Times They Are A-Changing...

I used to bury myself in every eating disorders memoir I could get my hands on. Partly because I could relate to so much of what was written, partly to trigger myself and partly hunting for some sort of answers/resolution to my own struggles. Over the last few years, my concentration/memory have been affected badly and I had pretty much stopped reading altogether. I've always enjoyed losing myself in books and this has been something I've been trying to get back into lately. I'm mostly reading light-hearted novels, setting small targets of reading for 20-30 minutes a day of funny/easy-to-read 'chic lit'.

On Saturday, a book I had pre-ordered a while ago arrived. It was an autobiography of a girl I met in treatment when I was 16. I felt obligated to buy it, having gotten to know her fairly well but wasn't sure if I wanted to read it and risk getting triggered right now. Curiosity got the better of me and I sat down on Saturday night and started reading. The book is pretty graphic and descriptive. There is a lot of mentions of numbers, tricks, etc...the kind of thing my brain used to store up as ammunition and set the wheels in motion for things I hadn't tried/stuff I should be doing that I'm not right now.

I read the whole book in less than 24 hours. It didn't trigger me. It didn't make me feel guilty or worthless. It didn't give me ideas about how to carry on down some path of self-destruction or make me feel differently about myself, my body or my meals.

I felt sad. I felt her pain, her torment, her anger, her internal fight. I wanted to reach out to her and hold her hand. I wanted to help her- to go back to the period we spent together in hospital and talk to her, listen to her, validate her. I wanted to tell her to "hold on"- to paint a picture for her of what her life could be like (IS like) this many years on. I didn't, for one second, want to be her. I wasn't jealous of the weights she mentioned or the events that occurred. I didn't feel ANYTHING except sheer hatred for this disease and a deep sadness for what she went through.

I think this is the first time ever where I've felt nothing more than sadness reading about someone's struggle with this disease. There has always been this part of me that is insanely jealous- the sympathy and concern has always been there, but I've always felt, on some level, envious and triggered hearing other people talk about how their disorder has affected them/their lives. It makes me crave the safety and security of hospital- of being sheltered from the world, of having nothing more expected of me than to eat my grilled cheese sandwich and recite affirmations. It makes me miss the numbness, the feeling that nothing matters except weight. It makes me yearn for the days when I had nothing to think about except what excuse to give to get out of eating dinner. It makes me long for the times when I could stay curled up in bed and not have to take any responsibility for my life- I didn't have to figure out things like work, bills, rent...all that mattered was numbers and what I would and wouldn't eat.

I just wanted to share this because I think it's a sure sign that my attitude is really starting to shift. I don't *see* the appeal of anorexia anymore, on any level. Up until now, there has been one side of me that has clung to the hope/belief that anorexia has some sort of purpose/meaning/answer for me and this is the first time where that 'pull' seems to have faded into nothingness.


I don't want that life anymore.

Looking Through Different Eyes

Yesterday's anxiety spiralled into a frenzy last night. I knew I should just call it a night and go to bed, but I stayed awake, curled up on the sofa writing in my "meal planner" book, throwing out food, sticking abusive notes to myself all over my apartment. I woke up this morning feeling like a different person- went to the fridge to get my overnight muesli, only to remember that in last night's rampage, I had covered the entire thing with washing-up liquid.

I walked around slowly, pulling down the notes, cleaning up and starting my week afresh.

I spent a lot of time last night looking at blog entries from a year ago when I was in New York. I noted two things:-

1. This time last year, I was writing very similar posts: the same frustrations about not being able to let go of my eating disorder and move forward once and for all- recognising baby steps, but not really making any significant changes
2. I WAS happier overall being in New York, but I wrote a lot about the anxiety and depression I was dealing with, the loneliness, rejection, stress about finding/keeping a job, health care, etc. It wasn't all as happy and wonderful as I continue to picture it to be.

So where does that leave things? I don't want to be writing the same posts a year from now. I thought I would want to be living in New York, but having re-read how I really felt/managed whilst I was there, I'm not so sure.

I am so frustrated right now- I feel like I have no goals in mind, nothing to aim for and am just drifting along for no real reason. That was the thinking behind last night's 'episode'- I figured that if I can't be normal/recovered/living a "real" life, then why even bother trying to fight this at all?..

I AM feeling better this morning. Not because I woke up having discovered my true calling in life and suddenly have goals/purpose/passions to pursue, but because I need to believe that somehow, sometime this will get easier. It's not always going to be like this- though part of my brain is screaming as I write this that things really AREN'T going to change dramatically. But that is such a defeatist attitude, such a cop-out. As long as I am around, I have a chance to change things- I guess although I am having a lot of the same thoughts as last night, instead of using it to fall head-first back into heavy ED behaviours, I'm trying to use it to propel me forward...

Before I forget, head on over to Meg's site to read a great post about living life to the fullest!

***********

With today's breakfast sabotaged, I kind of panicked. I didn't want to eat the breakfast I planned last night when I was in such an emotional state, so scrounged around to make up my usual calorie quota with what was lying around...

Bran flakes with Fage honey twin pot and raisins. Where would I be without Fage?! I actually found this sickeningly sweet- I love honey, but there was a LOT of it in this yogurt. I think I'll stick to the cheesecake fruit twin pots.

And BIG NEWS! My oven is FIXED! Of course, I had to test it out...

I made a sauce for the kidney beans using melted laughing cow cheese, pesto and mushrooms. With baked sweet potato half-moons. It's all about the ha-hee-hey-ho sweet po-ta-to... I forgot how much I love pesto- I find it a bit strong by itself, but combined with the creamy laughing cow cheese was delicious. This is the closest thing I have come to "cooking" in a really long time- and definitely a first time for me "experimenting" and making up some sort of recipe as I went along. Loved it :)

Question: I finally found an all natural non-soy protein powder (it's pea protein). Stellar nutritional stats, but it's unflavoured. I don't have a blender so smoothies are out- anyone got ideas for how to use it? I am wary about buying it if it's going to be gross, but open to suggestions for jazzing it up!

Growing Up

As much as I want the FREEDOM I talked about in yesterday's post, there is obviously something holding me back. I don't know quite what it is that makes it so difficult to give up my eating disorder, as much as I want to, but there must be SOME kind of pay-off to being sick.

Perhaps it's partly habit- in terms of eating, exercise, food choices, etc. I have been stuck in patterns for so long that breaking out of the pattern feels strange and almost unnecessary (ie, why would I eat more when I am comfortable with my current intake/why would I gain weight when I am *just* accepting of the size I am now?)

But I am pretty sure there is more.

Something about facing up to life, to myself, to the world, without hiding behind my behaviours or appearance is terrifying. Life confuses me. The unpredictability, the constant changes and need to adapt, the whirlwind of emotions in everyday life, never mind the extra turmoil that major events cause. Seemingly small stresses overwhelm me- a part-time job, going out for lunch, paying bills. I feel like I am still the same 12 year old I was when this all started. As if the hands of time stopped in my internal world, leaving my completely unable to "just deal".

Of course, restricting, overexercising, bouncing in and out of hospital, etc hasn't helped the situation. The less I eat, the more overwhelmed I get, the narrower my vision gets, the less capable I am of coping with day to day life.

I know this. And yet I continue to retreat into what is familiar and predictable as soon as life gets "too much" (by "too much", I mean I stop hiding and face up to the responsibilities of adulthood and realise, I don't know what the hell I am doing- I think a lot of people probably feel the same and make it up as they go along...at least, that's what I tell myself!)

There is also the very real fear of being just as screwed up emotionally/mentally at a healthier weight, but due to looking "normal", not getting any support/help with it. The times I HAVE been at a healthier weight have been when my mood swings have been out of control, my urges to self-harm have been through the roof, and barring the suicide attempt I made last year, all the others have been when, to the outside world, I looked "healthy".

Remaining in my anorexic body is, in a way, how I can communicate and say, "I'm not doing so well". But on the other hand, I cope with things so much better when I have the starvation-induced numbness. Because I don't feel so deeply. I don't have to think about what I want to do with my life, worry about the world/my place in it/how it all comes together because all I care about is food/eating/weight.

I want a bigger life? I need to buy some bigger jeans.

So do I *want* a bigger life? Yes. Without a doubt. I want the freedom back that I wrote about yesterday, I want to sparkle and shine and have a true purpose and meaning to my days beyond that false satisfaction and security that anorexia gives me.

It's just so complicated. I don't know HOW to actually change things. How to literally scrap the life I have created for myself where there are a zillion rules and regulations, habits and compulsions, rituals and obsessions. How to create a life worth living, how to deal with life the way people my age do. How to eat properly regardless of what size jeans I am wearing, how to exercise in an appropriate way, how to fill my time, how to be ME, in a world where I have experienced all but a few months of adulthood as a patient/anorexic/crazy person.

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage."

Anais Nin

Ploughing Through Building Blocks- What's That? I Missed Some?

I feel like I have been kidding myself all week. I thought I was doing so well- busting through the roadblocks my mind throws up when I think about eating certain foods, the stupid rules I have about different foods/meals/snacks. It's all been going smoothly. Too smoothly. Maybe that in itself should have been a warning sign to me... I don't know. I think sometimes I get a little too excited about things going well and ignore other symptoms/behaviours cropping up. I feel kind of stupid for not noticing this until tonight.

I think I've mentioned before about my walking. I've been further and further lately- after randomly inputting my walks into "Map My Run", the walks have gotten longer/faster (no big surprise there, right?..) The weather this week has been particularly horrible, yet my walking has continued. My boots literally fell apart in the snow and I took them off to walk in just my socks. I have my class tomorrow morning and therapy Tuesday morning- the biggest thing on my mind about both of these is, "how will I fit in my walking?".

Stupid ED rules. Need to be home by 12 if I am going to have lunch, which means that if my morning is taken up with class/appointments, I need to leave at a crazy hour to have enough time to fit in my walk. It's only tonight when I was getting my bag packed for class that I had my, "AHA!" moment. You would have thought that a toenail falling off and my feet being literally bruised would have been a signal, no?

I am so frustrated right now. I really thought things were going WELL- and they *are*. I'm not going to discredit the attempts I have made this week with regards to food/meals/eating, because it's been a significant challenge and I HAVE made progress. But now I don't know if it was even real progress to begin with, or if I was just switching symptoms, or walking to ignore the anxiety that came up with changing my eating.

How do you guys deal with the anxiety that comes up when you are challenging eating disordered fears?..

In other news, I am really excited about the secret cupid valentine exchange- I mailed mine last week and am looking forward to it being received and posted on this person's blog! (YOUR blog...no, YOU...no YOU!!! Hehe...)

Different Shades Of Grey

I have to admit that even the thought of writing this is making me feel more than a little uncomfortable. Good enough reason to write it, eh? Am just hoping I can articulate it adequately without stepping on anyone's toes.

I have recently noticed myself having conversations with people I don't know very well making me feel really uncomfortable. A common theme amongst conversations with people who don't know me or my history, seems to be weight and dieting. This doesn't sit well with me. I'm really not okay discussing diets or the weight they have lost- whether they need to or not, I don't really want to engage in the conversation. Similar story with friends I have met in hospital- I WANT to be a supportive friend, a good listener...but on the other hand, I don't want to hear about the latest admission to hospital, latest treatment contract, latest threat from doctors. It's not that I find it triggering right now- I find it (and am struggling to find the right word for this) boring.

I just feel like I have been there, struggled with that, it's not a current issue I am facing and I don't really want to be reminded of the times in my life when that has been the biggest issue going on. I feel really guilty for even thinking this way. I am well aware of the fact that friends have moved forwards with their recovery and cut off contact with me for this same reason, and how hurt and misunderstood *I* felt at the time. It hurts me to feel like I am doing the same thing to people now.

I'm finding myself deleting emails without responding, deleting facebook wall messages without even acknowledging that they were even there. I don't know if I am being selfish or sensible, but I can't bring myself to 1) engage in the discussion, or 2) let the person know that I'm not in a place right now where I am comfortable with this.

I am REALLY enjoying spending less time reading eating disorders message forums and more time reading recovery-orientated blogs. I think it's helping ME right now, but am wary of responding too much/getting too involved with the blogging community because I don't want to be "that girl" that is pulling everyone else down.

I don't know. I feel like I am moving into a different place recovery-wise, where I am drawn to the HEALTHY side of me, but am still very much connected to the sick part of me. Trapped in between and not really fitting in on either side (and not quite sure where I "go" in between...except continuing to plough forwards, of course!)

The LAST thing I want is for people to read this and think I am talking about THEM- I'm NOT TALKING ABOUT ANYONE IN PARTICULAR. Merely stepping back and observing that I am moving forward and it's a strange kind of "no one's land" I find myself in.

Who Would Have Thought That Therapy Could Be Helpful?!

"set shifting": the ability to move back and forth between tasks,
operations, or mental sets, which is a function primarily linked to the
prefrontal cortex.

I was talking to my therapist on Tuesday about the difficulty I have breaking out of patterns. How I eat the same foods every day because I can't seem to comprehend the availability of other options. How I go for the same walks each day because a different route feels too complex to consider as an option. How this course I have started ('philosophy of religion' for those who asked!) is throwing up many challenges, aside from the workload itself, in terms of challenging my rituals, disturbing my routine, etc. She explained to me the link between set-shifting and anorexia which results in a sort of tunnel-vision way of living. She explained that *this* is why I get so stuck in routines and patterns- it's something which ANYONE struggles with at low weights/in states of starvation, but she said the research shows that people with anorexia have always had this, and continue to do so even after weight restoration.

It's not necessarily a BAD thing. It means a lot of drive, an ability to really focus on the task at hand- hell, if you are doing a PHD, the ability to focus 100% would work wonders. Problem I am dealing with is adapting to real-life, sans PHD (!). Looking back, it has come and gone in waves. It is definitely worse when I am deep in anorexic behaviours. The inability to shift into another mode drives the behaviour, the behaviour itself fuels the fire.

We talked about this in some depth as I tried to figure out a way to break out of the tunnel-vision, see more options and make more CHOICES rather than repeating the same things because I don't *see* any other choices to choose between. She said I can't reprogram the way my brain works, but what I CAN do is recognise what is going on, step back and look at the situation from an outsiders perspective ("what would someone else do right now?")

I've surprised myself by actually managing to do this since our session. Not in huge measures, but definitely moving in the right direction. It sounds small and stupid, but I'm actually really proud of myself for the choices I have been making with food/meals since Tuesday. Talking to my therapist, and for the first time ever, actually saying out loud *exactly* what was going on in my head without worrying about being judged/punished has really enabled me to GET advice and USE the advice.

Wow. Sounds so obvious now- that's why professionals are there, right?.. Who would have thought I might actually BENEFIT from treatment?.. (kidding- kind of...this current therapist and I have had an on/off relationship for a few years and I've not quite trusted her until recently so not been able to open up completely, and other therapists have had the "it's not about food so we won't talk about food" mentality- helpful, yes, but it's not something that can really be ignored with treatment of anorexia...)

So yeah. This is kind of new for me, and kind of exciting. It feels really good to be making some concrete changes that I can see/measure in terms of improving my situation. Often I've spent months in therapy and although I may have made some progress mentally, at the end of 6/8/12 months, nothing has REALLY changed in any way. Ha- I'm so excited that since Tuesday, I haven't eaten the same thing more than once. Wooo! (Yes, I know it's only Thursday but this is HUGE for me!)

I'm still really struggling with the feelings of guilt about not doing more/not achieving more/not saving the world right now. Nighttime is hardest- I've been watching TV to distract myself and falling asleep as the credits go up on 'Friends', but I wake up at 3-4am, tears soaking my pillow, my thoughts racing about applying for jobs/courses, moving, going back to New York.

It's hard to hold onto the thought that right here, right now, I am doing *exactly* what I need to be doing to shape my future. I can't change the past and I can't rush through the present. It's a process and there aren't the short-cuts I find myself rushing to find.

"Dem Bones Dem Bones Need Calcium"

Everything about moving has fallen apart in a rather dramatic fashion. I was due to fly on Tuesday, have yet to change my flights but there is no way I can go. My apartment fell through in a web of betrayal, deceit and...well, mystery to be honest. I'm not quite sure what to believe at this point, or why things unfolded the way they did, but needless to say, my dreams to go back to New York in time for Christmas have been shattered. I can't really say more about it than that- I'm still reeling from the blink-of-an-eye way in which the coming months so quickly took shape, and then in a similar blink-of-an-eye way crumbled.

Other than that, things are kind of the same. Or not. I had gone to the doctor for blood tests last week to try and figure out why I am STILL sleeping 15 hours a day, STILL too dizzy and tired to do anything, STILL feeling like I have been hit by a bus. The lab results came normal, then the receptionist giving the results asked me if I had spoken to the doctor about my x-ray. What x-ray?!!! Turns out that my trip to the ER a couple of weeks ago resulted in bringing to light an abnormality in my spine. It seems that my spine is starting to curve- which explains the 3 inches of jutting vertebrae constantly rubbing on my chair. One word: osteoporosis. yes, at the age of 26, I am developing a hunchback.

Drink your milk kids.

I don't quite know what to say about this either. I'm going to meet with my doctor on Monday and see from there, I guess? I don't really know much about osteoporosis. I was diagnosed almost 7 years ago and deny it as much as I can. A quick google brings up images of x-rays that churn my stomach. Ignorance is bliss. Though I can't ignore the fact that I have to sit on buses and trains at an angle because the plastic bangs into my back awkwardly.

On a different note, I stumbled upon this tidbit of information today:

"your brain, which requires at least one fifth of your daily caloric intake to function properly"

who knew?..

Everything's Changed (Back To What It Was?..)

I last posted over a week ago. Things haven't really changed from a physical point of view. I'm still sleeping insane amounts, still feeling horribly unwell and still no clue what is actually going on with my body right now. Different people have different theories- adrenal fatigue, food intolerance's, depression, thyroid problem. It's all being investigated.

Meanwhile, on Tuesday night I started exchanging emails with a really good friend of mine in New York. Turned out, she is moving into a new apartment this week and looking for a roommate. Within 24 hours, I had booked flights, made appointments with a psychiatrist and therapist and am all set to go.

How do you know if you are doing the right thing?..

The reasons I left New York remain pretty much unchanged. The reasons why I want to leave Edinburgh so badly are accumulating by the day. I *need* to get out of Edinburgh and New York is the "easiest" option (as in, I know the city, have somewhere to live, etc). I don't know if it's going to work out this time. I pretty much stopped caring about ANYTHING somewhere amidst my move to London, and that also remains unchanged. I don't want to go back, but honestly? I don't want to be anywhere right now. I am NOT (for the record) suicidal. Hell, I don't want to be dead anymore than I want to be alive right now.

Something in the emails sparked *something* in me, and maybe now that the initial excitement has worn off, am just overwhelmed by moving, yet again, and the increasing frustration with the situation in Edinburgh.

I don't know what to do, and I don't know what my options are right now. There are so many "pros" to moving, and far less for staying. Lots of cons on either side. Nothing feels quite right about this, and I can't think straight enough to figure it all out myself. But I don't actually have anyone in real life to talk this over with...(and yes, I am aware how pathetic this is).

You Can Never Go Home Anymore

It’s a difficult thing to comprehend right now. My head isn’t in a place where I can think rationally about finding somewhere to live, figuring out how to pay for it, then all the stuff to do once I move- little things like changing my address for my bank, etc. It’s just so draining. I feel like I am drowning in unfamiliar waters, and it’s sink or swim time… I can’t swim, and drowning seems to be my fallback.

I’m feeling really lonely here too. Strange, since I definitely have far more connections in London than I did in Scotland, but I’m lacking the professional support I have been used to.

There isn’t an actual urgency to sort everything out at this point. Part of me thinks I should give it another few weeks, get settled into college so I at least have SOME concrete “roots” and structure, but then there is this Achilles heel part of me that wants to do everything immediately. Slow and steady would be the logical course here, but I am frantic and scared and just want everything to be sorted out logistically, and I’ll figure the rest out later.

I feel guilty for expecting help with this. I feel guilty for not just being NORMAL. I should have a job, share an apartment, have a 4-wheel drive, 2.4 kids. Instead my life revolves around food and weight and little else. I am hoping school broadens this a little- this could potentially be the start of something that will turn things around for me once and for all. Or it could be, like in the past, the key that sets the wheels in motion for another full-blown relapse.

Time will tell. Hopefully I have learned from my past experiences. I think I have...we'll see.

Lack Of Therapy = Lack Of Thought

I have now moved. I’ve been here a little over 24 hours, and already am feeling the strain. Everything feels so unfamiliar, so daunting, so complicated. I’m struggling with the disruption in my routines, new environment, the crowds, the uncertainty. I’m finding things difficult that for so long have been easy for me- little things like buying a sandwich for lunch suddenly seem so complex and intimidating. I feel like arrows of anxiety and fear are firing at me, and I’m being beaten to the ground by invisible blows. I’m scared to go outside, scared to eat, scared to sleep, scared to breathe.

I am very aware of the fact that if I don’t get a grip, and soon, this is all going to come crashing down and end in disaster.

I need to enrol in college.

I need to find somewhere to live.

I need to, somehow, find a balance and be able to juggle “life” with the demons that continue to plague me wherever I move to.

Since coming back from New York, I haven’t been in therapy, and it was only yesterday that I realised quite how much this is impacting my world. Not only have I stopped talking about how I am feeling or what I am doing- I’ve stopped thinking about it. I’ve become increasingly drawn into the shadows of my eating disorder, because it’s just too easy to let it’s grips tighten when my voice is silenced. And in the silence, anorexia grows more and more powerful, until my voice is completely mute. My world shrinks and expands directly in proportion to the extent of my ability to step outside of myself and look objectively at the correlation between “me” and “anorexia”. Looking at what drives my behaviours helps me to understand exactly what’s going on and what I need to do about it. On the flip-side (NOT looking at it) I then get caught up in the web of anorexia until once again, I am too entangled to even have the motivation to try and find a way out.

I’m struggling, and I’m scared.

It's Really Happening (what is?)

"Overwhelmed" doesn't even begin to cover it. I am moving this week- most of my stuff sits in an apartment 500 miles away, and I'll be joining my possessions on Friday. I want to say that I am excited, happy, relieved...but this feels oh-so-wrong. I moved away from London for very valid reasons at the time, and moved to somewhere I believed would offer some different opportunity. To summarise, it's been a disaster from the word "go". My original reasons for moving, in hindsight, stemmed purely from fear. I was running. Not *to*, but *from*. I've been running ever since, and now am going back where potentially, I could be forced to face those demons once again if I don't tread carefully.

I know how the system works. Scotland has been a bit of a minefield for me, New York even more so. I've been out of my depth when it comes to certain areas, and it's shown. The stress eats away at me, little by little, until it has eroded half my body and half my brain and what's left is a vacant shell where my soul once lived.

London NOW feels threatening. I know it too well. I know where the obstacles are, and am a "pro" at avoiding them. I'm talking in terms of medical treatment here. I know the system better than I know the streets. Where to live, where not to live. When to show up to appointments, when to cancel. This could well work in my favour, unless my negativity is running the show, and knowing me/my patterns/my eating disorder, it's oh-so-easy to become a statistic when 1) stress from moving and college starts to become consuming, and 2) I know how to avoid doctors/treatment if I choose to.

I'm scared.

Scared because I know that things aren't going well. I eat my oatmeal, smile, say "good morning" to my family and go off on my adventures for the day. I pretend everything is fine. I want to go to college, I want to see my friends, I want to go back to dancing, I want to be healthy, I want LOTS of things.

But really, I don't. I don't want it ENOUGH. I am scared of eating, scared of breaking my rituals, scared of giving up my obsessions. My heart thumps erratically in my chest, my heart pounding against what feels like a boa constrictor around it. Every breath hurts. I'm tired, I'm dizzy, everything hurts. It's hard to think straight because I'm so exhausted, cold, confused.

I feel like a wimp for 1) feeling like this, and 2) verbalising it. I have said it on my blog, but I would never say it out loud. How weak of me to not be able to take the blows I throw myself. How pathetic of me to complain about something purely self-inflicted.

And yet I don't know if it IS self-inflicted. I'm not doing anything overly disordered. My body is perhaps just weakened, or maybe everyone feels like this and it's normal after all?

It's been a draining last 24 hours. I'm sure I'll feel differently tomorrow. If not, I can mention it to my therapist, who will confirm that yes, I am indeed, absolutely fine and should shut the hell up and get over myself.

Changes On The Horizon

Everything suddenly seems to be happening so fast. Too fast. I have been offered a place at college to do a course I am really interested in. I applied, thinking that 1) I wouldn't get in, and 2) that it didn't start for another month.

I got a place.

It starts in less than two weeks.

No problem with this, except that it is 500 miles away.

Suddenly it seems a little daunting.

I want to move. I NEED to move (which was partly why I applied), but suddenly have run out of time and there is just so.much.to.do.

I know me, and I know it will all come together in a manic organising frenzy. I'll sort out accommodation, packing, train fares. I'll do the paperwork, buy the textbooks- fly through the first month on adrenaline, then it will hit me that I really didn't think this through at all.

THEN WHAT?

Then I'll be 500 miles away from "home"- my family, my treatment team, all that is familiar. I'll be waiting for an intake with my new treatment team, the stress of my course will be kicking in, everything will be overwhelming and without the adrenaline, I'll crumble.

I need to stop this spiral before it starts.

Breathe. Relax. Remind myself that this course isn't the be-all and end-all. It's only a year. I don't have to do it forever if I decide it's not right. I can always come back here. I have more friends and support in London than I have up here- hell, the only reason I moved here in the first place was to live with my dad, and he moved 1000 miles away a year ago. I WANT this. I want to move, and at least with college starting, I'll have structure and deadlines and momentum to get me through the stress of moving (I thrive under pressure, then crumble when the initial stress is lifted).

This has the potential to be a disaster. It also has the potential to be amazing. I'm going to focus on the "amazing" aspect for now...