300.

That's right. This is Sparta, and tonight we dine in Hell.

Oops. That's every night for me.

No, this is my three hundredth post. I suppose I could have waited until I had more important things to write about, but feh.

I'm watching Earth 2100. It's a documentary that was on ABC back in 2009. It's extremely creepy, and follows the life of a fictional girl who was "born" in 2009 and who witnesses the devastating effects of climate change; a collapsing economy; disease; the Earth's population reaching 15 billion; massive immigration of refugees from countries that become uninhabitable. Now, of course, scientists have called "global warming" into serious question... but even if you ignore that part of it, this documentary is scary as hell. And although this may indeed make me a hippie, I don't see anything wrong with wanting to care for the environment anyway... and that is exactly what this documentary makes me want to do.

...

Enough rambling. I feel slightly hypomanic again, but perhaps that is just the thrill of anticipation: I move out this weekend. I am so ridiculously excited to spend a weekend putting together my own room, and then relaxing with my friends (and also by myself) without worrying about a drunken Boy breaking or vomiting on any of my things. Or bothering me at all, for that matter. I told him that I do not want him contacting me when intoxicated- ever- whether it be by phone, Facebook, or other. He already spent last weekend (my final full weekend in the apartment here) drunk. And yes, that includes Friday night, which was the night before I had to get up early and work at the clinic. I had asked him specifically not to drink that night, but he did anyway. And yes, I was much more tired the next day than I should have been. I was very nervous about doing a perfect job- I don't have a lot of confidence in myself as it is- and being tired doesn't help with my concentration. He didn't care. I was angry, but decided not to bother with it. I'm proving my point well enough by leaving, I think.

...

It is cold out, but refreshingly so. Classic fall weather. It was cold, gray, and rainy earlier, but the sky is clear blue now. I think I will go for a walk later; alone, of course, since T isn't really into going for walks.

...

I have been eating more lately, and I feel disgusting. I am still under 110 pounds, but that is no comfort to me; I want to be one hundred again because, hey, I was before. Recently, even. So there's no reason why I shouldn't stay that way.

I am a hedonist. I indulge, in every way imaginable; I (used to) do drugs, I spend compulsively (not anymore, of course), I binge eat... I don't do these things because I am spoiled or selfish, I do them to comfort myself. The only way to stop this is to go in the opposite direction: starve myself. When I force myself to focus solely on food, calories, weight, and exercise, everything else just seems so much more... simple. My mood swings even out. My anxiety is smoothed over; a dark, flattened specimen under glass. I don't giggle obnoxiously or act like an awkward doof in public. I smile politely and remain quiet, like a mature, intellectual woman should.

Like now. I am hypomanic, or at least pseudo-hypomanic, and I am ashamed to tell you that I may or may not have eaten chocolate today. And a pumpkin spice muffin. And leftover macaroni and cheese. And, to top it off, a vanilla caramel cappuccino. I binge like crazy when I am hypomanic, and so although I had been eating quite little up until recently... this is disgusting.

I can feel it in my stomach, still. I would like to purge, but the veins in the side of my skull are pulsing; I can feel pressure behind my right eye, a sharp slice of pain lancing diagonally from my right temple to the bridge of my nose. If I purge, I will get a migraine, guaranteed. I will probably get one anyway, but if I don't purge, then it will not come as quickly, and will be less severe.

I am disgusting.

I think when I get into the new place this weekend, things will be better. I'm going to be buying my own food, so I will be fully responsible for everything that goes into my mouth. No excuses. I need to learn discipline. I need to focus.

I need to focus.



xx.