Category Archives: Downer Day

Goodbye Friend

My friend died.

Not just my friend, my teammate, a person I counted as family – but the family you choose, not the one you’re stuck with cuz of birth.

I spend more time with my sports team than I do with any other people. I train with them, compete with them, socialize with them, chat with at least some of them daily. They don’t know about my struggles with food, and I may not go to them when I have problems, but that is on me not them, choosing to keep certain parts of my life separate from them is because that is how I am made, not because they wouldn’t accept me.

He died in an accident while on vacation.

I can’t get his face out of my head. I keep seeing him smiling, joking, doing these goofy push ups that he does…did. fuck. I have trouble speaking of him in the past tense.

It just doesn’t seem real. I keep hoping someone will say there was a mistake, he was confused with someone else and is actually fine.

At the same time I keep getting over whelmed with thoughts that one of his family members had to pack up his stuff in the hotel, and make arrangements to get him back home, and give notice to his landlord, and he shares a business with his long-term girlfriend, what’s gonna happen there? His dying affects so many people in so many ways, the hole where he is supposed to be hurts so many.

This past summer he was in my suv when the team was car pooling to an away festival. He brought a ridiculous amount of fresh fruit and kept feeding me while I was driving (not actually putting food in my mouth but just making sure I kept taking some), I ate almost the entire ride, it was crazy. He insisted I keep eating the fruit because it was important for the driver to stay nourished. lol. He was odd like that. And he always wore this hat, blue baseball cap style, but it has this piece of fabric that comes down from the hat to cover the ears and neck, he got it on one of his previous trips to Hawaii. It is a goofy hat, but he had a great smile and he didn’t care that his hat looked goofy, just that he had sun protection, so he’d wear it with flair. And he wore the same jacket for practices and during crap weather on race weekends for years, this blue and yellow water/wind resistant jacket. It was horrible, but so him.

He was full of life, and so nice, not just friendly but honest to goodness nice. He’d help out anybody with their technique, but not in a jerk way, just in a helpful way. He was all about the team, and what was best for it. He was easy going, and had a great smile, and was generous, and sporty, and up for a challenge, and loved to live life.

I hate the idea that his last moments on earth might have been filled with fear, or pain, or confusion, or despair. If ever a person deserved to live to a ripe old age and die peacefully in their sleep, it was him.

I don’t know the circumstances of the accident, none of us do, the family is keeping that quiet and we are respecting their privacy. I don’t know if I want to know, I want to pretend he died in some non horrific way, but a snorkeling accident doesn’t make that likely.

I’m going to miss him. I’ve been crying since I found out last night. I basically alternate between crying and sleeping so I can escape the pain.

The team is getting together Tuesday for dinner at a restaurant he loved so we can all be together. I don’t know how to share my pain, how to not hermit when something horrible happens, so I’ll have to figure out how to maintain my composure by then. For now though, I’m going to go cry some more, because he is now a person I write about and talk about in the past tense, and that is just not ok.

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Just Stop

Can people I know just stop dying, please, for like a week or so, because seriously man, I need time to catch up on all the grief I am feeling…or should I say trying to not feel cause who has time to grieve when people keep dying?

Ugh.

I feel like a selfish brat being all me-me-me while people are dying but ya know what, they don’t feel anything anymore, it is the people left behind who have to figure out how to process all the shitty feelings and some days there is just too much to process and you end up wanting to shut your eyes, cover your ears, and yell out la-la-la-I-can’t-hear-you! until it all goes away.

Ironically, the person has already gone away, forever, it is the feelings that won’t go anywhere until you either stuff em down with food, or alcohol, or drugs, or some other numbing system or you, ya know, deal with them…which is not a thing I know how to do.

Normally I am dealing with one dead person at a time so while it sucks balls it doesn’t overwhelm like now. But right now I’ve got one dead person, one going to die any minute person, one grieving person because someone they know died, and one more person who could go either way (dead or back to some semblance of living, though the quality of life they would have is suspect).

sigh.

I know I’m coming across as glib but that is the only way I can deal right now. I have no appetite, but when I am around food I find myself eating out of reflex since usually I manage high emotional situations with binges, so I’m trying to stay away from food so I don’t mindlessly binge. I don’t mind the restricting, I could definitely use some low cal days to counteract some higher cal days last week, and the week prior, aaaaaand ok fine, the week before that too.

My eating has not been on point ok?

Now it is getting worse and I kinda don’t care. Thanks to some of the stuff I’ve learned in recovery I sometimes know the choices I am making aren’t the right one, or the healthy one, and I sometimes stand in the kitchen and think “the dietitian would want me to do this” but then my brain goes “but you’d rather do that” and more often than not I go with what I want, not what my dietitian would want, cause ya know what, it’s my life and should be my choice and her choices are making me fatter, so fuck that.

I know the mere act of living involves dealing with death, and yes I know there is no getting around that, but oh man does it suck. And going back to the selfish thing, I could really use a bit of a break from the death part of life, even if just for a short amount of time, if only to stop me feeling like I am drowning and can’t get my head above water for anything beyond a quick desperate gasp of air.

drowning 2

Don’t Cave

I want chocolate.

Chocolate cake to be specific, but let’s be real here, I’m a binge eater (when I’m not a restrictive eater) and I’d happily take any and all chocolate I can get my hands on. And hey, if there isn’t chocolate around I’ll just take food, all the food, any food, in large quantities.

Holy fuck do I want to binge right now.

dontbingedontbingedontbingedontbingedontbingedontbingedontbingedontbinge

I do not need to binge. I ate more food today than on a normal day, but not more than a normal Sunday. Sundays are my weird day because of my schedule, I eat breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner. If not dinner then maybe a snack. The breakfast and lunch I eat don’t change (oatmeal for brekkie, salad with grilled chicken for lunch). Not exciting but it doesn’t send me in to a giant stress ball so I’m happy to stick with it. If I eat dinner that can change, and actually varies widely. Some weeks I go high protein, other weeks I lean towards carbs, and then other weeks I eat something stupid like ice cream. *rolls eyes* The weeks I like best are the weeks I don’t indulge in dinner.

This Sunday I had my breakfast and lunch and when I got home I made dinner. It took about two hours, no, three hours, to convince myself to make and eat something and when I did I made scrambled eggs that I split between two mini tortilla wraps, I had spread a bit of light cream cheese on the inside of the wraps. Oh, and because I am supposed to be eating from all the freakin food groups each time I eat I ate a yoghurt. Yes I know adding a yoghurt doesn’t get me all the food groups but it gets me closer to all of them and sometimes you have to take the little wins.

After I ate I wanted to immediately get up and eat more food, which sometimes happens when I eat so I know to ignore it because it’ll go away.

Tonight it didn’t go away.

All I want to do is eat. I can practically see myself eating something, ice cream, toast, cereal, pretty much anything. I can envision it all and I want it all. Lucky for me I don’t have many foods in my place so indulging in this binge craving would require I go to the store and that is soooooo not happening!

I’m hoping by saying that so firmly I don’t cave and go to the store…

I think part of my wanting to binge is because I hurt and when I’m in pain I either want to eat for comfort or I don’t want to eat cause the pain is making me feel sick. My hips have been seriously aching for days. Yesterday it was so bad I took pain meds at work because I couldn’t function. Today isn’t as bad so I’m hoping by tomorrow it will have faded away even more, but just because its faded doesn’t mean it isn’t still there and it makes me want comfort type things…like food and heating pads. I am indulging in the heating pad, but refusing the food.

Logically I know that eating won’t make the pain better, all it will do is make me feel nauseous because for sure I’ll over eat and it will make me feel guilty and hate myself. So emotional pain on top of physical pain, not a good thing to do to oneself.

Does it count as personal growth that I realize the binge won’t help and am trying to fight against it?

Something else I have noticed is that some days when I eat more than normal instead of feeling fuller for longer and not wanting food again as soon I sometimes feel hungrier sooner and feel like I need to eat more often. What’s with that? I feel that if I eat, especially if it is me eating dinner (like tonight) that should fill me up and I shouldn’t want to eat, or feel the need to eat, until at least mid-morning tomorrow but my stomach doesn’t seem to know that and gets all growly and demanding before the evening is even over.

So not cool. 😦

I’m gonna go have a shower then go to bed early, sleep through this hunger (and hip pain). Hopefully when I wake up tomorrow the urge to binge is over cause I gotta tell you, if it isn’t, I just may end up going to a bakery after work tomorrow and then I’ll really hate myself.

in the moment

Weight Gain

I have gained 1.5 pounds.

Don’t mock me, don’t say “it’s only 1.5 pounds”, don’t belittle that gain, please.

To me any gain is bad. A gain as large as 1.5 pounds is tantamount to failure, to derailment, to the beginning of a long lasting damage inducing binge cycle.

When I gain I go one of two ways. I either say I’ve screwed up can’t fix it now and go on a food bender that lasts anywhere from days to months and causes physical, emotional, and psychological damage. Or I go in to damage control mode and I clamp down on everything, I restrict like it is my sole focus in life (because it is), and I have nothing else on my mind but eating as little as humanly possible, while moving as much as physically possible, until I not only lose whatever I gained but lose more than that, so I have a bit of a safety net on the scale.

It is possible the weight gain is muscle, I have been back to my sports practices again, and I’ve been doing more manual labour type things at home, so maybe I gained a bit of muscle mass. But I don’t think so. I have been lax lately, having little nibbles of things I would normally never touch. Tasting foods friends bring me to try instead of saying I’ll try it later and then throwing it out. I’ve have a couple binges, some huge, some not so huge. And on top of that I’ve been vaguely trying, some of the time, to eat in way that would be more compliant to what my recovery program asks of me. My nutritionist has been on vacation so I sorta took that as an excuse to stop trying the stuff she asks me to do, but some days I kinda sorta tried, like the other day I ate three meals in one day! I mean sure, small meals, that combined didn’t get me to over 1000 calories, but still, eating that many times in one day is unheard of for me.

And that is what I blame the scale number on.

Not being more active. Not gaining muscle.

Nope. I blame it on weakened willpower. I blame it on my failure to control what goes in my mouth. I blame it on me and my inability to stay strong.

I blame me.

I am livid. Devastated. I punched a wall after I weighed myself. Then I almost cried, not from the pain of punching a wall (I am used to that), but from the pain I felt inside when I saw that number. The aching, jagged, pain, that was in my chest, radiating out to my whole body, letting me know how badly I had failed.

Is or is not my goal to lose weight?

Why yes, yes it is.

So why then have I been sabotaging myself by having nibbles of things here and there, having binges, eating more than one meal and one snack in a day?

Either I don’t want it badly enough, or I am weak and unable to resist the thing I want right now for the thing I ultimately want.

discipline

As soon as I left the bathroom after weighing myself I went in to food lock down mode.

Only very specific foods are allowed, and only in very specific combinations, and only in very specific quanities.

Today I ate 1/2 C oatmeal before work. At work I ate 1/3 C cubed beets and a turkey sandwich. That puts me at 548 calories for the day. On top of that I drank 6 cups of tea. Normally I would have had a diet coke but I ran out of time at work and my rule is the only thing I ingest after work is tea and water so alas, no diet coke for me.

I will get rid of this 1.5 pounds. And I will lose more than that to prove that I can. And I really hope I lose it before Wednesday, at the latest Thursday. I want to be more definitive about the “when” but my body has proven to me time and time again that it loses on it’s own schedule, all I can do is enforce the rules and wait till it does what I want.

I can’t gain weight, I can’t allow it, it is not a thing that is ok in my world and I will fight weight gain with every last inch of strength in my body.

I can do this. I can be strong.

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dont eat

The Brink of Tears

I’m fairly certain that eating two eggs (scrambled) on a hoagie bun is not an activity that is supposed to make a person almost cry.

And yet…

I feel like it has been almost an entire week of failure. I had my massive binge last Sunday, then days of physical recovery from that, then I ate half a pack of cookies a different day, then I ate some cookies and ice cream last night, then today I ate food after coming home from work.

In my world these are all massive failures, and having them all happen in one week, one right after another, is messing with my head.

I’ve got to get a handle on things over here or I’m going to end up back in the land of binges multiple times a week and I can’t handle that. I just…I just can’t.

Normally I don’t eat when I get home from work, when I work an evening shift I don’t get home until around ten at night. Once I am home I shower, do random things, make some tea, and by the time I might even be slightly thinking of food I’ve decided it is too late and I’m not going to bother. Doesn’t matter if I feel hungry or not, I don’t eat. I used to, and I found that was one of my most likely times to binge, so I cut that shit out. My body got used to the not eating after work thing and I stopped feeling hungry when I got home, something I count as a win!

But this past week I have really fucked things up. All those random extra high calorie foods has got my body thinking it wants more food and it has the nerve to send me hunger signals. Signals I am scared I might not be able to resist.

You might be thinking whats the big deal, if you feel hungry than eat. But I’m scared that I will eat things like ice cream, or other high calorie disastrous foods that I don’t let myself eat and that whatever I do eat I will eat in large quantities because heaven forbid I know and follow things like proper portion sizes.

Those, fyi, are totally valid fears.

So tonight I was in my post-work shower and couldn’t figure out what I was feeling. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling hungry or if I was feeling like I wanted to eat but for reasons other than hunger. Maybe I thought I wanted to eat but I was actually just bored, or thirsty, or upset about something…I should be careful because no point in eating if I am not actually hungry but being tricked into feeling hunger, right?

I knew that my brain kept thinking about ice cream so I promised myself that if I was going to eat it would be an egg, maybe an egg on toast (which is how I usually eat an egg), but at least the egg. It has protein. It is healthy. I am allowed one a day and I haven’t had an egg in a while. Plus, if I was legit hungry than an egg is an ok option for taking care of that hunger. If I am not actually hungry well, an egg won’t cause too much damage, least not as much as say, ice cream.

I ended up scrambling two eggs and putting them on a toasted hoagie bun. I don’t know what came over me. All those carbs. TWO eggs in one day. Ugh. Broke sooooo many rules with that meal, and yet, I ate it.

After I ate it and there was no turning back from what I did I sat there, watching a movie but hardly paying any attention to it, and I wanted to cry. I kept thinking about how last week I would never have even considered eating something once I was home from work, even if I had felt hungry I wouldn’t have eaten something, and today I caved because I thought I might be hungry. And not only did I cave I ate something that isn’t a safe meal (though I suppose it is a variation on one) and I ate a way larger portion than normal. This is on top of eating dinner at work aaaaaaaaand some oatmeal before going to work.

That is three freakin meals in one day. THREE!

Now do you see why I wanted to cry?

I feel like a failure. I have let myself down. I am so depressed and I don’t see the point anymore.

I look in the mirror and all I see is a fat, disgusting, woman. I have rolls of fat. My stomach sticks out so far it is heinous. Every part of me is swollen, and pudgy, and gross. I swear it wasn’t this bad last week. That binge started me on a free for all that has resulted in me looking noticeably fatter already. How is that possible? Why does it take so much hard work, so much dedication, so much sacrifice, to lose even one pound, but I can gain so much of that lost weight back in one stupid week.

The scale, urg, the scale. I didn’t step on it today but I stepped on it yesterday and it showed I was the same, but it has to be lying because I can see what I look like and I am definitely noticeably fatter. 😦

So I sat there, post egg on a hoagie bun, realizing that I have just pushed myself farther away from my goal by caving and eating.  Realizing that I was already noticeably fatter when I went to work today and now that I came home and ate some more food I am going to be even fatter tomorrow. Realizing that tomorrow I will step on the scale and will hate myself. Realizing that I am a failure. Realizing that I had gone so long without a binge, then I had one last Sunday and I am still dealing with the fallout from that binge. Realizing that what is the point of recovery when I’m still binge eating after all this time. Realizing that recovery may not be for everybody. Realizing I am freakin exhausted and I wish it was like it was before I realized I had a problem because I may have been engaging in just as many (or even more) bad for me behaviours but at least I was oblivious to just how much I was fucking up and could pretend what I did was normal.

This sucks. And I still want to cry. But I don’t do stuff like that so instead I’ll go try to sleep, at least when I am unconscious I am not aware of how much I hate myself.

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Not A Good Sign

I think I am failing at recovery. Not intentionally, but regardless of if it is on purpose or not, I think I am failing.

Fuck.

Today I felt like I spent the whole day at my recovery program’s offices. First I had a meeting with my nutritionist. Then I had Meal Support group. Then I had book club…which I was deluded into thinking would be fun because I like to read but is still somehow turned in to a freakin therapy session! *rolls eyes*

So yeah, ok, my meeting with my nutritionist had some unsettling sentences being said, by her, which makes me think I need to be less honest about how things are with me cause, um, yeah, not good.

She said she is going to talk with my case worker about me and some things I have said and about potentially a new approach. I feel like I am in trouble and being tattled on. 😦

She also said perhaps I need more support than what I am getting now in getting out of my eating habits and adopting new ones and I should consider inpatient treatment at the hospital.

What the fuck?

First off, I am not under weight, sure I am losing but I am nowhere near under weight so no fucken way do I need inpatient. Second, I have a life, a job, a cat, rent to pay, shit to do, not like I can magically disappear from the world and go inpatient. Thirdly, no. Just no. I hate doctors. I hate medical stuff. It is bad enough when I have to go get blood work done, or have some other reason where I need to see a doctor, but going and being in a hospital 24/7? Nuh-uh. Not happenin.

So yeah, not the most pleasant of convos.

She goes on vacation for three weeks so our plan (I say “our” but it is actually hers) is that while she is gone I will focus on breakfast. Usually I put off eating as long as possible when I wake up but now I am supposed to eat within 1.5 hours of waking up, and it is supposed to be a healthy balanced all the food groups kind of meal. *rolls eyes* Then, when she returns she is going to put me on a meal plan. It will apparently be tailored to my height, weight, age, etc. She won’t tell me how many calories it will be. She also says I am not to track or tally the calories myself. I am supposed to blindly believe what she gives me will be ok. Cuz ya know, blind leaps of faith are things I am oh so good at.

After meeting with her I had Meal Support, which is also led by her. You sit, with others, and eat a meal that has all the food groups. You are supposed to eat the food within 20-30 minutes and after eating everyone plays a game to keep us distracted. I am the slowest eater ever, and couldn’t finish in time. I started to put my sliced apple away because everyone else was done and I didn’t want to hold up the start of the game playing but I got called out on that and was told I had to keep eating the apple while we all played the game. In one sitting I ate a strawberry greek yoghurt, an apple, and half a wrap with 1/4 of a chicken breast, spinach, carrots, cabbage, and bbq sauce in it. That is a LOT of food. Way more than I usually eat in one sitting. When I was done I thought I was ok, the game had kept me distracted from noticing how full I felt, I didn’t have a breakdown or anything, all was ok. Then I left to go buy a tea before my next group and as soon as I wasn’t distracted all I could notice was how full my stomach felt. It was so incredibly unpleasant. Ugh. I think if I do that group again I’ll go for a walk (or a jog) instead of going to buy tea, help get rid of that feeling.

I guess that group wasn’t a complete fail since I managed to eat all that food, even if it did take me longer than the time limit. But it was probably a fail in that I didn’t eat again for a really long time, and when I did eat it was something small and not calorie dense because I felt I had to make up for eating all that food earlier…

Then book club. We are reading Daring Greatly by Brene Brown and I’m not really liking it. I am not a self-help book reader by any means, and this one is so, just, ugh. I don’t have words for it. I don’t connect with this book at all! In book club we talk about the chapters we were assigned to read that week, what if any connection we felt with what we had read etc, then we get a 5 minute break before we do some sort of project. This weeks project we were given a large piece of paper and told to draw a shape on it that symbolizes vulnerability to us. Then we went through a bunch of magazines to find pictures, or words, or whatever, of things that make us feel vulnerable and we had to put them inside the shape we drew. Then we had to find pictures, or words, or whatever, of things that allow us to be vulnerable and put those outside the shape. Then we had to describe the whole thing to the group. You may be laughing but you go try it, it’s harder than you think! Normally I really struggle with things like this but this week I managed to create something that seemed to impress the two people running the group. I think it was because I needed the distraction from how my stomach was feeling and the knowledge I ate all that food and the activity helped with that.

So yeah, that was my day in recovery and I think overall I didn’t do all that well. I got told inpatient might be the way to go and am being tattled on to my case worker. I ate a shit tonne of food. I didn’t handle eating all that food properly. Then I used the project in book club to distract myself from how I was feeling.

This recovery thing sure can suck, sigh.

too fat

Keeping Space

I think of myself as someone who is fairly self-sufficient. I don’t cry on my friend’s shoulders, I don’t go running to a family member when things are hard, I don’t lean on anyone other than myself when I am struggling. Personally, I think this is best. I think if you can’t handle things on your own than you are weak and should toughen up. It’s fine to talk a situation over with someone once you’ve dealt with it and can talk rationally and reasonably, but when in the throes of something big and emotional and messy, well, to me, alone is best.

Which makes the realization that I have come to depend on and even slightly look forward to my weekly group sessions a daunting one.

My recovery program is mostly group based sessions. They run on 8 week cycles. So for 8 weeks you are in a session about say, Building Self Compassion (that was my most recent one). You have once a week group meetings and you are limited to how many you are allowed to miss. On top of that weekly session there are three drop-in sessions you can pick from (meal support, meditation, weekly support). You don’t have to go to those drop-ins but you can, and they say the more you go to the better you do in your recovery. When the 8 week session is done you have a month or so where you only go to the drop-ins, and you are required to attend at least 2 in the month. Then a new 8 week session starts. This just keeps repeating.

So, every week, no matter where you are in the program, you should be attending at least one of the group sessions. At first I found this annoying, time consuming, even pointless. After a while I found it stressful, highly awkward for my schedule, and still pointless. Then at some point, some of the stuff I was being told started to sink in and I realized maybe it isn’t as pointless as I thought. I still found it occasionally annoying, and stressful, and it is legit time consuming and really messes with my schedule, but I try to look at it as one of those things that is important and therefore worthy of any interruptions it makes to my life.

I also sorta think of it as my punishment. If I wasn’t so fucked up I wouldn’t be having to deal with all this and I could be out enjoying life uninterrupted like my friends are.

My work shift was swapped for today so I had to miss the drop-in group support that is held on Mondays. My 8 week session just ended so I’ve just started the drop-ins which means I have no mandatory weekly group session this week. I don’t attend the other sessions, the meditation and food support groups, for reasons I won’t go in to here, which means until next week I won’t see anyone. Except I won’t see anyone next week either because the Monday is a stat holiday so they will be closed. So it’ll be three weeks before I see anyone and that is kinda freaking me out.

Before I’m pretty sure I would have looked at this as a boon, a freak scheduling mishap that brought about some alone time from the doctors and group sessions and delving in to why I think and feel things. But this week I actually tried to get my shift covered and was going to call in sick all so I could go to group this evening.

I’m kinda struggling and I need support and I wanted to go to group to get some support, to not feel so alone, but I couldn’t go and now I feel even more alone than before, and scared because I don’t know what I might do over the next two weeks, and confused because multiple things have happened over the past week I wanted to talk to someone about and now I won’t ever get to talk about those situations and I need advice on some stuff and need to know just how bad I screwed up when dealing with things but well, now I’ll never know because not like I can bring it up 2 weeks from now, it’ll all be old news.

I haven’t changed a lot of my ED behaviour, in fact, someone looking from the outside might say I have changed nothing. I am still eating my safe foods to the almost exclusion of everything else. I am still under eating daily, unless I have a binge day. I am still working out harder than I should. I am still feeling guilt and shame when I eat. But my thoughts have changed a little bit, honest! I sometimes think about eating other foods, I might not do it yet but before I wouldn’t have even thought it. I have eaten when normally I wouldn’t have because I felt hunger or because I realized it had been a long time since I had eaten so I probably should eat. Before I would have decided to keep fasting because why not? I’ve started drinking more water so I’m not always dehydrated. I may not eat the amount of food I am supposed to but I am eating more than I used to, well ok, not every day, but some days, and for me that is a big deal. And something huge for me, I gained a pound over the weekend and I didn’t go in to full blown panic and fast starting last night and continuing on until at least the end of day tomorrow. In fact, today I drank a ton of water, I ate two meals, and I had a snack! I’m working on not feeling guilty about all that food, not quite there yet but hey, I’m a work in progress.

My worry though, is I have things that happened that raised questions, questions I need answers to, and I have no one to answer them. I feel like without those answers I can’t properly move forward because what if I am doing something wrong, what if I made the wrong choice and continue to make wrong choices from here on out, what if I am fucking this up.

I don’t even know what the “what” I might be fucking up is. Is it my weight loss, my recovery, my eating disorder…I just don’t know…

I think I could schedule a one-on-one with my case manager but I don’t know for sure, and even if I could she has limited time and people with bigger problems than mine to deal with so I don’t want to bother her. Maybe I could email her…that’s something to look in to…

This post did not end up where I intended it to go lol What I was planning on writing was why the enforced separation from my group sessions might actually be a good thing for me because I have obviously become too reliant on them when dealing with stuff. I won’t be in this program forever, eventually I won’t have access to these people and groups, and I need to keep that in mind. I need to remember when I am low or struggling that in the end the one I should depend on is me, not the counselors or doctors or others in group because one day I’ll be out of the program and on my own anyways and it is important to be strong so I don’t have trouble with that transition.

Right now I am wavering with that thought though, as you might have guessed lol I think, given two weeks away from all the groups that thought will become stronger and I’ll end up taking a couple steps back recovery wise which would suck since the steps forward I have taken are so small and so few. But if I do contact my case manager what am I supposed to say? I think I’m becoming a wimp who needs someone to talk to, will you be that person for me this week? That is so not ever gonna happen.

bored