I'm returning to work full time in a few days and I can only hope for the best. My dietician wants me to plan everything and I understand her reasoning, but even if I make a plan doesn't mean the plan will be followed. I've been watching myself slip ever so slightly. It takes me forever to finish my meals and when I'm at work my mind goes completely into work mode and I'm never hungry then. The people around me are doing their best to keep me accountable, but there is only so much they can do. And there is only so much I can do.
I texted one of my friends from treatment. I wanted to get some encouragement, reinforce that recovery is worth it. But I found that my friend took a dive after treatment and is going into inpatient. That's scary. Inpatient means hospital, means you fell down the rabbit hole so far that we need lots of rope and light and shovels to get you out. They say it gets worse before it gets better. I'd say going from partial hospitalization to discharge to inpatient is a good example of how that works. I wish her the best.
When I met with my dietician this past week she did a blind weight. To me blind weight means she's somewhat worried. She said my meal plan is already low so if I don't follow it completely I might lose weight and easily slide back into ED's arms. She weighed me so she could get an idea of where I'm at. This is the person who said I don't care what you weigh. Of course she only means that to a point, she doesn't care as long as I follow the meal plan. These appointments are rather blunt and direct. She doesn't put up with any BS, not that I would try to pull one over her, because she knows who she's dealing with: ED.
And he never plays nice.
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