So I started writing something that is not Book 2…Of course, I am still working hard on Book 2, but it kind of took a backseat with finals and reading Helter Skelter (which I finished, and oh my gosh I have so many thoughts on it). I am physically writing Book 2, and I like that much better. I prefer handwriting things first, then making notes in the margins and whatnot. It makes for a much better second draft, in my opinion. However, I started typing up a little something that is sort of an autobiography/memoir type of thing, except that all the names and some details are changed. Is it Book 3? I am not quite sure yet. I have not decided if it is something I am going to publish or something I want to keep close to me. Should I not publish it, I hope to release it in parts on the blog.
But because of the topic and plot line of this story, I have been both struggling and finding ease with writing it. I know those are two opposite things, but when I tell you why, it will make more sense.
If you have read anything on my blog, you will know that I talk a lot about my eating disorder and depression. I kept it all inside of me for so long that I have a lot to share, and I take a lot of pride in being able to get my story out there. The words just kind of flow out of me when I write about these parts of my life. It is not difficult for me to express with words (albeit a lot of them) my thoughts on my depression and eating disorder. Yes, it is hard to explain to somebody who does not understand, but somehow I find a way to make my point across. Writing about it all is very therapeutic for me, so I do it often.
On the other hand, the story begins my senior year, when my eating disorder first took a powerful hold on my life. I am writing it in the first person, from the point of view of a girl who does not know yet all the downfall she is about to face. Reaching back into that dark time (without disclaiming the consequences I now know all too well) is very difficult for me. Taking on that point of view has me seeing the world with that distorted lens, and sometimes, that can be hard to bounce back from if I spend a lot of time in that mindset. Because of this, I am trying to keep my writing sessions short and sweet so I can return to the real world more easily.
The other day, I went over to Michael’s because he made brownies as a celebration for me making it through Lent without eating chocolate (or donuts. I must say, this was a rough Lenten season). Before going over to his apartment, I sat on campus with my laptop and began writing away on Maybe Book 3. It gave me a lot of anxiety to write because I am going through the very early stages of my downward spiral. Eating brownies sounded like the worst idea ever. When I got to Michael’s and he brought the brownies out (Triple Chocolate Ghirardelli–a fabulous choice), I made him ask me what I had eaten that day out loud.
I know that if I admit those things out loud, I can actually hear how ridiculous I sound for thinking about restricting or forgoing a food I love. Needless to say, I ate the brownies.
This week, since it has been “syllabus week,” there has been a lack of assignments and work for my classes, so I have been able to read and write a lot more than during the rest of the quarter. Spending my time with that story (and the wildness of Helter Skelter) has put a burden on my brain. Cal Poly had today off school, which means day parties galore. I really wanted to go out with my friends to our old stomping grounds, but I really was not in the mood for it. I went out anyway to try and force myself out of this funk, and it did work for a bit. I left earlier than my friends, but I did end up having a good time. It was just tiring to bring myself back from all these emotions.
You’ve heard about method action, right? And immersing yourself into a role? Many actors go through major weight changes and attitude changes in preparation for a certain role, and writing this story is a lot like that for me. Obviously, I do not want, nor am I planning, to relapse, but reliving such a dark time in my life is not all rainbows and sunshine.
It does, however, remind me of who I have become since then and how much I have grown up. As I write from the point of view of eighteen year-old me, I realize just how much I have changed. Some things that happened (some of which I let happen, willingly) I would never put myself through today. Present Day Me would stick up for herself and be much more assertive than Past Me. I hope that, should other people ever read this story, they see how twisted my logic was and take something good away from it. I hope that anyone in the same situation can discover that that life is not worth living. I was young and naive and I did not know all that life had to offer me, so I took things for what they were an accepted that I was not worth much. I now know differently. I know that I deserve more than what I got and than who I was.
I am better than I sold myself to be.
And these days when all I want is to stay home and when Bad Thoughts creep back into my mind about the people in my life, I have to remind myself of that. I so often feel like I do not belong, and in a way, I don’t. It is just that. I am so much different than people around me, and that kind of puts me in a strange position. I have always been one to go against the grain, and that is what makes me me. Sometimes I need to be a loner and remind myself of who I am. This time is not going to be like the last times, no matter how much Bad Thoughts try to infiltrate my brain again. I will not let that happen.
I am better than I sold myself to be.
Oh, and happy April Fool’s Day! Go prank somebody or something.