10:10am and 3 days before my 25th Birthday

I swear to fucking god I will be killing someone if THIS is how I wake up on Saterday morning.

Just breathe, Jorja.

Honestly, this isn't fair. This gives me no chance to be hopeful for the day, no chance to be glad that I woke up. And yes, that sounds ridiculously morbid, but who wants to wake up this way? I opened my eyes, and for half a second I start to think, "Hey, I had a pretty decent sleep!" Then this gross reality kicks in: No, you pathetically hopeful loser! You were not magically cured over night!

(Being hopeful only ever feels pathetic after the hopes get too high, and someone/thing manages to crush them.)

I've been up for 20 minutes now, and I have flushed the toilet 4 times already. Two Imodiums, and two re-coolings of my washcloth. And I realize I work tomorrow night! A decent shift too. So forget Saterday, right now I just want to wake up TOMORROW without feeling this way.

And it's not like I'm asking to feel ok-enough tomorrow so I can go to some raging party where I'll be doing slutty and illegal things! I just want to go to work. I WANT to go to work. I don't think people usually believe me when I say that, because the majority of my time is spent not going to work. I really want to though. I really want to feel ok-enough to go to work...like everyone else gets to, every single day. And I know some of you are rolling your eyes at me because having to work blows, but I'd trade you my stomach for your work schedule any day. Now if only I could find someone gullible enough to make such a trade...

Realizing that I'm scheduled tomorrow, and that a mere $25 in tips would cover Saterday's Birthday festivities, I start to heavily consider not eating today. Maybe I won't eat until my Birthday 'breakfast' on Saterday! No..ice cream cake with Jenn and B Friday night.

Huhhhhh, deep breaths. Big exhale.

Truthfully though? Panic, and an impressively anxious digestive system has bullied me into a near-eating disorder before. I moved into a friends house my first semester of college, and I was so sick all the time that my daily menu began to consist of nothing more then a hand full or two of gold fishes, and a few dry Corn Pops when I needed a sugar fix. When you spend the majority of you day feeling nauseous, or like you could shit your pants at any given moment...hunger pains become your greatest comfort. And you can't feel hungry, if you eat like a normal person, so I didn't.

Why are hunger pains such a comfort? And how dare I say that when there are millions of children out there dying of starvation? I'm not an awful person. Nausea is a feeling for which I don't know the cause, and I don't know how to fix it. Uncomfortable bowels are also a big fucking mystery. And not knowing = anxiety. Hunger though, I know exactly why I feel that feeling, and I know exactly what I need to do if I want to get rid of that feeling. Knowing = power. And where I am, where I have been stuck all this time, I don't have much power over that.

So did/do I allow myself (often subconsciously) to go hungry for the power? Or am I still just being bullied into believing that if I get sick, I can't throw up or get stuck on the toilet if there's nothing in my system?

I don't know. Who know?!

All I DO know, is that if I wake up this way on Saterday morning...if THIS is how I'm going to kick of my 25th (26th, technically) year...Princess Georgia is going to start kicking some serious ass. And she will not be feeling guilty about it, either.