As you’ll know if you read my previous post, I had a really successful morning yesterday and felt pretty damn good. Today couldn’t be further from that!!! I umm’ed and ahh’ed about posting this but I thought “I have to! When I’m well into recovery or (fingers crossed) at the end of it, I want to be able to reflect on the journey, which includes the bad and good”. So here’s my day today, a bad day, the worst in a while.
Let me ‘paint you a picture’… I woke up this morning, in my comfy, cosy bed. Next to my absolute pride and joy, the little life I nurtured and brought into this world. The sun was shining, the birds were singing. I had every reason in the world to be happy this morning but I just couldn’t conjure up my smile. Instead I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept, I was dizzy, weak and my legs felt like they’d seen me through 3 back to back marathons! My mind was fuzzy, I couldn’t think straight and was generally a bit all over the place (I walked out my room and turned right to head to the bathroom – which is in fact left). Still I managed to make it into the kitchen, made my boy his breakfast (a coffee for myself to give me a bit of energy for the school run), we brushed teeth, packed bags, shoes on and we were off.
The walk to school was painful. Physically and emotionally. I have been really struggling to walk at times. I tell my legs to go but they’re so reluctant and it has been such a huge effort, as well as them being in constant pain and feeling a bit jelly fish like! Emotionally, I paint a smile on my face, try my hardest to interact with my mummy friends at the school and that we pass on the way, despite the fact I just want to keep my head down, shut the world out and crawl back home and under my blankets! The time it takes to walk to and from the school seems to have doubled, very frustratingly. Anyhow I made it back home and flaked on the sofa, which is where I stayed until about 20 minutes ago (2pm). I’m an organisation freak, I love a to-do list (sad I know – but hey!) so I have loads of bitty jobs to do but they can wait until tomorrow. I’m convinced I’ll have miraculously gained strength and fight over night (this runs through my mind every single day), rarely, if ever, is it a reality but definitely wishful thinking at its best and that’s half the battle – right?!
Anyway 2pm comes, I’ve caught up on all last nights TV as football is the only thing allowed on the screen of an evening at the minute (anyone with football mad kids/hubbys/partners will feel my pain), I have slept (had planned on, and set an alarm for 45 minutes which somehow turned into almost 2 hours), the leg situation hasn’t improved, I feel really down in the dumps and no idea why, there’s no specific reason or thing that has upset me. I am absolutely fed up to my core of this stupid ED (I know it’s the root cause for all the mentioned pain/emotions), so I decide I’m going to go and waddle like a little, frail penguin into my kitchen and make my breakfast/snack/lunch which was a pot of porridge. And it’s at this point I realise I need to write it all down… I was sat porridge pot in front of me, mixing in the boiling water and tears running down my cheeks. I felt fear, exhaustion, frustration and I was disappointed in myself. You’re probably baffled and thinking something along the lines of “what did the poor porridge do to you? Or how can you be scared of a pot of porridge?”. Honestly, I have no idea.
I want to eat the porridge, I don’t want to be stuck in the rut of this disorder, I need strength to pick my little love up from school in 2 hours, I know the consequences of not eating and how things will end. Yet I’m scared and anxious – my chest is in pain from the anxiety, my tummy hurts from the hunger of not eating and my emotions are all over the place! I couldn’t pin point exactly what it was that I feared so much to bring me to tears – was it the fear of weight gain? Maybe. The fear of giving in to food? Possibly. The fear of feeling full or losing control? Very likely. But exactly what, I don’t know. I felt ridiculously overwhelmed and the pot of porridge has been sat next to me ever since. I have, however, been ‘picking’ at it whilst writing this, so I guess its not all bad and the blog is actually helping! But that initial hit of all these feelings and emotions was in stark contrast to yesterday.s
I thought it was important to highlight the difference between just 2 days and how quickly things can change, how unpredictable the ED and depression can be and the harsh reality of a ‘bad’ day. The day is only really just starting, I’m now mentally preparing myself for the school run and the big bundle of energy that is my son and physically, just about to take all the pain relief I can to try and make the walk a tad easier. I want to shift this cloud of depression that’s lingering over me today, for his sake more than anything but I’m still trying to figure out how!
I have an awful lot to learn on this road to recovery, you’ll have to bear with me. I’m determined to get there. For now though, whilst finishing this post off I have actually defeated the porridge (bet you never thought you’d hear anyone say those words!). ED 0, Caitlin 1!