Dreaded Potluck

carbs-are-not-the-enemy

First of all, I worked with John and he was sweet. Additionally, he sat for about 30 minutes, after refusing work, without screaming!

The potluck was awful, but better than I expected. Most of the food genuinely looked unappetizing, which was stressful. I picked three things to try. I didn’t like 2 of the 3 things. I got seconds of that one though! I thought I did a good job of spreading my food out to look like a normal amount, but I failed. Heather made a big deal out of my food. I think she knows and judges me because she looked at me oddly. I was mad and on edge; I almost bolted, but I realized that would be worse. I felt miserable a lot of the meal, but eventually Iris sat with us and that helped a lot because she is funny and her loud personality makes staying out of my head easier. I sat through the whole meal even though it was tough.

I HATE Thanksgiving. It is more socially acceptable to talk about the evils of bad food. People’s conversations made it harder. They talked about wearing dresses or stretchy pants to Thanksgiving meals because they couldn’t button their pants after eating so much. They also talked about carbs’ badness. They discussed weight. Hell, the FOOD was labeled by diet, “paleo” this and “vegan” that…A few times I got a lump in my throat, but I didn’t cry in front of anyone! I was imagining that in my head. I did a good job controlling my facial expressions and overt expressions of emotion. I don’t think anyone noticed anything was wrong!

Once I finished eating, I felt sick. I wanted to purge; I was physically uncomfortable. I held out for a while, helping clean a little bit. Then I gave up. However, someone else walked into the bathroom on my way over. I went to the other bathroom and someone was in there too. So, I went to Ashley’s room. I started head banging because I was upset about the whole event, but I couldn’t do it hard enough to help without making too much noise. Therefore, I stopped. I sat in the room, with the lights off, and felt like crying. Only a tear escaped though. So, that wasn’t bad. About a half hour later, I felt together enough to face people again. My timing was perfect  because people started playing stupid team building games and so no one noticed that I was missing!

It was difficult and painful, but I am proud of myself.

Plus, I’m doing a wonderful job bugging Ginny less and letting her talk to me if she wants to, instead of bombarding her with messages. That means we aren’t talking much at the moment; despite feeling unwanted, I’m still staying safe.

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