Yep. I just used that word, relapsed. I'm pretty sure that's accurate. Over the past year I have had slip ups and lapses, but always held onto hope and knew I could pull myself out of it. Right now I have little to no hope, and I don't see myself ever recovering. Deep down I REALLY want to recover, but I don't believe that I can. It's super frustrating and a hopeless feeling.
I saw my dietitian last night. I lost more weight. She seemed concerned and worried about my health. I felt so bad because she is so nice to me and loves me so much and tries to help me with all her might. But what she was asking me to do last night, to increase my meal plan, was something I felt like I was not willing to do. I hated telling her that, but it was the truth, and I always stay honest. I have been heavily restricting. My biggest fear is that I will lose my job and I will have to move back home. That's a very real possibility, as I lost a job 3 years ago due to my ED. If that happened I would be absolutely devastated. My dietitian is out of town for the next 3 weeks, which scares the crap out of me. So I will only have my therapist to lean on, as well as friends and my second mom. Because I couldn't really commit to a meal plan, my dietitian incorporated Boost supplements into my days. I have to have at least 2, and then we will go from there. I am so hesitant to drink them, because they remind me SO much of treatment and have so many bad memories attached the them, but I don't feel like I can eat solid food right now. My dietitian also suggested I find someone in my life that can keep me accountable with that, and who can eat dinner with me 1-2 times a week. My second mom will be that person. I already called her and asked her and she said yes. I feel so much guilt over it.
Therapy this morning was terrible. I left feeling so much worse. I don't feel like I accomplished anything, which is mostly my fault because I can't seem to do what my therapist is asking of me. She has all these workbooks and yoga exercises and positive affirmations and crap she wants me to do. But I just don't want to, or rather, I feel like I can't. I feel stuck in this nothingness and relapse. Therapy feels so pointless right now. I just don't get anything out of it. This happened a few weeks ago and I took a week off but ended going back and feeling better, and now I'm back where I was. I don't know what the hell is wrong.
Two people on my treatment team have suggested that unless I start eating more and stop losing weight, then I need to go back into treatment. This is a NO for me because I have my job and my house and my family to worry about. I can't just drop everything and go back into to treatment. That should be enough to get me motivated to start doing better right? WRONG. I am still using behaviors, knowing it will get me no where. I am already researching treatment centers just in case. But I seriously don't think anything will come of it.
I have the most intense anxiety going on. It feels like someone is clawing at my chest and stomach. It's almost unbearable. I constantly am trembling or tapping my foot because I just want the anxiety OUT of me. I'm trying to adjust my meds but I feel pretty hopeless about that situation too.
I have no idea what caused this relapse. I guess the only thing I do know is that recovery doesn't seem to be in my plans. I feel like there is too much wrong with me, too many complicated and unresolved issues, too much work to be done. I'm tired of fighting. There isn't much left. Maybe I just need to be at peace that this is what my life is and always will be. Recovery is not simple, and neither is an eating disorder. But I am seriously overwhelmed by everything I feel like I have to work on. The list to me goes on and on and on. . I feel, mentally, pretty similar to where I was before treatment last
year. Which is...deep deep down wanting to recover, but feeling so much
of..."I can't I can't I can't." It's one of the worst feelings...ever.
I left therapy feeling suicidal. I was just like...what is the freaking point anymore? I'm so sick of this. Of making progress and then going back to this miserable hell. If I wasn't going horseback riding tomorrow, then I don't think I would feel safe tonight. I constantly have to have something to look forward to, some means of support or fun in the days ahead of me to feel like I have purpose to stay alive.
I refuse to go to the psychiatric hospital and if I can help it, I refuse to go back to treatment.
I think I might email this blog post to my therapist, because it's a pretty accurate description of how I feel.
I have no idea what is is I'm doing. I just feel like giving up, which I have already started doing