Everything is too much. Not just food. Everything is too much.
The pressure just keeps building. It's a bubbling irritation, filling up my body, about to burst.
Meltdowns occur once or twice a day. The pressure builds, and I start to snap back whenever spoken to, swear like a sailor, or start ranting. Then comes the self-harm, in an explosive burst. I'm littered with bruises, bumps and various open wounds. I start to vocalize the negative talk that swims around in my head, raving in an endless circle. Sometimes a few tears leak out alongside, and if they do, good luck trying to stop crying.
My mood is shit, obviously. My intake is shit. I've been between 600-750 calories so far this week. So much for "not a single day under 1,000". Mum wants to be more involved in my meal planning, so she knows what I have to eat at each meal to get to 1,000. She also suggested we start planning a dinner I'm comfortable with earlier in the day, because I keep refusing to eat what's on the menu and having my stew or soup instead.
I'm dreading my appointments next week. I don't want to see the dietician after yet another week of failing to reach calorie goals. I don't want to see the thoracic physician, three months later and I'm still smoking like a train (though less weed, more tobacco). Mum says both are understandable, that I can't make any real progress with eating or smoking while my head's such a wreck. "One thing at a time" she says, "you can't be so hard on yourself", but all I see is failure.
As for my foot, I went back to the GP on Thursday, and showed her my impressive bruise. It seems I've sprained my arch, not my ankle, quite badly. She sent me to get an x-ray, and thankfully they came back fine. No breaks, just a helluvalot of bruising. Now I'm just waiting on her to sort out what's going on with my meds, and then hopefully things'll start to improve.
Sorry for so much negativity lately. On the bright side, I've nearly finished sewing my dress, so hopefully I'll have pictures up in the next few days.