Tuesday morning, it was 6°c and pouring down rain with gale-force winds. Everything was making me cry. Getting dressed was a nightmare. Trying to find something different but settling on the same old trackies-and-hoodie, looking at clothes and clutter everywhere and getting angry at myself for taking up so much space. I found my weigh-day shoes (they only weigh 172g!) soaking wet on the back porch and I just started crying 'fuck it all' over and over again.
Mum kept asking if I wanted to cancel my appointment with the dietician, but if I don't go, I don't have much other routine in my week. Thankfully the clinic is only about 500 meters down the road, so I still made it there on time.
I went in with my face red and puffy and cried all through the appointment. My intake's been strange, anywhere between 500-900 calories. She asked if I'd been doing any cooking and I told her that no, I'd been lazy, to which she said "you've been resting". But seriously. My intake on the day mum was away, was a glass of iced coffee flavored milk (190) with my morning meds and a slice of my brother's frozen pizza (215) for dinner, plus my usual coffee, Coke Zero, etc.. Things that are never a part of my diet, simply because it was convenient and I couldn't be bothered fussing with much else. Sigh. Disgusting.
I only exercised once that past week, for half an hour on the step. I've just been totally exhausted and haven't felt up to it. The dietician said that I shouldn't be exercising at all, that I need rest, both mentally and physically. I told her that the Lung Doctor Man/specialist said I should be exercising. Then we got into a discussion about the definition of 'exercise'. When I last saw the specialist in November, he asked about what exercise equipment I had (like a treadmill or exercise bike, he said - I have an elliptical) and instructed me to use it for half an hour "in front of the TV" each day. I think that's pretty clear.
She went on to say we need to look at the big picture and take care of my mental health as well as my physical health, and gave some analogy about wrapping me in cotton wool. I hysterically burst into tears again, saying that in November the specialist said exactly "we can't keep you wrapped in cotton wool".
She's told me to have the week off exercise, to try to be kind to myself about it, and we'll reassess next week. I see the specialist the week after, and I'm dreading what he's going to say about it. Don't get me wrong, he's a brilliant physician and he does try to understand my MH issues (let's not forget, he's the one who got me on lorazepam), but we clash when it comes to exercise. I made a three week plan from discharge to get my exercise back up to 2-3 hours a day by the time I had my checkup, but I never made it past two days. I did half an hour yesterday, just so I could say I've done something, but I physically couldn't manage more than that.
The next day I saw the Mental Health Nurse. I felt like a major waste of time because I just couldn't talk. I think the most I said was "I just feel very low". She asked why, what triggered it, but there was just nothing. I kept my eyes fixed downward and held back tears, letting out frustrated sighs, shifting in my chair, running my hands through my hair over and over again. She said I looked more 'alive' in hospital, that I didn't look well, and she hoped I wasn't getting sick again.
I left after maybe fifteen minutes. The next morning I made an appointment for the following week. I think maybe I need to see her earlier in the day, not at 4pm when I'm so exhausted. I just feel so disappointed in myself. I'm at the end of my rope. When I wake up in the morning, I don't know how I'm going to make it through the day. I need to be able to talk but I couldn't say more than a few words.
This morning I woke up crying before I even got off the couch. I just want to sink into the floor and disappear.
To top things off, my laptop, my Alienware, is dead. Completely. Components have melted, beyond repair type-dead. I am devastated. I don't use it a lot (I'm mostly a smartphone blogger), but I'd started using it again in hospital and it was helping to give me a distraction. I bought it maybe four years ago when I was super into gaming, but I've barely used it for two. The hard drive's being retrieved but not guaranteed to work, and to be honest, I'm not holding out much hope. PSA: backup your computers, ladies! (because this moron sure didn't)