worn out

I am so tired. I feel so run down and worn out. I live for the weekends because that's when I can re-energize myself. It is such a struggle to get through the week. *Sigh*

I had to wake up this morning at 7am, for an appointment with my psychiatrist a half hour away. I basically went in my pajamas, no make-up on, hair in a messy bun. I didn't care. I was so freaking tired and I hate mornings so much. I thought I wouldn't be able to talk about much so early in the morning, but I was able to express the feelings I have been feeling lately pertaining to that one horrible year of my life when I was 11-12. He offered some really good insight. And I am anxious to talk to my therapist about it tomorrow. I think I have been hindering my recovery lately by keeping these things to myself. As painful as that period in my life is, I know it is so necessary to talk about it in order to live a healthy life, to regain my power, and to not have fear rule my life.

After the appointment I came back home and went back to sleep for a couple hours before I had to get up again and get ready for work. I was so tired that I didn't feel like taking a shower or planning an outfit. I just threw on some jeans and a gray boyfriend t-shirt. Well wouldn't you know that I saw like 3 people I knew at work today. I looked gross and huge. It was so embarrassing. I just wanted to crawl into a hole.

After my first job, I got lunch to go and went on to my second job. I ate what I usually eat for lunch...a salad with grilled chicken on top. But for some reason today I got really full and sick after eating it. The first thought that popped in my head was that I wanted to purge. But I didn't. The fullness feeling went away eventually, but whenever I think about that meal I feel sick. I don't know what it was. Ugh. The kids at work were especially rowdy and unruly. I was just really annoyed. The youngest kid is grounded again and that means I have to entertain him. I am starting to think that's not really fair to me.

After work, I went home and took a quick shower because I felt so gross and dirty. Then I had an appointment with my dietitian. While in the waiting room, my therapist was getting her things together and about to leave (she and my dietitian share an office suite). It was good to just casually chat with her and crack some jokes while waiting on my dietitian. My dietitian appointment went well. I am doing better with breakfast, and I didn't skip as many meals this week. Although, I exercised a little too much this week, but nothing to be concerned about. I just need to cut back a little bit. I can deal with that. My dietitian had not weighed me in a month so she felt like she needed to. I did not look at the number. At first, part of me wished I had. I wanted to know my weight so much. I wanted that control factor. I wanted to know if it had gone down or up or stayed the same since a month ago. My dietitian didn't tell me the number, only that I had gained weight. Excuse my language but...WHAT THE FUCK. I was just about to die right then and there. I can't even think about it or write about it now because, well...this whole thing sucks. My dietitian doesn't know why I am still gaining weight. It's not like I'm overeating. If anything, I am eating less than I did at Remuda. And as I remember, I had a really hard time gaining weight at Remuda. I only gained 5lbs while I was there. Why is the number still going up? My dietitian wants me to get all this blood work done because she things something might be wrong with me. Super.

So after that I went to the grocery store. I made a poor, ED choice and had fruit for dinner. But I wasn't hungry, not at all. I still felt disgusted after lunch. I was getting drowsy from taking my anxiety medication earlier so I went to my bed and fell asleep. I woke up suddenly and felt really nauseous and thought I was going to puke. But I guess I was tired enough to sleep through it.

Now I feel super anxious and really uncomfortable in my skin. I have therapy in the morning. I am going to curl into a ball on her couch. Remember the movie Forrest Gump? The quote..."Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly. Fly far, far away from here." That's how I feel right now.