When you try your best but you don't succeed

When you get what you want but not what you need,
When you feel so tired that you can't sleep,
Stuck in reverse.

Sounds pretty accurate.

Due to insurance complications (as I'm telling the family), or my inability to quit smoking (as is the real reason), I will not be having my RnY on 2/3. I now have to wait at least 6 more weeks, possibly longer, as I won't know until tomorrow when they can fit me in the schedule. I'm so incredibly bummed out, but I know it's my fault. I quit, I really did, it just didn't last. I failed, but I will get up and try again, because I want this more than anything.

I was driving today, thinking about why I have an incredible fear of rejection...warning, psychology major will now try to analyze herself. Sounds like a sideshow.

Anyway, I was wondering why I have this amazingly strong fear of being rejected. I know it's why I don't let people get close to me, I just don't know why it exists. If you asked my mother, it's because I'm "not comfortable in my own skin," which loosely translated means cause I'm fat and unhappy about it. But that's patently untrue. My fear of rejection started much earlier than that, along with my hatred of my body. I hated my appearance even before I got fat. I was a normal-sized middleschooler, and yet I cried when I had to buy size 9 jeans, because my two best friends at the time were sizes 3 and 0, respectively. I was always hip-py, with an hourglassish kind of figure, I was never a stick, and I developed curves that I had no idea what to do with. So I threw tantrums about my size when clothing shopping. Looking back, I'd swallow glass to be a size 9...so, and here  comes the crazy part, I wonder if becoming fat was the "cosmos" way of making me realize that size 9 is not fat. I'm not a real devout person, I can hardly call myself religious, or even spiritual, and I mostly consider myself agnostic, but it seems like the gods were teaching me a lesson with this. It's just a thought I tossed around, realizing tonight that I would kill to be a size 9 now, and back then, you would have thought I was having my toenails ripped off, the way I carried on about my jeans size. So I wonder if maybe this whole weight-gain thing was to make me appreciate a 9, or thereabouts.

But that still doesn't solve the whole fear of rejection, combined with a fear of abandonment. Abandonment doesn't really seem like the right word, but I fear that I'll get close to someone and they'll leave...no I guess that is pretty much the definition of abandonment. I've been throwing around common causes, and the only one that fits me is that my parents divorced. But even that doesn't fit, because I actually saw my dad MORE when they split. He worked so much when I was little, day/night jobs, we rarely had family time. Anyway, without getting too far into my parents' story, I really don't think that this is the cause. So I am left to consider other potential reasons. Maybe this would be a good time to talk to my therapist. I want answers, because everyone expects me to "come out of my shell" and become a "social butterfly" when I get skinny, and I have to keep reminding them that I will still be the same me, just less of me. I'm still going to have the same messed-up, pessimistic view of things, and I'm still going to be (for all intents and purposes) emotionally handicapped. I would prefer to be emotionally handi-capable, but that's just not going to happen without a major mind overhaul.

I feel lost here, not just because of the surgery delay, but because it means I now have to withdraw from this semester, because with my luck, I'll get scheduled precisely on midterm/finals week. There's just no way I'll be able to keep up with my surgery that far into the semester. So bummer, I now have absolutely nothing to do with my days, but not smoke, and not eat. Should be nice and easy to accomplish since those are my crutches. When I'm bored, I smoke. When things don't go right, I eat. So now I need to find something to do, or I'm going to lose my mind in this house.

Agh, it's late and I'm tired, but if I'm going to get through these next few days not smoking, I'm probably going to need to be asleep 97% of the time, so I'll stay up. I've read that cigarettes are supposed to be more addictive than heroin, and that in the past years, tobacco companies are adding even more addictive crap to them. And yet I still smoke, knowing this. I regret ever starting..completely.

So, not much else to report. Will hopefully have my new and improved date tomorrow, or Tuesday, depending on which day the coordinator gets back. Hope for something soon for me.

Signing off, comment at will. (or against your will, if you prefer.)