My doc upped the Celexa to 20mg. I had a few instances where I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't do to sleep for a few hours. But overall I'm sleeping better.

I'm feeling better in the sense that the darker thoughts have faded away. I'm not as wrapped up in the bad memories as I was before. But I'm still very awkward and nervous socially and that makes me feel bad. I just don't dwell on it as much anymore.

I also saw a APN at a counseling center. She thinks I have ADD. She prescribed me with Vyvanse and Guanfesen. Said they should help with the bulimia and trichotillomania.

Tomorrow is my follow-up with the doctor about my Celexa.

I can say that I’ve definitely been sleeping better. And just getting more sleep has given me a little more energy.

As far as moods go? I can definitely say it’s done nothing. I’d started feeling better since before receiving the script. It’s nothing out of the ordinary for me to feel better about myself for a while before I return to a state of gloomy self-hate, misery, and wretchedness.

Lately I’ve been stuck in a heightened sense of awareness. I feel like prey and I am increasingly uncomfortable making any attempt at conversation.

None of this is abnormal for me.

The last time I went to WW the lady who weighed me made me feel so bad I quit.

When I decide to lose weight I drop pounds quickly. I usually lose several pounds right away then the next week I’ll gain a pound back and that’s the pattern- that’s what’s normal for me. But Tall Lady wouldn’t listen to me. EVERY time I got on the scale she’d tsk-tsk me. “Are you eating enough? You know you can’t starve yourself.” “Well, what did you do wrong? You need to figure out why you gained 2 lbs.” “When I lost I did it 0.2 lbs at a time.”

I kept telling her I’m not doing anything different week-to-week it’s just how my body losses weight. I even have my old WW books from years ago showing my progress. But she wouldn’t listen to me.

One week I did mess up a little- I ate a jar of my gramma’s garlic oyster crackers. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but when I got on the scale I gained 4 lbs. Tall Lady didn’t miss her chance, “How does someone gain FOUR POUNDS in ONE WEEK?” She said just as I was getting off the scale and said it like she was talking to herself, but loud enough I think almost everyone heard.

I was mortified and devastated. I was so embarrassed it took conscious effort to stay for the meeting. Props for me I didn’t give up right then, but I think my spirit was crushed and lay slowly dying. The next week I came back and lost 6 lbs. Net 2 lbs lost. I figured I must’ve retained water from all the sodium in the crackers. Not that Tall Lady cared she just called me over and recited her weight loss and reiterated that I shouldn’t starve myself.

For those of you who have never been to a WeightWatchers meeting weigh-ins are supposed to be kept confidential and only revealed if the participant offers that information. She violated my right to privacy and respect. Now I feel bad because I didn’t speak up, and I let her discourage me from my journey. It’s almost 9 months later and I know I’ve gained back all but 5 lbs of when I started last time.

I’d really like to go back, but I’m afraid of being targeted again.

Oh god I hate to go here, but I think I need to.

I was around 10 years when I was having dinner with some cousins(?) and their mother (honestly I’m not sure if we are related at all). All three of us kids were around the same age and their mom would babysit me sometimes. We were all getting really giggly and wound up and the older boy wanted something to drink, so I thought it would be super funny if I said, “Can I help you to some breast milk?” as I gestured to my chest. The whole table went quiet and everybody looked at me like I was a predator.

OMG I was instantly so ungodly embarrassed. In my head it sounded funny, but aloud it was lewd. I don’t think I’ve ever told that story to anyone; it’s one of my flashbulb memories.

How can I explain it? Yes I was trying to be flirtatious, but back then I didn’t understand why. In fact, I felt like a train slowing derailing. I felt like I knew a disaster was coming but I couldn’t stop it. I felt like if I got him to be attracted to me then I would be more valuable.

I’ve had to fight the urge to flirt with every man I am in contact with. It doesn’t matter if I like them or not I need to know that I’m desirable. Ger was the cousin from the story and I wasn’t even attracted to him. Maybe I was just becoming the pervert my mom always accused me of being. You know how I love to make her right.

I was like every other little girl: I loved playing with my Barbies. After school I would close my door and play with my dolls. One of my favorite things to do would was taking my Barbies through a typical day in Barbie-World. She’d get out of bed, make breakfast, go shopping, go swimming, eat dinner, and go to bed. One reason why I loved this game was all the costume changes: asleep needs pajamas, swimming needs swimsuit, and shopping needs casual dress. I loved mixing up the Barbie cloths I had to try to come up with some new style.

I never knew when it would happen because she never knocked, but my Mom would burst into my room fairly frequently. Whenever she did it scared me, and she would often catch me in the middle of a costume change. She’d look at me and half-joking/half-serious say, “Why are your Barbies always NAKED?” She’d really emphasize the word ‘naked’ making it lewd and slimy. She’d laugh like she was joking but then stare at me, waiting for an answer. I’d tell her the truth but she wouldn’t listen. I’d point out that all my other Barbies are dressed, but she just shook her head and would say things like, “You are doing something with those dolls...” I felt violated. She would do this fairly often; even telling it at the dinner table with my stepsiblings and stepdad. Honestly it was more of a relief when she tried to involve others because they didn’t see anything wrong with what I was doing. They usually had a laugh and let it go. But Mom would keep bringing it up and laughing about it. She kept saying ‘naked’ over and over again with that terrible emphasis that completely filled me with shame.

It got to the point where I’d be playing in my room, hear someone coming and I’d hide my toys or freeze up until they went away. Then they’d catch me mid-hide and think I was doing something bad or nasty.

I tried to be a good sport about it when I was teased, but when I did laugh about the naked thing or whatever Mom would just kept going and going until I couldn’t laugh anymore. She wouldn’t let me deal with things in a healthy way. She just wouldn’t stop until I was near tears. It was just humiliating and aggravating. I felt so impotent and useless.

After awhile I stopped playing with my Barbies whenever Mom was home. I couldn’t stand it. I was starting to get ill. Eventually I stopped playing with them altogether. Yeah, I know, we all have to stop playing with dolls at some point. I stopped because it wasn’t worth the humiliation anymore. Mom always found a way to take away the things I loved the most.