I see the dietician this afternoon. You’d think that my anxiety would decrease eventually the more I saw her but it doesn’t seem to. One of these days she is going to ask me to get on the scale and the idea of that terrifies me. I was supposed to talk to her about being able to ask me the tough questions directly last week which I failed to do. I am hoping that the medical social worker talked to her about it for me but that is kind of a cop out on my part.
I really blew it in a couple areas the past couple of days so I really don’t want to have to get on the scale. Yesterday I went to a bar with a friend and had two drinks and a appetizer. While that may not seem like much to most of you it was a huge splurge to me. My diet mainly consists of fruits and veggies and some protein and limited carbs due a gluten free diet. (Now you know why I was drinking the Red Bull…) While I still chose a relatively healthy appetizer it was a far cry from my usual low calorie salad and soup I usually eat.
I, also, blew it after my therapy appt on Friday because I was in such a frustrated mood and feeling like “screw it.” I made poor choices regarding my behaviors that day out of anger.
I have kept my eating disorder pretty much a secret the last several years since being in treatment for it originally when I was younger. I thought I was passed all of these issues and didn’t need to bring it up with anyone since then. I guess I was wrong. I do believe in accountability but it is sure uncomfortable when you are used to keeping something secretive and hidden so that people don’t interfere with it. It was a hard decision to tell my friend about it in the first place, and an even harder decision to choose to tell my treatment team and make the steps to work a dietician a month ago. I wonder if I will be able to be honest enough sometimes to do this.
This week, on Thursday, there is an eating disorder support group in our area that meets once a month for free. I have the information about where it meets and at what time. I knew about the group before I relapsed hard early in May. I am scared to death to go. My anxiety about trying new things is kicking in and I am afraid I will sit there and not say a word. My dietician thinks I really should go but fear is such an overwhelming feeling. I just need to pull the verse out of Timothy (Don’t ask me if it’s 1 or 2 I can’t remember right now) It goes something like “I have not called you to a spirit of timidity but one of power, love and self-discipline.” (Para-phrasing mine.)
Here’s to hope being a more powerful emotion than fear.