Sixteen Days

There's only sixteen days until Thanksgiving, and yet, I feel as though I just can't make it.  Never before has two weeks (that's how long until I actually go home) felt like such a long stretch of time.  It feels endless, and I feel an overwhelming weight on my chest every time I think of everything I need to do before I find relief.  I know that I should just take a day at a time, rather than looking so far in the future, but I can't help it.  Instead, I just feel helpless and like I just won't make it to the holiday this year.  But of course, no one worry because unless something crazy happens I will make it.  There's no reason why I wouldn't; I'm just stressed out.

I'm afraid of tomorrow and probably not going to sleep tonight because of it.  I've found that if I stay awake all night, it feels like the day is pushed back a little farther. You know when you go to sleep and wake up an instant later?  Yeah, I don't want tomorrow to come in an instant.  So no sleep for me.  Besides, I have a lot of shit to do tomorrow, and I would kind of like to enjoy some procrastination right now.  I'm probably going to take some diet pills...maybe two because (why not?).  I ate lots of carrots with mustard (less than 200 cals...I ate a lot), sushi (250 cals), a soy latte (150 cals), and a hershey bar (160 cals).  So that brings me to less than 800 cals, I guess.  Obviousy I could do a LOT better, but I've been sticking around that number without binging for several weeks and actually seeing consistent progress.  I'd like to have a day where I don't really eat at all soon, just to remind myself that I can.  Maybe I'll do that on Sunday.  That sounds like a good day for it.  Tomorrow I will be chugging coffee and taking espresso shots like it's my fucking job.  I swear caffeine is the only reason I'm still alive.

Also, and this is slightly disturbing, I've literally been plotting a day where I can  .  Never mind, you don't need to know about that.  Just me and my musings about the razor chilling in my desk drawer...and no, I'm not killing myself so no one panic.  I just don't think you need any tmi.  I think I use the blade to remind myself that I can feel, like Johnny Cash says in "Hurt."  When I can feel it the next day, it keeps me grounded because I often (as in 99 percent of the time) forget that I'm in a body and a part of reality...which is an odd concept to me right now.  Maybe that's why I frequently stare at my hand, brows furrowed, watching it move before my eyes, and I think with childlike fascination, "That's me?"  An odd feeling.