I'm frantic. I left the office at lunch today because *gasp* pizza was being brought in by a drug rep. I ran a couple of errands, but for some reason I still ended up where I didn't need to be. I go through the drive-thru line and order my lunch. (I always order 2 waters as if I am buying lunch for not just me, but a 2nd person as well.) I eat my meal in the car on the way to my mom's house. I get there, grab what I have left to eat, and walk to the front door. Damn! The glass door is locked. I don't have a key. I have told mom not to lock that door! I gather my things and go back to my car to finish eating.
Wait!!! I need a new journal. I've been meaning to buy one for 2 weeks. Katie, my therapist, says I need to start journaling again as part of my road to recovery. I start my car and drive down he road to Barnes and Noble. It's windy outside today. I am trying to keep my hair under control as I make my way inside. I pass someone as I walk through the first set of doors. I think to myself, " I look like a slob today. My pants are baggy. I didn't do anything to my hair." I get inside and make a beeline for the back of the store. Where are the restrooms??!!! I am more frantic at the point as I search row after row of books. Finally, I feel relief.
To my delight, the stalls are all empty. I wash my hands and go to the last stall. While throwing up, I become my own cheerleader. I am actually saying, " Come on Jenn. You can get rid of just a little more." Now I feel better. I can look for the perfect journal to aid in my recovery. All is well once again.
I don't know what made me decide to post an old journal entry as my very first blog post. I just find it so surreal to read it and imagine what my life was like at that time. I feel like I am a lot different now. Or am I just in a different city, a few years later?
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