Cancelled appointment

I’ve booked annual leave tomorrow as i am due to see Dr Shaggy, only at 4.45 pm his secretary phoned and explained he was off sick. Ah, the relief – no weigh in. I’ve been struggling a lot with how huge i feel. Struggling to keep on track of my diet. Recent psychotherapy sessions have been very upsetting and all i want/need to do (to my ED head anyway) is cut out food, not feel. Hopefully by the time i next see him, i’ll be on less of a wobble.

NICE

I’ve finally managed to get my hair cut – it’s a long standing difficulty. Arggh, mirrors. I also did some much needed chores in town. I came home to an email from an eating disorder charity. NICE have asked for lay people who have/had/care for a person affected with an eating disorder to  help them look at care provision. It means meetings in London and reading research. I’ve been very lucky with the care i’ve received in my city from the NHS and it’s good to give back.

Feeling v low

Post Ray’s family always sees me nose dive mood wise. Add in a difficult psychotherapy session and work politics and then i’m drowning. I have psychiatrist and weigh in on Tuesday, too. Struggling with the realisation this last few weeks in therapy, that i was a “plaything”, not me in my own right, not me, worth loving. Urgh, so painful.

Extended family

Here is a really interesting take on grandparents and estrangement

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/becca-bland/grandparents-rights_b_6736482.html

Today’s session with Dr Freud Dude was another painful and poignant one. It’s left me very flat and very tearful. My depression is much worse. He got me to explore how my family never did their role in raising me. I was the youngest and a “plaything” to them, a doll. Not a person in my own right. Something, not someone. I realise now, it is no wonder my “self worth” has been in shreds all these years. It’s another grief.

Masks

Your daily truth from the Brave Girls Club
Dear Genuine Girl,

Do you know how brave it is to show up and be exactly who you are? Do you know how extraordinarily courageous it is to step out from behind the cardboard cutout of the “perfect self” and show yourself in all of your imperfection and frailty and vulnerability?

Sometimes people or situations have caused us to feel as though we might be wimpy when we show our human side, our imperfect parts, our real selves…..when in fact, it is the bravest thing of all to show up exactly as we are, and exactly as who we are.

Please, dear friend, don’t ever let anything or anyone make you believe that you have to wear a mask or a costume or hide behind a perfect looking cardboard cutout. We can not have real relationships with cardboard, or with masks, or with costumes. We can only have authentic relationships with souls….and when we don’t show up all the way…we can never really connect deeply with each other in the ways that our souls are craving to connect.

And…the thing is…we are ALL imperfect. We are ALL frail humans. We are ALL just trying to figure things out. We are all sometimes afraid to come out of hiding and take off the masks and the costumes.

Let’s all be someone who it is easy to be real around….and the way we do that is by letting ourselves be real.

This is true and good stuff, dear soul. You are the real deal, and it is so beautiful.

You are so very loved.
xoxo

Being with family

We’re back after a weekend in snowy Wigan with Ray’s family. It’s been really hard. We went out as a large “family” group yesterday for my wonderful mum-in-law’s birthday. This was really challenging for me as i’m recovery from anorexia, and eating in public is still quite hard. Plus it stirred up emotions of my own family, and loss. I also realized that as we live 70 miles away from Ray’s family we only get to see them a few times a year (his sister has visited us twice in 16 years). This also means even when we are there, we’re almost not. We are not part of their day to day lives, and as such we’re on the edge of the family. I’ve realised too that “family things” are hard for me to participate in. An example is Saturday and Sunday TV. The TV is on, it is awful game shows, etc. The sound is too loud to hear what people are saying, and no one is watching it. Add to this mix that Ray and i haven’t had a TV for about 17 years, so having it on from morning to night is hard to manage. It’s good to be back in Sheffield, me, Ray and our moggies.

I’m gutted that the post i’ve applied for has had the closing date extended by 2 weeks. I’m hoping this is due to lack of applicants.

Dr Freud Dude today was helpful. He is chipping away at my “it must be my fault” block. I told him about my recent workshop on isolation with Stand Alone. We were asked to draw our isolation. I drew me in a box with no facial features. Outside of the box there were many people, all with smiley faces. I talked about how hard it is to even watch something violent on iPlayer. He suggested i eve struggle to work/acknowledge violent or angry feelings.

Jo and Chik were in town tonight. We met for a beer and then a meal. It was lovely. I managed not to cry this time.