Is this a piece of your brain?

400 followers?? Crikey.

Hey y'all! 'Sup?


I just want to say a HUGE thank you to you angels for your support on that last post. If I didn't hate touching, I'd hug every single one of you. 

Uncle DOES NOT have cancer. 

::dances around the room::

After they got his gall bladder out, cleared some kind of bile blockage (ew?), the jaundice went away and they were able to properly do all the big tests; and they concluded that it was a false alarm. 

NOW WHY THE EFF THE DOCTORS WOULD TELL UNCLE AND COMPANY THAT HE HAS LIVER CANCER AND LESS THAN A MONTH TO LIVE WHEN THEY DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW FOR CERTAIN IS BEYOND ME. 
And therein lies the reason I do not trust doctors.

But none of us could be properly upset with the doctors because we were too thrilled that Uncle is ok. 

Here's some happy music.



Yesterday was bad. I haven't been sleeping much. That combined with Uncle's cancer scare, anxiety over seeing the father for Little Bro's graduation, and the impending arrival of the Ugly Stepsister today, I ended up bingeing on the office pretzels, and then purging them in the bathroom at work.

Apparently I can purge when I'm emotionally distraught. 

I was then double anxious because I couldn't work out after work, since I had to go see Little Bro#1 graduate high school. Boss ended up letting me go home early, so I managed to squeeze in half an hour on the treadmill. 

To me, that's like taking a quiet 5-minute stroll down the road. It does not qualify as Exercise.

So I was like ok, I can be Acceptable for the day as long as I don't eat anything else. At all. 

Did I mention that the Good Ship Recovery has officially sunk?

I will try again, I just need to regroup.

So yesterday, after the 30 minute workout, I drove up to Dad's to see Little Bro#1 graduate high school. Step-Mom's parents, her brother and 2 of her nephews (OMG CUTEST KIDS EVER!! Hadn't seen them in years, but one is totally going to be a mega ladies-man), and Step-Mom's aunt and uncle. I always feel like such an outsider at these things, so that wasn't helping my anxiety. 

And then Little Bro#1 played this on the piano, as part of the graduation ceremony:



I seriously almost cried. I introduced him to that song. It's from Amelie (one of the best films ever). 
But then again, this means he can't play that song at my funeral, which I had been planning for some time. I shall have to come up with something else. 

Then after the ceremony, Step-mom says I should come with all of them to a restaurant near their house, just to get coffee ('cause it was almost 10.00 by then). So I said ok, thinking I could allow myself a coffee.

Wrong. We get there, and everyone starts ordering actual food. I got an appetizer so I wouldn't look like a weirdo not eating with everyone else, and then (because I can't control myself when I'm anxious?!??!?) I got DESSERT. 
>:(

Most of it was purged in the bathroom of the restaurant. I wasn't going to try purging, but Step-mom and Dad kept making comments about my weight. Unlike Mum, who always says I'm too thin, they both love to tell me how great I look, and how skinny, and how wonderful it is that I'm taking such good care of myself (as opposed to the fat tub of lard that I was before?) and then Little Bros were playing with some app on their ipod that lets you take a photo of someone and make them look fat, and we were all having a good laugh at that until I took a really good look at the photo they did of me and thought, "I can't see much of a difference."

Overwhelming? I dunno. My nerves were frayed, I was running on very little sleep, and I tend to have trouble dealing with Dad's side of the fam in general. So I purged my dessert in the bathroom. Like an a$*hole. 

Ho hum. 

Then B/P'ed some oreos and an ice cream sandwich when I got home. 
>:O

I hate the drive home from Dad's. It takes almost an hour, and I really hate making that drive alone. Going from their Super-Happy-Perfect-Loving-Christian-Family to being completely alone in the car for an hour in the dark makes me feel incredibly cut off from them. That's why I generally take someone with me when I visit Dad. 

But what can you do but pick up the pieces and try and again? Like riding a horse--you fall off, you have to get back on. 
Which is kind of ironic, because taking that advice literally is what caused the head/back injury that left me with little to no balance, effed up motor skills, and random bouts of vertigo. 

Word. 

I'm going to the gym now. 

...before I go... I was thinking of making up another blogger award. Like a fun and sort of silly one. Would y'all take it, if I started handing it out? I promise it will be ridiculous. :D

Later dudes!
<3