Today is one of those days.
I have taken a a day’s leave to work on my PhD, which I guess actually is point one. If I hadn’t have needed to take a period of leave to pause my PhD while ill a few years ago I would still have PhD funding and not be working full-time while I try finish (PhD students can’t access sick pay- you can imagine how well that works given the high rate of mental health difficulties in postgrad students – insert eye roll emoji here…), which would mean I wasn’t using holiday time intended for resting working on my project of doom.
I had a counselling appointment this morning and obviously while I am incredibly and eternally grateful for being able to access services through the university (one up side of student life I guess), it is an hour out of the small amount of time I have to work.
I then came out of the session feeling exhausted, sad and frustrated. I’m doing so well in lots of ways, I really am firmly on the road to recovery, but I am still using behaviours every now and again and it’s painful to unpick them and figure out what happened and what I could have done differently. And when the words ‘that’s just self-control and I can’t help with that’ get spoken in a conversation about eating too many chocolates, you know I’m going to be left feeling sh*t for the rest of the day and definitely need a post-counselling moment in the bathroom to regroup and make it look like I haven’t been crying before I go into the office.
Then I arrive at the office and I’m faced with my snack. To eat or not to eat? Surely if I need to develop self-control I should be practising not eating, but the rational bit of brain knows that probably wasn’t the intended outcome, and certainly not about carrot sticks. So I eat the damn carrot sticks, and then feel cr*p that 30 mins later I’m already hungry again and it’s nowhere near lunchtime.
So, 5 hours from waking I’m already feeling a but defeated and sad and I haven’t even started on PhD work yet, which is also a guaranteed activity to make me feel awful about myself.
Somedays I could really do without having an eating disorder. I could do without the mental drain that it entails and the effort involved in staying well. I could do with the over thinking and the looped thoughts of food, body, exercise, willpower, weakness, shame. So much shame. Sometimes I just want to feel p*ssed off that I ever got this illness.
But I also know the only way out is through, so I have to keep on going through this to get to the point of not having an eating disorder. So I will keep on keeping on. But sometimes I just need to allow myself a little rant! So here it is!