Day 1...ish

Okay, enough with introductions.

Today was a...decent day. My brother asked me to make him lunch so I made a simple buffalo chicken dip with what was lying around in our fridge. I spread some of it on about 7 small crackers throughout the day. My mother made chicken soup in the evening. I usually hate eating her chicken soup because she puts so much oil in it. I mean, it tastes great but it's certainly not the healthiest soup. I can't ask her to change it though, because the slightest form of criticism will send her over the edge. I once asked her to add lemon juice into the tuna she makes because my aunt did once and it was really good. She got so mad at me... I feel I've adopted her behaviors because I can't seem to take any criticism, constructive or not, as anything other than a personal attack. Wow, rambled a bit there. Anyway, I ate half a bowl of chicken soup. Mostly broth and green beans with a few scraps of chicken to appease her.

I'm really nervous about tomorrow, though. I'm going to my mom's work with her because she wants to do some shopping before her monthly massage. Of course, this means lunch. At a restaurant. I guess it depends where we go, but I'm still feeling really anxious about it. Hopefully that doesn't turn out horrible.

This past Friday I slept over a good friend's apartment. She lives by the Grove so we got really drunk and ended up walking to the Cheesecake Factory. We started out with chicken wings which I devoured in about 3 minutes before running off to the bathroom to throw it all up. I didn't bother trying to purge quietly because I was drunk and my inhibitions were low. I walked out the stall and two older women were GLARING at me. I went back to the table and my friend joked about me going off to vomit because I was gone for so long. I sort of chuckled. Our waitress brought the pasta out (we were sharing one plate) and we both picked at it a little. Luckily, it sucked and my friend thought so too so it wasn't so strange that we barely ate it. We went back to hers where I gobbled up some aspirin and fell asleep. I'm sure tomorrow won't be nearly the same experience, but we'll see.


In non-food related news, my partner came back from his two-week vacation in Thailand. It was such a breath of fresh air to have him gone that long. Of course, once he returned, more of my stress and anxiety did too. I don't know why it's so hard for me to just let him go. It's happened twice before, but not initiated by me. I guess that's where the problem lies. I HATE breaking up with people. And I know it's better than leading someone on. But I feel I have some sort of loyalty to him since we've been together so long and we've broken up twice already. It's like... I fought for us so hard and now I just want it to be over. Like, he did ME the favor by taking me back. Now, the feeling of his hands on my body makes me sick. His voice makes me sick. The things he talks about, all his opinions, his fucking mustache, his shirts, his teeth, his nailbeds, EVERYTHING makes me so angry and disgusted. He's not a disgusting person... I'm just deranged. My life would be so much simpler without the commitment of a relationship. I can't deal with the responsibility of social interaction and having to maintain any modicum of intimiacy between us.

I just want to be left alone. I want to fester and waste and rot alone in my room with no one bothering me.