Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

...before panic sets in among readers, I am not getting divorced.  It's actually worse than that.  My therapist broke up with me.  I've been discharged.  While I see myself as unfit to walk the streets without any psychiatric treatment, she feels differently.  Actually, that's not a fair assessment.  She believes I belong in a group therapy setting.  I tried digging in my heels on this, just like I did going for out patient therapy and eating disorder recovery, but again, I lost the battle.  Tomorrow I meet with a new therapist to possibly join a group.  It's a new journey for me.  And as my therapist assured me, "change is good."  Yeah, I'll get back to you on this.

Being discharged from one on one therapy is definitely a milestone.  I went from having a total nervous breakdown and denial of having an eating disorder to where I am now.  Now is better.  I breathe more and eat more (slightly).  There are less arguments with my husband and my home is not as uncomfortable as it once was. I think my husband would agree he isn't walking on egg shells anymore.  Don't misunderstand, every meal is STILL an argument or struggle in my home but I've learned to balance it.  I eat enough to make him happy but restrict enough to allow me to not panic.... most of the time.

Sharing my secrets and inner thoughts with a bunch of strangers is about as tempting to me as severing a limb but maybe my current health providers know something I don't know.  I've set up some goals for myself.  The number one goal is to figure out why I know what the right decision is but still decide to choose the one that's going to inflict more pain and anxiety.  I'd like to basically know why I'm always such an asshole.  It would help me out a bit. There is of course a tiny little bug in my brain worried about being threatened, yet again, to be sent to inpatient treatment for Barbie.  Now that the diagnosis for anorexia is changing, I may no longer fall under the non-insurance covered EDNOS and may fall into the completely covered Anorexia Nervosa diagnosis.  Lack of coverage was my excuse for a long time but now I fear I won't be able to hide behind that anymore.

I'm not really writing to talk about my eating (...or lack thereof).  This is more about dealing with a break up.  If you haven't broken up with a therapist that you bonded with, you won't understand but it's similar to losing anyone important in your life.  At the end of the day, she knew things about me that only Dr. Lilijohnson knew.  No one and I mean NO ONE knew what she did.  I trusted her with secrets about my thoughts, feelings and day to day life.  Week in and week out, sometimes multiple sessions, she listened to me and cared about what I had to say.  Never judging me or making me feel inadequate.  If anything, she made me feel normal, but maybe eccentric.  I would have stayed with her forever, but that's not good either.  At some point, you need break away.  We all grow up and move out of our parents house to attempt being adults-- this is sort of the same thing.

She was a VIP.  I doubt I'll ever find another like her but it's time to move on because I'm stuck.  It was put to me that I'm "dicking around." Can't really disagree.  I'm not committed to bettering myself at anything still.  I know what to do but I'm just not doing it.  Hopefully the women in this group can explain to me why.  It nauseates me to think of sharing my issues with perfect strangers but I've done it before so I guess I can do it again--- if they take me. 

My blog has been quiet for months because of this reason.  I'm stuck.  I don't really know what else to do and complaining about it won't get me anywhere.  Although, venting online gives me some relief so perhaps I'll go back to contributing more frequently.  It's tiresome being so fucked up.  Being emotionally drained every day makes you exhausted.  My anxiety eats up any energy I have, which, to be honest is low since I basically only eat once a day.  I guess I just found my second goal: work on eating more.

Living in the world of denial isn't working out so well anymore.  It's time to stop living the life I chose and start living the life I deserve.