22:45 - 18.08.2007
trying to think of something in my childhood...

i finally wracked up the nerve to call the ed clinic yesterday. they offered me immediate entry into a 3day/week outpatient program. i declined because it will probably cause me to lose my job; then repented. after thinking it over, talking to my best friend, talking to a mutual friend of my fiancé’s & mine, talking to my police officer friend, and finally consulting my fiancé, i decided to call them back today and get enrolled in the 3day thing. only, it turns out that the bimbo i talked to on friday didn’t enter my information into the computer. so now i have to wait until monday afternoon before i can speak with the right person.

i’ll probably have to tell my boss what’s going on when i explain to her that i won’t be able to work mondays, wednesdays, or saturday mornings anymore, but i don’t so much care. i tell more people all the time. like kara, the mutual friend…wound up telling her when i ran into her at the grocery store. and greg, my cop friend, told him just so i could ask his opinion on the therapy options. no one has gotten scared or freaked out yet. almost tempts me to tell my daddy. except he and i got into a fight about my notsostationary bike today. he said i looked too sick to ride it, first, and refused to let me on it. then he took a 6hour nap, during which time i was forbidden to ride. then it was “too late in the evening.” bullshit. tomorrow, i ride for 3 hours on my brandnew bike, to pay him back. had to buy a new bike because the old one is falling apart. screws & nuts keep flying off. the resistance band snapped quite some time ago. and i found this warped metal piece on the floor after i rode it last. i don’t know where it came from, but it appears to have broken off from overheating, which is interesting.

i was able to roll my stomach and vomit earlier. because i was so pissed at my dad for telling me i looked sick, i think. after eating 12 muffins & half a vegan pizza, i downed a bottle of ipecac. that made me vomit 7 times, and them i puked 3 more times by rolling my stomach. i wish i could figure out how i did it so i can do it again next time--youknowyouknowyouknow…

trying to get better sucks. but being bulimic sucks too. i’m sick of having to always adhere to the demands of mia & my family. i want to do what i want to do for a change. i really need that fucking therapy. i don’t care if i lose my stupid minimum wage job due to reduced availability. i hate working there anyway. i want to be a barista.