I met with my psychiatrist today and it was an interesting visit. Some background information. I stopped taking my meds on Sunday. Cold turkey. I was coming home from Boston early that morning, and I didn't want to consume anything because I wanted to be able to weigh myself when I got home with nothing in my stomach (I ended up drinking a diet coke on the plain, but that's a moot point). I don't know why, but after not having taken my meds on Sunday, I had no motivation to take them on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday. I told her that I had "forgotten" but the story eventually came out. I got super sick on Monday, unsurprisingly, considering the amount of meds I'm on and how stopping cold turkey affects my brain chemistry.
My sleep has been so messed up since Sunday. I've been tired constantly, taking long but low quality (basically sleepless) naps during the day, and getting little to no sleep at night. I'll go to sleep and literally wake up every hour if not more, and it takes me forever to fall back asleep. We talked about this and how my circadian rhythm was screwed up. Likely from withdrawing from medication that a.) makes me more sleepy in general, and b.) some of which help with sleep. But also because depression in general makes you more tired, which is what makes me constantly tired and feeling like I need to nap during the day, which throws off my circadian rhythm making it difficult if not impossible to sleep at night.
We then had a long discussion about my motivation behind not taking medication. She saw right through me and knew that I hadn't "forgotten" my meds the following days. She talked to me about the different reasons why people fail to take their medication, something that ultimately makes them feel better. Some reasons were control, apathy or ambivalence towards feeling/getting better, fear of getting better, etc. The ambivalence and fear of being okay kind of resonated with me. It kind of parallels to my eating disorder. I'm so ambivalent towards recovery from my eating disorder, mostly because of fear of what I'm letting go of. The same holds true for medication, not so much in the sense of "letting go" of something that keeps me safe. But I'm so used to being sick in my head that going back to feeling like shit feels comfortable. I don't know why, but it is also somewhat scary to be okay. Why? It doesn't make sense. But she said it wasn't uncommon. As miserable and depressed and anxious as I am without my medication, it feels right. And a few days of not taking my medication, and feeling a huge dip in my mood, just made me feel somewhat safe and at home. I know it doesn't make sense the way I'm explaining it, but when we talked about it, it made a whole lot more sense.
We talked about what we would do going forward from here. I'm apathetic towards taking my medication right now. She said she would support me with any decision I decided to go. So basically we decided to go off of my Luvox, Abilify, Lexapro, and Trazadone, and to keep the Klonopin and Focalin. That was my decision. I'm not sure how I pulled that one over her, considering the Klonopin and Focalin are my two "abusable" and controlled substances. But whatever, she was cool with it. She said as long as I promised to be smart about it, and to come back in if my suicidal thoughts became more than just "fleeting" thoughts.
As okay as I'd been the past few days with not taking my medication, I kind of left with a bit of a pit in my stomach. Like maybe I made a bad decision. I could have had her prescribe my meds, and chosen from there whether I wanted to get them filled, or even get them filled and decided from there whether to take them. But no, I totally gave up 4 of my meds which keep my mind somewhat sane. I felt somewhat like I was giving up. I almost cried over it on the way home, because in a way I felt like I was "grieving" my medication. Which is somewhat silly. But again, it does keep my mood relatively okay, and I'm giving that up.
So basically I just dropped 2/3's of my medication. I'm not sure how okay with it I am, but at the same time I take comfort in knowing that I can go back to my depressed, miserable, and anxious state. It's sick to say and to think, but part of me is looking forward to feeling the missed hole and darkness in my life that consumed me. It feels like I'm back at home, where I belong.
A fun weekend
I don't normally post about my social life. Mainly because, well, I don't have one. But this weekend was pretty full of activity and fun. Pretty rare for me.
It started out Thursday night. My old roommate, Nadiya, and I went to DC 101's holiday concert at Eagle Bank Arena. There were five bands that played, but the main two that I enjoyed were the struts and fall out boy. I'm not hugely into music, and never really sing along to the songs. But I love going to events like this mainly because I LOVE getting dressed up and going all out. Which I did. That's my favorite part of going to events or parties is getting dressed up. I definitely had the goth/hardcore thing going. Which was pretty fun, because I'm typically all pink, glitter, and unicorns.
The next morning (Friday), I woke up bright and early (well, it was actually kind of dark) for my flight to Boston to visit my brother (and a pretty sweet grad school). My brother picked me up from the airport and drove me back to his place. He had some stuff he had to get done, so he headed out, and I pretty much napped all day. Which was much needed after only getting maybe 2-3 hours of sleep the night before.
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| On flight to Boston - notice my eyeliner from the previous night is still remaining |
My brother got home later in the evening, and I hung out with him and his roommate. We walked to the liquor store to get some beer and wine, and had some drinks at home while we chilled out and ate some local pizza (something I wouldn't have eaten a few months ago, because I can only guess the number of calories in it).
The next morning was another early morning. My brother drove me to Wheelock College, which is a college primarily focused on education and early childhood development, with roughly 1200 student. And only 400 of them are grad students. I went there for the open house, and went on a quick tour of the campus (which was pretty tiny). I absolutely fell in love with the school. Apparently it's the first school with a Child Life Master's program, and the top one in the country. They only admit up to 12 students into the program, so it's pretty freaking competitive (but so is Towson). I just loved the supportive atmosphere of it, the way the class is small and set up as a cohort, and how they help set you up for an internship. Child Life only requires that you have 480 hours for your internship, but they set you up with two internships - one 400 hour internship in a hospital setting, and one 200 hour internship in a more narrow clinical setting. Which puts you high up there for employee seekers. I also like how all the major hospitals are literally right down the street from Wheelock, and how Wheelock is literally right on the green line which makes it an easy transit. Like I said, I fell in love with this school.
After my brother brought me home, him and his roommate and I walked to The Red Lentil - a pretty awesome vegetarian restaurant right down the street from his apartment. As much as food causes me so much anxiety and chaos in my mind, I love trying out new restaurants. Especially veg ones where you can only find in specific locations. I loved the food. I got the vegan pumpkin bisque, and a butternut squash and artichoke quesadilla with vegan cheese.
After lunch we came back to Josh's place, and I slept some more (you'd think I was an old lady!). Then I took the bus into Boston to visit a friend in Harvard Square. I had so much fun hanging out with her and just chatting. Most of our conversation had nothing to do with our eating disorders, which was really refreshing because I feel like most of my relationships center around our eating disorders. And it was cool that we could have fun and enjoy each other's company WITHOUT shit talking treatment centers and talking about how fucked up we are. Along with many other stores, we spent a ton of time at Newbury Comics, which had hardly any comics, but a TON of unicorn stuff. I went crazy. I don't actually have money to spend, but oops. I kind of went a little crazy in there. I'm not going to tell you how much damage I did, but let's just say it's been a while since I've spent that much money on myself (or any money at all, really). I went insane buying unicorn pins, magnets, socks, gloves, and the most amazing unicorn ugly Christmas sweater I've ever seen. I wasn't going to buy it at first, because money, but after I checked out with my pins galore, I KNEW I'd regret it if I didn't buy it. So I got back in line and purchased it. I'm not regretting the hole in my pocket at all. Anyways, I had a blast hanging out with my friend and I'm so glad we were able to meet up. We spent about 3-4 hours just walking around Harvard Square and checking out shops and chatting, and totally lost track of time.
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| The most amazing ugly Christmas sweater EVER |
I didn't get much sleep last night, maybe an hour. I had trouble sleeping. So after I flew back home this morning, I spent most of the day sleeping. I had a really good weekend, but I struggled a lot with food today. You'd think my passion for Child Life, and my love for Wheelock in all of it's competitiveness would have motivated me for recovery. After all, I KNOW I can't be successful if I'm in my ED. And after a rough semester this Fall, I really need to do well in the Spring to pull my GPA back up (it was pretty good, but I'm pretty worried with this semester being so bad). But I kind of left Boston feeling kind of discouraged and more pulled to my eating disorder. Child Life is what I want to do, but it's competitive, and I'm nothing special when it comes to academics. Sure, I have a lot of volunteer hours and a lot of experience with kids, but I'm not confident that any of that will make me stand out. If I don't get into grad school, then what?
Happiness
I got this interesting new book called "How to be Happy (or at least less sad)." It's not a self-help book, but more of a workbook to explore your thoughts/feelings, recognize them, express them, etc. And it's like a quick thing you can do, not something where you have to spend like 45 minutes writing paragraphs to explain your current emotional status. Just like a quick 5-10min activity at most.
Above is the book (obviously) and a quick page I filled out. I'm going to try to make it a regular thing I do. Maybe not every day, but every few days to kind of check in with myself or process things. I don't know.
I like how in the introduction of the book, the author talks about how this isn't a Self-Help book. In fact, most Self-Help books pretty much fail you. I mean, I've gotten some benefit from Self-Help books, but they definitely haven't cured my problems (Although a book I highly recommend, which when I read it I thought was the lamest read ever, actually changed my life and way of thinking. It's called "The Happiness Trap." It will be a silly read, but if you actually apply the practices to real life, it does help.). The author also talks about how striving for happiness made him ultimately more unhappy, and a more attainable goal is to try to be less sad. Which I liked. Maybe happiness is possible, maybe it's not, but baby steps, right?
I have a tendency to skim through books (especially Self-Help books) to see what I'm getting myself into, and prejudge if I'm going to like it. I found a quote in there that was really relevant.
"You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness."
-Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
The quote hits home, and I have talked a lot about this in therapy. But I spend a lot of my time and energy on protecting myself from the bad feelings that go through my mind. Sadness, shame, grief, worthlessness, hopelessness, loneliness, the list goes on. My eating disorder plays a huge role in this too, because it numbs out most of the bad (except anger, which all my emotions get channeled through, and intensifies during my ED). But along with the bad, I'm numbing out everything else. Happiness, excitement, pleasure, joy, and again, the list goes on.
But Jonathan Safran Foer is right. You can't have it both ways. You can't just hide from the bad emotions and expect the good ones to hang around. That's hard for me to wrap my mind around. It's hard for me to accept. I worry, what if I allow the bad ones back in, but the good emotions don't come back?
I spent a lot of years suffocated by the bad emotions, that it's hard to know that I have any of the good left. I know it's been proven otherwise. I've had experiences coming out of treatment where I've felt good, on top of the world. But the bad emotions always flood back and overwhelm me. Maybe I just don't know how to live with the bad ones, how to manage them so they don't intensify. But I feel like there's this pattern, where I take care of myself, treat myself well, challenge my eating disorder in it's entirety (including my social isolation). And for a while it works. But it doesn't last. Reality hits me. That life is bad to live, and it's never going to be good. And then I go back to my eating disorder, because I know how to handle my eating disorder and live with those emotions (anger.), but I can't handle the rest. My eating disorder will either leave me numb yet full of anger, or it will kill me, and those seem much more appealing than living in a world full of self-hate and unpleasant emotions.
Thanksgiving... my thoughts, the bad, but the good as well
I was going to write a post about everything I hate about Thanksgiving, but I decided to go a different route. I don't particularly like thanksgiving, but that has a lot to do with my eating disorder. It's been a long time since I've spent a Thanksgiving with my family, and that has mostly to do with my eating disorder. My eating disorder gets in the way of me enjoying things like this with my family. It causes great anxiety around food and people, and especially when you put the two together.
Over the last two years, I've overcome my battle of being able to eat with my immediate family, for a long time I couldn't even be seen with food around them. If I went to the grocery store, I'd shove the food in my purse until I got up to my room where I could hide it from my family. I cooked in my room using a toaster oven, and ate in my room. Never did I think I'd be able to eat in front of people. I've even overcome barriers about eating in front of strangers (although I still have a lot of anxiety around it, and prefer to eat in my car). But something about eating with my relatives, especially on a holiday, is still really hard for me. I can't wrap my mind around doing it, or even why I have such great anxiety with doing it.
Maybe if it was just one person, or two, I'd be okay with it. But I feel like when my eating disorder became apparent to the rest of my family, it was such an awkward experience. I felt like people were watching everything I ate with a critical eye. And even though I'm much healthier, physically, now, I still wonder what goes through people's minds when they see me eat. "Is she going to eat that?" "Why isn't she eating x?" "Wow, that's a lot of z!" "She doesn't eat like she has an eating disorder." All these things, I don't know why they matter, but it makes me super anxious to be around my family and food at the same time.
It's been years since I've spent Thanksgiving with my family.
2008 - Our house. I was working for most of it, but came home for dinner. I remember being called fat at the dinner table (not in those exact words), and purging afterwards (not because of the comment, but because I was pretty in my ED at this time).
2009 - Deep in my ED. Thanksgiving was at my relatives house. I stayed home because I was too sick and emaciated, and was afraid of what people would say to me. This was about a week before I went into treatment for the first time.
2010 - At our house. I remember engaging with my cousins when they first came. But someone asked me if I was going to eat thanksgiving with them and I said no, and they replied that they guessed that. I remember spending the rest of thanksgiving in my room except when I had to come out for family pictures. I also remember scouting the house for food to binge and purge on when my family was out paintballing.
2011 - I was in Texas, I remember crying in Texas because I knew I would never spend another holiday with my family, because I was so deep in my ED at that time, and that made me sad because I love my family.
2012 - At our house. I remember stacking suitcases and a table up against my door and keeping the lights off and playing depressing music to tune out what was going on downstairs. I kept my door blocked because I was terrified someone was going to come in and see me, to see my existence in general.
2013 - I believe it was at my relatives house. I spent it at home, again. I don't remember too much about this thanksgiving, other than that I was deep in my ED, and my therapist said I spent a session crying about how I would have liked to have been able to spend it with my family. About a month before going into treatment for a second time (which pretty much changed my life for the better).
2014 - Much better year, but still to scared to celebrate with my family. It was at our house this year. I spent thanksgiving in VA with my friend, but I had also made a goal with my therapist that I would engage with my family at least once while they were over. And I did. I tried to say hi to most of my family, and I chatted with my cousins for a little bit. It was a stretch, but a huge success for me. I'd avoided my family for years, and to actually be able to talk to them, and not have them avoid me felt amazing.
2015 - This Thanksgiving. I'm not where I was last year. My family is in West Virginia with my family celebrating. I wish I had had the courage to go. I think if it was just one day, I could have done it. I did have commitments, but to be honest I could have gotten out of them. I'm sad that I'm still not in a place where I feel like I can enjoy the holidays with my family, as those are some of my best memories from when I was younger. I'm scared that I'll never come to a point where I'll be able to celebrate with them. Even if I do, I feel like I've broken strong relationships that I used to have, and that holidays with my family will never be what they were.
But for the good.... I have a lot to be thankful for. This list may come across as slightly silly, but all the things I'm thankful for I truly am.
Over the last two years, I've overcome my battle of being able to eat with my immediate family, for a long time I couldn't even be seen with food around them. If I went to the grocery store, I'd shove the food in my purse until I got up to my room where I could hide it from my family. I cooked in my room using a toaster oven, and ate in my room. Never did I think I'd be able to eat in front of people. I've even overcome barriers about eating in front of strangers (although I still have a lot of anxiety around it, and prefer to eat in my car). But something about eating with my relatives, especially on a holiday, is still really hard for me. I can't wrap my mind around doing it, or even why I have such great anxiety with doing it.
Maybe if it was just one person, or two, I'd be okay with it. But I feel like when my eating disorder became apparent to the rest of my family, it was such an awkward experience. I felt like people were watching everything I ate with a critical eye. And even though I'm much healthier, physically, now, I still wonder what goes through people's minds when they see me eat. "Is she going to eat that?" "Why isn't she eating x?" "Wow, that's a lot of z!" "She doesn't eat like she has an eating disorder." All these things, I don't know why they matter, but it makes me super anxious to be around my family and food at the same time.
It's been years since I've spent Thanksgiving with my family.
2008 - Our house. I was working for most of it, but came home for dinner. I remember being called fat at the dinner table (not in those exact words), and purging afterwards (not because of the comment, but because I was pretty in my ED at this time).
2009 - Deep in my ED. Thanksgiving was at my relatives house. I stayed home because I was too sick and emaciated, and was afraid of what people would say to me. This was about a week before I went into treatment for the first time.
2010 - At our house. I remember engaging with my cousins when they first came. But someone asked me if I was going to eat thanksgiving with them and I said no, and they replied that they guessed that. I remember spending the rest of thanksgiving in my room except when I had to come out for family pictures. I also remember scouting the house for food to binge and purge on when my family was out paintballing.
2011 - I was in Texas, I remember crying in Texas because I knew I would never spend another holiday with my family, because I was so deep in my ED at that time, and that made me sad because I love my family.
2012 - At our house. I remember stacking suitcases and a table up against my door and keeping the lights off and playing depressing music to tune out what was going on downstairs. I kept my door blocked because I was terrified someone was going to come in and see me, to see my existence in general.
2013 - I believe it was at my relatives house. I spent it at home, again. I don't remember too much about this thanksgiving, other than that I was deep in my ED, and my therapist said I spent a session crying about how I would have liked to have been able to spend it with my family. About a month before going into treatment for a second time (which pretty much changed my life for the better).
2014 - Much better year, but still to scared to celebrate with my family. It was at our house this year. I spent thanksgiving in VA with my friend, but I had also made a goal with my therapist that I would engage with my family at least once while they were over. And I did. I tried to say hi to most of my family, and I chatted with my cousins for a little bit. It was a stretch, but a huge success for me. I'd avoided my family for years, and to actually be able to talk to them, and not have them avoid me felt amazing.
2015 - This Thanksgiving. I'm not where I was last year. My family is in West Virginia with my family celebrating. I wish I had had the courage to go. I think if it was just one day, I could have done it. I did have commitments, but to be honest I could have gotten out of them. I'm sad that I'm still not in a place where I feel like I can enjoy the holidays with my family, as those are some of my best memories from when I was younger. I'm scared that I'll never come to a point where I'll be able to celebrate with them. Even if I do, I feel like I've broken strong relationships that I used to have, and that holidays with my family will never be what they were.
But for the good.... I have a lot to be thankful for. This list may come across as slightly silly, but all the things I'm thankful for I truly am.
- God. I'm learning to love God more and more everyday, and see His love for me. I know God created me with a purpose, and that purpose is beyond my eating disorder. I'm grateful that I have a God that will love me regardless of what I do, and will continue to fight this battle with me if I let him.
- Unicorns. Unicorns have a very stable place in my heart and always will. They've given me something to be passionate about, to bring me joy. Anything unicorn related always lights up my heart.
- Pumpkin. I'm thankful that this year I've actually been able to try a lot of the pumpkin products that I was once too terrified to try.
- My family. They've been there for me through so much. Even after years of shutting them away from me, they still love and support me.
- Coffee. I love love love coffee. I don't drink it much anymore, because a lot of times it reminds me of the darkness of my eating disorder. But when I'm drinking it (and following my meal plan), it makes me feel warm and comforted.
- Natty and Boh. My two sweet dogs. I love everything about them. They make me feel not alone and comforted, they bring me joy, and give me someone to love.
Feeling really pessimistic about recovery, lots of shit talk, so read with caution
I'm feeling very torn between wanting to recover and wanting to run back to my ED. There's like a small sliver of me that wants to recover, and that's the part of me that wants a future, to be self-sufficient, to not have to rely on my parents for everything, to work with kids, to be an inspiration for others, to be joyful, to live for God. But right now, most of me wants none of that. I feel really defeated. Like I can do the actions of recovery, but I hate every single part of it. I hate giving up a huge chunk of my life. Something that has kept me so safe, yet miserable at the same time.
Do I like living in misery? That's such a silly question. No, but yes. I don't know why, that makes no sense. When I'm in my eating disorder and living in misery, it's like a bubble that keeps me sheltered from everything else. I don't want to be happy. I do, but I don't. Everything is so confusing. I don't want anything to do with recovery, yet I'm doing all these things to seek help. I want to touch it, but dare I? It's terrifying to get anywhere close to.
It's not just gaining weight or not losing weight or eating that's hard, it's letting go of my eating disorder, my world I live in. I would love to just eat food and not have these evil thoughts running through my head. Gaining weight freaks me out, not because I think I'm getting fat (although those thoughts run through my mind as the weight steadily increases), it's knowing that I'm losing a big part of myself.
Tonight my dietitian basically told me that I have no excuse not to meet my minimum caloric requirements, that I HAVE to supplement if I'm below my minimum. But you know what, I don't want to. I don't want recovery anymore because it sucks. It's not even about not wanting to gain weight or losing weight or eating. I just want to be miserable in my eating disorder and not let it go. Fuck recovery, that shit blows. In fact, my eating disorder can kill me and I wouldn't give a shit. Because I'd be dead.
I don't know why I'm doing all these recovery oriented things. Because I don't want it, not fully. I'm so tempted to just cancel everything, and crawl back into my eating disordered life. And fucking "waste away" until I die.
Excuse my language. I'm angry. I don't know why. I guess I'm angry because everything that I am is basically being taken away from me and I'm not ready for it.
Do I like living in misery? That's such a silly question. No, but yes. I don't know why, that makes no sense. When I'm in my eating disorder and living in misery, it's like a bubble that keeps me sheltered from everything else. I don't want to be happy. I do, but I don't. Everything is so confusing. I don't want anything to do with recovery, yet I'm doing all these things to seek help. I want to touch it, but dare I? It's terrifying to get anywhere close to.
It's not just gaining weight or not losing weight or eating that's hard, it's letting go of my eating disorder, my world I live in. I would love to just eat food and not have these evil thoughts running through my head. Gaining weight freaks me out, not because I think I'm getting fat (although those thoughts run through my mind as the weight steadily increases), it's knowing that I'm losing a big part of myself.
Tonight my dietitian basically told me that I have no excuse not to meet my minimum caloric requirements, that I HAVE to supplement if I'm below my minimum. But you know what, I don't want to. I don't want recovery anymore because it sucks. It's not even about not wanting to gain weight or losing weight or eating. I just want to be miserable in my eating disorder and not let it go. Fuck recovery, that shit blows. In fact, my eating disorder can kill me and I wouldn't give a shit. Because I'd be dead.
I don't know why I'm doing all these recovery oriented things. Because I don't want it, not fully. I'm so tempted to just cancel everything, and crawl back into my eating disordered life. And fucking "waste away" until I die.
Excuse my language. I'm angry. I don't know why. I guess I'm angry because everything that I am is basically being taken away from me and I'm not ready for it.
Am I Ready to Surrender Control of my Life to the Lord?
"Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." -Romans 12:1-2I've been meeting with a leader on campus from Cru, and going through a booklet about life with God. Part of the booklet had the question, "Am I ready now to surrender control of my life to our Lord Jesus Christ?" along with the previous passage.
I've surrendered my life to God, but to surrender CONTROL of my life? That's totally different. I feel very lost and conflicted on this. I want to live my life for God, for His will. But part of that is surrendering my eating disorder to Him (which is so much easier said than done). I'm so scared of letting go of something that has controlled my life for so long. I want to be able to surrender control of my life to God, but I don't want to. I feel like I'm not ready. Like I can give Him pieces of my life, but not the whole thing. Losing my eating disorder is scary, for reasons I've previously posted about.
I was also listening to WGTS (91.9) and there was a song by Casting Crowns called Thrive, where they talk about how we were made for more than ordinary life and more than just surviving, but to thrive. And without God, I can't do that. I'm not thriving. I'm living through the motions of life, but I'm not living for God, which God calls us to do.
Why am I even doing this?
Why am I wasting my time? Why am I going through all of this? Why am I doing therapy, counseling, nutrition, art therapy, dine, seeing my physician and psychiatrist? Do I really want to get better? Because a big part of me says no. Am I really trying? Some days, maybe. But other days, no. I feel like I take a couple of steps closer to recovery, freak out, and slide back. Recovery terrifies me. I don't know if I want it. I mean, a part of me does, I want a future, a career. But what if all that fails? What will I be without my eating disorder? There's only a small sliver of me that wants to get better, and that's the part of me that loves spending time with my family and craves connection, the part of me that wants to be a child life specialist. But the rest of me says "screw it." Life is easier to deal with while in my eating disorder. I mean, not really, it's harder. But it masks everything and makes the world about my eating disorder, where nothing else matters. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm wasting time and money, and everyone else's time. Really all I want to do is stay out of treatment, because I don't have time for that. And I don't want to disappoint my family. I want to live a functional life with my eating disorder, if that's even possible. But recovery? That's so far-fetched. I want to go back to feeling like a zombie, living on coffee and safe foods, numbing out the world, feeling invisible. Why am I half-assing recovery, when I don't even know if I really want it?