Early to Bed, Early to Rise, Makes You Weary, Teary, and Bleary-Eyed

I woke up at quarter past 3, got out of bed at quarter to 4. Couldn’t fall back asleep. Such sweet, happy thoughts.

Bittersweet, though.

I’m down a couple more pounds. Not that it matters to anyone else. It almost doesn’t matter to me, right now.

I know some people are worried about me. Please don’t worry. I’m just trying to process my feelings. Face them, rather than numb them with food, which is what I would’ve done, even just over a month ago.

My therapist says I am very emotive, meaning I pretty much wear my heart right out on my sleeve. I can’t hide how I’m feeling from anyone, I never could. I cry easily, I am quick-tempered, super sensitive, and certain boys always made me blush. Nothing I could do.

I’ll be okay. I’ll get through it. This, too, shall pass.

An NSV: even my tops, now, have more give. Stuff I haven’t worn in almost a year, I’ll be able to wear in maybe two or three more weeks without feeling self-conscious. The sweater I have on today is, believe it or not, a small. It would never close around my chest, but that’s the beauty of open-front sweaters.

Evan teased me about my skirt (skort) one day, but he’s upstairs, now and doesn’t really talk to me, anymore, even when he does see me. Or if he does, he’s very reserved. Just not the same.

When Rick goes, I’ll have no one to talk to.

Angelo, Other Evan, Nate, and Eddie are nice enough to me, they’re just not as nice as Rick is, and Evan was. I don’t know them.

I guess it will just be incentive for me to try to move up. Or on.

I hope for a better day today. But I’m not expecting it. At least that way, I won’t be so let down if it goes wrong, again.

Pessimistic, maybe. That’s just where I’m at, right now, folks. It’ll get better.