November Blue

That little motherfucker called bulimia tried to hijack my dinner. Whoa. Where did that come from? I’ve been doing so well lately and haven’t even really had the urge. Maybe a few thoughts here or there but nothing of significance. And then, wham! I get bodyslammed and jackhammered by the urge while I’m eating. I fought it off (am quite proud of that as fighting the urge once it arises is not a well-developed skill) but it was about a 45 minute wrestling match on this brown sofa. And then the restricting negotiator part jumped in to mediate a truce – “okay, you can keep dinner as long as you skip breakfast and lunch tomorrow.” Well, Howie Mandele, I say NO DEAL! I will keep this dinner and eat again tomorrow morning.

Here’s the thing: I’m very anxious. All this time on my hands and emptiness in my home and my heart feels unbearable. Like being a passenger on a hijacked 19 hour flight to who-knows-where-but-you-fear-it’s-not-gonna-be-a-tropical-paradise and you thoughtlessly wore an itchy wool sweater for the journey. Like my brain is thrashing around in my brain like an rhinoscerous with insomnia. Like my fingers took speed and just need to type and fidget and flip and pick and move and destroy and shake. OCD is back (thankfully it appears to be situational and thereby easier to understand and face than a full-blown personality disorder). The checking, the endless 837 mile per hour thoughts, the hooking repetitive impulses, the restlessness, the cleaning, the order, the feeling overtaken in my own body. It hasn’t been this noticable since summer of 2007, also the summer of bulimic dispair. First and foremost, the two do NOT have to go hand in hand. Sure, the OCD sets the stage but I cannot let the behaviors start again. I’d rather have Gmail take away my account for obsessive checking that hinders other traffic from accessing their site  than be sick. So I can’t let it go down that road.

I know that these feelings deserve some therapeutic attention and some understanding on my part of where they come from and what they need. But individual therapy is cancelled the next two weeks (thank God for group) and I’m not sure how effective I am on my own with this stuff when I’m so blended with it.

So in the meantime, here’s what I know:

things that make it worse: endless several consecutive hours at home alone, the computer, the TV,  big chunks of unscheduled time at work, social isolation

things that make it better: moving my body, time with my dog, reading (picked up a good novel at the recommendation of a good friend), talking on the phone, going out for coffee/tea, podcasts, music, sewing/crafting, blogging (which, unfortunately opens the laptop to other repetitive wastes of time)

I think I’ll leave early for group – there’s usually a couple of very good people early to chat with. Then home to read. Turning off the computer now. Like actually powering down for the night (my poor computer never gets time OFF, only SLEEP – frequently interrupted sleep). I think I can I think I can…right after I check my…NO I think I can I think I can.