I've had a hard week. Truth be told, it's 'cause I'm shit at... oh, what's that horribly clinical term? MANAGING MY CONDITIONS. I mean, I'm getting better at organising my eating disorder. Par example, this last week has been massively bulimic (massive being the bloody word, I have gained weight and I feel disgustingly deformed for it) but my day's hardcore bingeing and vom'ing hasn't started until I got through most of my tasks for the day, HA. It doesn't stop me getting fat, but letting my eating disorder prevent me getting owt done would make me feel even more shit and that would make it harder to be able to write it off as a blip and move on. I've become beautifully logical and methodical, with regards my eating disorder.
But otherwise, I'm bloody shite. I'm a complete and utter prisoner to whichever force is most powerful that day- general anxiety; social anxiety; the pre-cursor to mania; depression; general FUKMALYF, I'M SO FAT shit, et al. I mean, don't get me wrong, my life is good right now. I'm not saying that my life is as ruled by these forces as it was a few months ago, but what I am saying is I don't take responsibility. Even in this paragraph, have you noticed I haven't? I'm very detached from this kind of stuff, I sort of feel like I'm shunted back and forth between whatever areas my illnesses cover and instead of trying to get some footing, I just sort of go along with it. But I need to stop allowing myself to be controlled quite so much and I need to separate what is me and what is the illness.
I'm taking responsibility, but I'm not taking the blame. I am ill and let's be realistic- a bit of positivity or whatever isn't going to do a lot for that. But it doesn't have to be exactly like this. I'm just realising that if I don't want my life is to be defined by hospital trips and hiding, it doesn't have to be- my diagnoses aren't going to stop me living some sort of normal life forever. And although my life now is nearer to normal (well, normal to a student. Fully aware that there's not really a lot normal about the student lifestyle, hahaha) than I ever thought it could be, it's not enough. I think I've worked so hard at fighting the good fight against my ED, that now I want more because I know there can be more, IS more, out there. With the exception of this week, I'm constantly getting better and that's amazing and I want... I don't know how to explain this. I want to see what I can get when I put that much work into overcoming the rest. Well no, not overcoming. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not stupid and I know mental illness doesn't work like that. But changing my reactions, moving the fuck on, in a sort of, 'well yesterday was shit and I wish I hadn't have done that, but AH WELL, shit happens.'
It's hard to get my head around, because it's so abstract. And I'm aware that actions or whatever that look so much like pandering to the illness are not necessarily and what is pandering one day isn't necessarily the next. Sometimes the Anorexia in me has me spend a couple of days in bed, because I'm too fat to be seen, with bottles and bottles of Pepsi Max. And that's obviously a negative and puts me back. But sometimes I get so exhausted and I need to take a holiday from the world, so I take to my bed for a few days with some bottle of Pepsi Max. And that's definitely no negative, because it's how I relax and I feel so much better afterwards. I think maybe I just need to take better notice of my moods and behaviours, to begin with. WE'LL SEE.