So, I have an appointment with the Educational Support office at my uni about returning at the end of September to do my course part time and finish my third year over two years. I feel quite frankly sick to my stomach. Not about returning, though that does provoke anxiety but the meeting itself.
You see going back to Uni, feels strange. For one thing many ghosts are there, many memories both good and bad, and a few rather painful. The primary memory that sticks out the most is me being there at my happiest weight of 5 stone. I am now a stone heavier, after forced treatment.
Going to the meeting itself makes me feel like jumping off the next roundabout I see, knowing that the feelings the people at the meeting will catalyse in me will be acutely negative. I always try to,prepare myself for e comments people make when you have not seen them in a while, but each time they feel like a dagger, like taking a bullet, like salt being rubbed Into an already angry wound. I expect to here about 'how much weight' I have put on and 'well done' and 'how much better I look and must feel'.
All I want to scream is 'FUCK OFF, I feel worse not better, I am angry and hateful and resentful and at times suicidal. I have no idea what I can eat or can't eat since treatment triggered the b/p side of my disorder that was otherwise dormant and I have felt has had to continue since coming home and having the food police also known as my parents at my heels. I hate food, I hate what food does to me, I hate how food makes me feel, I hate weight gain, I hate how much weight has been put on me. But mostly I want to scream that this evil moral rape that was projected onto me, was not my choice. Because no person would choose to be made as miserable as I am. The words mental health section were raised constantly throughout treatment, and a mental health assessment did take place; which I passed with conditions to not being sectioned, I.e. staying in treatment. So don't project assumptions onto me about my happiness, about my looks, you don't know me, the hell I have been through and the demons I faced. I. Still have nightmares about treatment now, I wake up a sweaty mess with the fear of food inside me, the fear of weight gain. Better? You don't know the meaning of the word, if you think I am better. I am physically more stable but better, well if you want to go inside my head for a while and be the judge for yourself, go ahead because the torment goes on and never leaves'.
Sorry if that sounds like a massive rant, it is but I wonder, can anyone identify with the anger? With the hate? I hate myself right now. I feel like my identity has been moulded and shaped into an ugly mess.
I guess my question is, how do I get over my anger and hate? Is it even possible to let this go?
Xxxx
