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Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

you said you made a time machine?

May 19th, 2007 (11:54 pm)



For some (in)sane reason I decided that in this interim period of my life, while mostly being spent healing physically, it should also be spent working on my mental capacities and those things I feel I have lost in the past four years.

I began reading a book written by a recovered annorexic, about eating disorders being more that just getting to the point of being alright with just eating and weight. it covers a gamut of issues related to both the inner-self, relationships with people and relationships with society and how each can effect a person with an eating disorder. the book cites not only numerous personal memoirs writting but specific women who come from very different backgrounds who have faced and overcome eating disorders. the book also cites so many scientific studies, most recent, because there was not even a name for bulimia until the 80s.

my family's history of alcoholism, OCD and depression make me something like 45% more likely to have developed my disorder, in addition to numerous other factors.

this book is funny because i never wanted to identify before with people who had these disorders. I saw them as weak, and being weak is something i never want to appear. i also see patterns within relationships that they have had and the ones i have had. as one woman stated "he didn't let me be strong."

I wish i could type this out with more coherence and order, but mostly i want to get down all the muck that has been stirred with so much self-examination.

there is such a difference in the ability to tell and story and just state something and the four years and state, i just began to state things as they were, for sake of berevity, yes, but also for protection. the numbness that i allowed to creep in as my freshman year progressed was my own personal cage, not to keep me in, but to keep everyone out.

it is apparent in my relationship choice, choosing the boy who lived 400 miles away, who only came to me electronically and at various times in the city on my own grounds. he was the fairytale, the escape, the dupe to all that was really going on in my life and he ultimately suffered the most. Cruelly, but was I not the victim to my own sickness? Of everyone, he should have been first aware, but he only knew what i told him, so i met with the catch 22 of my life. i was desperate for anyone to see and know what a terrible darkness had settled on my mind, my body and my soul and still i plodded onward- i managed to complete my sophmore year with minimal decline in grades and secured an internship in chicago for the summer.

summer in chicago should be in the dreams of everyone. it is the perfect season to expereience all the city had to offer, but at the same time i had a job which i not only loathed but managed to make me doubt any ability i could possibly offer the professional industry. so many days i would count down the hours and minutes and seconds until i could exit the building and walk along the lake michigan shore. the weight gain came with anxiety about work but more-so with drinking. that summer i never drank more. alcohol was a simple, easy escape but also the social utility for me, a 20 year old with friends who were 23 and older. the phrase
'if i had a quarter for...' everytime someone emphasized my age while there...it began to be another point of loathing. i was too immature.

growing up far too quickly, led me to notice the softness not apparent before in my hips, the squishyness in my stomach. the size 25 pants i had purchased in februsry now would no longer close.

one fateful day, near the end of june i was cleaning out the housekeeping storage room and came across a scale. it glints evilly in my memory because it was between the moment i found it and the numbers flashed on its screen that my life as a bulimic began.

the scale read 127.

the rest of the day flashed by in a panic state. stopping eating was just too hard at that point, and i berrated myself for not being strong enough to just stop putting the needless calories in my mouth. that night i remember ordering food and eating it, (whole wheat pasta with steamed veggies and no fat sauce) and just feeling completely sick with myself. entering the bathroom i did not first think of puking, i first just looked at myself and saw hatred. then i puked. with just thinking of puking, i found that i could just do it. most bulimics have to mess around with fingers and gagging but i found that with just the thought, a little retching, i could throw up everything i just ate. the giddiness was that of a kid who just got a new toy on christmas, something they had wanted all year. (the answer to my prayers...)

this answer began to rule my entire life. throwing up became second nature, i would eat, and go use the restroom, sometimes go in the middle of meals, purge and return. what didnt help were the millions of ana-mia sites online each and everyone with their own jabbing little secrets and posts of who did and didnt eat and who hated themselves most for eating however many calories and who worked out more and who loved fucking mary kate olsen most. it bacame my quite strength. my friend. my silent friend when nothing else made sense.

in the course of any day, i would puke between 3-12 times, depending on how much i ate, how much i slipped and sometimes how much i wanted to punish myself. there were times i wouldnt want to puke really, but had eaten something my mind had deemed "NOT GOOD" and into the bathroom i would go to rid my stomache of every little bit of the bad. there were few people who even would have guessed this, i am sure my roommate didn't know because of her shock when i finally told her- one was this boy, A_____ and the other was R_____.

to compare and contras these two boys and the relationship i have with both is to, one, portray myself as under the influence of this disease and also, give a picture as how it effects relationships.

With A_____ everything was always different. I loved him deeply but was hurt and faced a very tumultous past and hard decisions in which I ended up walking away from him. Sometime while in chicago I felt the need to contact him, and wrote him a letter. I am grateful to this moment that I did. He and I met when I got back from Chicago, and he saw straight through my bulimic mask. We sat together and I laid out my faults to him, not to ask for understanding but to scare him away. A____ always had the ability to tear me apart and it frightened me, so i used my purging as armor. After that night it was a long while until I heard from him again.

During my freshman year, I used to see R____ a lot. He worked at the coffee shop in the dorms next door, and we went to a lot of the same shows. He and I met, and he was sweet and kind, and generous and fun and silly and most of all he made me feel good about myself. There was not a single thing wrong with him, but I still kept myself at a distance from him- mentally. When I told him about my problem, with tears in my eyes, he resigned to help me. So, there I was, expecting him to flee, fast as he possibly could, and I was there, with a boy who wanted to date me despite what had become my life. R____ went with me to my first doctors visits, and held me when i cried and encouraged me when i berated myself for eating too much, but then something happened. My mind began playing games, and whereas purging would give me a sense of relief all my own, I began to feel shameful, that i would disappoint him, and then in turn hated myself all the more. i craved his support and love and approval but in turn hated it, hated what it made me feel about myself. my eating disorder was no longer only mine.

i vowed that to get well, and get well properly i would have to do it alone. alone is one of the most frigtening words i can think of, but so far-

i began seeing a psychologist in late july of 2006. with her support and weekly appointments i have just barely begun to reconstruct the person i knew i was.

somewhere in that summer this happened, and it concerns A_____:

http://estella-mae.livejournal.com/2006/07/18/


that night i began to write in a little red book, honestly and faithfully and more truthfully than i had been in years. the book turned into a lengthy letter to him, a confession of everything, and a sort-of therapy for myself.

the year passed and i cannot describe classes or peole in school so much as i can describe wanting to see him, wondering about his travels and then i get into my head that going to key west would be good. since that trip, A___ has not been far from my mind and I, not far from his.

Seeing A____ has been an interesting and important last piece of recovery. He reminds me of everything I once dreamed I would be, all my girlish and crazy fantasies and those that are not so wild. There is my most basic love for the written word, the painted image, music.

this summer, no matter how separate he and I are, I spend it thinking of him and knowing he is proud.
There are drawing classes to take, design to consided, tshirts to work on, photos to take, words to fill a plain black journal.

and i know in september, i will be ready. for anything.

(its late and i dont care about spelling errors, coherence or anything at this point.)

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

in addition to previous post

May 13th, 2007 (01:32 pm)


(I am drowning in assholes)

Chef Sherwin,

Because of my failing grade for the class last semester I have to re-take your class first session this summer-unfortunately I am also having knee surgery Monday, May 14 at 10am. This has been scheduled for 2 months.

I will be in the hospital for 2 days and then return home for the rest of the week. I will not be able to make it to class until at least Monday, May 21. I will be on crutches for 3 months, and be unable to bend my leg for the first 6 weeks.

I will provide you a doctors note which states all of this.

Jenn Wright.


his response:

Jenifer,
I am sorry that you are having surgery. Please drop the class. It only meets for six weeks. There are three events to be scheduled. Why didn't you see me prior to the end of the year and I would have been able to talk to you about getting an incomplete and finishing in that way? It is too late now.




1) SPELL MY NAME RIGHT, YOU IDIOT

2) I would have talked to you during the semester if i had any inkling of a thought that you were going to FUCKING FAIL ME- especially after all the work I put into your goddamn fucking Les Gourmets.


Right now I just cried for about 20 minutes- I DESPERATELY DO NOT WANT TO STAY IN EL for another semester. I just....but- I guess I have resigned to deal with it as it comes. I am not going to change my surgery. It is still tomorrow at 10am. If i have to drop the class-

this is NOT something I needed especially after being at home for less than 12 hours and already fighting with my mom. Well, not so much fight, as just walking away from her bullshit. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!

so. happy summer. right.

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

(no subject)

May 11th, 2007 (12:29 pm)



I was advised yesterday to make note of all the things that had happened in the past 2 years of being in The school of hospitality business, that has made me disenchanted with the major, the school and the people. these include:


-During the last week of classes before finals in 2005, I was told to disenroll because I made my advisor aware of my Eating Disorder. I went so far as to meet with the Dean of the school and told her I didnt want to disenroll.

-Sales class, my professor forcing me to spend $100 dollars to change my flight time because it interfered with the ONLY retake option he was offering for an exam. The thing was, the flight was for a SCHOOL RELATED event. His reasoning "You don't HAVE to go to NYC."

-Les Gourmets 2006 and the infamous Lindsay Sullenger, recieving no credit for what I did on NO BUDGET.

-Finance Summer of 2006. Missing the first week due to the death of my grandmother, finishing the class, recieving an "I", the professor never being in his office hours and the "I" turning to a 0.0

-Being advised to take two classes at the same time, meaning literally, the same days and time, and failing them both, while my advisor was fully aware of my struggles and problems that came related to my eating disorder.

-Les Gourmets 2007, making the school look amazing, doing an extra dinner for the president and doing the dinner for the class and still FAILING HB 485.


I am going to type this all up, and go to the ombudsman at some point this summer.

Normally, I blame myself, but it was shown to me that I was taken advantage of in many cases, my professors being aware of my problems- and even in a normal state of mind, i was misguided.


so. for future refrence- I have no idea why my school is respected so highly.

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

i can't do this anymore.

May 9th, 2007 (05:05 pm)





I failed 3 of my four classes this semester.




Good thing I am such a fuck-up.

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

(no subject)

April 17th, 2007 (11:58 am)



Don't know if this is worth filling out anymore. Refer to my myspace Blog. it seems to be the more happening forum anyway and somehow I've gotten 1700 reads on only 19 posts. maybe someone likes my meaningless blather afterall?

two weeks left in this semester and all I find for school is apathy. its hard for me to do something when i find no passion for it.

upcoming fun:

april 17th (today)- alec's birthday, im mailing him a pretty good gift and THR with jalain tonight
april 20th- President Simon's dinner hosted by the Les Gourmets Eboard, Toga Party @ lauras
april 22nd- Earth day, does anyone really care anymore?
april 24th- HUGE final project due for 485
april 26rh- Breslin bar crawl
april 27 thru 29th- Sandboarding weekend!!
april 30 thru May 4th- finals week
May 5th- commencements (I wont be there)
may 7th- my mom's bday
May 14th- "Jen gets her leg broken and pinned and other fun things" aka my surgery
May 14th thru June 14th- Jen is on crutches and wont be able to bend her left leg
June 14th thru July 14th- Jen reagains 'limited range of motion", still on crutches
July 1- my 22nd birthday
July 14th thru August 14th- Jen walks without crutches
August 14th thru September 14th- Jen attempts to be a normal human being again
September 28th- alec returns.

somwhere in the above will be the launch of my online tshirt store. yes. for sure.

there is the next 5 months of my life.

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

for my own 'piece' of mind.

April 4th, 2007 (07:23 pm)

pieces of the past week...things that I want to remember....

i am already forgetting as i sit here and attempt to focus.


wednesday night
traffic

thursday
bagels am
photos
meeting


friday
les gourmets
lantern shopping
etc

saturday
les gourmets
sleep sleep

sunday
lazy lazy lazy day
sun/rain
movies

monday

tuesday
eye dr
ben folds
homemade mac and cheese

wednesday
back to h
proposition
cuddle

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

lightning in the distance...

March 27th, 2007 (11:30 am)





If I could describe it to you, I would. I would try to make you a part of the fluttering in my chest and the times I have to catch my breath and my limitless smiles and every.little.part.of.it.

Funny, because I find it hard to find a place to begin...6 years ago? Last July? The beginning of college? Last night?

It could easily be a book or a movie with us as the starring roles. I am afloat and above it and around it and have not felt this since he and I had our summer together and it was full.

The sun set around us and kites flew above us as I was gathered in his lap. We turned all the lights off and he whispered things that made my heart skip.

and even after 6 years and one year apart it feels as if not a day had passed, and all that happened in between was just moments, just the smallest incidences between the most important.

i cannot describe how completely thankful i am for everything that has been going on in my life in recent months. clarity. amazing friends and now this.


now. on to the outside!!!

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

monday, monday....

March 26th, 2007 (03:57 pm)


"r.....i.....n....g........we have a whole life to live together (you fucker) but it can't start until you call."




i dont know why i am so....ridiculous about this. why i can't pick up the phone and call.......well there's my answer. i am going to.

right. now.


and i pick up the phone, scroll through the numbers and stop, right when yours is highlighted. why? why the hesistation? doubt? yes. why do i doubt myself? or you? and i make up a million excuses for you- and for myself and then the hole in my stomache keeps sucking at me..and i still have not picked up the phone.

i can. i will. this is real. this is not a movie.

...

and i hate answering machines.

a lot.


i called. rapid-fired a message into oblivion. now i can go on with my life.


ps. my bike is fixed!!! YAY!!

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

the rain was a perfect setting...

March 22nd, 2007 (11:45 am)


A: Why are you nervous?
J: Because you know everything. Because I feel like I have one foot off the edge of a cliff in a running dive into something I can't even imagine
--
A: Even when I wasn't around you, I saw you everywhere, in everything. Then you came to me in my dreams.
--
A: I am sorry I won't be around.
J: It's alright. I mean that. You don't want to be around for that anyway. Ill be grumpy.
--
A: sometimes I feel like we have this wall between us, but then other times...it's like it just disappears when we just want to be comfortable around eachother
--
A: We were sitting here like this and it didn't seem right that I wasn't kissing you. We always seem to save it, the kiss. I am not sure that that is good.
--
J: I feel like I have 10,000 things to tell you right now, but I can't remember a single one of them.
--
A: I have been through some crazy things.
J: and most of my stories are sad.
--
A: I was so afraid when you went to college....that...
J: I'd be sucked in?
A: yeah
J: I think I was for awhile. I am back now.
--
A: It was so strange to me that I could just call you up and see you.
J: It was strange for me too.
--
J: Three years.
A: Three years.
--
J: Who is singing this?
A: Wait, what, why?
J: This is a cover, or this is the original and all I've heard is the cover and now I am going to sound crazy because I can't remember what the band name is. Wait. This is Jose Gonzales. The guy who sings "Crosses"
A: This is that song now.
--
A: Goodnight J___ W___
J: Goodnight A___ Z___

Plain...Jane....Jones [userpic]

the most beautiful...

March 15th, 2007 (12:03 pm)



This time I spoke up. This time I actually said, no- this is not was will be good for us.

A step in the right direction after a week in the surrealities of Key West with the two boys who have become like my other halves.

There was an underlying mission, a secret agenda for my trip- someone who I needed to see.

We were supposed to meet at the corner church. I walked up, heart in my throat, and deflated when he was nowhere in site. I ended up writing him a letter in blue chalk on the sidewalk outside and fought back stinging tears the rest of the night.

I had given up on seeing him, when my aunt telephoned me on her lunch break, two days later. 'We are going on a sunset cruise- on his boat.' my feet gave way beneath me and I was later told that I radiated the rest of the day.

Later that night, as we approached the ship on the docks- I looked up and saw him. (insert movie-esque fade away of everything around us, as we hugged)

It was his night off, but he promised to see me when we returned. I settled my euphoric heart as I sat down, but it later lept when I realized he was staying on the boat with us. He gave up his night off.

He asked me if i would like to go on the bowspirit with him. YES. we sat out on the bowspirit (the pole that extends from the bow on the front of the ship) for the whole cruise. we talked as the sun sank into the sea....

we spent time together after the cruise- which is for me to remember-

but. he will be home to howell for a month soon.

and so.

i am waiting.

//the hope I have is bound to me by the bracelet on my wrist//

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