That’s Not Exactly What I Meant

I drank calories last week!  Huzzah!

Of course, at the time I made the goal, I didn’t really intend to drink four beers.  This, coupled with cigarettes and food that has long since been removed from the diet, will cause one’s body to go into shock.  Who knew?!  I drank four beers over the course of five or six hours.  I was drunk.  I was still drunk when I woke up the next morning.

I’m not shocked so much by the amount that I drank, because honestly, I used to drink a bottle or two of wine a night, so four beers over the course of an evening is not abuse in my mind.  I’m shocked because I did not realize how pitiful my body had gotten.  How little it took to throw my systems off.  At one point early in the evening, before I had even three sips of beer and two drags of a cigarette, I blacked out.  While sitting down.

Good thing I also accomplished last week’s goal of making a doctor’s appointment.

As for the rest of the goals:

  1. Talk to counselor about transition:  Check.  Actually, she brought it up.  We’ll start transitioning late July/early August.  I’m still sort of in denial about it.
  2. Discuss with my nutritionist the possibility of adding calories: Ha.  Totally chickened out of this.
  3. Discuss with my nutritionist the possibility of staying vegan: Sort of discussed.  We talked about the necessity of fat in the diet and body and the fact that some of it needs to be saturated, which is mostly animal sources.  I asked if they had to be animal sources.  She replied, “No, but I’m curious as to why you don’t want to eat animal products.”  Touche’. I’m not entirely sure.
  4. Drink calories: Hooray beer!  Actually, it was quite eye-opening to see how level-headed and “normal” I could be about food and life when the anxiety was gone.  I think I may have resigned myself to the idea of being on medication after Saturday night.
  5. Make an appointment with my gynecologist: Check.  But it’s not until July, which does not make my support group leader too happy.  She wants me to be cleared by a physician before I come back to group.  That’s another story altogether.
  6. Update resume’; apply to jobs: Oops.
  7. Make a list of 30 things I’m grateful for: Check.  Did this one night when I was trying very hard NOT to engage in ED behaviours.  Found it really difficult to stop at 30.

Not a fantastic week.  Not bad, not without merit, but not fantastic.

Goals for this week:

  1. Start to take a hard look at my triggers and write them down. I’ve divided them into physical, emotional, spiritual, and relational.  Have I missed a category?
  2. Spend 10 minutes every night going through my day and evaluating what triggers I came across and how I dealt with them. This seems like such a “duh” thing in recovery.  So why did I just now think of it?
  3. Try and remember why I’m fighting. Recovery is worth it, even when it’s hard.  Like right now.
  4. Properly fuel before my race this Saturday. I’m usually pretty good (and ritualistic) about my pre-race breakfast, but if the past few days are any indication, we’re swinging back into familiar territory and pushing the limits of the body.
  5. Locate a picture of a haircut that will not make me look like a boy, but will get rid of the majority of my hair. It’s practically straw, what’s left.  Not to mention the baldish patches.  I have to be in a wedding in 97 days.  This is not going to work.  Short it is.  Speaking of…
  6. Bite the bullet and go get measured for the bridesmaid dress. I have been avoiding this for months.  MONTHS.  I am the worst maid of honor ever.
  7. Do something brave. Like, I don’t know, eat something I really want after the race.  I’ll have earned it, right?

I have so much more to say and so little energy left.  Sleep beckons.

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