If the Nutritionist’s goal on Monday was to cause me so much stress and anxiety that I will barely be able to eat, then she succeeded.  The appointment was awful.  Like, so bad that I found myself dissociating and I have never dissociated nor had the need to dissociate in there.  But she was overloading me and I was not handling it well.  As a matter of fact, she took a look at me and actually said, “You look scared.”  Evidently, my poker face failed me.  And I was scared…too much, too fast, too hard.  And now, I am so stressed at meal times because I am afraid I am going to do the “wrong” thing that I am paralyzed to the point of eating virtually nothing.  Plus, when I get really super stressed, I have a hard time eating anyway…Plus, eating has been making me feel sick to my stomach for the past handful of weeks….At the moment, I am really struggling.

And overall, Monday was a horrible day.  The AT took initiative where I would not have (this was not the horrible part, I am relieved that he started the ball rolling).  Even with the best intentions of talking to him about food/eating, I know that I would not have brought it up Monday…It was just not something I could push out from my brain and into the world for discussion.  But…the AT had this huge stack of papers…The faxes of my records from the Nutritionist. And that kind of kicked off the discussion.  And the size of the stack was kind of intimidating (granted, they were single-sided).  What on earth could she have said that took up all that paper?

So, I asked.  And he handed me the stack and I read the first one.  Plain and simple, right there, black and white…Heidi has a big problem.  Ouch.  And then there was the math equation of calories in, calories out and the disparity there. Now, the Nutritionist did talk to me about this last time I saw her…So it wasn’t new, but it was on paper.  In ink.  Ouch again.

And I would tell you that I don’t have a problem, but I keep being told that I have a problem.  For some reason everyone else thinks I have a problem.

Then the AT asked me pointed questions about my over-the-holidays nutrition goals and where I was at with them.  The AT never asks pointed questions like that and I was really uncomfortable. And then he had had me draw a picture representing my eating disorder and he wanted me to take a picture of it and show it to the Nutritionist…That was sooo not going to happen!  I just plain refused.  And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because the Nutritionist was so busy overwhelming me during my appointment that I never even got to bring up therapy.

I feel like I am in a very precarious spot right now and I feel very fragile.  And the pressure to do what everyone else wants is killing me.  And pushing me past my current coping skills and making me fall back on old coping skills.  Which makes me hate myself more than usual.

Fucked. Fucked. Fucked.  I am always so fucked.

I feel like I can never win.

1 thought on “Breaking

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