This morning I scribbled a note on my hand in the hope that it would remind me that despite how difficult things may be right now, I still have to keep going. It reads “Stop letting you mind win” because that’s what happens when it gets to those moments during a meal time. My mind wins out. It throws up all my flaws and failings and attempts to convince me that I am not worthy of recovery. That I do not deserve to be here, in this space, taking up space. I’m tired of having the same argument with myself over and over again. If I choose life than I have to choose food too. Life cannot exist without it. As much as we’d like to make ourselves believe that we can run on coffee, adrenaline and a few scraps of a meal here or there…we can’t. At least I know that I can’t. So even though it feels pretty damn awful now and I have eaten more food today then I can remember doing in a long time, I can rationalise it. I can see that in order for my body to heal and my soul to repair than I am doing exactly what is needed.
Of course there were wobbles today because this is treatment and it’s just part of the package. I just wasn’t prepared for anger. I never quite know what to do with it and it’s not like I can walk it off here like I usually would do or shout at someone even if I find their actions to be infuriating. I can’t even have a scream as that would draw attention which I really don’t need. Instead I ended up calling a friend who is used to my rants and kind of let it out there in shouting whispers. I’m sure it would have looked pretty amusing to watch. Things on the ward were just getting to me and because I don’t really have any friends here and I’m not close to anyone, I just needed someone who was going to be able to hear me and get it. I don’t want to be the whiny woman who gets irritated by everything and isn’t very pleasant to be around so I am finding that I am just letting a lot of things go. Clearly though I am not letting them go and they have been building up. It’s little silly things though that come with living in a shared space – which I’m not used to because I live alone. It’s being treated like a child at times and being stuck in the same place 24/7 and getting that caged rat sensation. I think its more that I miss my home more than anything and I’m a kind of exhausted from challenging things multiple times a day. Do you remember when I used to get stressed about challenging one thing a week? Suddenly I am realising how even though I thought I was pushing myself hard, the truth is that I wasn’t. I’m having a lot of wake up calls, aren’t I?
Supper and a couple more hours of being awake left then I can finally go to sleep.
I hope your day has been good to you.