Today is Day One. Every day is Day One, I suppose, or at least has the potential to be one. The first day of a non-smoking scheme (never for me, mind. I'm a terrible example- I really do love a good fag), the first day of a new job, a health kick, a relationship or, hell, the first day that you choose to wake up happy and extend your love inward. Oh my God, sorry, that was a bit drippy. Maybe I've had too much therapy. Excuse me and forget that- that's almost enough to lose me my British citizenship. Stiff upper lip, pip-pip, old bean.
Today is Day One of my new food regime. I had a Very Big and Extremely Scary (sorry for all the capitalisations here. I swear they're all completely necessary) meeting about my eating, yesterday. It was probably a lot bigger and much less scary than my capitalisation implies. I walked in from a cig- terrible example, see?- and into a meeting with my psychiatrist, doctor, occupational therapist, nurse, social worker, dietitian and Ginge. In the course of the meeting, the head chef (a role that sounds far more grand than it actually is, I'm sure) and the ward manager also joined the fun. I don't like talking about food with one person, never mind the 79 of them in the room. It actually really just ended up with my psych having a go at the staff and me demanding credit for the fact I've gone from quite a dangerously low weight a few months ago to the borderline healthy one I'm now at (thank-you, thank-you, I'm very definitely bowing).
I told them I needed to be remembered at mealtimes, rather than me being missed and my Anorexia being fed. I told them the types of food I'm eating and the portion sizes need to be normalised. In short, yanno, I just told them to do their job. I mean, right fair, they do have their strengths here. Just turns out, feeding people with EDs isn't one of them.
And so today was Day One of the Brand New Very Big and Extremely Scary new plan. And it's gone... well, it's gone. Dinner went ok, but then the stress caused a flashback. Not exactly the desired outcome. It turns out I'd forgotten how feeling like I'm being forced to eat makes me feel a bit violated. I dunno. It's messy. And so that was midday, so what about tea?
The grand tradition of this place, tea was forgotten. Oh, it'd be laughable, it really would, if this wasn't my life.