It’s been one of those days that has been emotionally very trying but for no apparent reason what so ever. It started off badly courtesy of the scale, a thrown off routine and a mirror image which told me the only thing that I should be doing today was either hurting myself or going back to bed. I had no intention of following through with either of those things and figured that the only way I was going to get through the morning was to just push through. So that’s what I did. I straightened the flat, answered messages and then tackled the whole showering thing. It’s hard to see my body at the moment. It’s hard seeing it, feeling it’s too big and knowing that I am about to do something that’s going to make it even bigger. I hate that it bothers me, you know? I let it be something that defines my day but I know that it is more to do with how I am mentally then the way I actually look. Yet in the moment, I can’t figure out that the reasons my jeans horrible today is not because I have gained x amount of weight during the night, but it’s because I am anxious about something or my mood is in dark place.
Anyway after that whole crappiness of the morning, my Nurse from the unit rang me. Firstly I was just thankful that I wasn’t going to have to call her again because to be quite blunt I really don’t like doing it. I feel like I’m bothering people when I call and so it does make me uncomfortable. I was also relieved because it meant that I could have that conversation which I’ve needed to have these last couple of weeks. The one about inpatient treatment. As in stands, I am on the waiting list and that admission could potentially be a few weeks away. I’m not that surprised considering that it’s the only unit in the county but it’s going to be difficult to not talk myself out of treatment in the meantime. I suppose the plan isn’t really solid yet, but I know what treatment programme I’ll be doing, I’m going to work out roughly how long my stay will be there at the end of the week and yea…I’m expecting it to be hard. I am aware that other risk factors have the potential to get worse before and when I get there but I think just being aware of that is ahead of where I started last time. I’m not starting from scratch. I’m not walking into treatment like I was last time when I was angry, defeated and mostly in denial. I just have to get through this period as best and as safely as possible. Luckily I have a pretty good care team that are trying to do their best by me and I am giving my bloody best to fight against those thoughts which tell me to shut down.
The rest of the day went from moments of feeling that I was doing ok to wanting to crawl into a hole and not come out. It’s kind of hard tracking these ups and downs but I just keep holding on to at least now I have an idea what’s going to happen. I have a weapon that’s coming which is going to help me in my search for recovery. On those days when I can’t see an end, that is the thing that I need to hold on to. I also managed to finish the emergency letter this afternoon and I think I’ve covered all the things that I might want to hear in those moments when giving up seems like the better option. Giving up is never the better option. I had one regret when I left treatment last time and that was that I didn’t use it the best way that I could. For the most part I was already to flee and in the end I started to screw around with the process. I altered my meal plan and didn’t tell them because I thought I knew better…I didn’t. I was just going back to what was safe and as soon as I started doing that it was always going to be harder to stop behaviours those behaviours again. Ultimately I couldn’t but I hope that this time I can walk away at the end with no regrets and be able to look myself in the eyes and know that I gave myself the best chance I could. I’m scared but that’s ok. A bit of fear never hurt anyone. Being paralysed by that fear did.
I hope your day has been kind to you.