Tag Archives: group therapy

A Bad Couple Days

Ok so actually it is more like a bad 4 or 5 days, but that title doesn’t sound as good.

I’ve been sad for days. Sad to the point that I went to work and felt like I was barely managing to get out of there with enough energy to get home and hide from the world. I was existing at the level of just enough to not get fired or royally fuck up my world level – nothing extra.

This happens now and then, usually I hermit and after whatever length of time it takes to get through it is over I slowly emerge and try to fix all the damage I did to my world when I was too sad to give a fuck.

Real winner of a person over here I tell ya! 😉

This past Monday it was getting to a level where I was having trouble hiding it, unfortunately I had two groups that day. sigh. Nothing like trying to not show how sad you are when you’re in a group that is designed to get through to your emotions.

The first group is two hours and when it is done for the day you have to fill out this form that gives a quick snapshot of how you are doing that day and for the previous week. It asks things like if you’ve been engaging in your ed behaviours and if so how much, and have you had suicidal thoughts, what is a goal you have for the coming week, things like that.

Well, I put for my goal I was going to work on getting up more slowly from a seated position because I had noticed that when I stand I am getting dizzy. Now don’t go freaking out at me, I don’t mean dizzy like I’m gonna fall over and crack my head open, just kinda woooo everything is moving but I brace against something and I’m all good in 30 seconds or so. No biggy.

Apparently I shouldn’t have written that because after the second group one of the counsellors came up to me and mentioned the other counsellor (who had been co-running the first group) had read my form and was worried and he wanted to check with me that I was ok.

What the hell am I supposed to say if someone is looking you in the eyes and asking if you’re ok? Of course I said I was fine, brushed it off, said I wasn’t sure why it was happening but it is no biggy. He suggested I see I doctor. I told him I saw her two weeks ago and no way was I going back again so soon. He also kept saying he wanted me to make sure I took care of myself.

What does that mean?

I was so confused, but too sad to bother with asking, but it has been confusing me ever since.

Take care of myself?

Of course I take care of myself, I live alone, if I don’t take care of myself no one else will.

I’m trying to puzzle it out and I’m wondering if he meant don’t engage in any self-harm behaviours? Or maybe he meant don’t engage in eating disorder behaviours?…Which seems a large request to be making…or maybe he meant to try to nudge me in to changing my mind and go to the doctor after all?

I dunno.

I saw him today for one-on-one and meant to ask him but got distracted by our convo. He mentioned something that has been bugging me since our one-on-one (I swear this man has the ability to say things that leave me pondering for days lol). At that second group a diagram was drawn and everyone was all “oh I get that, I really connect with that, I never really understood that until now” where as I was all “what the fuck?” So, after everyone was done with their glowing remarks and I felt like I was gonna burst in to tears because the diagram just made me even more sad I spoke up and said:

“this picture makes me sad”

Five little words.

I never say if I am sad. Hell, I don’t say if I am any emotion but especially not sad!

And yet, those words came out of my mouth, because apparently I am slowly learning how to share and that evening I couldn’t keep my emotions to myself. They felt like they were brimming over, about to burst out, and it was either say something or explode.

So I said the picture makes me sad, and explained why.

And people listened. One of the other people in group said how they hadn’t looked at it that way (my way) but she could see why I interpret the picture that way and feel sad as a result. I just this moment realized she validated my emotions…I don’t know that anybody has done that before…huh…

But ok, not the point!

So that all happened. Then today in the one-on-one my counsellor said that the other counsellor that was there Monday said that my saying I was sad, and sharing, was the first time she felt I was ever truthful about what I am feeling. It is the first time since her and I have been in groups together that I really shared my true emotion.

I want to get offended by that, or mad, or something, but I can’t, because I don’t easily share what I am feeling. Not to people I know really well, especially not to people I don’t really know, or don’t know at all. She is new to me. She just appeared one week, I guess she was away for a while, others knew her, but to me she was just a new face that seemed to feel she knew how everything worked and ran and like she had some right to be there asking me questions, replacing the counsellors I had finally gotten used to over the months I have been there.

Why would she think I would just boom! open up to her, or around her, when I don’t know her?

So now I have lots of things to ruminate on…what I spoke with my counsellor about today, the fact that I actually shared a real time emotion in group, trying to figure out what he meant about taking care of myself, the fact that this new to me counsellor is talking about me to the other counsellor…sigh…

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A Tad Worried

I shouldn’t be writing this, I should be showering and then going to bed. I work early and right after work I have group for two hours, then an hour break, then another group. sigh. By the end of the day I’m tired and it is vital I start the day with as much sleep as possible. Not that I sleep well…but that’s a whole ‘nother story! lol

In my family there is a loooooong history of cancer. Both my parents, both my Grandmothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, sometimes it seems like everyone. Except for the relatives that chose to not undergo treatment, most of them survived. I actually grew up thinking of cancer as a thing you get, you get medicine, you get better…like a cold or something. *rolls eyes*

Because of this, and because I am super pale, a natural ginger, and sunburn in approximately 5 minutes of direct sunlight, oh and genetics, I always knew one day I’d get cancer. Hell, after I sunburned my shoulders when I was in grade 5 my mom lectured me the entire time she was putting cream on my shoulders about how I was going to get cancer and die. I was so upset! I thought she meant right that minute I was going to get cancer, and I was upset not because I didn’t want to die but because I had made her mad and I didn’t want to die with her mad at me…oh the weirdness of a child’s brain lol

So I’ve always taken a relaxed attitude about the whole thing.

Buuuuut…last month I noticed a thing on my back. I’m not sure how to describe it exactly. It is brown, it is misshapen, it looks exactly like the things that get cut out of my mother’s back because they could be her cancer returning.

Fuck.

I ignored it for a while. Subtly pumped my mother for info about her cancer and treatment and her back things and what I learned wasn’t all that comforting.

So I did what I do best and I continued to ignore it.

I took a look at it in the mirror last Thursday night after I’d showered and realized it had gotten bigger, and more oddly shaped.

Fuck.

Friday between jobs I called my doctor and scheduled an appointment to have it looked at. The earliest I could get was this coming Tuesday, which is fine, not like I wanted to go in asap.

I hate doctors. I hate going to doctors. I hate talking to doctors. I hate doctors looking at me, poking and prodding me, sending me for tests, asking me questions. I feel like I am taking up too much space when in the exam room, too much time, I am in the way and should be super fast so someone else can come in. I feel like any question I have is stupid, any concern I want to raise a waste of time. I don’t want to be there. I also hate being touched. I can deal with being looked at when it is say, the doc looking at my throat, or in my ears, something like that. But when they get all “lift your shirt” I want to panic and run out the room.

Because of all this I rarely go to the doctor. It used to be a lot if I went once a year, I suckily go more often because part of my treatment program requirements is that I go once a month. I didn’t know that in the beginning so I never went, then I got busted, so I was going monthly for a while, I have subtly scaled back on that though.

Which makes it all the more annoying that I am willingly going on Tuesday.

Since I made the appointment my stomach hurts. I am nervous, scared a bit, just super uncomfie about the whole thing and I oh so badly want to cancel and pretend I don’t know this thing is growing larger on my back, and that there is a second one near my armpit.

Fuck.

I have two groups Monday. The first is a scheduled one that is part of my recovery about feelings. I don’t think it is the kind of group you bring something like this up in. The second group is drop-in and it is the type of group you can bring anything up in. But I don’t know if I want to bring it up. It isn’t like talking about it will make me feel better and I don’t wanna risk being pulled aside after group is over and talked to one-on-one by the docs running the group. Besides, it is probably me being a crazy person and nothing will come of it and if I say something and nothing comes of it then people will think I am a hypochondriac and never take me seriously again. But I don’t know how to handle the stress and worry.

I suppose I’ll handle it how I have been handling it since Friday, which is restricting. I can justify restricting because my tummy is so topsy turvey it doesn’t want food and when I do eat it hurts. Like how it hurt when I had ulcers, only I think this is a reaction to stress, not an ulcer forming.

Man, I hope it isn’t an ulcer forming, those suck.

I really should sleep, I’m so tired, but I have bad dreams and unsettled sleep, so not like sleeping will really help all that much.

Mostly, I think I just have to say the words out loud, and typing them here is like saying them out loud, sorta…

What if I have cancer?

There. I wrote it.

Deep breathe.

It’ll be fine. I’m worrying over nothing. The doc probably won’t even take a biopsy. She’ll take one quick glance, say I’m fine, and send me on my way.

That is my prediction for Tuesday afternoon. Let’s hope it comes true!

Intrusive Thoughts

I’ve heard a lot in recovery about this whole “ed voice” and “intrusive thoughts” deal. Basically, there is your voice, and there is the eating disorder voice, your voice gets drowned out a lot by the eating disorder voice. The eating disorder voice is pretending to be your friend, pretending to want what is best for you but it is actually telling you to do things that are bad for you, it is hurting you.

When you think about engaging in any of your eating disorder habits, that is your eating disorder voice. When you have negative self-talk, or you hurt yourself, or you resist getting healthier, that is also your eating disorder voice.

Some people in group have described their eating disorder voice in such a way that it sounds as if they legit have a second voice in their head, a monster scary voice, that orders them around and they either succumb to the voice’s demands or they fight back.

I have never really understood this idea because I don’t have some scary monster eating disorder voice yelling at me to do or not do things. I just have my own thoughts, my own ideas, my own thinking in my head, and that is what guides my choices.

Because of this I often wonder if I really do have an eating disorder, I mean, how can I have one for real if I don’t have this scary voice in my head, right?

For the last couple weeks I have made a ground meat, mixed veg, pasta, mix, all combined with a tomato pasta sauce. It is boring as fuck to eat, but it does take away the decision on what to eat if I am supposed to be eating but am tired, or can’t make a decision, or just plain don’t know what to do. If I top it with a bit of shredded cheese it becomes a miracle meal in that it contains all 4 food groups. It is something my dietitian approves of, even if I hate eating it because of the pasta, and the bland taste…I suck at cooking, sigh.

So I have a tupperware container filled with this meal in my fridge, just waiting to be eaten.

Mondays after work I usually have enough time to go home, chill for a bit, have a cup of tea, then head out to a weekly drop-in group. A couple Mondays ago I had to stay late at work and didn’t have nearly as much time. On my drive home I was calculating how much time I would have at home before having to leave again to get to group and I remember thinking I had the perfect reason to not eat before going, because there wasn’t enough time to make anything. Then out of nowhere I thought “good thing I have that pasta meat dish I made, I have enough time to warm up some, eat, and still get to group”.

Where the fuck did that come from?? I don’t think things like that. If anything, I think the opposite, I think “hey, time is tight, perfect reason to not eat!” and I am glad I have a justifiable reason to skip eating. A reason that I can use as a defense if anybody asks me what I ate, or if I ate.

So it would appear that if I have intrusive thoughts they come in the style of thoughts encouraging me to eat.

That is so messed up.

Next thing you know I’m going to have a random thought to throw out my diet pills, or not binge, or not burn myself.

I don’t know what, if anything, having this intrusive thought means. Does it mean I am getting better? Does it mean all the thoughts I feel are just me are actually my eating disorder and this one random healthier thought is the real me breaking through? Is it just a fluke thing that will never happen again?

I dunno. And I don’t know how to figure it out. I just know it freaked me out and has left me wondering, and ruminating, and dissecting, what happened ever since.

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