YChristmas has finally come, and more importantly, gone. It was a mostly uneventful day. I'd had another terrible night's sleep and was up at 2am, and despite trying to get back to sleep, my head was running and I just couldn't.
I've taken charge of organizing food for Christmas for some time now. Due to last year's breakdown on Christmas Eve, involving the raw garlic and thyme roast chicken I'd just just stuffed and trussed being thrown across the kitchen, followed by a mini overdose, my mum does not want me cooking my signature roast any more. Looking back at my old journal, she told me the next day that the only reason she didn't call an ambulance was because it was Christmas Eve. It was not my finest moment.
Mum never really made roasts. We'd usually get a pre-cooked roast chicken from the supermarket the day before and reheat it as she threw some potatoes in the oven. There was never really anything special about our Christmas lunch/dinner, or the day in general. But having made extravagant spreads for the past six years, it had started to feel special to me. I would spend a week preparing and baking and cooking, and even longer planning.
This year, I still wound up doing most of the food prep. By 5:30am, I was in the kitchen, preparing the menu mum had planned. I was even grinding coffee and whipping cream, and somehow managed not to wake anyone with the noisy appliances.
By the time the family surfaced, everything was ready, and all I had jkmmymmmmmmmmmmmto do was warm the croissants in the oven and cook the pancakes. The table was set, condiments were out, everything was taken care of.
Before cooking, I did presents.u I gave my brother a to et 18 Year Old scotch, and a leather band for his FitBit to match the more professional image he's been cultivating. He doesn't drink often, but he does like his scotch. To my surprise, he had a glass at 10am as I was finishing breakfast. For mum, I gave her a weather station, which is already getting great use in a household of weather watchers. I also managed, through the power of the internet, to source a vintage bottle of Yves Saint Laurent Opium, which was her signature scent until they changed the formulation a few years ago.
Personally, I didn't get anything. But, as my laptop died a couple of weeks ago, my brother has offered to put in for a new one as my present, so at least that's one less stress. It was just horrible timing having just drained my savings on things for my sewing room and Christmas.
As for food? For brunch, we had ham & cheese croissants and pancakes. For dinner, we had a mini indoor BBQ – just sausages, burgers, and steak. I also made chocolate truffles and caramel slice a few days in advance. I did eat some of it, though I'd be lying if I said the majority of my calorie intake didn't come from alcohol.
I got a text from the dietician on Friday, wishing me a Merry Christmas. It made my day. I know they say emails etc. have taken the magic and personality out of sending cards, but to me, it was still special. I'm eternally grateful that she gave me her mobile number. I didn't see her last week, and they were closed this week, but I'll catch up with her next Tuesday.
All in all, there was no major disaster on the day, unlike previous years. Maybe next year I'll be allowed to cook my roast, especially after still doing all the cooking this year.
It was only the next day that things really started to go downhill, something that still hasn't lifted.
Mum left in the afternoon for an impromptu overnight trip to surprise her friends. I shut myself inside, closed the curtains and doors. I revelled in being able to smoke cigarettes on the couch.
I went overboard with exercise. Across three sessions, I did two hours of walking laps around the house. Just like I did in the Clinic, albeit a much smaller loop. Even at 11pm, I kept going to burn off everything I'd eaten. The next day, I walked for two hours again. Since that first day doing loops, I've been making it to 10,000 steps a day, which isn't the easiest thing while confined to the house.
After walking, I spent most of the day gaming. I started getting distressed, and over the day I took 9.5 oxazepam. I slept a lot. I couldn't keep my eyes open, but I justified it to myself as keeping me safe.
Recently, my head's started planning another overdose, despite my GP's lecture. Laxatives have been on my mind a lot lately, with strong urges nearly every day. I can't stop the intrusive thoughts, and it feels like it's only a matter of time. I think about the oxazepam stockpile that's slowly been building due to missed dosages here and there. I was in ICU after 20 oxazepam, and I have just as many in my stockpile. I don't want to risk my GP refusing to prescribe them any more, though.
Yesterday, I was having constant thoughts to overdose and self-harm. I was tossing up between drinking or exercising to keep myself distracted. Result? I did both. I walked laps of the house, listening to music with a glass of red. I drank half a bottle and was quite tipsy by the end of my 45 minute walk. I never drink that fast. Maybe I should walk and drink more often.
I've been drinking less recently, which I suppose is a good thing, except for the fact it has been a huge part of keeping my weight stable the past 6 months or so (although, admittedly, that is one of the reasons I've cut back). After I stopped smoking synthetics (6 months, 3 days, and counting!), I started drinking two, three times a week or more. Now, I'm down to once a week, and when I do, I drink a lot less than I was. This week I've admittedly been drinking more, although hopefully I'll get back on track in the new year.
There's no doubt that my stresses, with food and weight, the OD & SH urges, the trauma issues, have gotten worse since Christmas, despite the day itself going relatively smoothly. I don't even know why exactly. Maybe the fear of a new year? I really don't know.
I hope that you all managed to get through the holiday unscathed, and maybe even enjoy it.
See you in 2017...