Drama queen, my mother said. 

That’s why they sent me to drama camp. I only made the age cutoff by 6 months and consequently was surrounded by mostly older kids. I wasn’t nervous, shy, or inhibited. 

The only time I am able to channel those 8-year-old characteristics is when I have managed to imbibe three glasses of chardonnay. 

I don’t have any idea who I am without this eating disorder and my desire to find out is capricious. As much as I hate it, I can’t live without it. I spent all 5 miles at the gym turning everything into a competition. A competition with the calories burned. With staying on the treadmill longer than everyone else in the gym. With how fast I was going. I ate all three meals and did not log the calories on the computer but added all of them up in my head on the treadmill. 

Yesterday I went through every emotion that exists. I was the most dramatic person ever. Yesterday I realized my perception of how others view me is so unrecognizable to me that I haven’t a clue. At first I was relieved that maybe that was the case. 

But now I feel destroyed. 

I feel like my world is imaginary and I barely comprehend what is real and what is not.