And So It Goes...

I left hospital on Friday after my assessment with the eating disorders team. I don't know yet what treatment they will offer me, or whether or not I have the motivation/energy to keep pushing through with treatment and trying to make a life here in London. I am finding it so difficult to function on a day-to-day basis, that it's impossible to think further down the line than the next few minutes/hours.

I, rather impulsively, booked a trip to New York as soon as I arrived at my friend's house. I leave in less than 72 hours. I am too caught up in depression and anxiety to feel anything but dread about this. I am GLAD that I am getting a break. It's been a long time since I have gone to New York for a "holiday" and if I can manage to relax, it will no doubt do me the world of good. So far my thoughts are swinging wildly between trying to land a job whilst I am there and staying, seeking treatment there, coming back and moving back to Scotland, coming back and engaging in treatment in London, then the back-up plan of just calling it quits and repeating the recent incident. I don't know what I want right now, never mind the steps involved to get there.

At least in New York I will feel safe, be spending time with family and friends and not surrounded by the temptations and negativity pulsing through my veins right now.

My plan is to have no plan- see if going with the flow for a week helps. Danger of that is that I then romanticise New York. Everything is good there. I don't worry about the same things, I have family and social support. I feel safe, loved. Not like the UK where I have support out of NHS guidelines dictating "duty of care", or Edinburgh where I don't even have that.

I feel like I do nothing but whine and complain in this blog. I originally started it as a journal of my recovery, my progress, my unfolding LIFE. Instead it logs my peaks and falls, my slow declines, my rapid mood swings and impulsive choices.

I have more coping skills than I let myself use. I honestly forget they are there in those moments of "oh my god!!!!!" then regret it once I am face with the consequences of my actions. I'm not used to consequences anymore...in the US, my actions had repercussions which I ignored (didn't like what the doctor said? pfft...go to a different doctor) and in Scotland, there were no consequences ("you want to lose xlbs/take x pills/do xyz...go ahead!") There is a part of me that KNOWS, full well, that any consequences are felt most harshly by ME. I hurt myself, impact MY life when I do these things, yet I can justify it to myself time and time again, because honestly? I don't care enough about *me* to stop most of the time.

Food For Thought

I wish I had something more to say than just, "I'm still around". I feel really empty at the moment and have little to say at all, not just in the world of blogging. Everything feels strangely quiet- an eerie kind of silence which usually means trouble is brewing.

I'm not doing well, but there isn't any thoughts/feelings behind it. I'm falling into the same old patterns, not because I am highly driven to do so, merely that I lack the drive NOT to do so. It's getting old, but it's a default mode that I revert back to when I have nothing else tangible to cling to.

I know that the people around me now have long since given up. It's hard to stay focused on a "recovery" that you are constantly told will never happen.

"...because you don't want it"
"...because if you DID want it, you would have done it by now"
"...because you have tried every kind of treatment and it hasn't helped"
"...because you are too wrapped up in anorexia"
"...because this has gone on too long"
"...because the sky is blue/it's a Thursday/I just painted my nails"

None of this really means anything. I know the statistics aren't in my favour. I know what treatment I've tried. I know that a lot of the "treatment" has done more harm than good, I know that there is more that I could be doing to move forwards. I know this is frustrating for you too. I know, I know, I know.

I also know that things could be worse. A lot worse. They have been before, and I figure that staying relatively sane is a balancing act that very few people seem to understand- people that knew me 10 years ago would not recognise the person I am today. People who know me now would not identify with the 15 year old me. Things HAVE changed. Things aren't all rays of sunshine right now, but they are a hell of a lot more stable and "livable" than the world I had created for myself back then. Maybe it's the natural process of maturing. Maybe something in the treatment I have had has sunk in. Maybe it's just all part of the healing process. Maybe I am looking too deep into things and should stop brushing off how the "here and now" is just because it could be worse. It could always be worse. I guess focusing on the "it COULD be worse" part shuns me of taking responsibility for the present situation.

Food for thought.

Ha ha.

There's Always Tomorrow

I'm having a really hard time right now with relaxing. The concept is foreign to me- I don't know HOW to relax. I feel this overwhelming sense of urgency to be constantly productive, constantly achieving *something*, constantly doing something/anything that is going to get me somewhere in life. I don't know how to just kick back, relax and enjoy life for what it is. My mind is constantly whirring- where I should be, what I should be doing, how next to make some grand leap from where I am to where I want to be.

I feel like I am missing out.

I see people sitting in Starbucks, absorbed in a book, or just gazing out the window. I get my coffee "to go" and run through the streets as if I actually have to be somewhere oh-so-important, because to sit down and just relax in the moment terrifies me. What if I miss out on some golden opportunity? What if people think I am lazy? What if I run late on my self-imposed schedule?

SO WHAT? Does it really matter what other people think? Does it really matter if I get home at 4:15 instead of exactly 4:00pm? Does it really matter if I DON'T respond to that email as soon as it lands in my inbox?

I need to figure out a way to have more balance and relaxation time. I'm not working/studying at the moment and the guilt that comes with that is overwhelming. Truth is, I've been signed off sick. I SHOULD be resting more. I SHOULD be taking things slower and letting myself heal. Why is it so hard? Because I'm scared. I'm scared to stop because my thoughts start to consume me. I'm scared of what my family will think/say. I'm scared of letting people down. I'm scared of being perceived as lazy, self-indulgent, useless. I'm scared that if I 'stop', I'll never 'start' again. I'm scared to be by myself in case...in case of 'what' I don't know. Just scared to stop and think and feel and just let things wash over me...scared of the complacency that might bring, even if it isn't necessarily a bad thing to bring a little more apathy into my world.

Nothing is so important that it's worth getting sick over. Nothing (in my life, at this point) is so urgent that it can't wait an hour or two. The people that may or may not judge me have their own issues, and I need to figure out what's right for me. When it's okay to sit down and watch TV for an hour. When it's okay to skip my morning run because it's pouring or just because I don't feel like it. When it's okay to not go to 6 different grocery stores and just make do with what is available in the nearest one. When it's okay to close down my laptop for the day and relax knowing I'll deal with the rest of my emails tomorrow.

There's always tomorrow.

Most stuff can wait.