I've put a lot of thought into it, and depending on the day and my mood, I'm going for one of two situations:
- A) she weighs me blind, says nothing, puts the number in the computer to keep the GP happy, and I just keep going off my Wii Weights,
- B) she still blind weighs me, but tells me exactly how much I've lost since she last weighed me.
- I weighed in on the Wii Fit that morning, so theoretically I know I've lost X.Xkg since then, so this would be out of sheer curiousity.
Either way, I'm not in a place right now where knowing my exact weight would be helpful in any way (not that clothed/coffee-d/awake for 4+ hours will be 100% accurate anyway). I know it's probably confusing and seemingly pointless, but weighing in on the Wii (...even less accurate) and just being able to tell the different from 1/3/6 months ago is enough for now.
I don't know about the 6-weekly thing though, or if I should just leave it until my GP really pushes again.
I don't want to get into it too much, but I said I'd explain why the outing didn't (and isn't about to) happen.
I think things have reached a point where I don't feel comfortable going out at all, even in safe and rare situations like the past few years.
And I think I've realised that I now need more/different support for leaving the house than mum can provide. It was fine for a while, but when I think about it, the last few outings (including the overnight trip earlier this year) have ended in tragedy. She ends up getting frustrated and I'm left alone to deal with the stress, and I cannot cope with that right now.
For the first time ever, I feel like any ventures out would have to be professionally guided. I just feel so lost and scared and stuck. I don't know where to even start. I do want to try to get out to visit my Great Aunt & Uncle soon, which is easier than going out in public, but with my Uncle's health, I need to wait for my chest to clear up first.
I don't want to use the word 'low', but it feels like another step. I've written before about how agoraphobia isn't black & white, and has progressed alongside other anxieties for the majority of my life. Even in the last few years, there have been big steps.
At the start of 2013, I stopped going to the supermarket, my last safe place.
Last year, I made it out a total of nine times in twelve months.
This year, I'm losing my sporadic outings and my safety in the car.
Shortly after I posted a few days ago, I got a call from my GP. I panicked, unable to talk on the phone, worried about what she was going to say to mum. Mum went to hand me the phone, and I reached out to get it, but hesitated, freaked out, and was overcome with an urge to hang up or throw the phone into the garden.
She took it back and put it on speaker. I could never do phone calls.
My GP had my bloods back from that morning, and apparently they indicate an infection. She asked if I've been feeling chesty, which is always a yes, but especially with the depression and staying outside of a night at all hours to smoke, I thought it'd been building these past few weeks.
She wanted me to start antibiotics straight away because it can escalate quickly. Thankfully she always has me keep an extra box in the house just in case. But I've been feeling pretty physically crappy and haven't wanted to do much more than lie on the couch, so excuse my severe lack of things to write about.