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I've lived in a dorm for almost two years now, and until today I had eaten in the cafeteria, for which everyone is required to have a meal plan and at which the vast majority of students seem to eat most of their meals, only one time, and that was during my first week here. Then, yesterday evening, I was feeling more depressed about my situation than I have probably in a few months, since I began getting formal medical treatment and started to feel like maybe I wouldn't be this way forever. I was beginning to feel again like there was a very real chance that I would be a virgin my entire life.

But then somehow I was able to pull myself out of it long enough to convince myself that I just wasn't trying hard enough, and that I could push myself to do things that I felt like I couldn't. I've noticed for a while now that when I am acutely very sleep deprived, my anxiety can dissipate and my mood can be much better, so I decided I would stay up all night and then go eat breakfast in the cafeteria in the morning. I made a point of telling myself I was going to do it, not that I'd try, since otherwise I'd just end up talking myself out of it.

The strategy worked and I managed to get myself there, which was really the hard part. Once I got there there were actually more open tables and more people sitting alone than I had expected, and I was surprisingly comfortable sitting there and eating. It was sort of a surreal experience, because over time I had gotten very used to the parts of the building I spend time in (mostly my room and, as little as possible, the halls). Although I obviously knew the cafeteria existed, somehow it was more of an idea to me than an actual place, since I couldn't really imagine myself going there. Sitting there, I felt like I had discovered a new room in my own house.

Since it really did not seem so unpleasant eating breakfast there, I decided I would (not try to, would) eat lunch and dinner there as well (which was weird in itself for me as I rarely eat lunch and never eat breakfast). I noticed that after I left breakfast, I remained in a very positive mood for a little while, but then I found myself remembering the anticipatory anxiety more than the actual experience, which made it more difficult to go back than I thought it would be when I was siting there at breakfast. Still, I managed to do it two more times, literally the day after I told my therapist I was sure I couldn't do it once. Perhaps I am more in control of my actions than I allow myself to believe.

Wow, I definitely did not intend to write that much, but I guess im in a very introspective mood.
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