Venturing out

Dietician yesterday. In the waiting room there was a new poster that caught my eye immediately. "Start the conversation on eating disorders", some sort of an information night at the hospital. "Finger food provided", I had to chuckle.

It was another appointment where I didn't talk much. She tries to give me prompts and asks lots of questions, and mum fills in the blanks if she can. I just can't seem to hold a conversation. I either choke on my words or vomit them up.

On Friday I ventured out into the world briefly, which the dietician was excited to hear. She asked how it went, and I said "not well". Mum and I drove two hours down the coast, to a cheese factory that we've been to a few times before. They make the best cheddar. So we browsed the gift shop and picked up a few kilos of their vintage cheddar; five and a half kilograms to be precise. It's crazy, I know, but it lasts forever and it's cheap in bulk. The best thing about it is that you only need the tiniest shaving, it's such a strong flavor.

Anyway, we were in the gift shop and I ended up having a panic attack, grabbing the keys from mum and running out to the car in tears. When mum came out, I'd been scratching at myself and started rambling about how I wasn't going out again, that it was too much and I couldn't do it. So it didn't go great, but it's something.

Back to the dietician. She asked if my mood had improved any, how I was doing with sewing, cooking, smoking, motivation in general. I just shrugged and mumbled; mum shook her head. I didn't sew or cook much this week. I just didn't want to, didn't have the energy to. One night I made a beef malabar curry with Thai rice, another night I made a long-grain chicken risotto. Both were because the days had been totally awful, and it was my way of apologizing to mum for being such a negative little shit. 

Calorie-wise, I was actually 'good' this week. Ensure every day. Each day came out between 1,120-1,160, which I'm calling 1,200. And what did the scales say? My first week meeting 1,200, and my weight stayed the same, thank god. If I keep having lower days, I'm just going to suppress my metabolism, and keep gaining-losing-gaining-losing.

Last night I skipped the Ensure, and opted for a few glasses of Shiraz instead. A temporary band-aid for feeling dead inside. Calories are calories. Who needs complete, balanced nutrition anyway?

xxBella