After today, i just kind of need to take a minute, for myself, to reflect upon things. To understand what exactly is going on in my life. I haven't taken stock of the situation in a while. And with the mind of a psychologist, I know that's not good. I know I'm motivated to hold my tongue due to the situation that I'm in, because so is everyone else.

I've been in college for 2 months now. Actually a little over 2 months.
Do to hardwork, lack of good food, and simple lack of time I've lost 2 pants sizes and almost all of my clothes do not fit how they used to. I had to go shopping, because my pants were literally falling down, and my shirts were literally drowning me.
I haven't even lost a pantsize within the last two years. To suddenly, in two months, lose that kind of weight? That's weird to me. I didn't even notice until I went shopping.
Why? Because I'm stressed the fuck out, and I'm not eating enough, and I'm exercising too much, and I hate to say this but I have a problem.
I always have I just never wanted to say anything.
I always based my value as a human being on weight. My personality didn't matter. Nothing else mattered to me. My moods are based on how little I eat and how much I exercise. My self worth is based on the number on my jeans.
Every day is a battle for me. When I wake up, from the beginning. I plan every fucking bite, I count every little calorie, sometimes I eat less than 700 calories a day and I go do cardio for an hour because I don't feel like I deserved to eat.
I don't know why I'm so fucked up like that and I know it's a problem and I know I should do something but I'm so sick of being this troubled person. I don't know why I can't just be normal for once. I have it the best out of a lot of people I know but I still have all of these serious issues and it just makes me mad. I don't deserve to have any sort of attention on me. I don't.
That wasn't what I planned on writing about but that all came spewing out.
But you don't understand the intense phobia I have about gaining weight. A single pound. You don't understand, if you've never been obese, you don't understand what that's like, especially as a child. My parents want to deny that they did any harm and maybe I was just predisposed to eat too much, but it was a problem. People treat you differently. They look at you differently. So even though I have this problem, even though it can eat unhealthy, I'm not going to address it until I'm where I want to be.
I don't care if that's ludicrous. I already know.

And hell, am I happy? I have no idea. Sometimes I feel happy, when I'm with my friends or talking to Tony or just talking to someone that I knew before college. But here? No, I'm not happy here. And it's not because I'm lazy and don't want to do work. It's how I'm treated. It's what this place has done to me that's changed me. I barely sleep, I barely eat, I work myself so hard that I take it out on other people.
And it KILLS me because so many people rely on me for advice, and I give them my all and they just ignore me and shit on my ideas
You don't know what that does to me.
And I'm finding that I'm always much, much more emotional here than anywhere I've ever been. I'm crying or manically happy within the same hour, I don't understand why. My mind is always on overdrive, between etiquette to living with people who don't like me to having all of this stuff to do to keeping people happy, and so much more. I am going to break. I know I'm going to break, it's entirely unavoidable, I just hope it's not soon.

And I know this all sounds entirely dismal.
I don't know what to do either, my friends.
So I think I'm going to ride the waves and see if I can change and fix things. Because if I'm not happy, what's the point?