I know that judging my weight on a daily basis is futile, and nothing short of an exercise in torture. But I slipped back to it so easily, so comfortably, and the scales are once again dictating how my day will go. With everything I eat, even the safest of safe foods, there's that worry of what the scales will say in the morning. I haven't weighed myself daily for... well, maybe two years. It's been the one thing I could say I was doing 'right'.
Tuesday morning, my dietician told me I'd lost weight. She never tells me how much, but this time I already knew. I was down 0.3kg this Tuesday from last Tuesday on the Wii scales. It's not much, but it's something. I can't expect to lose 2kgs week after week anymore. Even though it's never given a 100% accurate weight, it's at least consistent. So I don't know exactly what I weigh each day, but I know of any changes. I didn't tell the dietician and my mum doesn't know either. I barely spoke, again.
She keeps asking if I know why my intake's still so low, what's different now compared to when I was reaching 1,200-1,300 calories. I sat silent for what felt like an eternity before I could summon words.
I couldn't elaborate more than that. I don't want to dump all of the crazy, heavy, illogical, deathwish, deep-down crap on her when she's not a mental health professional.
And speaking of the devils... Leaving the appointment, I finally bit the bullet and booked my first appointment with the Mental Health Nurse. April 9th. I've put it off for as long as I can, but my GP's been increasingly uncomfortable with herself and my dietician being my only supports. I can't say I blame her. I haven't seen any mental health professionals for over two years, so I've had a good run. I haven't seen one on a regular basis for even longer. I still have no idea what to expect but I'm trying not to over-think it. Honestly, I think my biggest worry is about getting slapped with a section and pushed into weight restoration, which has been the general trend after seeing psychiatrists etc. ever since I developed Anorexia, hence I've worked so hard to avoid psychs and hospitals these past few years.
Oh, and the whole 'social' thing... I'm catching up with my friend later today for drinks. Surreal. I've just had my second lorazepam for today and will likely have another before I go. On top of everything else, the prospect of social interaction has had my anxiety at agonizing levels all week. I feel completely overwhelmed, and I've been taking one, two, three lorazepam a day to try to calm my head. I considered backing out last-minute, but what good would that do me? It'll never get easier.
Agoraphobia-wise, it's not too much of a challenge. It's not like I'll be out-and-about in the world in public with strangers. It'll just be house-car-house which I can deal with, and he's someone I trust and feel safe with. Since a few people have suggested it; I actually cannot stand to have people in the house. I feel too vulnerable and completely freak out at the idea of anyone visiting. We haven't had company in years. I won't even let medical professionals in despite their offers of home visits.
But the anxiety, my god, I don't have words enough to describe it. I really, really don't plan on making being social a regular thing or a goal in the foreseeable future. It takes me 24hrs+ to send a one-sentence message because I stress so much over every word. How am I supposed to hold an actual conversation?!
I am actually an alien. I wouldn't put it past me to try to shake hands with a car.
This week's just been... I don't know. Everything's too much, too overwhelming, too much. I just have to get through today, and tomorrow I can hide away from the world again. For now though, I need to drag my butt out of my armchair and get on the step to kill some time and clear my head, lest I sit here bubbling away with stress for the rest of the day.