So, my CPN thinks i’m ready to take the plunge. Having seen her every week/fortnight for 9 months we’re stepping it back to once a month. Eeeeek. I’m very happy that she thinks I’m stable enough, level enough, prepared enough to lessen the support. I mean I do have a million other weekly support stuff so it’s not like i’m alone in this. Just an interesting step.
I spent today (after back to back therapy) doing predominantly nothing but eating chocolate digestives and watching inane tele. I find it hard to have a day off, to let myself rest/recharge – my brain has the delightful tendency to spend the time I should be resting telling me all the things I SHOULD be doing. Ugh. Anywho then came dinner then came dairy milk. My stomach is ripe for bursting. It’s okay for now (ish, feeling too full is a big trigger for me) but tomorrow morning I’ll wake up, see the dirty plate with the guilty crumbs on it and bam It’s anxiety attack city centre. I have gained a substantial amount of weight over the past year or so – a mixture of munchies, medication side effects and a hearty plunge into alcoholism relapse. And I am trying to get used to this new body, this unfamiliar house I find myself in, but when I binge (food replacing drink/drugs, especially at night when I would of got smashed, it’s all addiction at the end of the day – right) I feel so ashamed and it brings up years of eating disorders urges and behaviours. Ugh just another thing to get a handle on. My therapist is trying to stop my preoccupation with “food, weight and shame” (sometimes she talks like a textbook) by advising me to e.g: no longer ask my dad for reassurance about how I look, try to avoid full length mirrors etc. I am trying, I’m managing to resist purging but it doesn’t mean it’s comfortable.
Side note: I just cut my own fringe, as usual, and it’s now far too short and I look like a five year old.
Life 1, Me 0.
Being a Hurricane 