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TRANSITION WEEK

It’s been a wild ride. My last two days at the clinic were focused on discussing healthy ways of managing my out of control anxiety issues. I had one day of leave cancelled altogether (Sunday) as I couldn’t be trusted not to harm myself. I didn’t even trust myself. The next day was escorted leave and Tuesday – my final day as it turned out – back to full unescorted pre-discharge phase.

WEEK FOUR

Today I am afraid of recovery. I’ve been in this place before – where I’ve felt the beginnings of change and then become overwhelmed with the fear of that change and what it might herald. so I rush back to the safe and familiar.

RESILIENCE

So in contrast to my previous post on resilience, I now concede that in some areas of my life I can become and behave in an extremely resilient manner. There are areas I need to work on, but for now I’m surrounded by professionals who will gladly work with me towards those goals.

WEEK TWO

Same old, same old. Neither better nor worse. I feel my depression has sunk pretty low and I spent a lot of today mapping out “exit” strategies. But I also communicated this with the registrar and have requested to have my dose of pristiq increased. She’s also modified my leave to “escorted” which is fine by me.

WEEK ONE

A friend of mine has encouraged me to share my private journals of inpatient. I hope it’s not triggering for anyone. It’s deeply personal. And I’ve made every effort to remove identifying information of the clinic, staff and patients. It’s a long read! But this is what life is like.

DAY 12

It’s a wild ride as an inpatient at a psychiatric facility. I can’t honestly say I’d recommend it. But then sometimes we have to do necessary things in life that aren’t necessarily enjoyable. I didn’t traipse all the way here for fun. I left behind all that was comfortable and familiar, to learn uncomfortable, unfamiliar ways of managing my emotional and eating behaviours. At this stage I am far from cured.

AND IT’S TIME

In 12 hours, I’m heading off to the clinic. I think I know what to expect, but I also know I have no idea. Does that sound confusing? Of course it does. Life is confusing. Whatever preconceptions and expectations I’ve managed to construct for myself over the past few weeks, tomorrow will be the day where it all comes to pass and reality sets in.

MELANCHOLY

I’m consumed with sadness today. I know it’s the stupid drug, but fuck it’s annoying. On the upside, the psychiatrist rang and said to wean myself off and I’m being admitted into the inpatient eating disorder unit instead. It’s a strange world where that seems like a good thing – right?

WELCOME TO THE NEW YEAR

I used to be gung ho about making New Years’ resolutions – now I know better. I am old and wise. But that is not to say this is not a good time to reflect on the year that has been and put behind me those moments I never wish to see again. We all have a few of those – of that I am quite sure. And to look ahead to new beginnings for the year ahead and make plans for both the would-be hedonist who loves to live it up whenever she has the opportunity, and the practical lass who knows we all have responsibilities and that – occasionally – bills must be paid.

FEED ME

We all have physical hunger and we all need to feed it. The body needs nourishment in order to function. Feed it badly, it will treat you badly. Feed it well and you’re on the road to good health. If you’ve nourished your body regularly over the years, you experience appropriate hunger cues. Haven’t eaten? Your belly will grumble. Overeaten? You’ll feel uncomfortable – and stop eating.

WHERE TO NOW?

The trouble with falling down a big pit is once you get back out, the rest of the world moved on and you’re still thinking about the pit. Don’t get me wrong – I’m happy to be out of that dark place! But I’ve forgotten how to live in the light.

A STEP FORWARD

I’ve been farting around in recovery land for years now – and I’m still lost. I know I’ve made progress – and this is a jolly good thing – but change is minimal when it comes to the movement of fork to lips. My progress is more in emotional regulation than eating behaviours.

THAT FINE LINE BETWEEN BRAVERY & STUPIDITY

I keep receiving lovely messages of support for my blog posts – thank you 🙂 I am very touched by every message, and moreso with the knowledge my innermost waffle is read and appreciated by others. It really is very comforting. I also keep receiving lovely messages saying how brave I am for sharing so openly and honestly. For revealing so many of my ugly truths and personal struggles. Again – I thank you all for the support, but I’m also left wondering, am I doing the right thing?