A little update because I've been remiss in my journalling.
This happened a few days ago so I'm having to dig into my memory a little further.
Therapist and I ended up not having a face to face session because the venue was closed over the holiday season. I don't know why I expected otherwise; these events don't register in my brain any more. I actually was fine with postponing for another week, but husband was insistent that I at least have an online meeting, because otherwise it will be 3 weeks without therapy. I succumbed because I was also anxious to know my weight, after acing regular eating for those two weeks. I felt convinced that I gained.
First time meeting over Zoom and it was so, so strange. Husband had to take the scales out from wherever he hid it (upon my request, since last spring), so I could weigh myself at the start of the session as usual. The dial hovered a little before settling.
"It says between 42 and 43. Sorry, I have analogue scales," I said.
"Shall we say 42.5?"
"Let's say 43. I don't trust these scales compared to your digital ones. I've literally had them since 2010... we've been through a lot."
And that's true, I have thrown that silver square outside my window at least once, then when I sobered up / romanced the disorder a week later I picked it up from the back garden and welcomed it back into my room. A snail had already managed to make its way inside.
Assuming my scales are correct, and even if we went with the higher estimate it's still funny that I lost a little from before. We discussed and negotiated all the boring numbers for a while. I definitely don't like this whole online thing. I feel compelled to only relay good news and the setup is not conducive to opening up. I also felt conscious and paranoid about my family being in the next room.
I have been trying to increase my steps daily, just so I can meet the default step target my fitbit has. Its not even 10k steps, just 6k. I know this is compensatory behaviour because I obviously feel better about regular eating if I get some activity in - let's call a spade a spade - but at the same time, I can't just be sedentary all day.
Im not sure if it helps that husband has lost weight too. He has developed a routine where he doesn't eat until his 30 minute workout, but sometimes due to his schedule the workout doesn't happen until noon or later, so he inadvertently starves all day until then.
Last night my husband and I attended another Webinar by my therapist and the host introduced him as a doctor who treats people with "severe" mental health issues.
Husband and I were laughing because we were like, but he's treating me! That's hilarious. I'm not crazy like his other patients.
This morning I realised, wait, eighteen years disordered *is* severe. That's about two-thirds of my life. My therapist told me my condition is severe. G who has seen me through the depths of my illness said it is severe, and that I was just in denial.
This morning's realisation was a wake-up call. It's important that I never let my guard down; that's what led me to relapse in the first place.
I have been so productive with decluttering and reorganising lately; I definitely have this manic energy about me at the momen. For example, I finished writing the first draft for a screenplay the other day. Started at noon and finished around 1030 pm. It's only for a five-minute film and I ready had brainstormed ideas prior, it's just I hadn't written or done the scene cards for it until that afternoon.
Anyway, that's done now so I handed it over and hopefully we will get to sit down with everyone else to discuss it soon.
It's 2am. I need to sleep.
2021-12-29.2:05 a.m.
<< | # ! ? ♥ | >>