The state of neglect that has befallen this particular pocket of cyberspace is indicative of some of the trauma and some of the inexplicable sense of exhaustion that follows the experience of being cooped up in the unit day in, day out.
By the time I get home in the evening (having first run frantically around a range of supermarkets / shops / country lanes in an attempt to 1)get some sort of exercise and 2)create some sort of sense of separation between my life as a recovering anorexic and my life as a human being) all I really want to do is disappear into a protective shell.
At the moment, I'm thanking God (and Kate and William, of course) for the second three day week; thus a break from the intense goldfish bowl environment of the unit. However, I know that come Tuesday, the brief period of reprieve is over and there can be no avoidance of further weight gain.
With no exercise, supervised feeding of high fat foods and the addition of an obligatory three hundred calorie 'Fortisip' drink, the gain is inevitable.
I could write about the splits in my mind; the constant warring thoughts; the terror of the terrible losses that grow as I gain... but it's too soul destroying to even think about right now.
I am ruled by absolute fear.
I'm afraid that I will gain weight and lose the sense of safety that I worked so long and so hard for.
I'm afraid that I will lose weight and be forced to include another bloody Fortisip in my diet.
I'm afraid that I will be on this refeeding thing forever, yet I'm frightened that I might start piling on weight at a ridiculous rate.
I'm afraid that I might not be able to get over this hideous illness and I'll never enjoy food again, but I'm scared by the physiological responses to refeeding which make me hungry much of the time and less able to resist food.
I want to get better
but i don't want to put on weight.
It feels like a no win situation.
And I feel like a hamster, stuck on a wheel that won't stop turning, so I can't stop running, so it won't stop turning, so I can't stop running... and on it goes.
I have faith in you. I know this has been very hard, but you are working at the program. Wishing you peace during this time of recovery.
ReplyDeleteThe splits. Yes. I've met them both, the woman who wants to be well, and the woman who thinks she'll be safe if she disappears.
ReplyDeleteHere. Hoping you find some balance. Some dialogue. And that (eventually) you can risk living.
S
How hard all this is. I just want to let you know that I'm reading and I am thinking of you.
ReplyDeletehow much I get this....I felt so much the same. WS...it really does get better. I don't even know how it happened...how the wheel stopped and I somehow managed to climb off. All I know for sure...if I can do it....anyone can. I'm here in your corner, routing for you. And I'm praying and sending you all the faith and hope I have to give you whatever you need to walk free again. ☺
ReplyDelete" I want to get better . . . . "
ReplyDeleteIt warms me slightly to read these words . . .
Holding onto hope that you can continue to focus on your very words, despite the pain of the weight that 'getting better' carries . . . . and though you may not feel or recognize it yet, you are getting stronger, and with that strength comes the ability to carry and manage the weight in ways that enable you to live and not just breathe . . . . maybe you will come to believe that in your own time, but until then, I am still thinking of you . . . . cheering for you . . . . and maintaining faith in you . . .
With love,
Mel
Thank you all so much for reading still.
ReplyDeleteIt's been so long since I've had anything left in me to write that I'm surprised anyone is still bothering!
I'm out of energy having had a horrendous week at the unit.
But thank you...
x
WS, I agree with Sarah. It does get better. I dont know when or how, but it got better for everyone who 'wants to get better'
ReplyDeleteI often felt like this hamster in the running wheel. I often I wont get nowhere and what will I be after therapy. By now i know I am the best ME ever. Love form my heart to yours. Paula