It's that time of year again when I make my infamous annual report.
Today is 5 years since I went into the hospital.
I always find myself thinking a lot about it around this time, for obvious reasons. I cannot think about the date September 23rd without automatically associating it with the hospital. September sun with cloudless skies and wind rippling the grass always reminds me of the weeks following up to it. I look back on that experience with mixed feelings. I don't know whether I should celebrate it, mourn for it, or just let it be. And in life-long recovery, it is still incredibly hard to hear "Karen, you are doing good". Because "doing good" means that I failed. It's sickening, but it's true.
So today, I did what I felt best. I listened to 2 songs that I associate with hospitalization: "Life Goes On" by Leann Rimes, and "Cry" by Faith Hill. They both came out just after I was admitted, and they both, in an odd way, resonate on a personal level with me and my experience. I don't think I would be able to describe it to you if I tried. Please note that "Cry" is not with regards to any person; it is wholly in regard to me and my relationship (if you can call it that) with the anorexia.
So, until next year, I keep on struggling...
Karen
It was a week ago that I got on the plane coming home. I felt okay. I didn't cry when I left. The only two or three tears that escaped were discreetly released on the plane from Toronto to home while listening to "You're Still You" by Josh Groban. That whole day, I thought I was going to be okay. I convinced myself that I was going to have a good school year, that it will be infinitely better than the last, and that Christmas really isn't that far away. I was fine. I felt hopeful.
The next morning I woke up on the other end of the scale. It was dark and brooding outside, overcast with no rain, which is always the worst. And humid. As soon as I opened my them, my eyes wandered to the bed that is perpendicular and to the left of mine. She's gone. That's when it hit me. And suddenly, Christmas felt like it was ages away.
First day of classes, I panic. The weight of the assignments and exams and endless readings dropped onto me. I couldn't breathe. That helpless feeling like you cannot even attempt to do anything right creeps into my mind. And two days later, after getting a start on everything, it lessens. I just have to keep reminding myself that past behaviours are predictive of future ones - I can get through this school year and do well, because I have done it before. I remind myself that the first week or so of classes is the most stressful, because that's when you find out when everything is due, when all the midterms will be written. It'll get better. I just need to get back into the groove of things. And I remind myself, while reading the textbook for Introduction to Research Processes, that last year, the class that I dreaded and was convinced that I would not be able to handle ended up being my highest mark.
In other words, I am learning to self-soothe. I think Kerry would be proud.
I am now over 16 hours into the 30 hour Famine. My goal this year was to surpass what I got last year, which was $154. This year, I raised $175! Sweet!
I wrote my Bible exam today. It went alright. There were 3 essay questions, and I had the outlines and information all done in advance and I studied them like there was no tomorrow. But I was afraid that I would go into the exam and forget everything that I had prepared. Luckily, that was not the case.
I'm beginning to panic about Stats, Personality, and Social. I've read Social notes through once, halfway through first round of Personality, and I haven't looked at Stats yet except to do the online flashcards. I'm a little worried. Gulp.
Good luck with exams everyone!
...
My hair is doing something really nice right now.
I wish it would do this more often! Like, when I'm in the presence of people, and not late at night in front of a computer screen.
Stupid hair.
