At the moment I'm having a hard time coping with things. Nothing serious; just life, reality, the world as a whole. Part of me is frustrated by my non-life state, but a bigger part of me is scared to engage in the world. I haven't even been to the supermarket in about a month.
I saw the dietician yesterday. Every appointment starts with the calorie chat. Three days have been around 700, and the other three days in the range of 900-1,000. My Tuesday treat day (when I bake something, have a family dinner, and maybe drink wine) last week came to 1,300 calories, after a distinct lack of alcohol graced my intake book. The dietician wants me to aim for a minimum of 900 calories, each and every day, which I have to admit makes me anxious. I haven't worked to a minimum calorie intake for months, and it brings me closer to having to raise my portion sizes.
My weight dropped a little bit this week, though nothing drastic. As always, I was surprised, and relieved, that I hadn't gained.
I've been kinda down recently. My anxiety is sky-high, and I'm constantly bursting into tears. The past few months, I've been crying to mum that I have nothing in my days. It's true, she agrees, and it hurts. She says I'm too sick to have anything in my days. But it's hard to want to improve things when there seems nothing to fight for. I don't watch TV, I don't leave the house, I don't contact friends outside of Blogger. I live in a bubble of mental illness. I do nothing, except sometimes help cook dinner when I have the energy. I stare at the wall and wait for the days to pass, and it kills me. No distractions seem to work, no hobbies seem to stick. But at the same time, I'm utterly clueless as to what to do with myself. I feel overwhelmed, though there's nothing to be overwhelmed about. I'm going to every extent to not have to deal with anything. I'm turning 20 in two weeks, but I feel like my life is at such a standstill, I'm not ready to get older.
This afternoon, I finally had my blood test. Thankfully it was quiet, and I was the only one there. I'm seeing the lovely GP again tomorrow morning, and mum seems to have prioritized some concerns that she wants me to raise. At the moment, I just want to hide under a pile of blankets and never go out again.
Soup for dinner, as I had sourdough toast with vintage cheese for lunch. Too much. Far too much.
No fruit today, which makes me uncomfortable, so best have lots of veggies with dinner. And I want to stay under 900. And I'm just too tired to bother preparing anything.
Soup for dinner.