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Feeling Scared
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By:
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La_Nouvelle
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Mood:
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Anxious
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Date:
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Aug 25, 2008
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Music:
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None
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So
I
made
myself
a
schedule
to
follow.
A
list
of
do's
and
don'ts.
Typical
for
me,
always
attempting
to
control
my
little
universe,
line
things
up
just
so,
tame
the
demons.
Never
works.
Not
for
long
anyway.
Last
time
I
made
it
about
2-3
weeks
on
whatever
plan
I'd
devised.
Usually
I
make
it
a
few
hours.
If
I
even
make
it
out
of
bed
when
I
say
I
will.
Then
I'm
eating
foods
I
swore
to
myself
I
wouldn't
or
laying
on
the
sofa
for
hours
on
end
when
I
promised
mysef
I'd
do
chores. Today
the
alarm
went
off
at
5:00
and
my
inner
self
screamed
and
fought
to
remain
in
bed
and
blissfully
shut
off
from
my
world.
But
today
I
forced
it,
forced
it
out
of
bed
and
into
sweats
and
onto
the
street.
Something
I
hadn't
done
for
3
months.
For
the
first
mile
I
raged
at
myself.
What
are
you
doing,
you
should
be
in
bed,
asleep,
this
sucks,
it's
dark,
you
could
get
killed,
it's
not
gonna
change
anything
anyway.
Just
like
a
petulant
child.
You
don't
have
to
powerwalk
I
argued
back.
Stroll
for
sh*t's
sake,
I
don't
care.
Just
move
one
foot
in
front
of
another
and
shut
the
hell
up.
By
the
second
mile
I
knew
my
inner
voice
was
wrong,
it
would
change
things.
I
may
not
lose
even
one
pound
but
I
would
feel
better,
more
alive,
more
engaged
with
the
world.
Being
out
of
bed
before
9:00, taking
a walk,
taking
a
shower,
eating
breakfast,
cleaning
up
the
house
a
little.
It
all
matters,
it's
all
good.
I
begin
to
wonder
why
I
fought
it
so
hard. But
I
know
why.
It's
because
I
don't
want
to
see
or
hear
or
feel
anything.
I
just
want
to
numb
it
all
with
food
and
sleep
and
TV.
Escape.
I
signed
up
with
a
counselor
who
specializes
in
eating
disorders
today.
A
part
of
me
was
so
incredibly
relieved
when
she
said
she'd
take
me
and
my
insurance
would
cover
it.
Like
I'd
just
finally
found
a
lifeline
to
grab
onto.
Then
another
part
of
me jumped
in,
telling
me I'm
overreacting.
That
I
don't
really
have
a
problem.
I'm
blowing
it
out
of
proportion.
What
I
have
is
a
lack
of
willpower.
Laziness.
The
depression
is
simply
a
lack
of
appreciation
for
the
blessings
bestowed
upon
me.
The
anxiety...
well
that
just
means I
lack
self
confidence, I'm
an
idiot, I'm
weak.
Pull
it
together.
You
don't
need
a
therapist,
you
just
need
to
stop
being stupid! She
was
concerned
that
she
couldn't
get
me
in
for
2
weeks.
I
wasn't.
I've
been
dealing
with
this
for years
I
said.
2
weeks
is
nothing.
When
did
the
anxiety
start
she
asked?
I
don't
remember
it
never
existing
I
responded.
It's
been
there
since
my
first
memory.
What's
your
first
memory,
she
was
smart
not
to
ask.
The
night
my
father
shot
himself,
I
would've
had
to
respond. I
also
didn't
tell
her
I'm
scared
to
go
to
therapy.
Scared
they're
going
to
look
at
me
and
listen
to
me
and
say
"What
the
hell
are
you
doing
here,
you're
ok!
You're
fine,
you're
not
sick.
You
don't
have
real
problems.
You
want
to
see
real
problems,
hang
around
for
my
2:00
appt.
Now
SHE'S
got
real
problems!
You're
just
wasting
my
time.
Get
the
hell
out
of
here
and
start
appreciating
what
you
have!" Deep
breath
in.
Deep
breath
out.
Don't
go
there,
don't
make
it
more
than
it
needs
to
be
girl.
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