Maybe We Should Go Back

Update about health, mental and otherwise

Tomorrow, my Ethan graduates pre-school! How did this happen? It seems like the years have flown by. If five years went this fast, will the rest of his childhood fly by even faster? It's hard to think about.

There's a book called If I Could Keep You Little that we read to the kids, and it always makes me cry. By the last page it has beautifully articulated a parent's struggle between wanting time to stop but also wanting to see your kids grow into happy and satisfied adults, the tension that exists between always seeing them as your baby while acknowledging they're growing up and your interactions with them must adjust accordingly. It's a simple book but powerful between the lines, like a lot of children's literature.

I started to see a therapist again. We do phone sessions because there's no way my ass is getting out of the house by myself these days. I don't know what it's like to be by myself anymore. I like her. She's a New Yorker. Blunt. Almost mean. I need that. Things have gotten kinda bad since I've been out of therapy, and let's just say I finally got to the point where I can acknowledge that. I loved my previous therapist but A. she's too expensive and B. I'm not a Christian anymore, and she is a Christian therapist. It was time to find someone new who takes my insurance, and I'm glad I have.

I am not doing very good health wise, and I guess I should talk about this. I keep throwing up. Like all the time. And I can barely eat or even drink water. I lose like 2 pounds a week and I haven't weighed this little since I was twelve. I can see all my bones and nothing fits and it's scary. The doctor thought it was something to do with a medication I take, and I thought so too because after I followed their advice it went away for like a month, but now it's back. I threw up on Monday and Tuesday and I have barely been able to eat since. Food is gross to me. All of it. Disgusting.

I told this therapist about my past ED because she asked me, and now she is keeping an eye on my weight. I don't think she believes me when I say I don't want this or I don't know why it's happening.

On Tuesday I was driving to work and I stopped to get my coffee at this gas station near the school and as it was coming from the machine I started feeling nauseous. So nauseous I didn't bother putting the cream and sugar in right there like I always do. I just paid and had the lady throw all the creamers and packets in a bag. My plan was to empty the bag and then barf in it.

Let's just say I made it to the car.

That's where I proceeded to barf halfway into the bag and halfway all over myself. R.I.P., creamers and sugar packets. I sat there when it was done, stunned and horrified. I called my husband. Why, who knows. I was crying saying I puked all over myself and, "I don't know why I'm telling you this!" I could hear how crazy I sounded. Then I called work and said I couldn't come in because I had puked all over myself. They were kind enough to get me a sub. I drove home, for 45 minutes, through 2 wrecks and their resulting traffic jams, covered in my own vomit. It was a nightmare. I can handle any bodily functions/liquids/solids BUT vomit. No. I can't handle it. Someone else deal with it. I'm not the one.

Since then I haven't thrown up but I can't seem to eat. Everything is nasty. It's all weird and gross to me. I don't get it. I guess it's time to go back to the doctor...