Ever since it ended with Ricky, I've been eating, eating, eating!  Especially ice cream.  I even went to the ice cream store where I used to work and actually bought some.  I ate so much for free when I worked there, I never thought I'd buy it.  I'm so fat and gross.  It's so embarrasing, I can't even talk to my therapist about it.  I wonder if she thinks I'm fat.  Maybe I've been able to hide it, and she hasn't noticed.  I can't imagine talking about it.  For one thing, it would just be completely humiliating to talk about what a fucking pig I am--what a needy baby!  It's like I'm getting mother's milk out of these ice cream containers--something I never got from the barracuda, of course.  Even if I survived the humiliation of talking about my fat and my eating, then I'd have to stop, because how can I admit all this to her and keep doing it???  I can't give it up.  I just can't.  I can't tell her.  I feel so, so, so alone in my disgustingness.

I have to figure out what to do for Thanksgiving.  The barracuda wants me "home," as if I'm away at Summer camp.  I'd love to see my Dad, but I don't think I could stand living with the barracuda for 4 days.  I've procrastinated so long deciding that I don't even know if I could get tickets now.  I wish I could go to my therapist's Thanksgiving--I wonder what she's doing?  Is she going to her Mom's?  Is she cooking for her husband and his evil family?  Is she having it with her kids?  little kids?  Home from college kids?  Does she have a crotchety old mother who snaps and criticizes between looking mean and sulky?  I just wish I knew, so I could picture her on Thanksgiving in her own world.