There is a scale in the closet by the bathroom in the house where I am staying. I know it is there from when I went to grab toilet paper several weeks ago. I have a visual snapshot of it in my mind. And that scale is calling me hard this morning. “Just one peek. Just weigh yourself. Then you’ll know if you are eating too much.” It is hard to ignore.
I am really anxious this morning, and tearful. The transition to IOP is challenging. I was really annoyed by some of my peers in group yesterday as they were outright disrespectful to other people. I was really disheartened and after the first group, I was ready to get in my car and just drive east until I got home.
I am anxious because my “landlady,” Lisa, (what do you call her when you are just renting a room?) has her sister visiting. Her sister is very negative and has a strong sense of entitlement. And at times, she is passively aggressively mean (not to me but to Lisa). Plus she has this crazy pretentiousness. I am not used to this kind of person…Well, at least not used to living with someone like that. It makes me really uncomfortable and I am going to have to set some boundaries and I don’t quite know how. I am just not used to setting actual boundaries, I would much rather dodge and avoid. The clincher is that the sister is staying for an undetermined amount of time. I don’t know when the stress will end.
This morning I am meeting with the Pastoral Care woman I have been connected with via the UU. I have only met her once and today we are meeting at Starbucks. I have never gotten coffee at a Starbucks. I wouldn’t even choose to meet her there because it is a food oriented place, but she chose it. And it’s what normal people do, right? Meet for coffee? I am anxious about what to order, what to say to her, and about bursting into tears in front of her.
And then there is food. I feel so stressed about my meal planning and portioning. It is overwhelming. I already saw my dietitian this week…So, I have to muddle through without panicking. But last night, I did panic. I had that sudden rush of, “OMG. What am I doing? I am eating!!! I am going to gain sooo much weight and be soo disgusting.”
Can you see that the scale has nothing to do with what is going on right now? The scale is just a way to give me some power. If I know how much I weigh…everything will be better. Except my thought process isn’t even that conscious. It is a strong urge. “Weigh yourself. You have to know.”
I won’t weight myself. I really won’t because it will make NOTHING better.
What I will do is go on a walk. My psych NP is supposed to call for a check in soon and for privacy (from the sister) I am going to take the call outside. I adore my psych NP, so talking to her will make me feel better. And if I burst into tears talking to her, that’s okay.
As to the coffee? I checked the website. Decaf Peppermint Mocha. Sounds pretty good, eh?