Thursday 24 November 2011

Update

To my addled, heavy - saddled mind, the increasing pressure to write a blog post has borne a wormish hole through my head and I can't sleep properly until I have, at least, been here and written some words.
I don't even think it matters what they are any more; just so long as I break the silence.

What follows is a week's worth of situations I have seen myself in:
 
I've been scooped and planed and smeared with gel for an ultrasound on my liver, which continues to register stupidly high ALTS in a determined display of disapproval.

I attended a weigh in appointment at the unit, which revealed another small drop in my weight. Again, I was told I was unable to 'do' this and that I needed to be back in the treatment centre. 
Again I refused, knowing that they have no real grounds for threats whilst my weight is above 31.7kg / 5 stone / 69 lb... Today it stands at 34.0kg. I am incredulous (again and again and again) at the way this illness can CONVINCE me that I have put on at least 3 pounds every week. I can even SEE it.
Or not.

I saw The Woman, having completely forgotten to attend last week's session.
She has noted that lately I seem unable to allow myself a 'whole' of anything. I can't allow a whole packet of cereal, a whole apple, a whole sweet, and (judging by a regular pattern of totally unintentional lateness) a 'whole' session of therapy. (She doesn't appear to 'DO' "unintentional". Apparently (assume cynical tone) apparently its all to do with the unconscious mind.
Needless to say, my failure to even show up for a session was duly interpreted in the light of such analytical theory rather than the more truthful fact that I'm fairly malnourished and my brain isn't quite functioning as it should be.

The Woman has continued to be my place of safety.
Today we discussed Something Very Difficult (very briefly). I let it slide across me rather than through me.
We both know it was enough for now.

Tomorrow I am going away for the weekend with two friends.
We've rented a little cottage very cheaply and though I have questioned whether I can possibly enjoy a break from my safe but painful routine, I am now quite excited by the idea that I am doing something 'normal', with normal people, in a normal situation.
Normality is an underrated state, in my opinion.

Words being available, I will make some attempt at relaying just how successful I am in my attempt to join this fleeting dance with something outside of my world of body and battle.
Wish me luck.

3 comments:

  1. My heart is breaking for you. I wish you the best of luck. Please take care of yourself.

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  2. HELLO LOVE - oh my, it sounds feels IS all so chaotic - the healing journey is like that at times. Hang on, please.
    Loving you always
    Gail
    peace.....

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  3. My dear friend . . . . luck is as overrated as normalcy is underated, so rather than wish you luck, I will hold onto my hope that the self destructive part of you will weaken enough for you to experience the fun, love, and happiness that friendship can provide . . . . . . you deserve it, and I hope you are able to allow yourself this on your weekend away . . . .

    with love, still . . . . .

    Melissa

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