It’s not been a good day. In fact no day has been good for a while. I’m not quite sure what is happening to me anymore, the only thing I am aware of is the sinking sensation that doesn’t seem to want to disappear. Every day when something is asked of me, when I have to leave me I house and function like a normal person, I want to lay down from the tiredness and effort and simply say that “I can’t.” Those two little words seem to be taking up too much of my vocabulary lately. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t eat. I can’t stop weighing myself. I can’t stop feeling like I’m too much. I can’t think. I’m so tired of this defeatist attitude that has taken up residence in my brain but again, I can’t shake it.
I saw my GP a couple of nights ago. It didn’t go very well. He is just as lovely as he’s always been but now he is worried. He said it so many times that in the end he made a joke about it. I tried to smile. He wants to refer me back to the Eating Disorder Unit. I tried to explain that I am not there yet, that it was unnecessary, that things were not that bad. I said this and he looked at me with that sad face that people pull when you are burning yourself to the ground and they don’t know what to do. He eventually countered that if he didn’t think it was needed then there was no way he would suggest it. In the end we compromised with me saying I’d think about it. We talked, well he asked questions and I answered. He took my pulse and said he didn’t even want to think about what my BP would come up with so wasn’t going to do it. I don’t blame him, my guess is that it was down the toilet at that point. I told him that I was failing and he went on to give an explanation how I wasn’t failing, that you don’t fail when it comes to being unwell. You just are. I bit my tongue so I didn’t scream that I wasn’t unwell. He’s worrying and I don’t want him to which makes me want to just stop seeing him. I want to shut it all down and I want to shut everyone out. I can do this to me but I can’t do this to everybody else again. Anyway I did what he asked and I thought about the referral but in the end, I’m just not prepared to step back into that world again. I called and left a message this afternoon to say that I can’t go through with it. I’m too tired to fight. Too fat to stop. Too messed up to even care. I also got a letter through this morning with an appointment with my new care-coordinator in a few weeks. Another thing I don’t want. I feel like such a twat though because I know people are waiting and trying and trying to get this kind of support and I’m being some ungrateful little brat about it. I just can’t anymore.
You know what I hate is that I am drowning and everybody seems to be able to fucking see it. I was doing so well at hiding it but it’s like they see beyond it now and I really really don’t want them to see. I am so ashamed of who I am becoming and I’m supposed to be better than that now. I have a good life. The last year of my undergrad, wonderful friends, good family, safe place to live, people who value me and yet my brain keeps trying to trip me up.
Nothing makes sense and I can’t do this feeling nonsense anymore. I can’t do any of it.