Things are pretty cr*p at the moment. My PhD is hard and horrible and my deadline is stretching further away from me as the more I do the more I realise I have to do, and all within the context of me not really knowing what the point of the project is or what exactly it is I’m trying to achieve (aside from getting some semblance of a thesis together so I can get it the hell out of my life). I’m gaining weight and it won’t seem to stop and my body image is rubbish. I’m trying to get back to running but I’m slow and it feels awful and therefore I’m not getting the positive experiences from it as I used to. I don’t have time to see my friends so I feel guilty about that all the time, but really I’m quite happy not having to be around other people and have to pretend to function. I’m tearful a fair chunk of the day and it’s lots of effort to not start crying at inappropriate times.
I feel like I’ve been betrayed by recovery. I thought sorting out the food stuff and gaining the weight would mean I would be better able to manage life and enjoy it. I thought it would help with my mood and stress. I trusted my counsellor that gaining weight and changing behaviours was necessary and a positive step. And yet, here I am just obsessed about food in a different way, still hating my body and feeling more out of control than ever.
I know this is probably a phase and it will pass, but it still sucks while I’m in it. I bought into recovery as being tough but worth it, and it’s really hard when you get to a stage where actually it doesn’t feel worth it. I honestly think things were better when I has the bubble of my eating disorder to protect me, at least I felt I was managing some aspect of my life. I can’t seem to make my counsellor understand how I feel about this, she keeps dismissing it and it is so frustrating, so I have no one to be honest with about this.
Sorry for the negative rant, I just needed to let it out.