Yeah so um, maybe I was lying the other night when I wrote things are fine. I didn’t mean to lie, I felt that at the time, but perhaps, possibly, just maaaaaybe that was me blocking that I wasn’t fine and doing my whole hiding behind a mask thing.
The only reason I say that is because I am sitting here, with a distended abdominal area, feeling super sick, after having a binge so large I am amazed my stomach didn’t literally explode. I haven’t had a binge this big in ages. It lasted hours. I couldn’t stop. The best I could do to make it not as bad as it could have been was at the last minute when driving home I cut across traffic so I could turn in to my neighbourhood instead of continuing on to the store where I had planned to buy allllllll the food.
Not like that stopped the binge though, I do have food in my place after all. I’m thinking I should rethink that, but that is something to ponder on a day when I’m not bloated, and a billion pounds heavier, and sick feeling, thanks to eating hours worth of food.
I’m not completely sure why it happened.
I had work, then group, then my team practice, then I got home and ate so much I should be rolling places not walking.
I didn’t say much in group, I had something I sort of but not really wanted to talk about. I might have brought it up but being there made me so sad I just wanted to disappear, not engage in the convo. I’m really struggling with the loss of my one-on-one counsellor. Last week was my first week without our session, this was the first group where he wasn’t there. Tonight it felt like there was this big void where he should be, but isn’t. Even though he was replaced by someone I like, I wish she would leave again if the trade off was getting him back. I know that is stupid. She has important stuff to teach and share and all that, hell, she is my case worker so she sorta has to be there for me to progress through the program. Its just I want him back.
While I was sitting in group someone said something, I wish I could remember what, and it got me thinking I might share, so I started thinking of how I would start my talking and I realize my opening sentence would have no meaning to anyone except him. But he’s gone. So no one would get the significance of what I was saying, so I’d have to explain in more detail what was going on, and I wasn’t up for that. That realization made me feel so alone. No one there just gets me, and I didn’t really realize how much I liked having someone who understood me, until I had him for a short time and he left and I now feel the gap in my recovery support system of where he was.
It is like a chair. Has 4 legs. In theory they are all equally supporting the chair but maybe one is taking the brunt of the weight. Then that one leg is taken away and the chair falls because it doesn’t have enough support.
I’m the chair, he was that one leg.
I am in this place of not really giving a fuck about recovery. Am I happy I binged tonight? No, definitely not. Am I unhappy about it because it affects my recovery journey? Only in the sense that I don’t want to get fatter and would much rather be restricting. As long as this binge doesn’t turn in to an often thing and I can get back to restricting tomorrow, which shouldn’t be a problem, then all is good. At least by my standards.
Maybe not everyone is meant to recover. I mean, if losing one person from my recovery journey affects me so much, maybe it is better to just not take this journey and instead figure out a way to deal with my disorder in a functional way. Like how there are functioning pot heads, and functioning alcoholics. Maybe I can be like that, only with restricting.
It’s something to ponder…