So it’s been a while since I posted. I have so much to say that I have struggled to order anything that made any sense! So here goes:
Since my last post I’ve started on sertraline. I’ve always had this strong feeling about not taking tablets, but when I’ve started imagining my own death and thinking about ways one could die, I figured maybe the drugs are worth a shot. A bit up and down, but sometimes I am definitely feeling their positive effect.
I’m also starting to make some real progress with engaging with therapy. The thought of being weighed terrifies me so much that I’ve been discharged from treatment for lack of compliance in the past. Maybe it’s the drugs; maybe it’s me, but I’m suddenly understanding why they want me to have regular weight checks.
My cbt is taking place through the uk IAPT service. I know that usually it would just be an ed service, but because of my depression and anxiety, one of the iapt therapists has decided to see me and use an eating disorder formulation ( with additions for other issues). She is a lovely lady and I feel totally comfortable in being honest with her. I like that she will always be honest with me too – like if there’s an aspect of eating disorders that she is not 100% sure about. Most of the time though, I feel like she is helping me map my way through my thinking, and I’ve never felt so clear about how and why and when I do and think as I do.
Obviously, it is early days, and I self harmed two days ago, BUT I am beginning to have hope that I can change. Wow. That doesn’t even sound like me talking!
I am at a really tough place in my illness at the moment. I spend time (invountarily) thinking about self harm, calories, food, weight, my worth, my insecurity, my anxiety, and whether I’d be better off dead.
After beginning to think things like “why don’t I just walk into this road and die,” I got prescribed antidepressants. So far, nothing is particularly different, as they take a while to kick in.
In a CBT session today I had to talk about negative experiences I had when growing up. Of course, these included things like a period of having multiple panic attacks a day, or my lowest/ highest weights, when I first self harmed etc. The therapist said it sounded as though I wasn’t at my worst in some ways at the present moment.
I am more mature. When I panic now, I know what a panic attack is, as opposed to the early days in my anxiety when I had no clue what was happening to me. And in terms of my ed, everything is habitual. Sure, it is stressful. but those around me know me as the “me” I am WITH my ed, which makes me appear more normal that I actually am.
I am not better. I am in a horrendous mind frame. I am sick of wasting my life. I am so happy to be pursuing my dream career, but I am speechlessly unhappy with the way that my feeling and emotions are tainting that. I constantly think that I need to be in a mental unit. I can’t live my life like this.
Now, I know that most teenagers/ students enjoy staying up late and being rowdy, but I don’t.
Before I had any mental issues, I did love staying up late with my friends… ON WEEKENDS. I don’t know how anybody can stay up pissing about, then get up at 6 am and dance for 7 hours the next day. I personally have enough trouble falling asleep as it is, without being woken up.
Since moving here, I have been the unfortunate victim of many crappy nights sleep. Apparently, it is acceptable to be utterly inconsiderate. If you want people round, you just bring them without asking (at any time of night it seems).
I get that my housemates don’t understand how much my sleep is affected by my problems, but they all know that I do have my struggles at the moment, and so you would have thought they would assume that a bit of peace and quiet might be helpful to me… but no.
It is so infuriating that nobody cares. I feel worthless enough, without them blatantly doing things that make it clear as day that they don’t give a shit about what I feel like. But I don’t like being the “bad guy” in a situation, so I guess I will continue to pace my room until the fury subsides.
Tomorrow might just kill me. I’m so tired and sick of this.