Tag Archives: school

Weary

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This first week back in treatment has been hard. I got hardly any schoolwork done, I ate meals and snacks every night with strangers, I’m overwhelmed with trying to follow my meal plan and not binge-and-purge and catch up on homework and deal with my emotions and everything that treatment entails.  Now I’m on my own for the weekend and I’ve already purged 2 meals today and so want to binge and purge tonight. I am weary. I am tired from the week and from treatment. I need time off. I can’t wait until the semester is over.

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Back in the saddle again

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Wow, it’s been a couple months since I posted last! I’ve been SUPER busy with school. My human anatomy and physiology class in particular is trying to kick my butt!

I’ve been in recovery limbo the last couple months. Issue with my insurance kept me from starting the evening intensive outpatient program like my psychiatrist wanted me to do after I left my ex and started spending all my free time binging and purging. School has helped reduce my binge/purge episodes, but I’m still struggling. Last week, my psychiatrist wrote a letter to my insurance company, and this week they FINALLY approved me to start the EIOP. So, Monday I will be starting back at the EIOP. I’m dreading it, and I have no idea how I’m going to get all my schoolwork done, but I know I need this right now.

Success!

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I’m still really struggling with binging and purging, though I did manage to cut down on the number of binges and purges a little today. That also means I was able to cut down a little on the amount of laxatives I took, since I take them after each time I purge. What I’m happiest about, however, is that I somehow managed to get 100% on my test today. Despite all the binging and purging I’ve been doing instead of studying, I still managed to eke out enough studying between binges to do well on my test. I’m still behind in my other class, but I have a couple weeks before my first test to catch up. I’m just treading water here, but I’m surviving and that’s important.

Struggling to focus

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I’m really struggling to focus on my nutrition class this weekend. This week’s topic is weight loss and it’s really triggering me. I’m trying to power through it, but it’s really hard. I find myself wanting to just skip the reading and take the test, which I would probably fail. (Or pass, who knows, maybe all my years of focus on weight loss has taught me enough to pass the test.) I just don’t want to do this section. I don’t have a choice; though, so I keep going. Slowly. In small, measured doses.

A mostly uneventful day

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I had physical therapy this morning. PT means I leave with my legs like jelly. I called for my ride to pick me up and realized my legs weren’t working the way they were supposed to as I tried to walk out of the hospital. Still, I went to the store afterward. I slowly walked into the store and picked up my prescription for my fibromyalgia and a spiral-bound notebook to take notes for my classes that start on Thursday.

By the time I got home, my legs were so stiff and sore that any movement was a chore. And thanks to the fibromyalgia, the leg pain soon spread to the rest of my body.  By early afternoon, I needed to lie down because I was in so much pain, so I took a nap.

I didn’t hear from the eating disorder clinic today. I’m hoping tomorrow. The waiting is killing me. I may call tomorrow if I don’t hear anything.

News

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Well, I didn’t go to DBT group or therapy this week. I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time going.

However, I do have some super exciting news! I’m officially going back to school! I’ve decided to go back to school for nursing. I’m all registered for classes for this upcoming spring semester.

I hate phone calls

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I hate talking on the phone. I hate making and receiving calls. 

At the moment, I have to speak with my school advisor every week by phone to check in and make sure I’m maintaining progress. 

I hate it. I start dreading it the day before. I start having thoughts like, “Maybe I can ignore it. Maybe I’ll pretend it didn’t ring through. Maybe I can say my mom’s phone wasn’t working.” So on and so forth. 

Panic twists my stomach into the tightest of knots once the phone actually rings. Reluctantly I answer. 

When the call is over, I experience a flood of relief knowing that terrible task is done for one more week.