SPRING BREAK!!!!!!!!!

AT LAST SPRING BREAK IS HERE!!!! It's been a long three months since Christmas break, and I thought spring break would never come... February and March always move like sludge, but April and May pick up the pace, and then it's summer, glorious, too-short summer!
I drive to Salt Lake City tomorrow and fly to Florida on Sunday, Easter. My parents have been menacingly mentioning that we might all have to switch off driving, but I hate long-distance driving and I get tired really quickly, and it's especially hard when everyone else in the car is asleep, so I think that I will conveniently "accidentally" forget my driver's license tomorrow. Hopefully this is not a sin that requires repenting.
My digital camera, after all this drama, after my parents getting really mad at me for losing it, after me getting really mad at myself for not even remembering where I lost it, after me getting really worried about coming up with the money to replace, after all this drama for months and months, has turned up in my mother's closet. Nobody can remember how it got there. I was too relieved to be very upset about all these months of anger for nothing.
My father brought home PTC paper today, and I couldn't taste it. Neither could either of my parents. I really wanted to be able to taste it, and it's really odd to think that something that tastes just like paper to me could taste incredibly bitter to someone else. Apparently about 7 out of 10 people can taste the bitterness. I'm out of the loop. We couldn't remember if it was dominant or recessive, but we're pretty sure being able to taste it is dominant, which means both my parents and me are homozygous recessive. Sad.
Speaking of biology and such, I think I got over a 100% on my math test yesterday, like 109%-ish. I'm really excited, but the rest of the class apparently is pretty sure they did very badly on it, and is likely to murder me for ruining the curve (again). I don't feel very welcome in my math class. They spent the whole period today yet again trying to convince Mr. George that Nick and I were outliers and should not be figured into the curve. Ah well, whatever. Pretty soon the year will be over.
And it's spring break and my third quarter grades (straight A's) are solidified. Unless I got less than 50% on my biology test today on genetics, but I've gotten an A on every test all year so I don't see how that's possible. I felt pretty confident in it today. But even if I did get a B, I don't really care because I have a good grade in there.
3rd QUARTER GRADES:
1. Calculus- probably about a 97%
2. Gym- 100% (we finally finished my last dancing unit ever today, I was so excited!)
3. English- 101% (Even after the not so good Fahrenheit 451 quiz... I really liked the book, but the quiz was really detailed)
4. Orchestra- A, don't know the percent
5. Biology- 107% (before the test, that probably won't change much if I got an A on the test)
6. Orchestra- A
7. Music theory- 99%-ish.
So I'm doing pretty good. I actually think I might make it, through high school with a 4.0. Valedictorian is a good thing to have on college applications.
So I'm not going to think about school at all this next week. I probably should, because I have a huge semester project for biology I need to think about and a nationalism report and composition due in a few weeks for music theory, but I'm not going to. This is my week to be lazy, this is my preview of summer, and it does NOT involve school or any thoughts about school. I want this week to go really slowly. It probably won't, it'll probably last forever, but that's what I want... slowly, savored.

busy

I can't write much. The reason I haven't written for days is that I've been so busy, with school and symphony and tennis and getting ready for this solo and ensamble festival next month.

Next week is spring break though, and I'm going to Florida. I'm really, really ready for a break. Actually I'm ready for summer, but inconveniently, it's not summer yet.

Matt's going to Ukraine for three weeks. I will miss him a lot.

Still struggling with the eating.

weakness

I used to think I had to be strong. I had to act sane, even when I was psychotic. For a brief six months, I laid my weaknesses open to everyone, and I ruined lives. And so I assumed that weaknesses were not okay.
I didn't go to school this morning because I was so sick with puking and the laxatives that I couldn't leave the bathroom. It was partly laxatives, partly some sort of flu thing, partly exhaustion. The pie I made for pi day (rhubarb, my favorite) sits in the fridge, and I missed math. I'm going to school as soon as one of my parents contacts me (they have the cars), so I'll take it in after school.
But from years of keeping everything inside, trying to convince myself that I had to be strong, I'm not going to do that today. Today I am weak.
I AM WEAK TODAY AND I DON'T CARE. Maybe occasional weaknesses are part of recovery. Right now, I've decided that I can't eat. I just can't. It makes me feel out of control, and when I feel out of control everything falls apart. I feel better now, thinking about control again.

I want someone to hold me, but not like I'm delicate. I'm not. I'm not delicate at all. I may be weak, but I'm not breakable. I want somone to hold me so hard it crushes my ribs and lungs and leaves me as a mass of bloody, pulpy, splintered bone.
No one will of course. No on would dare to care that much about me.

Lack of regret

It wasn't hard like I thought. I was breaking two promises, one to my mother, one to Terry. Accidents happened, but I don't know how this was an accident. It's been a week since I promised Shauna I would make it a week. I made it a week for her.
But I stood on the scale naked and looked in the mirror. I don't know if I looked fat but I didn't look good enough. There didn't seem to be a difference, between those two.
I took the laxatives and I realized then, as I swallowed them, that I'd felt out of control, eating cookies and bites of icecream and weighing .2 of a pound more every day. But with the laxatives, I felt like I was controlling things again. As soon as I swallowed them I felt okay. I felt like... it's hard to describe.
Now I'm listening to Pink Floyd records, "Animals", and it's so sad, and The Rolling Stones and the Beatles and ACDC and Ringo Starr and they were all so stoned and sad.
Wow I think I should have taken my meds this morning but I didn't. I think I should regret the laxatives but I don't. I feel so much better now.

coming back

Tonight I picked up Siobhan and JoAnna and we went to a taco place, and Siobhan ate, and a bunch of guys came, Matt and Amo and Steve and Charlie and some other people, and we all hung out for a while, and then Siobhan and Jo and me went to Starbucks (after a huge argument with Steve about chain corporations and local businesses) where we all used to go six months ago when things were still real.
It's been so long since it was us, Siobhan, Jo, and me, but nothing's changed. We've all changed incredibly, but us, together... we're still the same. Since September and October when we spent nearly every weekend driving around and filming movies at Friendlies, drinking hot chocolate at Perkins and shooting spitwads at Starbucks where we knew the names of hte people that worked there, so much has happened to me. In September and October I was cutting and throwing up and taking laxatives and stuff, but I hadn't lost everything yet. After October, I totally withdrew from all my friends, spent all my time locked in my head except maybe at debate, and was just generally trapped within myself. Only in the past few weeks have I begun to try to reconnect with my friends from six months ago.
I thought maybe they'd be gone. And they've changed this year, sure, but just like last week with Shauna, it doesn't matter that we've changed, we can still sit there and things are the same.
It was such a relief today at Starbucks with Siobhan and Jo, because I realized, there's still room for me in my life. And that was what I was so afraid of, that I had somehow slipped away from everything, that there wasn't room for me anymore in my life. I remember last May, watching my friends and suddenly crying because I knew I wasn't there, I was shut out. But there's room for me again.
In the silence and white from the snow outside the windows at Starbucks, I felt safe, and I knew that it's okay, nothing's changed, we still exist, together. I still have friends, and they're glad I'm back.
Siobhan said she may have to have back surgery and have a metal rod put in her back and be in bed all summer long. She has scoliosis and had a back brace for several years, but apparently it won't be effective now that she's quit growing, but her back is still twisted. And that sucks of course. But I said, "It's okay, we'll still roll you around town, and drive off cliffs and make movies at Friendly's and do puppet shows for you. We'll do what we always do... we'll still have fun." And I looked at JoAnna and at Siobhan, and I knew, we all knew, that we could make it fun, the surgery, the bed-riddance... we could make anything fun as long as we were together.

I'm back in the real world. I didn't think I missed it but I guess I did.

parties

I've been going to a lot of parties lately... but I guess that's what high school is infamous for... except I don't go to parties with drugs or alcohol.
Anyway, Matt's suprise birthday party was last night. As I was getting ready, I glanced in the mirror, and I looked thin. That happens occasionally, when I only briefly see myself. When I look closer, I always look fat again. A part of me wants to believe that the glances are what I really look like, and the other times are what I look like after my mind contorts the image. Most of me is content (although not happy) with just believing I'm fat.
There were a lot of people at the party, maybe 25, and I thought that Matt maybe wouldn't see me in all those people, but he spent most of the night with me. We were standing alone in the dining room, his arms around me and holding me to him, and he said, "I'm so happy right now, I have everything I want." And although I'd been distant, dissociative, for most of the night, at that moment I looked around me at all the people, and the empty pop cans and mountains of chips and Gushers boxes, and I realized I had everything I wanted in the world too, and I realized I was happy.
It's the first time I've been happy with my friends or at a party in... years, I think. And I was surprised. But I realized it is possible, to be whole.
In that moment, in Matt's arms, I felt so safe and I knew that everything was going to be okay, eventually. Maybe the bulimia will never go away, I don't think it's really possible to actually recover from an eating disorder, but I will eventually be stable, in recovery. Maybe I won't ever stop wanting to cut myself, but I will stop actually doing it. I won't hit my kids. I'll take my meds. I will marry someone, maybe someone like Matt, someone who I love and who believes in me like Matt does.
It was crazy really, that I was happy, and that as I drove home Venus and the moon were so bright in the sky. But I know now, it's possible, it's possible for me to be happy, and I'd doubted that possibility until now.
This morning there was six inches of snow outside. I don't know what significance that has, but it felt like it meant something.

brainwash

So we took these "measured progress" tests in school yesterday and today, they're for Bush's no child left behind thing to see if our school gets money or if we're too stupid.
The reading section was really boring, articles about frogs and whatnot, and I decided that if we're going to have to take tests, every sophomore in the nation, they might as well attempt to indoctrinate us with some republican philosophies... that would be exciting, they could try to emply propagand for the Iraq war or brainwashing of some other sort, and actually entertain us as we take these... but no, we get articles on frogs.

attempts to be social

My mom was getting "very concerned" about my anti-socialness, and wanted me to try to integrate myself back into my friend group. They are all still my friends, but I have done a very fine job over the past six months or so at completely shutting myself off from them. So these past few weekends have marked my attempts at returning to the way I was, busy all weekend with my friends.
Last weekend's attempt was obviously failed to an extent, because I was so sad at the party. Last night Shauna came over and we talked about a lot of things, and the two years that passed since she first sat on my bed and now. Remarkably, we can still have the same conversations, which sets her apart from any of my other friends. Altogether, it felt really good talking to her, I always forget how much I miss her when she's gone.
Today I hung out at coffee shops and at Perkins with some random people... Sean, Stevie, Kyrstin, etc. It was fun, I suppose, but I can tell it's going to be hard at first, this social stuff. I remember driving around aimlessly every weekend with Siobhan, Kyrstin, and JoAnna, and I miss it, we had so much fun. So although a part of me is apprehensive, a part of me is excited about trying to struggle back into my old friendships.
I have even rediscovered Sam... I can't believe how much I've missed him as well.
I think my main problem is that my carefree days of parties at my house and pizza and prank phone calls from middle school are over. I feel like I don't even exist as a human being. I feel my body, and see it in a mirror, but secretly I actually believe that I cannot be more than an apparition, I can't possibly be flesh and blood. Too much has happened, too much has changed, for me to have lungs and a beating heart the way that everyone else does. I feel unique, and so far away from them, because they exist, and somehow I don't, not anymore.

Once upon a time

Doesn't it make you sad to know that time passes?
What makes you sad about it? My mom asks. I don't know how to explain. Life. The weather. The hallways full of people.
I imagine that if you levitated one-hundred feet above those hallways they would look like endless rivers of flesh. It might even be beautful, maybe the only way to make that many people beautiful.
I'm in a really weird mood. I don't know. Life is sad. Because there's pain and dying and abuse and all that, but more than that, because people were happy once.
That's the biggest sadness of all.

YAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I forgot to share the biggest news of the day- we're getting a tiny Maltese puppy in three weeks after we get back from Florida for spring break!!! I'm really, really, really excited... I've always wanted a small dog. I love our Rottweiler and wouldn't trade her for anything, but honestly our labrador annoys the crap out of me, most of the time I would just like to scream at him until he understands. Well he does understand that's why he annoys me so much... he knows he's disobeying, but he tries to play dumb. URGH!
Anyway, the Maltese will be about 3 and a half pounds FULL GROWN! Isn't that crazy? My lab, Winter, is about 100 pounds! He could like squash our Maltese! But Mom says we'll introduce them slowly. Sandy, our Rottweiler, is really good with small dogs anyway.
What I'm really saying is this is the most exciting thing that's happened since I kissed Matt five times in one day without dissociating!

Jeans

I was at Maurices today, buying jeans because all of mine are way too big for me now, where I always used to go with my mom a few years ago, and the girl there said, "Hey, I remember when you always used to come here with your mom!" and I thought it was so crazy, and nice in a way, that she actually remembered me from two years ago when I had bangs and such. And she asked how old I was and I said 15, 16 in a few months, and she said she was 18, 19 in a few days, and getting married. And I said that was really cool, and she said, take it slow, make sure he buys you a big rock (jokingly), and I stood there for a good ten seconds really confusedly thinking about some big foot-long chunk of granite before the popular culture slang clicked in my mind. That's how dense I am by Wednesday.
The jeans I bought were a size 1, which is crazy. How in the world did I manage to drop that many jean sizes over a year and still look just as fat as always? I don't get it! I'm really frusterated about how what I see in the mirror has never really changed, but people think I have.
I think there's a part of me that's innocent, that thinks stupid things, that doesn't get jokes, and then there's another part of me that's always criticizing. I tend to talk to myself a lot, mostly the critical part talking to the naive part. Maybe this is left over from my multiple personality disorder before it was suppressed again (I'm so looking forward to it reappearing in a few years... not). But I'm definitely extremely weird but I don't care.