You know that sensation you get when your whole life blows up in your face? I've been feeling that a lot lately.

Today somebody stole my coat. It was in a locked room all freaking day and somebody still managed to steal it. I didn't want to accuse anyone of that until I was positively sure, so I talked to everyone, but someone definitely took it somewhere, becuase they took my keys out of the pocket and hung them up on the wall for me (gee, thanks, how kind of you).

Tonight after tennis I went to weight watchers where my mother paid for our membership. (Last night I told my mother either she got me some help or I was going to start throwing up again.) The people there kept asking me why I was there, and I just kept saying, "structure, I want to eat healthily." That seemed to be enough. My mom told the lady at the front (who was staring at me dubiously) that I used to have an eating disorder and I wanted to feel in control without returning to that.
"Oh, that's good!" the lady said. Then, realizing it sounded like she was saying the eating disorder was good, she said, "That you're trying to take control." I started laughing at that. She looked so uncomfortable, having in some accidental way told me my bulimia was a good thing.

On the scale I was wearing all my clothes at my sweatshirt and I weighed in at 112. They usually want you to lose 10% of your weight, but for me that is 11 pounds, and although that sounds alright with me, apparently being 101 puts me way under the healthy weight for my height. So my goal is to lose five pounds and maintain that weight, but more than that my goal is to feel in control and okay with eating and not like everything is slipping out of my hands. Once I maintain 105-ish pounds for six weeks I get to go every week for free. I really, really think it will help me in the long run. Overeating, bulimia, and undereating are all just eating disorders, so in a way I am definitely not out of place there among the overeaters.

The meeting was full of middle-aged to older women (and one man with his wife). It was fun, like an episode of Golden Girls. I have all this stuff now to write things down in, to plan meals with, to take control with, and I think that I am going to be okay. If not, I will tell my mom, and she will get me help.

Also, I have decided (with much threatening persuasion from some people) to tell my counselor on Friday that I cut and I've been having trouble with that again, so I don't know if she'll have to tell my parents, but I am going to tell her because I promised someone I would. Also because I need to be proactive about my own health and stop trying to make others deal with me. I feel like I am starting to take control a bit, with the weight watchers and telling my counselor. I know I can stop again. I stopped for nine months. I know that I can do this, especially with my counselor's help. My mom told me I could even go twice a week if I need to, and I may consider that.

I AM COMPETENT. I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF. I WILL NOT LET EVERYTHING EXPLODE IN MY FACE.