I wrote a new post this morning which I was going to put up but just as I was finishing off the page disappeared. Needless to say I wasn’t too impressed and I am struggling to remember what I wrote. I think it began with another apology…my heart has not been in my writing lately and I have found it a struggle to sit down and make the time to reflect on how things are or what’s going on for me. Part of me wants to avoid it completely. If I pretend that it isn’t hurting me quite so much then maybe it won’t? There are some days when I think that I won’t ever get better and it is hard to acknowledge how far I’ve come since I first got admitted. I guess I just feel that I’m not where I should be. I expected more of myself and to not be that person still crying into their dessert every now and again. The fear of food becomes almost paralysing at times and I wonder how it is capable of holding so much power over me. I don’t think I even remember when it became like that. I know my discharge won’t be much further away and I genuinely don’t know how I am going to sustain this…my recovery. At the moment I can’t even keep to my meal plan when I go on leave for the weekend. I can’t let this admission all have been for nothing. I can’t let it be another lost few months of my life in which nothing has created change within me.
This week has probably been harder than others. The car accident that I had last week gave me a concussion that was more severe than they initially thought and so the only thing that has felt slightly bearable is sitting in a dark room, frustrated with myself, my carelessness and not trusting my body even more. I am still expecting payback for all that I have done over the years to try to damage it. I don’t think it has forgiven me yet and if I don’t make some kind of peace in my mind then I don’t think it will ever have the chance to forgive me in the future. My world seems so uncertain at the moment and I am conflicted between what I know I truly want and the direction that the Eating Disorder wants me to take. That part of me is begging me not to eat, to not gain any more weight, to just walk away from this entire idea of being better because that is not an ok thing for me to do.
In a couple of days time I have a care meeting to discuss what’s going to happen when I leave here. It’s more of a formality I guess because I already know. I’m not anxious about the meeting itself, but more because I have stupidly invited my Parents to it. I hoped that they’d say no but I should have known better…if you give my Mother the chance to get in a room with my doctors and be able to say whatever she needs to then she is going to do that. I know though that now that she is coming, this meeting will not be about me or what I want to say. This will be a nodding and smiling exercise whilst my Mother tells everyone how much crap I’ve put them through. I will feel about an inch tall and as always come out of that room feeling like everyone only thinks of me as this spoilt brat who makes other people miserable. I’ve always wanted that scenario to be different but by now I know that it won’t be and somehow that’s another thing that I have to make peace with and accept.
I am doing my best to get through all this and I do know that walking away is not an option for me at this point. I can’t put myself through this process again. It would be completely heart-breaking for me to have to repeat this process. I have spent far too much of my life living in hospital rooms it’s time for that to end. I want to go home.
I hope your day is good to you.