After months of a living in the flat below the horrible neighbour (who I swear has been trying to drive me slowly insane) it is finally over. I signed for the keys yesterday and I have the rest of the week to get packed and organised and moved. My head is currently running through a stream of all the things I have to do before, but I’m making some progress, which is always good.
Now more than ever I need energy and so I must stay on top of my intake. I’m not going to lie and tell you that it’s easier knowing that. My difficulties get even worse when I get busy, food becomes an inconvenience. It’s not just sitting down and creating time to eat but the thoughts that follow afterwards have the power to still stop me in my tracks and make me want to just withdraw into the dark. I’m working on it, trying to figure out where I can add more, rather than getting to the evening and panicking slightly because I know that I’ve had no where near enough for the day and then trying to pack it all in at the night. It’s making me uncomfortable, physically and mentally.
But I am beginning to heal. I can tell by little things. That I don’t just think I could get away with skipping a meal, and that I do have to make it up somewhere. And it’s not just with the actual food that is getting better, the biggest change is coming from within. Yesterday I had an appointment with my CPN. I’ll admit that in terms of support I find her extremely unhelpful, and her lack of understanding on eating disorders often leads me to feeling frustrated afterwards. There were some things that she said to me yesterday that I did not agree with, words used, and I finally felt able to tell her that she was wrong. That the line of thinking she was going down was nowhere near what was actually going wrong. I’m finding my voice all over again and it’s wonderful. One of the harder things she started to say was that because I had made such a huge change in terms of my personality, that my thinking was more in line of recovery than everything would be ok. The fact that I’m not at a healthy weight was therefore not that important. She doesn’t get the struggle, but I was able to tell her that although my mood was better and I do want recovery, unless I can stop just talking the talk and actually act, it doesn’t mean quite as much, and that to do that, to be able to actually process big things, and to carry on with my recovery than I need to be at healthy weight because there is only so much that cognitively my brain can handle at the moment.
Life is feeling ok today, and I’m ready to face the challenges of eating out for lunch and dinner (my little brothers birthday). I’m also trying to accept that this week I need to see the scale go up. Talk myself down off the ledge of falling back into restriction when I see the number.
So that’s me this morning. Have a lovely day.
(Oh and writing at this time of morning does feel better.)