Treatment is SO much harder than I remember it. It’s day four and I’ve already had to drink SEVEN boosts for not completing meals. My therapy session today turned out to be a mini-team, where I had to sign a behaviour contract. Some of the highlights:
I have to eat 100% in program, and 90% outside.
I am not allowed to have a blanket any more.
I am not allowed to bounce/shake my legs.
No laxatives, diet pills, or diuretics.
Exercise only as approved by the dietitian.
No alcohol use.
And, as an added bonus, my therapist is making me go to AA meetings. I have to attend one both Saturday and Sunday this weekend and have to get signed off that I attended. Furthermore, I have to find a sponsor in the next two weeks. Which should be interesting trying to explain to a potential sponsor. Since, you know, I’M NOT AN ALCOHOLIC.
This week has been tough. I don’t want to be around people and I don’t want to eat. I want to crawl under a rock and disappear for a week or two.
And I’m seriously wondering if I’m going to be back at my job in six weeks. Or at all. That thought alone fills me with too much grief to describe.