Man. I am a meany.
I just sent two of my best friends like a three page text about why to not ask me about treatment.
"How's treatment?"
The thoughts, feelings came hard and fast. Uncontrollably
My initial reaction is to throw it back in their faces.
How the fuck am I supposed to summarize treatment. In a word? In a text?
I mean it's like someone asking you about a vacation...so much happened, so many emotions, activities, feelings, experiences...how do you honestly answer that question?
I'm not sure why I get so mad and so defensive so fast.
I mean these are my best friends, or people that truly care how it's going.
I'm lucky to have them I don't want to push them away.
"It's mostly positive right?" Well no. It's not. This is the hardest shit I've ever done.
I like to compartmentalize things. This is what I'm feeling, put it in a box, put it away.
But I don't know what the fuck I'm feeling so I can't put it in a box, it's not going away.
I guess some of me just doesn't want to think about it all again.
I guess some of me just resents that I have to do this still.
I spend 7 hours in there, please just let me have some peace outside of it.
I mean today the morning was great. I was on high. Such a high I almost cried of joy (yea wtf). Then came our outing to Tutu Bella.
We went and got pizza and then had to have dessert. Then sit in a car on the way home in awkward silence as every girl is in their heads. Then sit and do a stupid fucking art project that I didn't want to do and then BAM there's dinner in my face and then oh yes let's do yoga in jeans in a small ass room so I'm uncomfortable and crammed and full.
GREAT. Just fucking great.
So that my friends is how treatment was today.
Meh. Not that's not accurate.
There was the part when I reached out to a girl who was struggling and we were buddies for the meal.
There was the part when I ate the pizza and I enjoyed it (but man it was hard to fight Ed constantly, he was saying don't do this. You have to workout later. You're going to get so fat if you keep this not caring about what you eat shit up....) And then dessert on top of an already super hard meal. Sitting next to girls that are struggling too. Their anxieties catching like fire. And ED still saying this is bad. This is so bad. And me going but I liked it. A constant battle.
My anxiety is felt so strongly in my body. My heart races. I clench my jaw. My hands sweat. My mind is everywhere and nowhere all at once.
Then there was dinner where the dietitian next to me was leaning into my space and just chomping her food. GET OUT OF MY FACE I yelled in my head but then I heard my actual voice go you're really triggering me. We worked through it.
I hate typing this out because most of you don't have EDs and don't understand why something like that would be so damn hard. So then there's a shame that comes with it.
Which makes me more mad.
I guess there's just a lot I had to push today. A lot I had to deal with. A lot I had to do. And then to have people ask me how is it? Reminds me that it's not that fucking great right now. And I feel so much pressure to get better since everyone knows I am in here.
But it's a blessing that you know because I then have so much support.
I guess it's the hard days like these that show what I'm made of and I did it all. It wasn't pretty. I wasn't very nice. But I got through it.
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