Part #17

I guess this is just a diary post and doesn't have any rhyme or reason...'Note to self: eat some food, for God's sake...'

So, second session of counselling to come on Monday and an early doctor's appointment. I'm already thinking of excuses not to go to either, but realise I just have to. I'm not really sure what it is which bothers me so much. Not exactly 'realisation' of things and 'confrontation' of events - I do that in this blog. Just a bit of background dis-ease. 

My weight has plateaued for a while. And suddenly, 3lb have come off. And oddly, I have been trying really hard to keep meals in as often as possible, too. Last night, a small plate of fish and veg stayed in and down. I guess it could be something to do with the biochemistry of digestion and carb-burning, but it's 18 years since I did Biol, so forgive my rustiness!

I'm also not 100% certain exactly WHY the pain in my legs and hips is now worsening to such a degree that I don't know what to do with myself at times, although I know malnutrition is obviously a major factor. The mineral inbalances won't help, either, despite the supplements I take. Last night, I couldn't get comfortable - sitting on a hot water bottle like an old woman with piles! Up-down; up-down; moan, moan, moan. I was a miserable bugger last night! When we went to bed, I had this startling sensation through my left leg. You know when you awake in the mornings, have a stretch and you can't quite clench the muscles in your hands properly because they are so relaxed from the sleep? My whole left leg went like that. All the muscles were useless. It perplexed me slightly. More so because it took me a while to actually describe what it was like to Ian.

I seem to be teetering back towards 'bulimarexia'. It's not a condition I am happy to be heading towards at all. Confusion reigneth in my head so much and I feel like I am going bonkers sometimes. It's playing havoc with my circulation and I am either ice cold or the sweat literally pours out of me. There are times such as last night when I will eat a small meal and force myself not to get rid of it - even though this can sometimes cause me a fair bit of mental angst for a good hour or so - and there are other times when I cannot go near food for wanting to retch...then there are the times when I want to hoover up everything savoury in sight. 

I suppose the bingeing could be unkindly misconstrued as greed. It must appear rather odd to someone who enjoys their food 'normally' to watch someone gorge on all sorts of delights (although my 'downfall' is simple bread) and then bring it all back up. It's so much deeper than that, though - and extremely difficult to explain. It's not an example of 'wanting my cake and eating it' (if you'll pardon the pun!) it's that old demon, 'control'...and its sister 'lack of...' The 'white mist' I described in an earlier post which took over during my cutting periods is very much alive and present during the binge times and is visiting more often than I like.

I have become dreadfully self-conscious. I feel myself burning up with embarrassment at all sorts of events, comments, situations. Where once I could back-chat any man, now they only have to look at me and I can blush dreadfully. If I screw up my reverse parking, I am blushing, even if there is no-one around; sexual innuendoes make me blush; certain things which have happened to me over the years - if I recall them - they have the potential to make me blush...even if I am completely alone and am not discussing it with anyone. I hate it. I thought I had got over my ridiculous blushing in my early 20s when I left home. It is horrible that it has returned with such a vengeance now. Why on earth should it have come back?

I don't feel very attractive at all. Although I haven't exactly stopped taking pride in my appearance, I find just blending in to the background, wearing jeans, sloppy tops, boots etc just lets me fade into insignificance. My wardrobe of beautiful skirts and dresses hardly sees the light of day. Little fits, admittedly, but certain outfits I feel as though I'm not worthy enough to wear. Does that make any sense? Where once I was flattered by a compliment, now I feel very uncomfortable. If someone hasn't seen me for a while and comments on my weight loss, I squirm inside and try to change the subject rapidly. If it's a woman who remarks, it can be a bloody nightmare, as they "Want To Know [My] Secret".

So, this evening, we are making the effort to 'dress for dinner'. Candles, tablecloths, posh outfits - the works. A bit of lippy won't go amiss, either! It's all too easy to sink into a rut. And climbing back out from the bottom is harder than working your way back from half-way up. As long as you can keep getting out of bed in the mornings...

As Anne Lamott said:

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: You don't give up.