Things are a little better this morning. I'm still very hurt about how my Brother yelled at me, and avoiding him like the plague, but mum and I talked last night and this morning and things are a little calmer. I'm still horribly anxious about my weigh tomorrow, and then not seeing my dietician for 2-4 weeks, but mum's suggested making a second appointment tomorrow to talk about strategies to get through it easier. To be honest, if my weight goes down again tomorrow, I probably won't have too much issue eating 1,200/day for those weeks - it's if it goes up, that I don't know how to deal with. This is only week two on 1,200, and I'm not confident that it won't make me gain (even though I dropped on my first week), but I guess I'll just have to see how it goes tomorrow.
Currently, I'm sitting in bed keeping warm, and just had a late breakfast. Cinnamon oatmeal topped with peaches and a garnish of yoghurt, and a half a cantaloupe. It's my new favourite breakfast - very filling for the modest sum of roughly 200 calories (depending on the size of the melon). I'm going to try to get to 1,200 today, though it wouldn't surprise me if I enlist the help of supplement shakes again because Monday's are always difficult. I'm still trying, though.
Mum kept saying yesterday, and this morning too, that I should really consider inpatient again. That she doesn't want to see me in the Swanston Center (note: The Swanston Center is the psych ward of my local hospital. It's scary as fuck, and it's always been the 'serious' threat from multiple psychs, social workers and the like. It's never come to pass, but even someone mentioning it makes me want to run. JB, the psych at the hospital, came close to putting me in there but I needed too many IVs and medical care, and my medical team prevented it) , but she does want to see me on an EDU. There's a million reasons why I refuse to do that again. The way it works here, is just fucked. I'm not going to get into a massive ramble, but my two biggest gripes are they only provide weight-restoration based care and no psych support, and it's too competitive and triggering having to live and eat as a group with the other girls. Yes, they got my weight up, but they didn't do a damn thing that helped. I came out, without a doubt, mentally worse than I went in. Also that lack of normality in the meals. Okay, I said I wasn't going to ramble, so I'm stopping now.
My mum's going out to dinner tomorrow night with my brother, his girlfriend, and her family. I still haven't caught up with his girlfriend, and they've been together nearly all year (I met her when they dated 5-6 years ago). I'm constantly bombarded with invitations to go out for coffee or lunch, even though I've told Brother I can't deal with it right now. And I'm not about to go out for a big multi-family dinner, especially when I don't like Indian food. Ugh. Tuesday is the one day a week I feel comfortable eating things I'm not 100% certain of the calories in (because it's the furthest day away from being weighed again, and I need a break), which means I actually eat the same dinner as my family. Not this week. Looks like I'm ordering takeout (read: asking my mum to before she leaves, because I could never place an order on the phone, let alone answer the door). Sigh.
Seeing the dietician first thing tomorrow morning. I'll try to get a second appointment tomorrow so we can talk about how I'm going to deal with my intake for the next two weeks, and what to do if I feel like I'm slipping and can't stop it. Mum thinks she'll be able to squeeze me in on Oct 9th (two weeks), but I don't have an appointment booked until the 23rd, and I'm freaking out. Fingers crossed my weight drops tomorrow so I'm more comfortable to keep eating for the next 2-4 weeks. Ugh.