Sunday, October 10, 2010
"I'm Ron Burgandy...?"
Gobble Gobble Gobble.
Oh shit, I’ve been anally electrocuted and now I’m dead. You must eat me, since there is no other food to sustain life on earth and the human race depends on it.
Haha! Happy Thanksgiving.
I realized today why I haven’t been writing on my blog very often, since being released from hop-sital. Tis a twofold excuse - part one, I am busy doing stuff, always just doing stuff (often that stuff is eating) and I am reluctant to sit down and do nothing. I sat on my arse for long enough in hop-sital, I want to moooooove. The second part is that my life feels a bit boring right now. What do I do every day? Eat, go to meetings, eat, do some homework, eat, go to the gym, eat, take care of the dogs, eat, eat, and eat. It’s not very exciting, is it?
I bore myself with the monotony of my days. I don’t wanna bore you, too.
Let’s see. What (if anything) of interest happened this weekend? Well, my car got broken into last night. Correction, I left Trent the Tracker unlocked, because despite the name, he is a clapped out, dilapidated piece of shit, which contains nothing of value - or so I thought.
Some little fuckers stole my fucking cigarettes out of my fucking car! Argh! A plague on both your houses, fuckers! I’ll make worm’s meat of you if I ever catch you, you little shits.
I thought that was all that was missing, and grumblingly made my way down to the shops to get a new pack of smokes JUST LIKE I DID YESTERDAY (worm’s meat, fuckers!). But while I was doing my AA homework, me mum came in from a walk with my sorta-sis-in-law and handed me all of my tanning stuffs, which were scattered across Mrs. Thom’s front lawn, including my pink thong.
“Ew! They touched my panties!” I screamed, when Mum handed me my tanning bag.
She backed out of the room. “There’s some leaves in there, we had to go around and pick up all your stuff.”
“Thanks, Ma,” I said, and held my pink thong out by a fingernail, as far from myself as possible. “Think I’ll wash this.”
Let’s see, what else? My pride-and-joy Billy (dog) is doing really well, sleeping through the sound of my nephew Zach screaming in the front room at this very moment. The ‘rents are babysitting, so my brother and sorta-sis-in-law could go to a movie, but they just left a bottle of formula for the baby, which he has never had before. Even I, who knows sweet-fuck-all about four month old babies, can’t help but wonder...why you wouldn’t just pump your own sweet booby juice and leave that? Like he’s gonna just accept the new formula, that he’s never had before, from these random freaks?
Or maybe he would? What the feck do I know.
Anyway, my baby Billy is healing nicely, though there are some bizarre changes in his behavior that are somewhat troubling. Normally a very laid back, docile pooch, he has taken to growling and barking at strangers when we are out on our walks. He only used to do that at night, but now he is doing it during the day, too. I don’t know if he’s just grumpy cuz he’s hurting, but I don’t think that’s it - when we get home he still acts like a hyper teenager, jumping on the bed and throwing his toys around and chasing Chiclet and Moo Moo in the back garden. So maybe he’s just turning into an arsehole in his old age, just like his mum.
Other than that...I’m still on the waiting list for Day Program, at which time I’m sure I will have more to bitch about, as I fight the process every step of the way. I really don’t want to gain anymore fecking weight, and am struggling with the rigorous weight requirements for this program. Obviously I am medically stable, or they wouldn’t have released me from hop-sital, and they are the ones who tell us not to be so obsessed with the number on the scale - so why can’t they just let me come to program and progress at my own pace? It’s stressing me out.
Sometimes I wonder if I want to go anymore. I went to into hop-sital to stop bingeing and purging, and to stop smacking myself with drugs and alcohol, and I have done that. I am also actively pursuing my recovery every day on my own, now that I am out. I haven’t regressed - my eating disorder is still in remission, and I have almost two months clean and sober. Do I really need to go to Day Program when I am pursuing a program on my own? It could be another month of waiting to get in. In the meantime, I am working every day on a program that works RIGHT NOW.
But, and it’s a very big, fleshy but(t), let us not forget that I am nuts. So who fucking knows what I should be doing/thinking/exposing myself to, n’est pas?
Oh, and before anyone starts having kittens, I would like to point out that I am still on the waiting list for Day Program, and am still planning on going. I am just putting my honest thoughts out there, cuz that’s what I’m told I am supposed to do. So please, don’t freak out and deliver any small, domestic animals on me, I am still going to Day Program, and I still want to get better.
Gobble gobble gobbledegook. Did you know that gobbledegook is a real word? It’s in the dictionary.
Oh God. I need to go find a life.
Posted by Henrietta Collins at 9:52 PM