Today felt like a fight.
An internal battle where the enemy wins.
It felt like therapy today was a waste of time.
The acid in my throat never settled and I felt weak leaving my therapist’s office.
Little-me wanted so badly to be there with her. There are so many emotions needing to get out, right now. It feels urgent. Like if I don’t let them out, I will die because my body can’t handle holding onto it.
Instead I couldn’t let it happen, even though little-me was right there. My dietitian helped her out in the morning just an hour before, despite arriving to that appointment fully encased in my eating disorder shield. I even carried the blanket I used with my dietitian into therapy with me as sort of a transitional object of safety for little-me.
But it didn’t work because within the first 15 minutes I realized I wouldn’t physically see her for another week, when normally I would have seen her Friday and Monday and it reinforced the hollow feeling of abandonment I was fearful of. It’s not that I can’t go a week without seeing her. It’s that once I chose to go back to her office, and chose to open back up the door to little-me’s existence, I needed her to be closer than a week away. I needed her like a toddler needs their secure attachment figure (mother). Will I survive, of course. And, a toddler would survive also, given other necessary things like food and shelter without their mother. But it puts a bit of a strain on it. I almost wish I was still in the mindset that I just wanted a break because I felt unsafe and angry.
As I left my appointment, I silently screamed at the tears begging to pour out. Do NOT cry. DO NOT FUCKING CRY. Just leave. Just get out of here. Ah, the familiar voice of my eating disorder, already managing the intensity of everything.
I can see my therapist needs a break from me.
I am a lot.
I feel like a burden.
My mere existence is exhausting for others and frankly, I agree so much that trying to tell me otherwise is useless. I believe I am too much and both unworthy and undeserving of allowing all parts of myself to exist at any given time, especially the little parts of me needing love and hugs and reassurance.
I don’t have the energy right now to fight through these feelings of rejection and abandonment. It’s like the “repair” of safety to the relationship was too new to allow for natural things that happen in people’s lives (ie. holidays) to happen without sending me right back into despair about it.
It feels like I am failing at life.
I’m not letting little-me exist. I took my childhood bunny from her office on my way out today–upset that it served to coax little parts of me and little pieces of my trauma story out, ever. Upset that I arrived semi-ready to let that happen today, but instead couldn’t get over feeling like a burden, keeping the acid burning in my throat and feeling it spread like wildfire throughout my core.
I don’t have the energy to fight my eating disorder, despite the insight and awareness I have as to why it’s showing up in such a loud way right now. I just don’t, and I don’t want to be told that I have to fight it, or need to fight it, or should fight it, or have the strength to fight it.
I want everyone to fuck off.
And let the chaos take over.
I am exhausted and I don’t want to care anymore.