My bags are packed and I’m all ready. Tomorrow the cab will pick me up at 10:30 and take me to Logan Airport. I’ll fly to Seattle via Newark and spend the night in Seattle tomorrow night, then take the bus to Port Townsend Friday afternoon, and arrive at the college at around 4pm.
Puzzle arrived safely at Pooch Palace today at 2.
Am I nervous? I was very nervous right before leaving Puzzle off, but now less so. I’ve zipped up my suitcase. All I have to do is leave tomorrow.
I guess sometimes the time spent traveling I might reflect on things. Like how cool it is that I’m actually graduating.
Like how cool it is that I am alive. I want so much to live. I don’t want to die. I tell myself this every day and I promise myself that I will work toward recovery from this stupid ED instead of burying myself in it.
I also am amazed at the fact that my family knows nothing of it. I saw my mother briefly last month. I think she noticed a change in my appearance and said nothing. She was visiting, and left quickly. She is totally clueless. She’s been clueless all my life.
I told both of my brothers that I was restricting, and they both told me that it was “nothing to worry about.” Both of them said that sometimes they don’t eat much. (Gee, I think there’s a difference…) I haven’t mentioned it since. I just act like everything’s fine. I guess they wouldn’t want to hear about it even if they knew.
It is weird having something going on that my treatment team knows about, and my friends know about, and CYBERSPACE knows about, but my own flesh and blood–clueless.
When I lived with them in high school it was the same way, at least with my parents. All my friends knew I had problems. My teachers suspected. I wrote about it passionately in my journal. I was aching to get help. But my parents always believed that high school was a very happy time for me. They were–to repeat the word–clueless. They were blinded by their own ideas of what a Jewish suburban family in the 1970’s should be.
I believe my brothers see me as some kind of alarmist. They think that I fret over little things too much, and that when I got upset that I was restricting, they saw it as making too much of something that mattered little. Well, get over it, guys.
I’m going to graduation and I’m going to have a great time. I’m going to be an MFA soon! Like Sunday! Everyone says I should think of this as a whole new life for myself. In a way, I do. In a way, I can hardly wait. I do have some plans. I’m less scared than I was because my thesis is in “final” form (i.e. prepared for the binder) and all my paperwork is done. I should think of this as one of the happiest moments of my life.