I hate going to bed, falling asleep feeling like crap and then waking up a few hours later, totally unrefreshed, utterly exhausted and still feeling like crap, or worse.  Yesterday was a good day.  No, it was a great day!  I had my hair done, a self-indulgent, pampering experience.  I bought myself some perfume, again, self-indulgent and extravagant.  I spent a little while with a wonderful friend and then spent some time tutoring two brilliant girls.  I felt good.  Then I got home, felt completely alone in contrast with my day which full of interaction with different people.  I grew lower and lower, recoiled and withdrew into this pit of despair for no real valid reason.  It make me feel ridiculously selfish yet I cannot stop it and now, today, I feel that I am unable to face the world.  I cannot even leave the house, leave my bedroom.

Things are moving forward on the ED front.  I went to see a psychologist last week.  On the one hand, I was terrified, because, well, that's just me.  On the other hand, I was...not quite excited, but...ready to embrace, I guess are the words I'm looking for, the help that I need in order to move on and live my life to the full.  I wasn't sure what to expect at all to be honest.

It was pretty intense.  One of the first questions I was asked was, 'What do you think is the problem?'  Now, I haven't cried properly for a long while, and not in public, for years, for ever in fact, but this question made me want to bawl, and then to be comforted.  I have only ever cried alone, in the comfort of my room...not that it was ever comforting.  (I cannot believe I am writing about crying; it is making me feel rather awkward and I am struggling to word what I would like to say - apologies for the atrocious writing!)

Crying is a tremendously personal thing.  I find it near impossible to cry now.  Sometimes I wish I could just cry, and cry and let it all out, and have someone there to see how much I am hurting, to be there for me and hold me tight, but that's just pathetic.  I am not one for flaunting my weaknesses, or my positives for that matter, and so when this strange sensation: the watery stinging of the eyes; the lump planted deep in the throat; the outrageous burning of the cheeks; this surge of embarrassment; and shame of my eating disordered behaviour swept over me, I was shocked, caught by surprise.  And I stopped myself.  Kept control.  I just wish I could let go though, because keeping it back is holding my progress back.

I feel like crying right now.  For no particular reason, just the usual...I can't sleep, I feel so alone, I hate myself so so much, I hate the feelings I experience with having this eating disorder, but, equally, fear the thought of giving the thing up, I'm terrified of everything, I'm scared of the medical tests I need to have as recommended by the psychologist, I feel so selfish for having these thoughts when others have much more serious things to be worried about and I feel even more selfish for not being able to help as much as I would like to, which makes me feel useless.

Once I find a purpose to my life, I know that I will have something to work towards, which may help me on this more than turbulent road to recovery.

I passed my theory test today.  It gave me a huge sense of success which disappeared as quickly as it enveloped me.  Just like all other exams, like all other successes.  Short lived and seeminly futile.  I mean, OK, yes I was momentarily happy with myself, but then I read through the test results, and the questions where I had gone wrong jumped out at me.  Always eyeing up the negatives.  I seem to be an expert at pointing out the positives in others and the negatives in myself.  I just can't help it - it is like an addiction, like a smoker has to have a cigarette, like an alcoholic has to have another drink, I have to keep boosting others, making them feel great about themselves, in contrast with pointing out my own errors, my flaws, my imperfections...

...which may be why I have lost about half a stone after putting some weight on.  But it's still not good enough.  The more I lose, the more imperfections I find on my body, the more I hate it, myself.  I get so frustrated with myself for being so weak, for lacking such willpower and for being so utterly selfish. 

I just long to be normal.  I crave self assurance and confidence.  I want to be able to do things my friends can do, without flying into a frantic panic over nothing.  I want to be able to do things a normal twenty year old can do, without being consumed by fear.  I want the feeling of emptiness to evaporate and the feeling of loneliness to disappear.  I hate my wants.