I got that from Mom and Dad, since both can be emotional hurricanes. I've numbed myself with food, alcohol, drugs, cutting. I've overcome all but food. The drugs and alcohol were so easy for me. I am lucky. Cutting was a challenge, it still it. Days like these past 3 I have the urge to pick up a blade. I never do, and I haven't in over a year and a half. It feels like much much longer.

I guess that is my really big secret.

"As bad as I am, I am proud of the fact that I'm worse than I seem" - Ani Difranco

That always has resonated with me, because it is so true. Yes, I am an overweight high school drop out. I smoke cigarettes and drink sometimes. I used to be able to down a 5th of rum all to myself and still carry a (foolish) conversation. Yes, I have a few scars. But all of that is nothing. Two years ago I was so depressed that it made these 3 days seem like heaven. All I wanted to do was sleep, and I longed for it so much it drove me to insomnia. I wanted to escape myself so badly I considered suicide every night. I remember literally writhing in pain in my bed. It really really hurt. I remember every night, almost like a ritual...I'd take a roll of paper towels, lie tons of sheets under my left leg...I'd take my razor and calmly, slowly cut the same 4 inch strip over and over again. It helped me. I scared myself really bad. I thought so seriously about suicide. I was always to afraid to do it. I'd thought about suicide before, but it never really phased me, because I knew I wouldn't do it. But two years ago, I really go scared. I was so overwhelmed, in so much pain. I was doing awful in school, I had three jobs, everyone around me was miserable, and I was most of all. I wanted an escape and suicide seemed great. I don't like to fail. So I never tried. I knew that a suicide attempt would not be that. I felt a little jealous of those that could use it as a cry for help. I didn't know how to. I tired to seek professional help, since I was still on family health insurance. I talked to a few local therapists through e-mail. All of them treated me like a fragile egg, like I could snap at any moment. I appreciated it a little, but I loathed it a lot. I never even told them the intensity, as I was a minor at the time, and I had heard horror stories about friends of friends opening up to therapists and then their parents were informed since they were in danger. Anyway, the therapist thing didn't work out. I hated the idea anyway. So, I took matters into my own hands, as I always do. I figured that I had way too much on my plate. That was why I was so unhappy. The solution was to take some away. I had to work, since we were poor. So, I dropped out. In a way that was the best decision I ever made. In the same way cutting was. Neither were good decisions, but the alternative makes them excellent. To this day I don't regret either. Sometimes I don't like my scars, and sometimes I don't like explaining to people that I never graduated, but in the end, my "worst decisions" saved my life, and for that I am not sorry.

That is what no one knows. I like to think it's a really badass story, event though I know that most people can probably relate, which takes the mysterious effect away.

That was a tangent if I ever saw once, but it felt nice. My point was kind of to say, things have been much worse, and I took care of it all by myself, I can do it again.

I came here to heal. I chose a healing occupation to help heal myself. Most of this was involuntary, it just came to me, and it just happened. I look back and almost have no clue how I got here, I just knew I would and here I am. How's that for law of attraction?! So, I am here, and I want to be there, and I know I will get there, so let it be.

This whole food thing just seems so much harder. The trouble is that when I am not a crazed depressed maniac, I don't care about getting better because I don't feel bad.

I am just going to have to take thing one step at a time. I will stop blaming food, and start trying to feel again, as weak as I may think it is. I am really eager to start school. I know that massage brings out a lot of emotion and fears and pain that you didn't necessarily know was there. This won't be easy, and I am so excited. I am ready to be happy and healed.

This has helped me a lot. I am actually in a pleasant mood now. Amazing how that works.

I also meant to touch on the fact that I am really lonely and miss Thomas and Lewis. More so Lewis, which is odd. I've talked to Thomas a bit on IM while he was working. He flew over to CA this morning. I've lost him, and I've known it for a while. It isn't completely and I think that hurts more. I sort of pretend it's not, but it is. I am really okay with it, because we have had our share of good and bad times, and I have learned a lot about myself. It's always sad to let go. I don't feel like it is the end, but I am unsure if that is a delusion. I think that this part of us is very much over, but there could be something new in the future, but I won't count on it. I hope he succeeds immensely.

Lewis, I miss badly. I miss him more than anyone! Isn't that ironic...the one that I don't really miss when I am 15 miles away, now that I am 2500 miles I want him here right now! When I saw him, it was great. And the hug was so sincere, almost passionate, but melancholy too. He hugged me like that could be the last time he ever saw me, and that has terrified me. He was talking about absynth, and I told him I've never had it. So, in our goodbyes he said good luck and all. I guess he has applied for a position in Seattle. He said that maybe he'll find out he got it, and on his way to Washington he'd stop by to visit. And I said that hopefully I will have the perfect apartment and perfect roommates. He said he'd bring absynth.

I guess it is silly to hold on to that hope. I do anyway. I have found the perfect apartment. And the perfect roommate. We move in September 1st, which is coming up quickly. Now all I need is Lewis and his absynth!

I have a lot to be happy about.

I had a really weird dream last night. I was having sex with a really attractive guy, but he had no legs. I was on top, but he kept rolling onto his side, so it wasn't working out so well. It wasn't a voulentary roll, it was because he had no legs, as illogical as that is. And they weren't typical stumps either, it was like charred and flat, like someone cauterized them fairly recently. I even remember feeling the sort of hard sharpness of the charred edges. I was never grossed out, though. I was suppose to be doing homework; a project, not having sex with legless guys...then the next day I was unprepared and it felt awful. I was also quite puzzled about having sex with no legs. What an odd dream....

I have been really down the past few days. Monday I had to bring Tucker to the animal shelter. I really didn't want to, but it was Mom's decision. I feel so guilty for not putting up more of a fight. It really just breaks my heart. He is so friendly and loving, though. Someone will be very happy to find him.

Thomas IMed me the other night, I actually think it was Monday as well. I told him about Tucker and he was really angry, and gave a lecture, which really was the last thing I needed to hear. I was so down on myself about it, he made it worse. It was pretty disappointing. None the less, I said we need to see each other. He said Wednesday or Friday, he didn't know which. Considering today is Wednesday, and I haven't seen him, I am guessing that means Friday. I need to pick up a bit if he comes over.

My room is SO FULL OF STUFF. I am packing, and it is trashed. The thing is, I can't really clean it because I have to tear it apart to pack and store everything. My method of shipment is not going to work, come to find out. So, I'm not entirely sure what I am going to do. I might have to be more of a minimalist than I thought. Oh well.

I may be seeing Lewis this weekend as well. I hope. He is in the forefront right now. Monday night, after Tucker, then Thomas, I had bitter dreams. They weren't bad, but melancholy lies of my brain. I dreamed Tucker came back and I was so happy. Aunt Laurie took him in. It was so happy, but then when I woke up reality hit like a brick, and I hate that feeling. So, the next night I asked for something comforting, easy, simple, safe. I dreamed about Lewis. It was weird. He drove a pearl white Riviera. We had to take Mom to the grocery store, and I bought a razor because Lewis and I were going back to his apartment and I wanted to sneak in a shave. Then we were on the highway after we dropped off Mom, and I remember feeling safe and loved. I think he may have held me at some point, but I am unsure. It was pretty realistic for a dream. I was analyzing throughout, wondering if we would go back to his place. Anyway, ever since then I have missed him a lot, and everything reminds me of him. I want to see him so badly, but I want it to be smooth and comfortable. I would feel interesting, Thomas Friday, Lewis Saturday. I want it to work. I want him to show real affection, not this complicated bullshit we always do. And I want it this weekend, so that I can hope for it next weekend too. It is silly of me, really. If I get my wish it will make leaving that much harder. But it will make all of this awkward wishing more worth it than it is already.

I want out of this self-conscious slump. I feel gross, lazy, huge, sad. I blame the time of month, surrendering Tucker, and leaving so soon. I want my last two weeks to be pleasant, though. I need to prepare for my new life! I am really curious to see how it goes. I think it will be a cinch, I will not have all of this awful negativity surrounding me like I do here. I wont have Mom enabling my bad habits, I will have only myself, and only myself to blame. I will be forced to take responsibility for myself, my actions, my life. I also wont have to weight my desires against those around me as much.

I hate to be so eager, but I just can not wait to get out of here. Away from this trash, away from the beer bottles, away from these dirty dishes. This house is plagued with negativity. As many wonderful times I have had here, this house has a bad aura I think.