Cool Cherry Cream

All my losing weight, throwing up, general unhealthiness has not been an eating disorder. It was (and still is) just plain depression.

I think it was kind of suggested to me before that it might be, but I was in denial. I mean, depression? Depression is for high school who cut themselves and dye their hair black. I’m not depressed. I don’t want to be depressed. That’s so useless.

That’s my general feeling about all this. When I’m throwing up, I think “why is this happening? This is so dumb”. I guess this kind of all goes back to me not really liking to show my emotions. And I don’t want people to fret over me, to try and help me. This is dumb, I don’t want to take up people’s time with childish emotions.

I just didn’t want to be associated with the word, the feeling: depression. That’s not who I am. I’m not that stereotypical picture. When I was young, late preteens, I always thought I was depressed and wished I could have a psychiatrist. Recently (but not too recently, before my depression, I mean) it occurred to me that I didn’t still feel that way. I felt… pretty… normal.

Also, the thing about a psychiatrist is I don’t feel they can tell me much I don’t already know. I already understand myself pretty well. I still make lots of connections about why I am the way I am, but I basically “get” me. (Now that I’m an adult, I have more responsibilities; I don’t want a job, to do adult things, because I still want to be a child, because I feel if I’m an adult, I won’t be special; I was always complimented because I was good at doing things for such a young age; now, what if I haven’t improved? I’m no longer special; also, this may seem obvious, but it just occurred to me that I liked being 17 because I wasn’t yet an adult, not because it was a nice number or because you had the opportunity to be dangerous and illegal, which I obviously would never do). To get back to the psychiatrist thing, I also feel like there’s much too much to tell and I don’t think anyone could understand me as well as I understand myself in such a short time.

Anyway, depression pretty sucks. I don’t do anything, don’t have motivation to do anything. When people suggest I do something with them, I don’t want to do it, I make excuses — but if I do do it, I feel better. I cry a lot. Mostly to do with the “this sucks, why is this happening?” thing. I throw up.

Yesterday was terrible, I threw up everything. All Dressed chips don’t taste good coming back up. You can see little baloney bits when you throw them back up. I need to stop myself from eating cherry Popsicles or Kool-Aid because I’ve cried over seeing that come back up, thinking it was blood. When all you’ve eaten is Popsicle and you throw it up, it’s like foam. I’m gettin’ to be an expert on throw up.

Also, is “throw up” a Canadianism? It’s hard to Google, because I don’t feel like that’s what people call it. Puke? Vomit? What’s the scientific term for it? None of those seem right.

I’m checking out some depression forums to see what other people feel. I have a lot of the same sentiments as them. I can’t stand to go to the teen depression forums, because there is where you are getting the emos and little me’s (excuse the apostrophe; it’s for clarity) who don’t know what depression really is. This is really it.

I don’t like reading people’s sob stories about their girlfriend/boyfriend, their job, a death in their family… whatever other typical things could cause depression. I don’t have a sob story. My story is I have four months with nothing to do, so I am.

I feel like I could “snap out of it” as they say if I just went back to school, if I was doing something for most of the day. But I certainly don’t want to get a job — the whole responsibility thing, remember?

Anyway, this pretty well sucks. I suppose I’ll go to the doctor’s (again) soon so he can give me some pills I can’t swallow.

Oh, Canadian politics. You suck so much.

I don’t get why Lisa Raitt should resign for calling the medical isotopes issue “sexy”.

I don’t get what the “medical isotopes issue” is in the first place.

I don’t get why every time they play footage of her or someone else in the House of Commons talking, there’s always someone yelling in the background. Are they other MPs? How disgusting. Politics is so childish. I want nothing to do with it, but I’m going to talk about it anyway.

Sure, Lisa Raitt did some stupid shit — just like every other MP. Other politicians make crude remarks about current issues. Other politicians diss their bosses. The only difference is she got caught.

I don’t get why we punish the people who get caught; at least we can see what they’re doing wrong. It’s the sneaky people we know nothing about we have to worry about. What are they doing that must be kept so secret?

And they never bother to explain issues to us. The news, whoever. There’s some supposed shortage of isotopes, but I have no idea what those are or why that matters. No one’s ever tried to explain it. No one ever tried to explain what a “Mixed Member Proportional” system was either.

The man doesn’t want us to know things. He doesn’t want us to understand. Because if we knew what was really going on, we… well, we wouldn’t take action, because no one really does that anymore. Maybe you’d all start being apathetic, like me, and just not vote for anyone. I’m actually really proud of myself for not voting. I’m willing to admit I don’t know what’s going on, so I don’t want to vote for something I don’t understand. If the people who didn’t understand stopped voting, maybe something would get done.

High school was a long time ago. Okay, only a year. But now that it’s done, I give it to you — all my old essays and projects I could get my hands on are online for your enjoyment.

Check it out.

I went to the doctor’s yesterday to get the results from my blood work. He went through the report, “vitamin D… normal… vitamin this… normal… vitamin that… normal…”.

The pessimist in me kept waiting for the “buuuuut”, but the normal person in me knew that people don’t do that to other people. If something was wrong, he would have said it right out, not tried to trick me into believing I was healthy and then delivering some terrible news. This is not a Cyanide & Happiness comic.

Everything was fine — healthy even, with my cholesterol and whatnot numbers being quite good — except I need more iron.

So… great! I’m perfectly healthy. That’s what I wanted to hear, right?

…Not entirely. Part of me wanted him to say “well, you have a terrible vitamin whatever deficiency and you need to do this to fix it and you’ll be fine in a couple of weeks”.

Saying I’m healthy is all fine and well and I’m glad for it. But it doesn’t tell me how to fix it, because I certainly don’t feel healthy.

“There is no medical reason” for my feeling this way. Part of me knew that all along, but I guess there was still part of me hoping someone could tell me how to fix it, tell me that it isn’t “just me”.

I don’t like to prepare food, I don’t like to eat food. I don’t enjoy it, so I don’t feel it’s worth all the trouble that food preparation entails. Maybe my body’s trying to remind me, “hey! You eat so I can move around and do shit, not for enjoyment!”.

I’ve been doing yoga for the past three days, an hour a day. The first day, I had to stop the tape (technically DVD, but I really prefer saying “tape”) every few minutes to either rest or cry about how unhealthy I am that I can’t even hold my arms out for two minutes without feeling pain. I don’t know if it’s helping any, but it’s giving me a bit more of a routine (which I desperately need) and supposedly it’s a good kind of exercise for people who are underweight.

For some time, I didn’t get cravings for anything at all. Now, if I even think of a food, I’ll go and make it as quick as I can in case the thought is trying to become a craving. I like to think this helps me get the food down a little easier.

I still get terrible stomach pains if I haven’t eaten for awhile. I’ve found I like saying aten better than eaten.

My mind/body isn’t going “oh no! Food!” every time I make something to eat. It used to be this cycle of “hey! I’m hungry!” so I’d get some food and then my body would go “ohhhh ohhh… no room in here, uh-uh!”. It’s not doing that anymore, which makes it a heckuva lot easier to eat.

I don’t like to go out anywhere because after an hour or so, I start to get tired. This, I suppose, is what the yoga’s supposed to help with, since I don’t do any sort of slightly strenuous activity at all anymore. I’m getting better with going outside, because yesterday I went to the doctor’s and then to the mall (with my dad, on his motorcycle, to get “The Sims 3″… which I have previously never played…) and I didn’t feel bad.

I just love A&W burgers. Like, whenever I came home from university for the weekend, my dad would ask where I wanted to go for supper and I always wanted an A&W burger. We went by one in the mall and, a fleeting thought, I totally could have aten one, even though it was kind of early for supper.

I like to grab a drink sometimes when I’m actually hungry but I’m too lazy to make anything and/or don’t know what I want — my options are pretty limited.

The first time I went to the doctor’s, he suggested I make an appointment with the nutritionist. At first I was like ehhh but I said sure. Then a few days ago, I realized it would be silly to go to a nutritionist. What can they possibly tell me? I don’t eat anything because I don’t like anything.

A complete list of all the food in my house that I will get/make for myself and eat

• Cereal (Froot Loops, Honey Nut Cheerios)
• Pancakes
• Eggs (scrambled)
• Sandwich (jam, PB&J, PB & brown sugar, baloney)
• Toast (jam)
• Hot dogs
• Granola bar
• Cookies (Oreos, Viva Puffs, “baby cookies”)
• Rice Krispie square
• Thinsations
• Gushers
• Chocolate bars
• Popsicles
• Ice cream
• Cheesecake
• Grapes
• Cheese

A complete list of all the food in my house that someone else will make and I will eat (sometimes)

• Cheeseburger
• Steak
• Potatoes
• Garlic bread
• Ham

A complete list of all the food I will eat at local restaurants

• Wendy’s cheeseburger (just ketchup)
• A&W Mama burger (just ketchup)
• Lick’s hot dog (just ketchup)
• Swiss Chalet chicken strips
• Pizza-Pizza pizza (just pepperoni)
• Pizza Hut pizza or spaghetti and garlic bread
• Boston Pizza pizza (just pepperoni)

So there you have it. Those are all of my options for food. It may look like a lot written out, but compare my list to any other person’s list and theirs will undoubtedly be many times the size of mine.

This is part of the problem. You get sick of eating the same things over and over. I do try other things occasionally, but the other things I’ve tried, I haven’t liked. Lately, if someone offers me something, I’ll try it, because damn it, I need a new food! My dad offered me a piece of watermelon, and I must admit, it was not as bad as I thought it would be. But when I don’t enjoy eating things that taste good, if it’s not worth it to me to go and eat these things — why would I put any effort into obtaining something that tastes less than good?

There’s a lot we don’t understand as kids.

My brother likes to watch “Full House” for reasons I can’t comprehend. We were discussing the living arrangements in the house (where do the stairs in the kitchen lead? Don’t the stairs in the living room lead to the girls’ rooms? Then why are the girls always seen going up/down the kitchen stairs?) and the relationship of the characters, and I said I was pretty sure Joey was a friend of Danny’s and Jesse was actually his brother (in-law, actually).

My brother then wondered why the kids would call him “Uncle Joey” seeing as he isn’t really their uncle. Somehow this led to our inside joke phrase “call me Uncle Joey”, which — is it just me? — or does it have a slightly creepy connotation?

When I have a strange phrase, I like to Google it and see who else has had this particular phrase pop into their heads as well. There were about twenty other “call me Uncle Joey” pages, with only two I could see obviously pertaining to this Uncle Joey.

One of the results was a “Twilight” fanfiction. Now, I can tell when fanfics are written by preteen girls because they sound like what I wrote at that age.

We didn’t understand magnitude as kids. A character in this fanfic is described as someone who would “never be caught dead in anything less then a three star restaurant”.

Now, I don’t know what a three star restaurant constitutes, but on a presumed five star scale, I suppose it would be average. Most people don’t go to one and two star restaurants anyway. This sentence is writing a lot to say nothing about a person. They really intend to say they are snobby and rich and uptight, but think it’s better to write some bullshit than to actually put the words that they mean.

I made a similar mistake when I was younger. I was writing a Spice Girls fanfic, which was actually just a complete ripoff of another Spice Girls fic I’d read online. Anyway, Victoria was being a bitch because someone had ruined her dress, so she shouted “I’ll have you know I paid twenty pounds for this dress!!!”.

Yeah. I didn’t get the British monetary system.