Bhutto Assassinated.

I don't know why, but I kinda liked her. Either way though, Pakistan is in a LOT more trouble.

Daughter of Destiny--read the last paragraph!

Update: I told you Pakistan was in trouble. Ten dead, rioting across the nation.

When this happens

I get curious about how I want the market and government to be making decisions. In this case, I think the government fucked up. We know that corn-based ethanol is more environmentally damaging than burning gasoline and uses more energy in the long run.

Will the government learn to ask "and then what?" Does the market protect against such problems by its nature? Can the market lead to ultimate decimation or can that be protected? I don't know. . .

BTW, something different for a change.

Fairy Tales

Ah, so I was having a discussion with Dr. B. the other evening and the salience of that discussion really hit home tonight. Therapists have to tell clients fairy tales for "recovery" to happen. I know that in ED treatment they always tell you "it doesn't matter what you look like." or "People don't judge you on your appearance."

That's a fairy tale. It's not just people with ED's who obsess over their weight. People notice what you look like. Too bad, but it's the world we live in. Here's the thing, as I was looking over my ED community discussion board, I saw so many people living under the delusion that their looks don't matter. Make peace with it. You can choose to care a lot and live under the reality that looking really nice and beautiful gives you lots of advantages. There are huge opportunity costs associated with that. For me, high probability of death was the cost. You can choose to ignore the fact that looks matter and go about life however you please. Also has huge opportunity costs. Short people don't make as much money as tall people. Somehow you have to compensate or accept the cost. Or you can choose to do what you can, within the realms of continued survival and enjoyment of life, work to look good.

Here's the thing though, very few people have the psychic courage to chose. Very few people have the freedom necessary to make choices. And when they do, people rarely actually make their own choices. Is my choice to balance between looks matter and highly fatal disease one I made? No. It's one I, Dr. B., Dr. K, Dr. K, Dr H, R, D, M, etc etc made. I just look like the agent. (I know, economic hearsay). Do we even want people to choose? It's hard work and dissonance creating.

I don't know if fairy tales are a good thing, but they definitely are a real thing. I wonder which ones I subscribe to. Probably ones about my worth.

Hmm. . . who knows. . .

Titles are so damn hard. I have started and given up on this post many times. And as a blog post. And as a journal entry. I don't know quite what's going on. I am doing well ED-wise. Really well. Little uncertainties here and there, haven't thrown away DPs yet, but I'm not taking them. Haven't pitched the scale yet, but I don't necessarily get on it very often. And when I do, it doesn't rule my life, just knocks me down a touch. But not to the point where it greatly affects me. Generally, I am happy and content and kinda peaceful.

Maybe it's the weather that has me so. . . well, I don't know, just feeling a little off of late.

Maybe it is my decision to stop seeing my T. (BTW, I stopped seeing my N about a month ago) Neither of these decisions is based upon Ed-logic; both are based on the fact that I was getting a greater benefit not going or really wasn't getting any benefit by going. Too often I ended up frustrated. I actually feel a little guilty for deciding to terminate T and actually ashamed probably, because I am not telling the T, I am simply not going to reschedule.

Maybe it's my decision to not go home for all of winter break, just a few days. It's not that I really want to be home or anything, but my parents seem so distraught. I hate that they act like they love me now, but never did as I was growing up. And their love is couched in insults or degrading of me. For that, and other reasons, I don't want to be around them more than possible. But I hate that they won't accept me for the daughter I am and still try to push me into the son that they wish I were. Whatever it is that is related to me, it isn't good enough. So I have wonderful relationships with profs that are thriving and I am a wonderful student, for my parents, that means that I am not socializing enough with real people. Aren't my profs real people?

So, maybe I am just a tad bit angry. I think I am okay with the fact that I am angry. I understand that I cannot change their behavior. But why do I wish they would change their behavior? I don't really think highly of them as people and I don't really find family to be something special beyond sharing the same gene pool. I wish I could say that I felt no obligation to them, because I don't think I should feel an obligation. It's really silly; they chose to have a child, rear the child, and fund child's education. I shouldn't be obliged to individual choices. But I feel it. I feel like I need to be a good daughter. But I'm smart enough to realize that if I try to be a good daughter, it will kill me, literally and figuratively.

I don't know. It seems like there is probably a great deal I am not saying, but I don't know what it is. Hmm. . . I know it has to be there because I hear Ed whispering, trying to remind me how "wonderful" life was with him. I don't believe him, but on some level, a very disordered level, I wish I did believe him. I don't know why I want to believe him, but I do.

Ridiculous Longings

Hmm. . . Ed's creeping up again. In the most ridiculous way. I miss Ed right now; although I have no desire to go back, I kinda want to. I think I miss the high that comes with starving, purging, losing a pound. I hated the emotional roller coaster, but the roller coaster reminds you that you are alive. Perhaps that is where all the SI urges have been coming from of late. I am longing to go back.

You know what, in a sense, this fits in with the other issues that has been stirring around in my mind: longing for my parents to stop being my parents and just let it be. Yes, I am weird; yes, I am fiercely independent; yes, I am not the "bonding" type; and yes, I have definitely broken several of the mores my family has placed upon me. I wish they would let go. Maybe I am not the daughter they wanted, but I am the daughter they got and I am not going to keep trying to change for them. That will kill me at some point. Here's the thing, I wish they would treat me as the rational agent they see everyone else as and stop treating me as the daughter they wish I were.

Little crazy of late.

I hadn't a clue

That I could speak like I did this evening. I spoke to about 150 people about Ed. It went well; I think it was rhetorically effective. I had a huge voice, filling the whole auditorium, but a voice that moved with the flow of the speech. There was no roaming, every move had a purpose. There were certainly things that I could improve upon--hand gestures, eye contact with the people in the back of the room.

By the way, calling Ed out in front of other people is really fucking empowering. I suggest you try it.

I knew it.

Economics and EDs are related! http://nber15.nber.org/papers/w13595

You cannot always see

Recall that I had an orthopedist say "you don't look like you have an ED." And now that I have been doing well, I can see how my health has improved. Ways that didn't seem unhealthy until my body had time to adjust to healthy behavior. Most notably, I had always assumed I had these periods that were (a) short and (b) free of any PMS symptoms. Ha! Those where indicative of the fact that my body wasn't getting nearly enough nutrition. I do have cramps and my periods are about four days, not two. I still hate them, but that's because they are so inconvenient.

Here's my point: People don't look like they have EDs. Health effects aren't always obvious. Hell, I had two blood tests that both came back normal. EDs are dangerous, mentally and physically.