I don’t know how long it is going to be before I can write a good post again that’s got a little bit of optimism in it. I’m not sure if I ever will again. There is a sense of hopelessness which has settled in to my bones and instead of it easing, it is only getting worse. Part of me wants to take myself away from everything that is causing me pain but in truth I know that that place does not exist. As long as I carry myself with me then I will be hurting. I spent this weekend on leave, sure that a break from the ward would give me sometime to remember who I was and why I was fighting this but instead the Eating Disorder caused havoc in my brain. I fell to it so many times. I listened to the words that it told me and buried them in my chest, feeling like this is my life and I should find a way to live with. I think one of the hardest things that I am experiencing right now is the anxiety. Constantly I am trying to talk myself out of panic attack but it is growing tiresome and my energy and patience with it is running away. One of the main anxieties that I have – and which I’ve talked about on here a few times in the past about – is this idea that I am going to randomly develop an allergic reaction to something. That one day I will eat something and my body will respond in a way that it’s not supposed to. The anxiety is making this worse as you can imagine because it also manifest physiologically. It feels as though my airways closing up, my throat goes dry, my heart palpitates and that thought that something terrible is going to happen will not go away. I can logic it till I’m blue in the face but it doesn’t make the anxiety any less. I keep trying to figure out where it comes from and so far I have come up with two possible answers. The first being that I don’t know this body that I have anymore. I don’t know what feels normal or not. I don’t know how to make it comfortable again because I can’t go back to restricting and ultimately I don’t have much control over anything to do with it right now and the only thing that I have is developing these fears in order to cut things out of my diet. I can’t eat x because I might be allergic to it. May I point out at this point, that no I have never had a reaction to food except for possible strawberries. The other possible reasoning is that I don’t trust my body. It’s like I am expecting it to retaliate against me and make me pay for all the years of abuse that I have put it through. You can’t cause such great harm to something and not expect it at some point to seek revenge. However, whatever the reason I can’t continue living with it like this because I can’t keep feeling the way that I am doing.
The anxiety is also spreading to everything else too. This weekend it was the heaters in my flat and whether they were safe, the fact that I can’t smell and wouldn’t know if something bad was happening, the guys that stood around my car as I came out of the supermarket and I was convinced that they had followed me home and were waiting to break in. Initially driving. I kept seeing all these scenarios in my head and I wanted to make them stop but no matter what I did, they kept hitting me like a tonne of bricks. On Saturday night after the whole car/guys thing I went home and could not get my heart to settle. I felt like I was just waiting for someone to come and get me. I tried to distract myself. I tried to talk myself round. I restricted at dinner. Nothing was working and by 8pm I was ready to break. My Mum called to check in and I told her about that fear and so in the end I went round to hers for the night. The sense of failure and disappointment I had for myself was ridiculous. I wanted a night at home, in my own bed and yet I could not even do that. I should have stayed and rode it out but it’s more than possible that I couldn’t. Spending another night at my Parents was hard too though. I felt like I had to push everything away and no let it show how much I’ve been struggling these last few days. Every syllable I spoke took such effort so that she could not hear the stutter that creeps into my speech when I’m in a highly stressful head space.
Yesterday was again hard. I went shopping for a new coat and wanted to scream and cry every time I tried a new one on and had to look in the mirror. I had lunch at my Sisters and had to force myself to appear normal around the food that she made, even though it wasn’t ok. It all felt unsafe. I felt unsafe. I went back home though afterwards. Determined to at least spend the remainder of my day in my own home before my Dad picked me up to come back to the ward. That was a bit better. The anxiety of someone breaking in lessened a little during the day. My mood and thoughts still took too much from me and the Eating Disorder once again won out. I’m not sure after this weekend how capable I am of recovery anymore. Instead of showing me that I am doing ok or at least how much work I have left to do in treatment and that I possibly need to be here, it has convinced me that I am beyond help. That this brain of mine will not be re-wired and I am going to have to live with this noise in my head for the foreseeable future. Another reality I am not convinced I want to be in. I didn’t like coming back to the ward last night. The idea that I was going to have to engage with other people, use my voice, smile…it all filled me with such dread. I didn’t in the end. I put my headphones on and only came out for supper which to my shame I could not complete. The truth is I want to take my words and this weekend and bury it somewhere. I want my silence back because then at least then the only person who can be disappointed in me is me.
My morning weigh in was a loss. I don’t know how to feel about that. Anorexia is happy. I am not. Shouldn’t they balance to create something in the middle?
I hope your day is good to you.