If I were brattier, and perhaps I will anyway, I'll cry when I don't get a room that I like. I cry too easily, I've found and somewhere along the way I have lost the ability to swallow my tears with little to no effort. Now it takes a concentrated epic sort of battle with my throat and eyes to keep things inside. I suppose that's good? It makes me feel manipulative, but I can't help it. I'd like to blame it on the desperation that came from holding it in for far too long before now. I think the long term effects of dying and being too skinny are probably far more reaching than I think. I've devoted too much time and thought to deciding what parts of me where there before and what arose with so much else. I don't take my calcium pills as well as I should, which means I'll probably fall over and break my hip at a disturbingly young age which ought to terrify me far more than it does. And I think I still eat like a retarded person (and by retarded, I mean stupid malnourished girl), and I don't know the condition of my heart, but I like to think it's doing all right, but I'm out of shape and lazy and not nearly so pretty as I used to think I was and I'm still crazy anxious at times and worried easily about being too big for my body and I think I might have fucked up my digestive system too, but that might just be a bad diet, so who knows?

A nice thing about going home will be being entirely in charge of I eat and what I do so far as exercise and activity and such. All that time to devote to recuperation and balance and being a normal person, good and proper. I just don't have the necessary time and resources here to do that, but I feel like if I'm truly focused on being healthy this summer, I can get it to a point that I can maintain over the next year at Reed. So good. That's my plan.

But that's only a plan for my life for the next few months or so. What about my big life? What about the classes I take next year that I have to register for next week in preparation for my life? What do I want to be, to do, to live for? It's a fantastical idea. Talking this afternoon, Gm and I were puzzling over the idea that feasibly, within several years, I could be all married and babied and so on (nothing of the sort now, thank you very much) and that's startling, but certainly not close enough that I actually think about it or devote valuable worry time to it. I have better things on my mind.