First of all, I just want to say a huge thank you to those of you who reached out to me after my last post. I never forget how supportive and amazing this community is, but sometimes, I still find myself in awe at just how much support is out there.
As you probably know, I don't have many friends in real life, friends outside the blogosphere. I can count a grand total of three who I've seen in the past five years, and one of them I'm no longer friends with. It's just so comforting to know that, in the darkest hours, when I feel so alone, there are still people there for me, even if we're oceans apart. You guys are seriously all amazing, and I don't know what I'd do without this community.
The week before last, I had my first appointment with my dietician and GP in 11 weeks, after my GP missed the last one.
As I waited for my GP to get here to walk me to the medical center (part because I can't get to appointments by myself, part as exposure therapy), she texted and asked me to meet her at the corner, instead of at the front door. This had been discussed as the next step, but I didn't know it'd be happening that day, especially after so long since I last went out.
The idea is for me to start walking little bits by myself, and eventually be able to walk there myself. Even though it's not even 100m to the corner of my block, it made me very uncomfortable. But as she was already on the way, and the text came through the medical center's no-reply notification system, I felt stuck, and had no way of cancelling.
I slowly made my way down the path until I could see her at the corner. She routed a way going through the laneways, so I don't feel as exposed as on the main roads. While it's worked okay so far, I don't know how I'd do it alone. The main roads are busy and full of cars and people. The laneways are secluded and I fear something bad could happen. I don't know which is more terrifying.
Despite so much having happened, especially with the ambulance call-outs and police drama, I had surprisingly little to say. I felt a tad sour toward her after not finding an appointment for me in a month – and appointment that mum had actually agreed to drive me to – after the police first turned up and tried to arrange an appointment for me.
It was really good to see my dietician though. I miss her weekly appointments so much.
I gave her the list I've been keeping of what I eat. Some days, it's dinner and a snack, usually fruit or yoghurt, or sometimes a small lunch. If I'm not drinking, sometime's there'll be a second snack. But some days, I'll just have dinner and save the rest of my calories for the alcohol.
Most of my calories come from alcohol – usually around 500-800 a day, or more. Some days, if I don't drink much (under ~200 cal), my intake struggles to reach 500-600. In a way, I use this as a backwards way of justifying my drinking to others. On the days I don't drink (which are sadly few and far between at the moment), my intake is usually around 300-600, sometimes up to 800 if I indulge in something like chocolate or baked goods. Although I still drink wine, most of the time it's cheap vodka mixed with diet orange soda. While the wine does have some carbs, when I just stick with vodka, I get nothing from it nutritionally but pure alcohol.
The only reason for me to stop drinking is for the calories and the weight loss that would come with it. But, as strong as that desire is, I struggle. When I stopped smoking all day every day, it immediately became my new crutch, my way to escape. At least weed and synthetics were kinder to my intake and weight.
I didn't tell my GP, but I did speak to the dietician about the police drama. After telling her about not being able to get an appointment with my GP, she said to always feel free to go in to see her, even if it's short notice. She really is a sweetheart. I had thought about it when the police asked if there was anyone I wanted them to call, but it didn't seem right. Sometimes I wish she was a therapist – she's the only one outside the blogosphere that I can really talk to.
Back with my GP, she asked about the overdoses. The information she received from the hospital didn't specify beyond 'overdose', and she was concerned it was the meds she prescribes me – mainly the oxaezpam – and was wondering if she needed to stop them. But it was my over-the-counter sedatives, which I keep mainly in case I overdose. If I take too many of the meds she gives me, not only could they be ceased, but could also get her in trouble as I've overdosed on them so many times in the past.
She's got no idea what's going on with the Clinic either, but I told her I don't care anymore, that it was pointless and I no longer want to go.
She then brought up the dreaded topic of meeting a new psychologist. There's a few in an office about halfway between me and the medical center. I told her I didn't want to see one, but she's insisting.
"I understand that you're anxious and afraid --"
"It's not fear or anxiety. I just don't see the point."
And it's not like I can get there anyway. She said she'd walk me and come to the first few appointments, but what then? I'm a long way off being able to walk there alone. She said she was going to arrange an appointment and text me the details, but thankfully she hasn't, buying me another month or so before I have to meet them.
On the walk home, she wanted to leave me at the end of the last laneway, nearly doubling the time I'd walked alone to the corner. I panicked, and when she tried to reassure me, I snapped
"I haven't been for a walk in nearly three months – it's too much."
She agreed to come to the corner, but I'm afraid that next time I won't have a choice.
One thing that hit me hard was when the dietician said she was proud of me for still eating at all, with my mood so low and everything that's been going on. Obviously, this makes me feel like a failure and just makes me want to eat less. Since she said it, it's just been playing in my head over and over.