I’ve been neglecting the internet recently. Comment neglecting, email neglecting, blog neglecting. Sorry. I’ve had a lot to process these past couple of weeks. I’ve not really done anything except have serious chats with people to help me get some perspective and reassurance, have panic attacks, walk and cry. All whilst trying to keep up with a mad load of uni work. Real life was too much as it was – internet things were not a priority. It’s ok though. I think it will all work out being really good for me and won’t end up being a negative experience. I’m actually not complaining about it, but it has been hard. The whole experience makes me feel sick.
I don’t know if this post will end up positive or negative or what I will end up saying. We will see I guess. I don’t really know what I’m going to say. I guess we’ll see.
The psychologist is a G. I’ve been freaking out this week and I called to ask for an earlier appointment. I thought it’d be a flat-out “No”, but instead my appointment was moved and I was offered some time to chat there and then on the phone. I think I got pretty lucky with the psychologist really. I’ve heard some pretty bad stories about treatment of eating disorders on the NHS, but my team seem to really have the support of my needs as the basis of my treatment. I’m really thankful for that actually.
Anyway, it was probably a really unproductive session as far as body image and food and weight and obvious eating disorder things go, but it was really helpful to me anyway and I think it’ll be really helpful to my recovery process. With a lot of help from people who care for me, it’s become apparent that I’ve been treated pretty appallingly by someone I really trust and it has really knocked back my self-esteem. I believe I deserve to be treated this way because I am rubbish, but really, no one deserves it. No one deserves to be consistently told how awful they are over and over again. It isn’t ok to do that. However much people tell me this, I find it hard to believe otherwise. I feel like I have to be nice and supportive and helpful to someone who has damaged my confidence and belief in myself. I don’t want to do anything that might hurt them. My needs aren’t as important because obviously I’m awful. What’s good for me doesn’t matter as I don’t deserve it and need to put myself second and keep someone else secure. Therapy yesterday really helped me put this into a different perspective.
I find it really difficult to think about what it is that I really need. I try to be supportive and caring and just dismiss what would make me feel better. I always feel like I’d be being rude or mean or selfish. Thing is, I wouldn’t be. If someone treats you badly and shows little respect for you and your feelings, you don’t owe them anything. If someone is emotionally manipulating you, you don’t need to be nice about it. It doesn’t make you bad to follow what’s best for you. You can put the decision off, ignore them forever, talk them through it etc. – as long as it’s helpful to you. Literally, a decision made with your needs in mind is the right decision to make. The truth is, I’d been forced to put my needs second so often that it’s just so ingrained. Although I didn’t want to, I already knew what I needed from this situation. I needed to get away from it. So I did (in the politest way I could think of). I sent an email explaining my feelings and explaining that I couldn’t see them right now as it was all too hard. I didn’t apologise for doing this as there is nothing wrong with it. I have been treated badly and am worth more. In order to gain some confidence and find out what I am without this negative imput, I have to break away from that situation entirely. It was incredibly difficult to do and hurt every second, but I needed to make the break. I needed to set boundaries which will help me to establish what I deserve. No more calls, chats, texts, meetings. I feel like a huge part of me has been ripped out, but at the same time, I know I’m worth more than what I’ve been given. I asserted myself and put my needs first. I feel like a bitch, but I’m not. I did the right thing. It will help me to progress recovery wise and help me to build my confidence back.
I am not responsible for someone else’s feelings or actions, only my own. I have to learn how to look after my self and my mental well-being. I’m not very good at that, but if I disregard my needs, I’m only making life more difficult for myself. I may not think I’m worth it yet, but I have to learn to stand up for myself. So I did.
Now comes the really confusing part of working out what the fuck I am now. If what I’ve been told I am isn’t actually true, I have no clue what I’m like. I don’t know what bits are good and what bits are bad. I don’t even know what bits are normal. My mind constantly feels like it’s exploding. I think I’m getting some hormones lately because I keep raging from crying whilst staring in the mirror thinking “I want to be deserving” then laughing over silly things then pouting over memories then singing to my happy playlist then thinking about all the boys that are pretty (hence the hormone thing – I swear I’m like thirteen. I think about how nice boys are a lot. I also have a spotty chin :(). My moods are confused, my identities confused, my memories are confused. Everything is bloody confused. I’ve never felt so utterly crushed and completely excited all the time. It’s weird. It leads me to spend a vast amount of time getting panicked and very physically anxious. I literally don’t know what I think about anything.
All I know is I’ve got to learn to respect myself so that I can defend myself against anyone in the future who might choose not to. I don’t want to be hurt like this again.
Lots of work to do I guess.
Also this week, I’ve found out my eyesight is worse so now have to wear glasses more frequently and chances are, I’m looking in two different directions more often than I have in the past. The wonkiness of my face plagues me. It seems to get less and less balanced by the day. And I don’t want to wear glasses all the time. Urgh.
And I have osteopenia. A coupe of my lumber vertebra are osteoporotic, but the overall score is osteopenia. Double urgh. Still no sign of a period and thinning bones at the age of 22. I don’t want them to get worse. I really really don’t. I’m thinking of adding a whole load more fat to my diet to try to encourage hormonal production as quickly as possible. I hate that I’ve damaged myself. In a couple of years, my bones will finish developing and any further repair will become difficult. I’ve got a lot of repair work to do in a short amount of time to try to get up to an optimum bone density again. I hate this fucking disorder.
Needless to say, this week has been hell.
But there are positive things too! Today whilst I was getting dressed, I actually spent some time looking in the mirror. I never do this for long as I hate what I look like, but today I’d spent so long in my dressing gown that my skin was getting all dry from the shower and I had to mad-rush moisturize. I sat at my dresser in my underwear and really looked. And you know what? I looked bloody good. Sure I have a little belly these days, but it looked soft and nice. I couldn’t see all my ribs and the bones in my chest and I thought “Actually, maybe that’s a bit better”. My arms didn’t look too big, my face looked all soft and feminine, I’m beginning to notice the fat I’ve gained starting to redistribute a little and I thought “You are properly buff actually.” Not my face, but my body. It didn’t feel big and clumsy. It felt normal and nice. That feeling disappeared with lunch when I suddenly became a planet all over again, but it was there. For a few hours I actively liked my body. That doesn’t happen often. Yesterday I really liked my legs for about an hour when I was dancing on the overground as well. I caught my reflection and thought “Yeah – they’re good legs.” And I actively like my bum most of the time. Maybe I’m getting there with the body image thing. Gradually.
And my bass guitar! A particularly fantastic friend bought me a whole bass and amp and other bits because they are lovely. So whenever things are particularly difficult, I try to learn some of the tracks from my happy playlist to cheer me up. I’m not very good, but it’s fun and it distracts a lot of my sense, plus I’m learning a skill which is always good. I know some really great people. I don’t know what I did to deserve such lovely friends. I’ve got all the thanks right now.
So yer, sorry for being an internet wasteman.