The Biggest Apology I've Ever Made

Hi. Okay, so you may have noticed that the word "apology" is the focus of the title of this post. There will be many much needed apologies coming up, so get ready... First, I want to apologize for not posting in a long time. I've been...busy? No, I've been lazy. There's been a lot that has changed and updated, and I will reflect on that soon (fingers crossed) in another post very soon, but for now, I want to focus on something more important than just what has changed recently. Second, (beginning the girth of why I'm apologizing, I just have to say that I am sorry. I am so, so, sorry. Not only have things in my life changed, but so have I...and not necessarily for the better. I want to apologize to my friends from any treatment that I've ever been in. Earlier this summer, I got upset with one of my counselor's and I just quit treatment. I gave up. I missed the life that my eating disorder gave me, so I went back to it. I'm sorry to my "friends in recovery" because I wanted to be a better example, a role model for when you wanted to give up, and a better friend. I'm sorry because a real "friend" wouldn't do that. I'm sorry for telling you that this lifestyle is not worth it and then turning around and being a total hypocrite. I'm sorry for not talking to you or inquiring about your lives and struggles all summer. I'm sorry for never making an effort to see any of you. I'm sorry that I let myself become a victim again. I want to apologize to my friends. I didn't make any effort to see any of you this summer, and I'm even more sorry because I didn't want to. I used the excuse of summer school and work to not hang out with you, even though I could have numerous times. I'm sorry that I didn't ask how you were doing more, and for not being there to support you. To be 100% real, I was too tired and I had no energy to do anything (because I wasn't eating like I should have been), so I just stayed at home. I love you guys so much, and I haven't showed it in any degree. I'm sorry. This should be saved for last because He is THE one I should be giving my biggest apology to, but I need to save the last for people who I feel most sorry about (which might not be good...?). But I'm sorry to God. You have given me countless chances, put so many different people in my life, and given me so many blessings and grace to conquer this disease, and I disregarded all of it. I fell into sin, and I did it willingly. I knew the repercussions of what I did, and I didn't care. I didn't care about destroying the temple you've given me. I didn't care about the people you sent who were worried about me. I didn't care about the love and redemption and freedom you gave me through your death. I gave into temptation and flesh and I wanted it. I was not your servant and by means NO example of you. I'm sorry for getting a tattoo in honor of you and your love, and then being a complete hypocrite and making it a joke or a lie. I didn't live my life for you, and I am sorry. Now for the big apology I have to make: to my parents, brother, and family. I am truly sorry. I know, I've said it to you different times, but I don't know if you truly grasp the depth of how remorseful I truly am for what I've done. I'm sorry for tearing us apart. I'm sorry for making you watch me destroy myself. I'm sorry for making you think that I'm going to die. I'm sorry for keeping you up at night wondering if I was still breathing. I'm sorry if I made you lose faith in God or His love mercy. I'm sorry for all of the stupid fights and yelling over food or meals. I'm sorry to my Mom for adding to all of the stress that you have already, being mean to you, being edgy and cranky, and saying things that I never meant. I'm sorry to my Dad for not doing my best, not doing what I need to do, making you doubtful or unsure, and not living up to the potential that you believe I have. I'm sorry to my brother for making you endure all of the fights with Mom and Dad, not being there for you more, for scaring you, for not being a good example of the love of Christ that I want you to have, and for not being a good sister. I'm sorry to my aunt who came all the way from Washington to visit for making your trip miserable and uncomfortable. I'm sorry to my Grandma for not being there for you more when you needed me, or for being there but only for my own self and benefit. I'm sorry to my family, in general, for not being all that you know I can be and for making all of your prayers and well-wishes a waste. So, in sum, I'm just so sorry. I've been mean, selfish, hurtful, disobedient, stubborn, willful, prideful, arrogant, and hateful. It's no excuse, but please know that it wasn't me; it was this stupid disease. I don't want to live like that. I want to be happy and nice and, well...me. Please know that I am going to do my best to make this right. I'm going to eat better, pray harder, study more, and make a life for myself. Not just that, but I'm going to do something to make this world a better place. I love you all more than anything. I can't express myself fully in this post, and (to be honest) I have class in 8 minutes, so I'm keeping this brief. I'm sorry. I love you all. God bless you. I'm apologize.

Mirrors and Tears

Well, it's been 6 months in recovery. I've been through hard times where I thought I wouldn't make it, and I've been through glorious times of triumph where I felt God's hand on my life and Him guiding me in this journey. Here I am now, and to be honest, now is absolutely terrible. It is the worst I've been in the recovery process. Actually, it's the worst I've been since the eating disorder started. So here's what's been happening.... It's always been my dream to go to California. Actually, I've always felt called to live there even though I had never been. Well, I found that I had the time and money to be able to go, so I did it. I went to Santa Clarita, California to visit one of my best friend's from Lee who is from California. I used my own money to buy my airfare and activities. Now, I HATE, LOATHE, DESPISE spending money. I put all of the money I make into my savings account and don't touch it. I'm blessed and spoiled to have the parents that I have because they give me everything I want and need, which has transpired into a bad thing because I rely on them for everything. Regardless, spending money is not my thing, so making this huge investment was a huge move for me. However, I didn't realize that until I was actually there. The first night, I realized how much money I had spent and how much I was about to spend, and I became incredibly depressed and stressed and anxious, and I wished I wouldn't have gone at all, but I was already in it so I had to make the most of it. I spent half of the time miserable, but half of the time having a lot of fun. We went to Disneyland, Universal Studios, the beach, San Diego, and we hung out with her friends. I really enjoyed spending time with her friends because I have so much in common with them and I wish that I had friends like that (not that I don't love the friends I do have). So with all of that fun going on, why was I so miserable, you ask? Because of the money. So much money. On top of money, eating and I don't have a very good history. Because I was so stressed about spending money, I literally spent the entire week starving because I was too scared to spend money on food. I brought a lot of snacky food, so I ate that instead of buying food. On the bright side of that, though, I didn't eat because I was too stressed about money and not the food itself , which would have been the case in the past. Praise God for that. To wrap that up, I could not wait to get on that plane back to Ohio, which is really sad because I would love to stay in Cali forever if I wasn't so stressed about money. And then I returned home...and the depression began. I can't put my finger on what exactly sparked it, but I have become insanely depressed, more so than I have felt in years. Very unfortunate since I also just got out of a forever long funk and finally beginning to feel happy. While I don't know what caused the depression, I do know why I feel depressed. I hate the way I look. HATE. Call me a typical anorexic, but I'm fat. Well, medically, physically, "health" wise I'm not fat, but to me, I'm a house. I don't feel like I look the way that I'm supposed to. I feel too big for how I should look, and this is eating at me to the core. Every time that I look in the mirror, I either feel physically sick or I want to break down in tears. I don't want to go out and do things because I don't want people to see me. I don't want to see people from high school because I don't want them to see how big I've gotten. I've been working as much as possible because it's the only thing that takes my mind off of my body. I feel stuck because I used to be able to control my weight and appearance by starving myself, however, after going through a week of that in California, I don't want to do that ever again. I'm also still going through treatment, so I can't do that there either. All that I want to do is go on a diet. Like, that would literally make me so happy. What I need to do is start working out so that I can get toned and everything, but I don't know what to do or how to do it, and quite frankly, I hate working out. I'm way out of shape and I get bored easily. That's more of a "suck it up and get over it" situation, but it's what it is right now. Right now, I just wish I never would have left Lee to go into treatment. At the same time, though, I'm thankful I did because if I hadn't, I'd be dead. What a double-edged sword. People often say "would you rather be fat and happy or skinny and sad?" Well, right now I'm fat and sad so where does that get me? Exactly. I feel more sad now than I did when I was incredibly sick. I don't plan on changing, though. I still plan on following my meal plan and trying to get through this. Still, I'd rather be skinny than healthy. I could care less about being healthy. I've learned that eating disorders suck and they are awful, but the matter of fact is, almost every single person on the face of the earth have some sort of distortion with food or eating. So no matter where you go or who you meet, people are going to have something "disordered" about their eating. My attitude right now is who really cares if I diet? The rest of society does it, so why can't I? You see, I hate society and the media. It makes people feel like garbage and like they aren't good enough. That's why there are so many diets and exercises and eating disorders and plastic surgeries in the world. Even though I feel that way, I am falling into society's trap. This depression has made me vulnerable and mean. I've been showing the classic symptoms of a bully, where they don't like themselves so they're mean to others. In my case, it's my mom. I feel terrible every time I say something mean to my mom, but I just keep doing it. I try to avoid her as much as possible because I don't want to hurt her, which hurts me because I want to be able to talk to her without being mean. I talk to my dad a lot about what's going on, which I know also hurts my mom. Needless to say, that relationship needs major work. Now on to my faith. Well, that's a weird subject in the midst of this. I'm not mad at God, and I don't blame Him for what's going on. I still believe that there is a greater good to come out of this all. However, I'm having a hard time giving these problems up to God. When it comes down to it, I guess I don't want to. I want to feel miserable so that I can have the motivation to lose weight. In reality, I need to be in prayer and communication with God, asking Him to give me confidence and acceptance that this body is what it needs to be, and it is beautiful the way it is. Right now, though, that isn't happening. I have to do my hair or makeup to feel slightly pretty, and I feel disgusting if I wear anything other than t-shirts and gym shorts (which, I might add, hardly fit me anyway). I'm sorry that this isn't a very happy or inspiring post. It may be even down right depressing or triggering. However, this is what recovery looks like with the ups and downs. This is a major down, but with that, there will be a major up. I don't know when that will be or what it will look like, but I have faith that God is going to move in my life. I just hope that it's soon because this stage of life really stinks.

I Did It!...And Why Does Adam Levine Have Blond Hair?

First off, I'm watching "The Voice" and wondering...why the devil does Adam Levine have blond hair? Blond hair doesn't work on Adam Levine. Anyway, I FINISHED INTENSIVE OUTPATIENT TREATMENT (IOP)! I did it! I did it! I did it! AND I finished two weeks early! Who would have guessed I would finish that early, yet I stayed in PHP so late? Kind of funny, really. Regardless, I AM DONE WITH PROLONGED TREATMENT! Now, I'm outpatient level..HOLLAAAAAAAA! That means I'll go up to Children's once a week or every two or three weeks (I'll find out tomorrow at my appointment how much they want to see me). I'm so excited! The only thing that sucks, though, is that I'm still weight restoring which I don't understand. Like, I feel great, my vitals are good, my thoughts are fine, and everyone tells me I look good, so I really don't get why they want me to continue to gain. I asked my therapist about it, and she said I'm only in the 25% of my weight range based on the normal weight range and BMI of people my age and height, which basically means I'm on the small end of the spectrum when it comes to other people with my body type. That was very reassuring. A couple days before that, though, I had a tough moment that put me in a funk for a couple of days. I went to the store with my mom and tried on a size of jeans that I would usually fit it, and they wouldn't go past my butt. It really made me upset about still having to gain weight. I grieved over it because I felt like I had worked so hard for so many years to get to that small size (mind you, by "work" I mean starving myself and exercising to the point of exhaustion), and it just sucked to have to go up. On top of that, I feel like my body is disproportionate because my legs are bigger than my top half. After a day or so of wallowing in bad body image, I bucked up and got over it. That just goes to prove that even when God delivers someone from something, there can still be some pushback.

With that said, I do believe that God has delivered me from my eating disorder. While I still have the fear of being fat (which has been with me throughout my life because I was overweight as a kid), it doesn't hinder me from eating and I'm not afraid of food. Praise God: I ate cake 5 times in one week. Cake is good. I actually eat food that I've been so afraid of eating for years and enjoy it without feeling guilty. I'm so excited about everything going on! One of the biggest things I'm excited about is being able to eat whatever I want without following a meal plan, and without restricting or compensating. I'm excited to start working out to be in shape and fit (I am so out of shape, it's not even a laughing matter). I want to be able to run because I want to feel strong and the sense of freedom I imagine runners feel. Well, I always imagine myself running through a forest in Forks, Washington in a dress like a vampire from "Twilight", and that seems pretty great. I'm just so excited about everything my body will let me do when it's nourished and healthy, but I have to wait until the doctors tell me I'm allowed to do all of that, which is kind of hard since I have no patience at all. I've also really been being affected by negativity, criticism, and judgement. I've been surrounded recently by people who judge other people or say mean things about them, and that makes me really upset. I hate to say it, but I don't step up to defend those people because I'm afraid of confrontation and basically a pansy because I just want everyone to like me. That's something I need to work on. I've also been getting really fired up about when people talk about food, and the matter of "healthy." I really hate society and it's message of "health." One of the dieticians at treatment said something very thought provoking: "It'll be interesting to see how in ten years the obesity rate goes down, but the rate of eating disorders goes up." It's so true! The media is constantly pushing no fat, low carb, whole wheat, "healthy" everything, and as it turns out, that's not right. It's very frustrating when you've learned the truth about something, but everyone else around you is taught something completely different. They've already got what they believe programmed into their brain, so there's practically no way to turn it around. I'm not saying that you shouldn't have a "healthy" diet, but that doesn't mean you should restrict yourself from food that you like that may not be society's current view of "health." Ugh, why is it like this? Why? And for that matter, why does society have to push this image of muscular, fit, skinny, "I need to workout two hours a day and do detox cleansing drinks" type of people? So frustrating! Okay, I'm done venting. When I was in PHP, mom and I started going out to breakfast every Wednesday, and we discovered my two new favorite restaurants: Tasi and The Angry Baker, two places in Columbus. SO divine. LOOOOVEEE it. Tasi makes an incredible version of my favorite food, greek yogurt and granola, while the Angry Baker makes their own rendition of it called "Three Bear Porridge." I could live off of those two dishes. They have other good food, but those are my faves fo sho. I also really love this place in town called Carpe Diem. They make meal replacement/protein shakes, which are also heavenly. I could live on these three foods. I mention all of this because I wanted to try these places for the past few years but never did because I was too afraid to. I say this because I rejoice whenever I get to go to these places because I actually enjoy the food and leave without feeling guilty. This is all because I did treatment, which has blessed me in so many ways. Not only did it save my life, but I met incredible people I'm glad to call my friends, an incredible and inspirational woman as my therapist who was the best I've ever had, and by the power of God, I have been delivered from my eating disorder. While I'm sure that I'll always have that fear of being fat, I don't think about or want to not eat to make sure it doesn't happen. I want to live my life free of fear of food. There are too many things in my life that I have to be excited about: my favorite restaurants, school starting in a little more than a month, being fit and strong, and being closer to the Lord. I praise God because this is all because of Him. Thank you, God. Now if only you could work with Adam Levine's hair, that would be fantastic because I do not know what is going on with that...

Praise God and Chocolate Milk

I FINALLY GRADUATED! Last week, I finally ended my treatment in PHP! 5 weeks later than expected, but I did it! Wanna know the best part? I actually feel better. I actually feel....happy. I haven't actually felt truly happy since I was in 8th grade. I don't know what exactly caused it, but I finally just started to feel happy about 4 weeks ago. I attribute it to the power of prayer and God...so thank you to everyone who has kept me in their prayers these past four years. I ended Partial last Friday, one day early believe it or not. Why? Because I got lucky and was allowed to road trip down to Tennessee and see my friends at Lee, which was great. I got back to Ohio on Sunday, and the next day, I began the next stage of treatment...IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program). Now,I go to the Nationwide Children's Hospital 4 days a week for 3 hours instead of 6 days for 10 hours. Side note: I haven't actually been in a legitimate hospital; I've been in the eating disorder clinic that is part of the hospital. Since I have more day time now, and since I'm not in school, I returned to work at my seasonal job at the local dairy bar. It's a very strange feeling. Like, I don't want to be back in PHP, but it feels weird trying to adjust to a more "normal" life. I mean, I've been doing the same thing for the past 9 weeks. It's just...so different. Like I said, I don't want to be in PHP, but there is something to be said about the structure of it all: there was so much security and rigidity in it so I wasn't concerned about when or what I would eat or how I would get it all in, since it was all done for me. Now, I have to come up with my own meals, and it's tricky trying to fit it all in. I'm really just struggling with what to eat. Praise God: I'm not struggling with the act of eating, I just struggling to make sure I get it all in. I also actually feel really good about myself right now. I was trying on clothes at Goodwill (my favorite) on Saturday, and it was the first time I saw myself in a full length mirror in a while. I walked out feeling incredibly confident and happy. I felt like I looked so good, and people keep telling me how good I look. However, I'm still on a weight gaining meal plan which makes me slightly anxious and nervous. Like, I feel like I look so good now, so I don't want to gain more. If people think I look good now, what will they think when I continue to gain weight? I know that those are really just eating disorder thoughts, but they are pretty challenging. Oh! I also have only had about 3 eating disorder type thoughts in the past 4 weeks (which is a big deal because I would usually have them almost every minute of every day). Now, I'm working on accepting myself and my body no matter how it looks and just trying to trust that I'm going to look and be fine in the end. I've learned a lot about myself and life in these past few weeks. I've learned that it really is me and not my eating disorder that doesn't like fries. It really is me that wants to be vegetarian because I simply don't like the way meat tastes. I don't have to be a size 0 because that is so relative. Jeans are weird because one size in a certain brand is completely different in another brand. I really love chocolate milk and I want to be one of "those people" who drink chocolate milk all the time. I'm kind of a home-body, and I really don't like that. Treatment has gone by super quick, and before you know it, IOP will be over and then I'll be in summer classes. I have so much to live for that's more than what's going on right now. More importantly, there are bigger things out there than just me or what I eat or how I look. Praise God, because I don't want the chocolate milk I just drank to be the biggest issue in the world.

Thanks and Promises

I'm currently in my 6th week of PHP treatment... a.k.a. three weeks more than what is intended for the program. Not because anything I or my parents have or have not done, but simply because my B.M.I. isn't where it needs to be. BUT today I found out the date that I will be done! April 5 is my last day! What that means is that I have two more weeks of treatment, making my length of stay a total of nine weeks...5 weeks more than what is intended. The most surprising part...I'm actually okay with it. I cannot tell you why or what happened, but since Monday, I've been in a great mood. It could be because I had a good weekend, or because my meds are finally starting to work, or maybe even everything has just been going my way. Nah. Honestly, I feel like this mood shift has changed as the result of all of the prayers I am receiving. I know that people are praying for me all over the country, and I believe in the power of prayer. And it's working. I've been in more a state of acceptance, happiness, joy, reduced anxiety, and just overall goodness. It's really nice to feel this way. So, I just wanted to say thank you: thank you to everyone who has been praying for me. Thank you to everyone who has been rooting for me and my recovery. Thank you to my Dad for sitting through the tedious and lackluster family sessions every week. Thank you to my Mom for overcoming her fears and paranoia and going out to breakfast at places I want to try. Thank you to all of my friends who have stood by my side through this all, and who listen (or read, rather) to all of my pages of texts complaining about my meal plan or my life. Thank you to everyone. I plan on staying better. Really. This time I mean it. Last night, as I got dressed after taking a shower, I had a conversation with my stomach and I promised it that I wouldn't starve it again, that I would treat it right, and that I would love it the way that it is. And I make the same promise to everyone: I promise that I will feed myself and I will do everything I can to fully recover. I believe that God has given me this chance to recover for a reason and I'm going to do it this time. I may complain, have my off days, or slip up, but I WILL NOT give up. I will fight this until it's dead. God will prevail over this ailment and I will be delivered. I may be in a four week program for nine weeks, and that may suck a bit, but if it means I have a better chance of living up to my promise, so be it.

So Much For 4 Weeks

GOOD NEWS: My 4 weeks of treatment in the PHP program are over! BAD NEWS: My 4 weeks of treatment in the PHP program ended last Saturday, yet I am still in treatment in the PHP program. Yes, I'm still in treatment. As I sat in one of the rooms where we spend most of our time here last Monday, I saw my therapist, doctor, psychiatrist, and dietician walking down the hall with intent to my therapist's office. When I saw this, I automatically thought, "Oh crap. This has to do with me." Moments later, my therapist came to me, and asked if I could come with her. I swear I'm a friggin' psychic. I sat down, nearly snuggling in the small office, with the members of  my treatment team, as they told me that my BMI wasn't where it needs to be for me to move on to a lower level of treatment that usually comes following the 4 weeks in the PHP program. They then told me that I would be in treatment longer, but how much longer they did not know, and that would be determined on a week by week basis. I left the room feeling very emotional, yet very unsurprised and very uncaring about everything. Every weekend that I 've been in this treatment, I've lost weight over the weekend. Mind you, it is always miniscule amounts, but it's still a trend that isn't supposed to be happening. I don't really know why it happens exactly. Well, I kind of do...I usually don't get all of my exchanges in and I do some sort of physical activity that I don't always do on the weekdays while I'm in treatment. Still, I usually only miss one or two exchanges, and the "physical activity" I do includes hanging pictures on my wall or walking up the stairs to get to the bathroom or my room; so it's not like I'm doing anything drastic. I am amazed, though, at the fact that with all of the food I'm eating and little activity I do I can lose weight, while there are people who work out and eat very little and hardly lose an ounce. I'm in a state of "hypermetabolism" (I've discussed this in a previous post), which means my metabolism is so high it just burns up everything it takes in quickly. I'm on a higher meal plan because of it. And I am scared to stray from my meal plan. The way I see it is I'm already eating so much food, why should I eat more than that? I'm scared to eat more than my meal plan says, in short. You would think that in this metabolic state I would feel like I can eat whatever I want with no fear because my body will just burn it up; but sadly no. Also, being on a higher meal plan has its pros and cons. Pros are that I'm excited that I get to eat so much (which sounds dumb as I write it out). Cons are that it makes it very difficult and stressful to get everything in when I'm at home. My psychiatrist increased the dose of the anxiety medication I'm on last week. It's supposed to make me less anxious about food, eating, and my parents being in control of my food. I've noticed the medicine has made me more willing to give up control to my parents, but I'm still very hesitant to do so. Giving up control to my parents has been the biggest struggle in this whole process so far. Within the five weeks of treatment, I really haven't done as I'm supposed to and given up complete control. It's very dificult for me to do. See, I trust my parents with everything...except food/portions/etc.. They don't know enough about it or what "normal" eating looks like for me to be able to give them complete trust and control, so that's where my problem lies. I really am trying to give up control, it's just a very hard battle. While the control battle is proving to be one of my greatest challenges, so is the whole battle of recovery. I've learned that through the re-feeding process (which is what I'm currently going through) there is a great deal of anxiety and depression that occurs within the patient; oh, is that the truth. Anxiety in that I'm anxious about trusting my parents with food or what I eat. Depression over still being here, not being in school, not having anything to look forward to, and just general feelings of depression. But the thig is, I don't feel depressed; I honestly feel happy, but I feel like a cloud of depression is covering that happiness. A lot of it stems from not having anything to look forward to (since I'm not in school, and even when I go back to school, I'm only going across the street to the branch), but when I put that into perspective, I only have like two months before I can start Summer classes and working again. Right now, it just feels like the whole recovery thing sucks. It's so hard and frustrating. Between the meal plan and not knowing when I'll be done with treatment, I'm so stinkin' frustrated and stressed out. On top of all that, my clothes are starting to get tighter, and my stomach is starting to stick out. Believe it or not, that doesn't bother me as much as one would think because I know it's part of the re-feeding process (also discussed in a prior post). All of the weight initially gained in the process accumulates in the stomach because it wants to protect the vital organs, but it will eventually re-distribute to the rest of the body as long as you continue to eat normally. I'm really really REALLY hoping this proves to be true because right now I feel like I look pregnant. In the past five weeks, I've been through a plethora of emotions. I go from depressed, sad, hopeless, happy, excited, disappointed, cheerful, annoyed, frustrated, overwhelmed, stressed, scared, and pretty much every emotion under the sun. I've been in states of "woe is me" to being helpful and offering insight to others. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be in treatment, and that's frustrating. I don't know how much longer I'll have to deal with the eating disorder, which is more frustrating. I'm still trusting that this is all happening for a reason, God is using it for a greater good, and God knows what he's doing with all of this. I feel very indifferent and uncaring about staying in treatment longer because I feel like it must be what I need and it is God's will. I'm done trying to figure out God's will for my life, and I'm done trying to fight it to try and have my will be done instead of His. I've adopted a sort of "go with the flow" sort of attitude. I still struggle, and I still fight for control. The difference now, though, is that I know when to put my guard down and give into what is best for me. Hopefully, that's what I'm supposed to do, and that's what will get me through this disease.

Oceans

I just thought I would share this song because I've been listening to it on repeat for the past 30 minutes. I first heard it when I was still at school at Lee, and it's stuck with me. It's a song I think of a lot when I don't know how or what to pray (which is the majority of the time), because it says exactly what I want to say. Give it a listen. If you believe in God, let it be a song to speak for you when you just can't. If you don't believe in God, listen to it anyway; it has a pretty melody.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1m_sWJQm2fs