On Tuesday I walked in and she said
"I'm glad to see you. I wasn't sure after last week, and I was a bit worried when your car wasn't already here."
But that was about all she said on the matter.
We sit down and she asks the usual questions. I can't look at her. I can't talk to her.
"Do you want to get on the scales this week?"
"Well, I'll leave it up to you."
At the end of the appointment she asks if there's anything else I want to talk about.
"I'm all ears."
I just shook my head. I couldn't say anything. In retrospect, it was probably my opening, but I felt like she was saying "if you want to talk about anything except last week", and I didn't want her to get angry if I brought it up again.
So that didn't go so well. I left feeling just as crappy as I did before. I umm-ed and ahh-ed and eventually made another appointment to see her on Thursday (she only works at my clinic two days a week).
The whole appointment was one big uncomfortable mess. I know she feels bad about it, even if she isn't sorry about it, but we're still two bulls at a gate.
It wasn't going too awfully, but I had to ask the only question I had on my mind.
"I still don't understand why you didn't just tell me."
I even added all my clarifications that I wasn't expecting her to encourage me to lose, or to say the opposite of what she'd say if I was losing. I don't even need her apology any more - just the reason.
But of course, we're never going to reach a consensus on that so we shouldn't talk about it.
I just cried and cried.
I told her I didn't feel like I could really talk to her any more, these past couple of weeks.
But in the end, nothing got sorted out, and I left in tears nearly a full hour later. I just wanted to know why. I wanted to come out of the appointment with things resolved, air clear, but instead I'm still left dreading each 'next appointment'.
She did say that from now on, when she next weighs me, she'll tell me if I gain or lose more than 2-3kg (i.e, outside the range of normal fluctuations). I'm pretty sure we agreed on that when I first met her, but whatever. It doesn't matter much now. I still don't even see the point in her weighing me any more.
It's been a hard week, this weekend in particular has been painful. I'm not quite ready to write about it but I'll try again another day. It feels like everything just keeps stacking up.
I'm just not really functioning. I don't feel like I can do much at all. I don't know what I'm doing. I can barely keep track of the time or what day it is, let alone all the shit flying around inside my head.
This week's felt like a bit of a crisis. It's just been passing the time and getting through each day - each hour, each moment.
I've been coping in any way I can think of that won't land me in hospital - both positive and negative.
I'm smoking too much
Staying up all night
Journaling a lot
Taking advantage of my meds
Going for long drives
Self-harming in ridiculous ways to avoid cutting (the safe A&E isn't 24/7, after all)
I'm trying to be mindful
But also fasting this weekend out of some sick obligation I can't quite put into words. It's nearly religious.
I don't see the GP until the 19th, at which point I'll see the dietician once more before she takes six weeks leave (well, four weeks off, one week on, two weeks off). I still haven't heard from the MHN, and it's still a while before the new referral goes in (my GP was actually going to scope out the clinic and even take pictures for me, so it's not a completely new-and-terrifying place to go, so her intentions are truly good).
And thank you guys for the comments on my last post, so, so much. I never forget how caring and understanding you all are, but it still amazes me every time I read what you all write.