Happiness is Only $49.50? Really?

I'm not a size 00 anymore. In fact, I'm not even close. If I tried putting on a pair of my 00 jeans, I don't even know if my foot could fit in it anymore.

How do I feel about this??

SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF!

I went shopping yesterday. FINALLY. For jeans. And I put on a size, and they fit. They're not a huge number, they're a GREAT number, and honestly, I don't care if it's just denim, today I felt like I was fucking FLYING. Seriously. It's been like 41 days since I've worn jeans. 41!!! That's a long-ass time, my friends.

I feel free. I feel like if I want to skip a day working out, I can. I don't have to do cardio for hours. I don't have to maintain this impossible ideal that eating one gram of fat or skipping one work out could sabotage. I can finally breathe. Not fitting into my clothes has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I always read about when people are going through a shitty time, they suddenly have this "A-ha!" moment that changes everything. That moment came this weekend. Not to be dramatic, but it did. This weekend was by far the first time, in, oh...say...a year and a half that I have been completely and totally myself. I got drunk not worrying about the calories in the alcohol. I ate a yogurt and a nutrigrain bar at like 3:30 in the morning just because I was hungry and didn't binge, throw up, or restrict the next day. I lusted after Hanson like the fangirl I am at the concert, and then ate dinner at 1:30 am after. Since I didn't bring any cute clothes to Wisco with me this weekend, I must thank God that Jen has such great style and was so willing to lend me her clothes. Otherwise, I would've been known as "that girl from California who looks like she just got out of bed."

This weekend was filled with everything I love: three of us in nothing but bras and underwear dying each other's hair (and somehow getting it nearly EVERYWHERE in the bathroom), a hug & a cold diet pepsi from my platonic soulmate Tom when I arrived, sleeping later than I have in YEARS, managing to take shot after shot and NOT pass out (yay! I have finally learned the Art of Pacing Oneself When Consuming Alcohol), gossiping with Jen in the morning, getting my nose repierced and crushing on the Ugly-But-There's-Something-Cute-About-Him piercing guy.

On the plane back home, I thought "Goddamn. I am so HAPPY. HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY. Who the fuck CARES about what size I am? I actually feel like I'm a person again." I seriously was getting emotional on the plane because I was so thankful. I came home, whipped out some boxes with my old clothes, and started trying shit on. I had a general idea of what size I was, and that helped. I saw some sizes of my clothes and thought "Ha! Never gonna fit into that again!" and that was that. If I can be this happy, be myself, and feel as amazing as I do, I won't trade it for anything. And the thing is, for some reason, the night I got home, after trying on all my clothes, etc., I binged and purged. I don't know why. I wasn't upset. After a bit of self psychoanalyzing, I came up with this:

I'm used to being depressed a lot. When I feel depressed, I binge and purge to feel nothing. I finally, FINALLY felt happy. Since I'm so used to numbing out any feeling (i.e., depression), my natural response to any emotion (even a good one) was to binge and purge. But the next morning I woke up and felt great. I still wore my old/new clothes, still went shopping, and hardly thought about it.

Don't get me wrong. There are definite areas of my body I would like to change. But I feel like, "Hmm....I want more muscle." I don't want to be skin and bones. And the true test came when I went to the gym today and....DIDN'T OVEREXERCISE. This. Is. Amazing.

It's ridiculous. I feel motivated. I want to write a fucking book, I want to ask people I talk to in classes to hang out, I want to dress up, meet boys, join groups on campus, get a tattoo, travel the world, pass my math class (though, according to Leonard Cho, "It's very unlikely." HA! I'll show you, L. Cho!).

I can't believe it's not 5 pm yet and I'm done with classes AND the gym. I'm not slaving away on a cardio machine or sleeping because I'm depressed. I'm off to the library to find a good book because a) I have no money to buy one, and b) as lame as it sounds, I <3 the Fullerton Library.

But first I should take a shower. As good as I feel, I don't think I'm confident enough to go out in public with sweat stains.

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