House M.D.

That has been what my whole life has consisted of lately. I wasn't in my apartment when I woke up this morning and was nowhere near a scale, so I'm going to weigh myself in the morning. I had the day off. I cleaned a bit, edited a bit, realized my last pork chop was bad and that it was literally the last ounce of food I had in my apartment, so I had a random trip to the grocery store.

So here's the thing, I've decided that if I'm ever going to be a successful adult and work through my anxiety without a therapist (until I can afford one which will be in the next couple of months, fingers crossed) I have decided that I'm going to push myself.

This, as corny as it is, has actually been in the back of my mind for the past two weeks:

I had a weird childhood. I grew up really fucking fast and I hated it, to be honest. But, I'm 22. I'm not dead. I have no kids. I have no "real" obligations to be honest, so why do I care? Life's rough for me right now, but it's never really not been. So instead of letting everything make me upset, why can't I just work on me?

Today I bought two avocados so that I can try my hand at making guacamole. That doesn't seem like a huge deal, but I don't really travel outside of my comfort zone at all.

Yesterday, I posted a picture on instagram that was really a relief but at the same time really scary for me to post:

One reason is because on the right, I'm wearing a crop top and short shorts. Something I haven't dared to do in literally years. It's been so scary for me, and I went an entire day dressed like that. My mom almost said something rude, which is her M.O. but I think she could tell it was important to me and watched herself.

The second is that although I can be cavalier about my old eating disorder, I still don't really like to show the difference. On the left was me about 90 pounds ago. I've always been the same height. I was sick. I didn't eat or if I did I snacked on things like gummies and dry cereal. Or apples and one egg. I used to say I'd kill myself if I ever dared reach 125 pounds. What a difference about 8 years makes. I backtrack sometimes and slip up but an eating disorder is a lifetime thing.

I'm going to keep pushing. I told a boy today that he was important to me and even though I know it's going to take me a while before I can trust anyone again, it was nice to know my feelings haven't completely just diminished. 

My family is fighting, I swore in front of my grandma for the first time and told them to deal with their problems on their own because with my anxiety, things like that kill me.

It's going to be a day by day thing. I'm angry, I'm hurt, I cry a lot, I have panic attacks, my self worth can take a dive so quickly, but as long as I keep pushing myself, I think I can at least achieve some sort of normalcy.