<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:48:26.885-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nifty Bitchin'</title><subtitle type='html'>Everyone needs a place to bitch about life, this is mine. </subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-109497771413897088</id><published>2004-09-12T04:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-12T04:28:55.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Lazy much?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just checked the email account I have for this blog over at &lt;a href="http://www.hotmail.com"&gt;hotmail&lt;/a&gt;, and it reminded me to sign into that account at least once a month in order for it to remain active. If that's not a sign to let me know that I don't blog on this often enough, I don't know what is. Someone kick my ass back into action!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-109497771413897088?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109497771413897088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109497771413897088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/09/lazy-much-i-just-checked-email-account.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-109487383607975841</id><published>2004-09-10T23:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-10T23:37:16.080-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Wow, it's been a while, huh? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I'm finally back at school which officially brought the end to a rather sucky summer. I'm not going to complain about it too much, what's the point? What's done is done, and although I didn't go out and do everything I wanted to this summer I did make enough money to help me pay the bills for this school year.&lt;br /&gt;Going back to school was uneventful. I didn't really miss home, and I didn't really dread being back, which helped a lot. I didn't really get homesick either... maybe I'm actually &lt;i&gt;growing up&lt;/i&gt;!! haha, I think not.&lt;br /&gt;I had an appointment with my counselor today; it went well. We talked about all of the positive things that I'm doing and how I'm looking at everything in a brighter way. I somewhat agree with this, but in the back of my mind I still feel like I have unfinished business. I'm not sure why yet, hopefully I'll figure that out before I get myself in another downward spiral.&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I'm happy. I love that I'm happy. My counselor saw all of this and took it as a good thing, but when we started talking about eating she got concerned. The truth is I haven't really been eating at all. When I do, I eat mostly vegetables and salads. I'm fine with this, but she's not. Obviously. Last semester she saw it as a coping mechanism, but now she sees it as a "bad habit" that I need to get rid of before it drags me down. I totally understand what she's saying, and from all of my academic experience I know what will probably start happening to my body, but I'm not finished with it yet. There's always a few more pounds to lose, a few pants sizes to go down... stuff like that. I feel as if I am in control of it right now and I'm happy with it. Stupid? Maybe, but I'm pretty friggin' stubborn.&lt;br /&gt;I actually found out before my session started that my old counselor came back for another internship this year. I've got mixed feelings about this; I'm ecstatic because I absolutely loved working with her, but then again at the end of last year I was so upset that she was leaving I cried for what seemed like forever after our last session. I can't decided what I want to do first when I see her... yell or laugh? We'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. I think that's about it. Sorry I haven't been around much lately, I've been trying to get back into the swing of things and get everything going on the right track. It seems to be working so far... right now, I think I have a few blogs to catch up on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-109487383607975841?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109487383607975841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109487383607975841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/09/wow-its-been-while-huh-im-finally-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-109349247641215529</id><published>2004-08-25T23:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T23:59:07.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Freak out&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am *SO* freaking out. Soooooooooo so sooooo freaking OUT!!!&lt;br /&gt;It has come to my attention that I'm not where I wanted to be at this time of the year. I'm not ready for school to start. At. All.&lt;br /&gt;I am running very low on cash, which doesn't help at all... but also I've gotten worse with the food/friends/everything else stuff that I'm afraid to go back because I don't want to turn into the person I was at the end of last semester.&lt;br /&gt;I cancelled on my counselor last week because I didn't feel like going. What kind of excuse is that? I know she's an hour and a half away, which I guess is a reasonable excuse, but I know I should have been there. I knew that the reason I cancelled and didn't make another appointment was because I'm scared of what I may find out about myself. The last session I went to I basically admitted to her that I didn't care anymore. I didn't care that I didn't care about my friends anymore. I didn't care about myself, I didn't care where I was or what I was doing because it meant nothing to me. What the hell?&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I guess I was afraid to go back there and face myself. I don't want to be the person I've become. It's horrible. How can someone not care about the people in their life? How can they not care enough about themselves to eat? I feel so lost and completely alone. I have people in my life who know bits and pieces of my "story" is, but not one person knows the complete story, and when they get close to knowing it all I back away. There's nothing worse than being surrounded by people and feeling completely alone, especially with your own family. I feel like I'm fighting this enormous battle under their noses and I desperately want to call out for help, but I'm too proud to. I don't want them to worry, or think they have to walk on egg shells around me. But eh, I don't know...&lt;br /&gt;This entry has confused the crap out of me. I started writing knowing exactly what I was going to talk about, but now it feels like none of the lines are connecting, so I think I'm going to stop here and then come back to it another time when I'm not in freak out mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-109349247641215529?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109349247641215529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109349247641215529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/08/freak-out-i-am-so-freaking-out.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-109257857906316875</id><published>2004-08-15T09:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-15T10:02:59.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Rainy Sunday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty rainy and poopy out today. I have to work, which is nothing new, but the rain wants me to crawl back into bed and sleep until two in the afternoon. Ah, that would be nice. I wish we had internet connections at work... that would make the day go by soooo much faster! It gets really boring there, and usually I'm the only one there so I have to entertain myself so I don't fall asleep at all, because that would be bad. As much as I'd love to sit around and blog all day, I should get going. Must...get...to...work... I am trying to look on the bright side; Sundays are like my Fridays so I'm looking forward to two days off to do absolutely nothing. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-109257857906316875?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109257857906316875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109257857906316875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/08/rainy-sunday-its-pretty-rainy-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-109228472058804486</id><published>2004-08-12T00:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-12T00:25:20.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;More of the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been one of those weeks. I'm not sure how much more I can put up with myself. I went on vacation with the family, and realized that every year I'm the center of their jokes. Normally, this doesn't bother me, but in the state of mind that I've been in for the past who knows how long... I didn't take it very well this year. It took all of my energy to not burst into tears in the middle of a restaurant, and then again in the parking lot, and on the ride back to our place, and then again when I was getting ready for bed. It wasn't until everyone was gone and I found myself alone with my sister's cat on her couch that I broke down and cried my eyes out. Family is important to me, they usually keep me sane, but not last night. I have never felt so alienated from them before, it hurt. I don't feel like I'm "one of them". Sure, my personality is the same as the rest of them... but I'm different. I've always been the one with curly hair and blue eyes, the exact opposite of their straight hair and brown eyes. I've always been interested in different things than they have, food... music... clothes... you name it. But for some reason yesterday hit me like a ton of bricks. I have never felt so alone before in my life. There was no one to talk to, (although I could have called my boyfriend, but I would have woken someone up between sobs while I tried to explain why I was upset) no one who knew that I was upset, and no one that seemed to care. Although, I'm sure if they knew something was wrong they would be there for me. I just can't seem to tell them anything. I think I've finally realized that I'm doing all of this to myself... on purpose!! I never thought my version of "protecting" my family would come around to bite me in the ass. I always believed that I was strong enough to deal with everything on my own (although, I'm not sure what 'everything' is anymore). So now that I can't deal with it anymore, what am I supposed to do? I'll feel stupid if I go to my mom and say, "Hey, I've been severely depressed since... oh, I don't know.. March? I just thought you'd like to know!"&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;More than anything I just want to talk about all of this to someone and have them understand and give me a hug. Unfortunately, I can't receive hugs online, which means I'll have to talk to someone I personally know, which also means it'll never happen. Meh. I've got to stop doing this to myself. Thanks again, as always, for listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-109228472058804486?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109228472058804486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109228472058804486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/08/more-of-same-its-been-one-of-those.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-109159424305428759</id><published>2004-08-04T00:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T00:37:23.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Class 'A' Bitch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went and saw my counselor today for the first time in a month. I think part of last night's self-hating episode had to do with the fact that I had to face her today. I hate going in there telling her about all of the things I'm still doing and how I think I'm making no progress at all.&lt;br /&gt;Our sessions don't really go anywhere, I'm starting to think she's not for me. She knows what she's talking about, but I don't connect to her like I did with my last one... who I miss terribly. I'd give anything to have my old counselor back again. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;I sat in my session today listening to what my counselor had to say (who, by the way, I'm going to be calling JM from now on... it's just easier), and I was thinking about everything she was saying and how she had good intentions with her opinions and the guidance she was giving me... but I knew as soon as I left her office that I wouldn't stick to anything she said. I was nodding my head and agreeing with her the entire time, but inside I was screaming what I really wanted to say. I sort of got some of it out, I told her about how I hated myself, how my eating has gotten to the point when I do eat I get full (if I allow it) off of the tiniest proportions that no human should be able to survive on (and yet I'm not losing anymore weight?!?!!). I cried through the first half... but the second half I just listened. With my old counselor I talked the entire 50 minutes, and when I left I felt like everything that was weighing me down was gone. When I leave JM my mind is full of all of the things that she said I should do that it just brings me down, because in reality there's not a chance in hell I'm going to accomplish any of the things she talks about... even if I'm only supposed to be taking "small steps".&lt;br /&gt;When I wasn't zoned out and was actually listening to her she said that I'm a perfectionist. When did this happen? She also said I was deliberately using mental self-destruction (if someone asks me what's wrong and I say 'nothing', it takes the chance that I had to tell someone the truth about how I really feel and open up to them and throws it out the window. Leaving the person thinking I'm fine, and leaving me alone and completely isolated with my feelings) on myself whenever I'm offered anything because I feel bad and think that'll I'll be a burden, or that I can handle a situation myself although I'm actually in way over my head.&lt;br /&gt;Hm, what else did I learn? She told me that I'm at the point where I don't care about anyone anymore because I used up all of my resources, burned myself out, and now I have nothing left. She said I'm unable to care about anyone because I can't even care about myself. How is that?? The one thing that I want more than anything is to be able to care about people. My friends, my family, my boyfriend... and yet I find it really hard to. There are a select few that I still do that for.. but I don't want to be a "class A bitch" as JM put it to them too. What will I have left?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy, this is a long one. I feel more miserable than I did last night at this time. I'm on the verge of tears, but I know I'll hold that off until I get into bed... where I feel the most alone. I wish I had the guts to tell people what's going on with me. I need a hug (which I'm sure I'll get from Freya, thanks hun. Your comments really do help even tho I suck at replying to them). *sniff*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-109159424305428759?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109159424305428759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109159424305428759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/08/class-bitch-i-went-and-saw-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-109151431679685811</id><published>2004-08-03T02:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-03T02:25:16.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Sorry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really messed up right now. Earlier today I was thinking about how I haven't blogged on this for quite a while and how things have been going good. This blog, which was once used as a way for me to vent my negative feelings has turned into exactly what I don't want it to be. A painted picture of a person who is in serious need of help; one who is extremely depressed, hard on herself, underweight and malnourished, but most of all... a person who only focuses on the negative things in life. That is what bugs me the most; I'm not a negative person. I don't only focus on the negative things in life. I try to live my life to its fullest... and although I can't do it all of the time, I try to do it as much as possible.&lt;br /&gt;My boyfriend just told me that I rely on the internet a lot, and he's right. I do. I rely on it because on here I have friends that know the "real" me. I'm not afraid to voice my opinions, say stupid things, or act on my feelings towards people... in reality, I'm a huge baby. I'm not a people person. I suck at conversations, I'm not good at meeting new people, and I'm very self-conscience. I worry a lot about saying the wrong things to the wrong people, or making myself look stupid by not having the right words handy. Appearance isn't a huge thing with me, but I do try to look good and present myself well to others.&lt;br /&gt;More than anything I wish I could balance the two versions of me and make a complete person. I don't wan to feel awkward anymore when talking to people... I want to be able to start an entire conversation on something stupid like a rock... and then leave that person knowing about their family, their life, and their hopes. I've even looked at books to help with that but I'm too ashamed to check out at the counter with them.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to just say sorry to all of you who read this. I'm sorry I haven't showed you the real me. I'm sorry that you've put up with all of this negative bullshit, and I'm sorry I have been hiding behind a fake name. Some of you read my other blog and it hurts when I reply to comments knowing that I have to be careful of what I say to make sure I don't throw any hints out there. I'm sorry I'm not a more cheerful person here, but I can't write about something that I've already blogged about without everyone knowing who I am. How stupid is all of this? I'm thinking to myself... who am I to think I'm some big shot person who has to go "into hiding" in order to voice my own opinions? It sucks that family has gotten to my other blog, or, should I say, it sucks that I'm not truthful to my family... who have no idea I'm going through any of the things that I've written about on here. I need to sort things out. I feel so out of wack and not like myself that I'm starting to wonder who I actually am.  I need to rest and take time out to ask myself who I really am and who I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-109151431679685811?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109151431679685811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109151431679685811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/08/sorry-im-really-messed-up-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-109038683906142238</id><published>2004-07-21T00:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-21T01:13:59.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Better?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was visited by a teacher I had in high school on Monday. She came to my work, which was very unexpected and it completely through me off guard. She was one of the people who I depended on when I first started going through everything this spring. We emailed each other back and forth many times about the problems she dealt with when she was suffering from anorexia and about the problems that I was going through at the time. I opened my heart and soul to this woman expecting that she'd be understanding because of what she went through. Not true. Instead, she dropped me like a hot potato because she couldn't handle talking to me anymore. It was making her depressed. I guess I can understand where she was coming from, but then she started the whole "tough love" thing on me. She sent me a newspaper clipping on an eating disorder inpatient program saying I should call them up and go there. She also hounded me about telling my parents, which was the exact opposite of what I needed. Things got rather ugly with her because I basically told her off. I *kindly* explained to her that she wasn't my mother, I wasn't ready to get better, and that her "tough love" did nothing but make me feel even more alone that I had already felt. I ended up not speaking to her for a while until she showed up at my house one day to talk to me. We made up, sort of, and then she went away for the summer. I hadn't seen her since then. &lt;br /&gt;When she showed up at my work I turned around and she was just standing there. I was rather surprised, so instead of saying "hi" like most people would do, I said "holy crap". heh. I'm good with words. &lt;br /&gt;It upset me to see her. I wasn't ready for it I guess. She hugged me, said how good I looked, and that she was glad I was getting better. &lt;br /&gt;Getting better? When did this happen? &lt;br /&gt;She also said it looked like I put on some weight, which made me want to run to the bathroom and throw up right there. We talked about nothing in particular but I managed to take off the nail polish I had on 7 of my finger nails. I was obviously nervous. I couldn't look her in the eye for very long, I was fidgety, and all I could really concentrate on was my nails. &lt;br /&gt;I had been having a good week until she showed up. I had been eating more and feeling a little better about myself. I hadn't had the urge to purge, and I hadn't been looking down on myself or felt extremely depressed for about a week or so. I think part of it was because I have started to block things from my mind again; it's just easier to forget about things than to deal with them. Whatever the case was, I was feeling better. &lt;br /&gt;As soon as she left I wanted to cry. All of the sudden everything came rushing back at me all at once. I felt more alone that day than I have in a long time. I realized that if she thought I was getting better, who else did? There are only a few people who know what's going on with me... and even they don't know everything about me. They don't know about my past and what caused me to start being like this... they just know that this is how I am, and although it is rarely mentioned, I know I can talk to them about things. So why do I feel so alone? I wish, more than anything in the world that I could feel loved, or whole, or whatever you want to call it. I know I am loved, but it doesn't feel that way. Maybe, if I just told people around me what is going on it would be different. I would have more people to lean on. But I can't do that. I can't let people know I'm weak. I can't depend on anyone. I've been let down by too many important people in my life that, even at 20, I already know I can't trust anyone with my deepest fears and secrets. They won't be able to deal with it. That is why I hold everything inside. That is why I feel like I'm dead inside. That is why I starve myself. That is also why I don't want to get better. &lt;br /&gt;If you have made it this far, congrats. I should make you some kind of plaque. Tonight was a venting night. I don't even know where all of that came from. A half hour ago I was laughing and not thinking about any of this, and now I'm emotionally and physically drained... I need to go to sleep. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-109038683906142238?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109038683906142238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/109038683906142238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/07/betteri-was-visited-by-teacher-i-had.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108981462351047834</id><published>2004-07-14T10:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-14T10:17:03.510-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I need more hours in the day!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realllly don't want to go to work today.  The tiny amount of caffeine I had this morning already wore off, I think I'll have to make a few more cups of tea.  It is cloudy and cold out today, I'm actually wearing pants and a sweatshirt.  I don't remember the last time I wore pants... but have no fear, I still have on my famous flip flops.  I won't wear any other kind of shoe until the snow hits the ground.  &lt;br /&gt;I went to bed late last night and woke up early this morning because I couldn't fall back asleep.  I think I need to start getting in bed by 11.  I can't keep myself up anymore, I drag too much in the morning which eventually puts me in slacker mode and then I get into one of my lovely bad moods.  Thankfully, I only have to work until 4 today, but to counteract leaving work early I have to go to class at 5.  I don't mind class too much, it's just a pain sometimes because I feel like I'm not learning much.  Actually, all I have to do now is pass in my final, which I haven't finished yet, and then I don't need to go to class anymore.  The slacker in me has prevented me from doing any such work, heh, oh well!!  I should  be done with class by next Monday which makes me happy as a clam, I don't have to sit in traffic for 40 minutes every Monday and Wednesday on the highway anymore... *YAY!*  &lt;br /&gt;Alright, enough with this random stuff, I must go to work...  but not before I have a ginormous cup of tea with an extremely large amount of sugar in it.  heh, I can feel the shakes coming already. *wheee!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108981462351047834?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108981462351047834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108981462351047834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/07/i-need-more-hours-in-day-i-realllly.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108960377806546335</id><published>2004-07-11T23:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T23:42:58.066-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;AAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wrote out this whole long-ass post about the lack of communication between me and my boyfriend and freakin' IE decides to be an asshole.  Now I'm angry, frustrated, and in a horrible mood... which I totally didn't think was possible after the great day I had.  I'm going to bed. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108960377806546335?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108960377806546335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108960377806546335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/07/aahhhhhhhhhh-i-just-wrote-out-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108960014534055856</id><published>2004-07-11T22:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T22:42:25.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Angel &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah McLachlan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Spend all your time waiting&lt;br /&gt;for that second chance&lt;br /&gt;for a break that would make it okay&lt;br /&gt;there's always one reason&lt;br /&gt;to feel not good enough&lt;br /&gt;and it's hard at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;I need some distraction&lt;br /&gt;oh beautiful release&lt;br /&gt;memory seeps from my veins&lt;br /&gt;let me be empty&lt;br /&gt;and weightless and maybe&lt;br /&gt;I'll find some peace tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the arms of an angel&lt;br /&gt;fly away from here&lt;br /&gt;from this dark cold hotel room&lt;br /&gt;and the endlessness that you fear&lt;br /&gt;you are pulled from the wreckage&lt;br /&gt;of your silent reverie&lt;br /&gt;you're in the arms of the angel&lt;br /&gt;may you find some comfort there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tired of the straight line&lt;br /&gt;and everywhere you turn&lt;br /&gt;there's vultures and thieves at your back&lt;br /&gt;and the storm keeps on twisting&lt;br /&gt;you keep on building the lie&lt;br /&gt;that you make up for all that you lack&lt;br /&gt;it don't make no difference&lt;br /&gt;escaping one last time&lt;br /&gt;it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh&lt;br /&gt;this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees&lt;br /&gt;in the arms of an angel&lt;br /&gt;fly away from here&lt;br /&gt;from this dark cold hotel room&lt;br /&gt;and the endlessness that you fear&lt;br /&gt;you are pulled from the wreckage&lt;br /&gt;of your silent reverie&lt;br /&gt;you're in the arms of the angel&lt;br /&gt;may you find some comfort there&lt;br /&gt;you're in the arms of the angel&lt;br /&gt;may you find some comfort here.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108960014534055856?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108960014534055856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108960014534055856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/07/angel-sarah-mclachlan-spend-all-your.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108941938661079210</id><published>2004-07-09T19:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-09T20:29:46.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't even want to try and explain what is going on with me.  I don't know anymore.  I have successfully fooled my family, my boyfriend and all of my friends.  Everyone who knows anything about my eating I have pushed out of my life, the same goes for anyone who knew I was depressed and that I cut. I think I can truthfully say that I am not going to get better any time soon.  What else can I do? I'm on meds, I've done counseling, neither seem to be helping.  Maybe it seems like I'm looking for a quick fix, but doing this for four months is already getting old. I find myself driving faster than normal and thinking about what I could crash into on the highway without hurting anyone else.  If it weren't for the fact that I love my car, I really don't want to know if I'd follow through with it.  Probably not.  But seriously, I feel as if I'm all out of options.  I've run out of places to run to, people to turn to, and ways to cope. I'm thinking it's about time to throw in the towel.  How's that for a positive post? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108941938661079210?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108941938661079210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108941938661079210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/07/i-dont-even-want-to-try-and-explain.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108916111278069329</id><published>2004-07-06T20:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-06T20:47:40.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been having issues with blogger lately.  I can't seem to view my page at all.  Hmm.  Oh well, lets see if this works. :)&lt;br /&gt;I've finally been able to relax and it feels great!  I feel completely refreshed and totally ready to face tomorrow's long-ass day at work.  I will feel completely different about all of this tomorrow... but catching up on sleep and girly time has been great.  I think I'm going to go lounge around in some comfy clothes until I fall asleep. *Whee*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108916111278069329?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108916111278069329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108916111278069329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/07/ive-been-having-issues-with-blogger.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108856267186269444</id><published>2004-06-29T22:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-29T22:37:17.003-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Inches from rock bottom&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so emotionally fucked up right now.  It's getting to the point where I can't take anything anymore...  I can see how bad things are getting, and yet, I can't.&lt;br /&gt;I went to see my therapist today and it was clear before I even sat down that things had gotten worse since the last time I saw her two weeks ago.  The entire session was like a kick in the face.  I trust my counselor a lot, even tho I've only had a handful of sessions with her.  She knows what she's doing, which makes it so much harder for me to accept what she says.  I don't want to believe it. &lt;br /&gt;Everything we talked about -- work, the boyfriend, family relationships, friends -- she pointed out the bad things.  The things that I let happen because I don't want to disappoint anyone.  I've always been the type of person to make sure one of my friends is ok.  I'll be there for them in a heart beat, I've always been like that.  The thing is, I never receive anything in return with most of my friends... so it's like I'm giving everything I've got and I get nothing back, which is discouraging and hurtful. Lately I've been doing that with everyone.  I don't want to disappoint anyone -- not my boss, my friends, my boyfriend, family... etc.  I don't put myself first for anything which has caused me to deplete my energy.  Work comes before eating, work comes before relationships, relationships come before sleep, etc, etc. I'm running out of gas and yet I keep going. &lt;br /&gt;Part of our session was related to everything I explained there and how I was on a path to self destruction.  I don't believe it, does it sound like it to you?  My therapist flat out told me that I have to do something about all of this or I'm going to end up either blowing up at the people I work with, doing something extremely stupid, or the situation she kept going back to "leaving on a stretcher".  Excuse me?  A stretcher?  Where did that come from?  Yes, I'm tired after work, no I don't have time for myself... and yes, when I do I feel guilty for not spending it with my boyfriend.  But a stretcher?  Hmm... I don't think so.  I don't think I'm that bad.  Am I seriously that naive?  I just don't get it.  I really don't. &lt;br /&gt;All I want... is at the end of the day to feel productive, but not tired.  Happy, but not because I blew people off.  I want to be closer to my family who has NO idea what the hell is going on with me.  I want to be able to lean on them when I need to, not bottle it up.  Same with friends.  I have very little friends left.  There are only a handful who I talk to on a regular basis.. and even they are fading.  I want to be able to lean on them without having to feel guilty --not because they've made me feel that way, but beacuse that's how I automatically feel when I attempt to depend on someone-- I don't want to be afraid of having others get close to me and see the *real me* (although I'm not quite sure who that is).  I want to be comfortable in my own skin.  I want to be able to go to sleep at night without feeling lonely and completely isolated from everyone, including the people in my own house.  Why is this so hard for me to do?  How did I get this fucked up?  I could blame it on a ton of things, one stands out more than the others, but why?  It's in the past.  What was done was done, I can't change it, and that's that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.  Seriously.  I'm so not happy with myself right now... If you couldn't tell. Actually, if you made it this far I should give you an award or something.  I'm sorry for rambling on and on about the same ol' crap over and over, but this is obviously the only place where I can do it.  I'd rather get it out somewhere instead of internally hating myself all night.  Blah.  I need sleep. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108856267186269444?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108856267186269444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108856267186269444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/06/inches-from-rock-bottom-im-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108847987634924313</id><published>2004-06-28T23:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-28T23:31:16.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Ragdoll&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been a day.  Yup.  &lt;br /&gt;I went to work today without eating much so work &lt;em&gt;kicked &lt;/em&gt;my ass. I was doing a bunch of "bitch work" (aka, mulching flower beds and watering flowers).  Usually it's not too bad, but I really didn't feel like touching any of that stuff today. &lt;br /&gt;Afterwards I found time to spend with my boyfriend, he spent most of the time complaining about how mean I've been.  I guess I have, but it's not the kind of mean where I say horrible things, I'm just in a bad mood.  We ended up talking about things, and well, I just can't get anything across to him.  He blames our lack of relationship this past month on my working 6 days a week, always being tired, not staying out late with him, my medication, blah blah blah.  When I told him to hold it for a second and try and see things from my point of view, he didn't quite get it.  &lt;br /&gt;I can admit, I have been tired a lot... it's because I don't eat and then work 8-10 hours a day.  You'd be tired too!  Of course, he doesn't know this so I accept his argument there.  But... BUT...  he also works.  He has a job that requires him to go in at weird times.  Sometimes he'll go to work at 7:30 in the morning, and other times, like tonight, he'll go in at midnight.  He sleeps during the day for the most part now, so yeah, that cuts in on our time.  &lt;br /&gt;I also tried to explain to him that some of the things he says to me really hurts.  He didn't seem to get it.  I have issues with constantly taking things and making them my responsibility, which in the end fucks me over because I feel like I have so much to deal with when really it's just not that important.  He'll say things that end up making me feel bad... like me not going to pick up dinner because I had other errands that needed to be done.  He'll say that he has been busy all day, he's tired, he doesn't want to drive...  yadda yadda yadda.  I'll apologize 10 times and promise to do something for him later on.  Is that healthy?  Afterwards I'll point out some of the things he said like that and he kinda just brushes it off.. saying he was just kidding and that I shouldn't' take him seriously.  What's a girl to do?  &lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm in the worst mood.  Yes, it's because of him.  No, I didn't tell him when he asked 48 times.  It'll just make things worse.  Bottling things up is SO much easier than dealing with them.  &lt;br /&gt;And with that...  I'm going to bed because I have to spend my day off tomorrow driving three hours in the car. *YAY*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108847987634924313?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108847987634924313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108847987634924313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/06/ragdoll-today-has-been-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108843384102454878</id><published>2004-06-28T10:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-28T10:44:01.023-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Dreamin' 'bout you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you have the most &lt;em&gt;random &lt;/em&gt;dreams with the most &lt;em&gt;random &lt;/em&gt;people in them.  I had a dream about two people who I haven't seen for years, which deserves one random point.  But also, I don't even like them!  Which deserves 2 random points.  What's going on here?  You'd think if I didn't like someone I wouldn't dream about them.  Ah, sometimes my imagination scares me. :) &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108843384102454878?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108843384102454878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108843384102454878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/06/dreamin-bout-you-i-hate-it-when-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108839702004597552</id><published>2004-06-28T00:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-28T00:40:01.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;One good thing about music, when it hits you you feel no pain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been listening to Sarah McLachlan a lot lately, I can't seem to get tired of her CDs.  I totally relax whenever I play her new CD, Afterglow, you should give it a listen.  This is one of my favorite songs, I thought I'd share it with you guys...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;World on Fire&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world's on fire &lt;br /&gt;And it's more then I can handle&lt;br /&gt;I'll tap into the water&lt;br /&gt;Try and bring my share&lt;br /&gt;Try to bring more, more then I can handle &lt;br /&gt;Bring it to the table &lt;br /&gt;Bring what I am able&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearts are worn in these dark ages&lt;br /&gt;You're not alone in these stories pages&lt;br /&gt;The light has fallen amongst the living and the dying&lt;br /&gt;And I'll try to hold it in &lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'll try to hold it in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watch the heavens but I find no calling&lt;br /&gt;Something I can do to change whats coming&lt;br /&gt;Stay close to me while the sky's falling&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna be left alone, don't wanna be alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearts break, hearts mend, love still hurts&lt;br /&gt;Visions clash, planes crash, still theres talk of &lt;br /&gt;saving souls, still colds closing in on us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We part the veil on our killer sun&lt;br /&gt;Stray from the straight line on this short run&lt;br /&gt;The more we take the less we become&lt;br /&gt;The fortune of one man means less for some&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world's on fire &lt;br /&gt;And it's more then I can handle&lt;br /&gt;I'll tap into the water&lt;br /&gt;Try and bring my share&lt;br /&gt;Try to bring more, more then I can handle &lt;br /&gt;Bring it to the table &lt;br /&gt;Bring what I am able&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108839702004597552?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108839702004597552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108839702004597552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/06/one-good-thing-about-music-when-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108821285783920314</id><published>2004-06-25T21:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-25T21:21:04.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;/insert title here&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can slowly feel myself pulling away from others again.  I'm not enjoying it.  This time around I can see it happening, but again, I don't know how to stop it.  I feel fake when I talk to people.  Things feel awkward, out of place, and strange.  It's hard for me to hold a conversation with anyone anymore...  there are a few exceptions tho, for which I am grateful. &lt;br /&gt;I spent today wallowing in self-pity, which is the exact opposite of what I should have done.  I think work is getting to me.  I'm always on the go, I don't have much time to myself, and when I do I spend it sleeping.  Eating has again been put on the back-burner, I don't have time for it, which is sad.  Hmm..&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of people don't read this, which is probably a good thing, I hate constantly talking about negative things.  I feel as if I'm dragging others down with me and I'm sorry if that's what I've been doing.  Normally I don't mind negative things, but only if they're surrounded by a bunch of positives.  I think this blog will win the "Most Depressing Blog of the Year" award this year... if there is such an award. Heh. &lt;br /&gt;It's starting to thunder so I think I'm going to get cracking on some homework to keep me busy until bedtime.  I hope you all had a good day :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She, she screams in silence &lt;br /&gt;A sullen riot penetrating through her mind &lt;br /&gt;Waiting for a sign &lt;br /&gt;To smash the silence with the brick of self control" - G.D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108821285783920314?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108821285783920314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108821285783920314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/06/insert-title-here-i-can-slowly-feel.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108812721406962606</id><published>2004-06-24T21:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-24T21:33:34.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Not so cheery&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been a hard day.  I was alone at work all day which gave my mind the amount of time it needed to start making me think about things that I shouldn't have been.  My heart feels so heavy and empty at the same time.  I don't know what I should be feeling about anything anymore.  I can see myself looking at my situation and being able to see exactly why I'm depressed, what I should do to fix it, and how it'll help a lot of things... including relationships with my friends...  and yet, I still can't do it.  I can't and it hurts.  Worst of all I don't know how to make it stop hurting. &lt;br /&gt;I know there are worse things to have to deal with, but I seriously pray to God that the hurting stops soon.  &lt;br /&gt;How's that for a cheery post?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108812721406962606?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108812721406962606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108812721406962606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/06/not-so-cheery-today-has-been-hard-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108808238720019951</id><published>2004-06-24T09:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-24T09:06:27.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Rest is good&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually got a good night's sleep last nice so I feel almost completely energized.  I'm skipping on breakfast today to see how long I can go before I have to eat...  I'm not sure why, but that's what I've decided to do. &lt;br /&gt;I'm actually up and ready on time to go to work today which doesn't happen pretty often so I decided to come on here and blog to make up for that extra time.  heh.  &lt;br /&gt;I don't have anything to do tonight, I'm looking forward to a relaxing night.  I have some work that I need to finish up, so I'll probably dive into that before I finish the book I'm currently reading.  Sounds good to me!  Have a good day everyone :) &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108808238720019951?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108808238720019951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108808238720019951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/06/rest-is-good-i-actually-got-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108804556985428357</id><published>2004-06-23T22:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-23T22:52:49.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Two words: holy crap.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been around for while I guess, eh?  I've been really busy with work and all.  Being home from school has been more stressful than I anticipated.  Instead of randomly bitching at my friends and being in constant bad moods I've lightened up a little bit... but mostly because I've been keeping it all inside.  I'm just so good at it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I changed the skin on this baby, do you like??  The other had been broken for a while, I just didn't have the motivation to fix it.  It only took 5 minutes to set this one up and I'm pretty happy about it.  I'm not sure about the font colors tho.  I think I'll play around with it here and there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how is life everyone?  Sweety? James? haha, I think you two are my only readers.. but that's ok :)  I like you.  &lt;br /&gt;When I updated the skin I lost all of my comments, boo to that!  But otherwise... I'm functioning.. putting on weight here and there... poo to that!  But eh, you know how it is.  :)  I *PROMISE* I'll be around here a little bit more than I have been...  no.. a LOT more than I have been.  Sound good? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108804556985428357?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108804556985428357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108804556985428357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/06/two-words-holy-crap.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108540697741919094</id><published>2004-05-24T09:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-24T09:56:30.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;It's a little dusty in here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I haven't posted in a while, sorry about that!  I know all 4 of you have been sitting on the edge of your seats waiting for me to blog. haha. Well, I'm back.  I've been busy but things are just starting to calm down so I should be on here more regularly.  Shame on me for ignoring my poor blog. &lt;br /&gt;Well, while I was gone something happened with the background and picture on my template, so pardon the appearance of this place.  I gotta figure out what went wrong and where it happened.  No worries. &lt;br /&gt;I have been busy.  I started working again, which isn't always fun... but the money I get out of it is!  I've been feeling pretty good lately.  I have been eating better and paying attention to my body when it says it's hungry.  I've gained back some of the weight I lost too, which is good. &lt;br /&gt;I bought a few books on cutting and overall mental health and I've been learning some interesting things here and there about me that I didn't know about.  I am so interested in psychology now, I think I'll switch majors when I get back to school.  I can stay up all night reading book after book.  It's great. &lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...  Other than working and reading, I haven't done anything interesting.  I have a few doctor appointments this week, a graduation to go to next week, as well as a concert and a road trip.  I can't wait for that.  I'm thinkin' that's about it.  I hope all is well in your neck of the woods.  Sorry I haven't emailed any of you, I swear, I didn't fall off the face of the Earth. :)  Well, that's it for now.  Have a good week guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108540697741919094?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108540697741919094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108540697741919094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/05/its-little-dusty-in-here-wow-i-havent.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108437959978938360</id><published>2004-05-12T12:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T12:33:19.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday was tough.  My last meeting with Katie was really nice, but it was still hard to say goodbye.  After the meeting I bawled, but I was kind of happy because I told her everything that I wanted to tell her and I felt good about it.  &lt;br /&gt;I'm home from school now and it's been a little weird.  I spent a lot of time with my boyfriend and I think we got sick of each other already, which is something that never really happens.  I know it's my fault, I'm trying to adjust to being home and I'm dealing with things on my own with no real place to vent anymore, so I've just been a crappy person to be around I guess.  I don't know, hopefully things will settle down a bit.  &lt;br /&gt;I have a lot of things to do today, I have to clean the house like its never been cleaned before... That's going to take a while so I better go start it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108437959978938360?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108437959978938360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108437959978938360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/05/every-new-beginning-comes-from-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108387132843973868</id><published>2004-05-06T15:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-06T15:27:45.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Movin' on up&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hit rock bottom last Thursday and since then, things have started to get better.  I have a better grasp on eating and I can talk myself out of doing harmful things to myself.  I can now recognize when I get into one of those "moods" and do other things that will take my mind off of what I'm thinking.  I've spent a lot of time away from my room and outside studying and painting, which has also helped me a lot. &lt;br /&gt;Monday is the last time I get to see my counselor, which sucks.  She was the first person I've talked to that I actually had a connection with.  I can go in there and feel like I'm just shootin' the breeze with her while still getting things accomplished.  I see her more like an older sister than a therapist.  It's going to be really hard to say goodbye, but I feel good about it all because I'm in a more positive place than I was before. It was like the mental breakdown I had last Thursday was actually a good thing, I feel like we're easing towards the end of everything and I'm somewhat calm about it.  We'll see about Monday afternoon tho... My outlook on all of this may change once I leave her office.  ::sigh::  Here's to better days. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108387132843973868?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108387132843973868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108387132843973868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/05/movin-on-up-i-hit-rock-bottom-last.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108351856955645042</id><published>2004-05-02T13:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-02T13:27:10.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE SPRING!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108351856955645042?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108351856955645042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108351856955645042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/05/i-love-spring.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108337315602635224</id><published>2004-04-30T20:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-30T21:03:35.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;No sunshine over here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a horrible rest of the week.  I've been so stressed out that it has caused me to do stupid things.  I'm not very happy with myself right now.  I went to my session yesterday at 3 and I didn't leave until 6:30 because I couldn't "guarantee my safety" through the weekend.  I had to set up a verbal contract with my counselor and her boss.  It was messy and I feel crappy and completely out of control and out of touch with my friends and myself.  My counselor's boss gave me her home phone number so I can call and check in with her every night.  BAH!  I feel like I should just put on a straight jacket and head off to the padded room.  Seriously, I know you guys don't know me...  but this is &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;who I am.  I hate being the girl who needs the help,  I'm usually on the other end.  I feel like a complete burden to everyone around me.  Depressing, eh?  I'm sure I brightened up your day by having you read this too.. blah.. I'm just like... I don't know.  Empty?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108337315602635224?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108337315602635224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108337315602635224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/no-sunshine-over-here-ive-had-horrible.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108317074456456127</id><published>2004-04-28T12:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-28T12:50:00.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Sp-sp-sp-spit it out junior!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate having conversations with people that go no where.  Or, if you're on the phone and someone tries to tell you a story and they take F-O-R-E-V-E-R to tell it and fill up your time with a lot of "um's" and "uhh's" and random things like "Alright! I was waiting for this in the mail" and "STOP BARKING!".  Like, seriously, if you're going to tell me a story... FOCUS.  I don't want to hear about what happened three years ago in a story about how you went food shopping today. &lt;br /&gt;That just put me in a bad mood.  I don't know why, but now I'm all pissy and tired.  So yeah, how is your day going?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108317074456456127?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108317074456456127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108317074456456127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/sp-sp-sp-spit-it-out-junior-i-hate.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108312570040228843</id><published>2004-04-28T00:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-28T00:19:15.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Work.. work.. work...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been running around like crazy for the past few days.  I've finished two projects, both which I'm extremely happy about because I got to rock some of my creativeness/computer geekiness (is that a word?) and use it towards the goal of getting good grades, which &lt;em&gt;always &lt;/em&gt;make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;I set my friend up with a blog tonight, I'm not sure if I'm going to link her on here or not, I'll have to think about that.  She's a great person and all, but you know how that goes... one person links ya, then another, and then another and I all of the sudden find that I have people who know me reading this without actually knowing who, so I'll give it some thought. &lt;br /&gt;Hmm, besides that nothing really interesting has happened.  I've been extremely tired for some odd reason.  I took a 4 hour "nap" yesterday, woke up around 1am, took a shower and then went back to sleep for 6 more hours.  I got up this morning and felt like I hadn't slept at all. It totally sucked.  I could blame it on the lack of energy due to no food, but I have been eating a little more than usual.  I went to my doctor on Monday and found out that I gained 2 pounds in the past 2 weeks, which is good, I'm actually happy about that...  This next week is filled with final exams, papers, and presentations which is going to stress me out beyond belief, so we'll see how I am after I get through all of that.  Blah.  I'm really not looking forward to any of it, but the payoff is good... Summer!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108312570040228843?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108312570040228843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108312570040228843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/work.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108306923384462997</id><published>2004-04-27T08:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-27T08:38:07.793-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The end is coming...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had two huge projects due this week and I got them both done a little bit early which makes me feel &lt;em&gt;great!&lt;/em&gt; I focused on doing those two things so much that I totally forgot to write a paper that was due yesterday, but the teacher didn't mind at all so I'm just going to type it up real fast and put it in his mailbox today.  I have 7 days to go until the end of classes, I'm looking forward to it but then again I'm not.  Going home means I have less freedom, which is something that I had to deal with last summer.  It was frustrating, but I got over it...kinda.  The one thing I am looking forward to is NO homework for 3 months! Woohoo!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108306923384462997?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108306923384462997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108306923384462997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/end-is-coming.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108299706192760314</id><published>2004-04-26T12:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-26T12:35:14.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Whatta weekend!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a great weekend.  My boyfriend came up and we got to spend a lot of time with each other, it was so good for us.  I loved every second of it and I miss him a ton.  &lt;br /&gt;I did a lot of homework this weekend too, which sucked, but I got two major projects done which I'm friggin' happier than all hell about.  Woohoo!!  The end of this week is going to be a little hectic, but I'm not worrying about it now.  I'm still in a semi-good mood from this weekend.  Enough about me, how was YOUR weekend?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108299706192760314?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108299706192760314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108299706192760314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/whatta-weekend-i-had-great-weekend.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108282444456175602</id><published>2004-04-24T12:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-24T12:38:14.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Weekend!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was good, a lot better than compared to last weekend.  I went to the movies with a few friends, it was nice to get off campus for a while. &lt;br /&gt;Today I think I'm going to hit up the Walmart to buy a few things and then head over to the tanning place to get me some cancer in a box. :) I haven't actually gone in a week and a half, so that's my excuse for going today.  I hope everyone is having a great weekend!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108282444456175602?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108282444456175602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108282444456175602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/weekend-last-night-was-good-lot-better.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108274262724930884</id><published>2004-04-23T13:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-23T13:54:59.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Friday!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a little drunk last night which made me feel a little sick this morning.  I didn't have a lot, but because I haven't been eating and I haven't gotten drunk in a while, it didn't really matter.  I was bombed and I'm feeling icky now...  I'm a smart cookie, eh?&lt;br /&gt;This weekend should be fun.  It's JAMFEST weekend, there are going to be a few bands playing in one of the parking lots, there will be a rock wall and some of those bouncy blow up houses to jump around in.  It should be fun.  There's going to be a massive amount of cops and RAs walking around all weekend searching out alcohol and drugs.  They've beefed up that from last year, its kinda like a prison around here this year: "Have fun, but not too much fun!".  They're doing it because last year a kid went missing after going to a party after all of the JAMFEST things were over with.  Our school is right on the ocean but we're surrounded by woods, so they were searching the waters w/ scuba gear and there were choppers and planes constantly in the sky for about a week.  They didn't have any luck finding him, which was extremely sad.  His girlfriend was here thanking everyone who searched, and a lot of people knew him... he was in one of my classes.  His body washed up on a nearby island about 3 months later.  Most people around here are worried about the freshman class because they didn't experience what everyone else did and they've got an invincible attitude about partying.  We'll see what happens, hopefully tomorrow and the rest of this weekend is uneventful, in the good kind of way. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108274262724930884?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108274262724930884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108274262724930884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/friday-i-got-little-drunk-last-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108267221901826005</id><published>2004-04-22T17:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T18:21:06.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Spring has finally sprung&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started out being rainy and icky this morning, but it turned into an extremely sunny and warm day.  I love it.  Last night was pretty rough.  I talked to my boyfriend about a bunch of things and just before we were going to end the convo I mentioned that I wasn't sure what I wanted to do after college.  I told him that I'd like to live by myself and experience things instead of moving in with him, which turned into him asking if I wanted to see other people... and it continued from there.  We worked most of the stuff out before we went to bed.  He didn't understand where I was coming from.  I told him that dealing with the whole anorexia thing has made me secretive and has made me value my privacy more than ever, which has been affecting my relationships with friends and him.  He thought I all of the sudden just wanted to change everything and that I became a different person.  I told him that I had been dealing with those thoughts for a while and it seems sudden because I had control of it all one day and the next it felt like it all fell down.  Hmm... Did that make sense?  I went to bed still upset, but I feel better about everything today.  Last night was a bad night, so it was good that today went by with no real issues.  I like easy days, they make life fun.  &lt;br /&gt;I'm getting my procrastination on by not doing my marketing homework, even tho it needs to be done by tomorrow... I should probably get working on that.  It's just so nice out that it's hard to stay inside when I know I could be out there soaking up the sun.  *sigh* Summer's almost here! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108267221901826005?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108267221901826005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108267221901826005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/spring-has-finally-sprung-it-started.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108261536619785458</id><published>2004-04-22T02:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T02:33:33.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Rocky times&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty productive today, but in the end, today sucked.  I ended up having a conversation with my boyfriend that was focused around me being freaked out that he's the only guy I'm going to be with for the rest of my life.  I'm 19, can anyone understand that?  Needless to say, the conversation wasn't much of one, it was more like a fight which resulted in him being pissed off and me crying.  I've cried so much in the past week, its insane.  I'm really not a crier at all, I hate doing it, your face gets all messy looking and there's snot everywhere.  Its just not pretty.  Bah.  Its 2:30 in the morning and I need sleep... Although I don't think that's going to happen any time soon. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108261536619785458?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108261536619785458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108261536619785458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/rocky-times-i-was-pretty-productive.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108259158269619564</id><published>2004-04-21T19:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T19:57:52.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;HUMP Day!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Thursday! Then it's going to be Friday! YAY! I'm so glad this week is almost over, I just may party it up this weekend, we'll see. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108259158269619564?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108259158269619564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108259158269619564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/hump-day-tomorrow-is-thursday-then-its.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108258510061340878</id><published>2004-04-21T18:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T18:11:01.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;B&gt;Too much to do!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually intended to write about something specific, but I totally forgot what it was.  I'm in a *special* kind of mood today. &lt;br /&gt;I'm actually chilling in my school's computer lab doing some work.  I get distracted way too easily in my room so I come up here when I REALLY need to get going on my work.  I've actually accomplished a few things, which is always a plus.&lt;br /&gt;The cool thing about this lab is I can see the ocean from the windows.  There's actually a lighthouse out there too.  It's a little relaxing considering I come in here when I'm all stressed out and have a ton of stuff to do.  &lt;br /&gt;I'm going to continue on my work and try and figure out what the hell... oh, I remember!  I looked at my tracker today and it said I had 8 visitors.  Granted, 5 were me... so I actually had 3 readers in here.  Not bad... not bad at all.  &lt;br /&gt;I'm looking to add onto my blogroll, so let me know if you have any good blogs that you like to read.  I always love prying into other peoples' lives and seeing what's going on.  It's fun! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108258510061340878?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108258510061340878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108258510061340878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/too-much-to-do-i-actually-intended-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108256633345131502</id><published>2004-04-21T12:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T12:56:19.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Boy toy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boyfriend has been driving me insane lately.  We've been together for almost three and a half years and there have been no real bumps in the road so far.  A couple of months ago when I first stopped eating I kept it a secret from everyone, including him.  He was actually the last person I told.  It got to the point where I didn't even want to talk to him because he always asked me what was wrong and that turned into fighting and so on.  He lives an hour and a half away from my school, so we only see each other on the weekends if it's possible, otherwise we talk on the phone.  Our arguments would get no where, I'd get pissed off, he'd get pissed off, and nothing would come out of it.  &lt;br /&gt;I finally told him what was going on over the phone, which wasn't how I wanted to do it but it felt like I was being forced to tell him because he thought I had some big horrible secret and that I was going to leave him for someone else... or something like that.  I'm not happy that I told him, because I feel uncomfortable now when food is mentioned around him, and ever since then he's been clingy.  Very clingy.  For example:  I just called him, we talked for about 2 minutes, and the 5 minutes after that was silent.  I said I had to go to class, which is true, so I wanted to get going.  I told him I'd call him back after class (in about an hour or two) and I'd talk to him then.  3 minutes later the phone rings.  I don't know why that annoyed me so much, but I'm at the point now where I want to scream.  He's been sick for the past two days so he's bored, and I can understand that he wants to talk to me... but I have things to do, places to go, shit like that.  I'm feeling overcrowded but I don't have the heart to tell him.  Bah.&lt;br /&gt;This didn't turn out to be what I wanted to write about, but eh, I got it out.  Lets hope he never finds this blog!! haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108256633345131502?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108256633345131502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108256633345131502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/boy-toy-my-boyfriend-has-been-driving.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108251835373624024</id><published>2004-04-20T23:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-20T23:48:43.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just went over to take &lt;a href="http://www.shanemcdonald.com/laughs/l-dr-phils-test.html"&gt;Dr. Phil's test&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;I got a 37.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Interpretation of Results&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others see you as sensible, cautious, careful &amp; practical. They see you as clever, gifted, or talented, but modest. Not a person who makes friends too quickly or easily, but someone who's extremely loyal to friends you do make and who expect the same loyalty in return. Those who really get to know you realize it takes a lot to shake your trust in your friends, but equally that it takes you a long time to get over it if that trust is ever broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is so true it's scary.  Go take it and see what you get. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Link via &lt;a href="http://whenpigsfly.typepad.com/flying_piggies/"&gt;Flying Piggies.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108251835373624024?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108251835373624024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108251835373624024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/i-just-went-over-to-take-dr.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108250011325005690</id><published>2004-04-20T18:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-20T18:35:02.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Everything hurts!&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out and hit some lacrosse balls around w/ one of my friends.  Those things FLY when you hit them with a bat.  Woooohhhhh!!  They also hurt when you don't catch them right. heh.  I'm a very entertaining person to watch. &lt;br /&gt;After being outside for a while I had to go to class.  I'm in a human development class because the school requires it.  Normally, I don't think I'd ever consider taking the class but it's been quite interesting this semester.  We started learning about adolescence then we moved onto adulthood and now we're at late adulthood and death.  How depressing!  I don't want to know about all the diseases I can get when I get old, screw that!  I'd rather just go with the flow and see what happens.  I'm so not looking forward to getting old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108250011325005690?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108250011325005690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108250011325005690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/everything-hurts-i-went-out-and-hit.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108248559526118677</id><published>2004-04-20T14:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-20T14:30:40.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Nothin' to see here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing really exciting has happened today.  At. All.  &lt;br /&gt;I went around to a few blogs and added them to my blogroll, its always good to find new reads.  Other than that, there's nothin' really going on. &lt;br /&gt;It's goregous out today, I should be outside swinging a bat around but I'm completely sore from doing that two days ago.  My muscles haven't been used lately because I'm a lazy bastard so they got a wake up call the other day when I was running around acting like I've been playing softball for the past 3 years.  I feel like a beat up old woman. haha&lt;br /&gt;Oh man, I think I'm going to go do something productive... I just may go outside and find someone to play with *YAY!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108248559526118677?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108248559526118677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108248559526118677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/nothin-to-see-here-nothing-really.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108242456354489475</id><published>2004-04-19T21:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T21:33:27.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;B&gt; Hmmm... &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kinda fixed it.  It doesn't look too bad, does it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108242456354489475?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108242456354489475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108242456354489475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/hmmm.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108242318984715031</id><published>2004-04-19T21:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T21:10:33.920-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;B&gt; Grrrr...&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been playing around with this thing all day and now that I've moved the skin down a little bit so the ad doesn't look stupid on Netscape...  I can't get the titles on the menu to go back down next to the hearts.  Bah.  Any ideas?  I've got none. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting here watching the Bruins/Montreal game.  Game 7!!!  Go Bruins!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108242318984715031?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108242318984715031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108242318984715031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/grrrr.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108240815693097209</id><published>2004-04-19T16:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T17:00:00.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Bitchin'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started going to counseling about a month and a half ago, and so far its been somewhat helpful.  I've gone to therapists before and they just didn't work out for me, partly because I didn't tell them the truth and failed to mention certain important details in my life.  This time I vowed it would be different.  I went in there and told my counselor, Katie, everything.  I didn't leave out a single thing, and its felt good.  &lt;br /&gt;I found out a few weeks ago that she's leaving my school in the middle of May and not coming back.  She was an intern, so I should have known she was going to leave, but it's hard to deal with.  I really like going to her and I feel like I connect with her due to the closeness of our ages and I'm just comfortable with her overall. &lt;br /&gt;I was looking forward to going to see her today because I had a pretty shitty weekend and I wanted to vent.  At 8:00 this morning I got a call saying she was out sick, and so when I went to call and reschedule my appointment, I couldn't get in until next Monday.  Meh.  I see her two days a week, so going from two days to none in one week sucks ass.  I feel like I have to go in there and get everything off of my chest because I only have a limited amount of time with her.  I'm scared of just stopping the counseling for the summer because I don't think I'm stable enough to do it.  I'll be home this summer, and home is stressful for me because my family doesn't know that I'm anorexic, so I go home and try to eat as much as possible without purging afterwards.  Its hard, and I don't know if I can deal with that right now.  Hmmm...  I needed to get that out.  Sorry it was so long, but I'm not forcing you to read anything. haha.  Oh well, I'm going to go do some homework and be mad at my friends for ditching me.  I'm &lt;em&gt;so &lt;/em&gt;bitter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108240815693097209?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108240815693097209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108240815693097209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/bitchin-i-started-going-to-counseling.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797595.post-108233822682107939</id><published>2004-04-18T21:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2004-04-18T23:37:05.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Introducing... Me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok kids. This is it. Here's my new blog. I've gone to the side of anonymity because too many people I know read my regular one, and well, I can't bitch about them if they read it, right? So here it is. &lt;br /&gt;It didn't take too long to set this thing up because I got the skin from &lt;a href="http://www.blogskins.com"&gt;blogskins&lt;/a&gt;. I highly recommend it, there are tons of skins to use, and they're all free! &lt;br /&gt;Well, here's a little bit about me: I'm 19, I'm currently in college, I have a boyfriend, and a few close friends. Things have changed a lot for me this year. I am currently dealing with anorexia/bulimia and going to counseling for it. It has caused me a massive amount of issues between my friends and me because I tried to keep it secret for a long time, and I was succeeding at it until a few people caught on. I told a few friends at first, but they tried to "fix" me and it made our relationship very weird and caused me to back away from them. Right now, I have one very good friend who knows everything about me and is very supportive of me. She is dealing with her own issues and we actually see the same counselor, so we can relate to each other’s situations. Other than that, I have started to drift from my friends. Hanging out with them has gotten weird. My best friends both have boyfriends that go here, so I barely see them, and well... that's about it. I have two best friends and some other friends, but I don't hang out with them too much. I don't know, I feel like everything is falling apart for me right now. I have good days and bad days, but the bad days are becoming all too common for me. &lt;br /&gt;I'm using this space as an outlet for my emotions. I love to write, but writing in a journal takes so much longer and it cramps up my hand, so I figured I'd talk it out to the entire world and quite possibly get feedback from it. Either way, I'm hoping this will be a good experience for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6797595-108233822682107939?l=niftybitchin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108233822682107939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6797595/posts/default/108233822682107939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niftybitchin.blogspot.com/2004/04/introducing.html' title=''/><author><name>Tisha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07979072284680272360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
