This Is It

I feel fat, but my therapist is always telling me that fat is not a feeling. I still don’t comprehend her words. I think that real feelings are foreign to me. I had a bad scare with my nutritionist last night. She received my labs from the hospital, and I knew that my heart was skipping, and blood pressure and potassium low, but she said it was so low and I was so dehydrated that my kidneys could shut down and make my heart stop beating. That was a real wake up call to get my shit together and start eating. Since I've been home, Dave has been making me sit down to eat lunch with him. He also wants me to drink V8 Fusion for breakfast. I was eating dinner most of the time even before the hospital, so that hasn't changed. The first day home, I tried refusing to eat, but Dave came over and sat down next to me, and told me that it really wasn't a choice. He said he was sick of continually going through this, and that he was afraid that I was going to die. I couldn't even get angry at him. He is right. It's not fair to my family to have them watch me slowly killing myself. My body has not ingested this much food in quite awhile, and it's causing my stomach a lot of problems. I'm also very stressed and anxious about eating so much more than I'm used to. I really felt happy with my one small meal a day. Last night I almost cried about how much my stomach hurt, and also about the increase in my food intake. I'm so afraid that I will get fat, when I was just beginning to feel comfortable about my weight. Once I go back to work, which is this Monday, my choices for lunch are to drink a Boost supplemental drink, or have Dave come eat lunch with me everyday. I hate to have him do that because I only get a 30 minute lunch, and also the school that I work at isn't very close to our home. It would really be such an inconvenience to him, so I will drink the Boost.
I'm glad that I took this week off of work. I got out of the hospital on Monday, and I started the out-patient addiction recovery program Wednesday evening. It is three nights a week for about four weeks. I'm also still keeping all of my other therapy appointments, and also I will start working with a new therapist who specializes in Dissociative Identity Disorder. On top of all that, I still have to work full time. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything, but I'm also determined to do the work that is involved in recovering. I have so much ahead of me, but last week I didn't even care or want anything to be ahead of me. I must do this. I'm not giving myself any other choice. This is it.