You Have Come To The Right Place ~ (Sixx: AM)

Chapter Eight

JAMES'S P.O.V:

Day Twenty-Eight

I've been here for a full month now... It's weird how time feels like it's flying, but it's also dragging at the same time... The days go by slow but the weeks add up and end up going by fast...

Honestly, I feel like the days are just blurring together. Every day is the same... It's full of the same shit, at the same times, with the same people...

5:30am - Wake up, vitals, get weighed
6:30am - Go back to sleep (or attempt to)
8:00am - Have breakfast
9:00am - Force meds and vitamins down my throat
10:00am - Drag myself to group
11:00am - Sit through a snack
11:30am - Another group
1:00pm - Have lunch (and try to not have a breakdown when i see a menu switch from Eliza)
1:45pm - Run to my room to hide (and cry)
2:15pm - Force myself out to go to another group
4:00pm - Attempt to sit through another snack without having a breakdown
4:30pm - 6:00pm - Free time (aka: isolate myself and do absolutely nothing but ruminate and obsess... very healthy, I know!)
6:00pm - DINNER
6:45pm - Sit though a quick check in group to process the meal (always a fun time!)
7:00pm - 8:30pm - ISOLATION NATION (or visiting hours... and phone/media time... but even then... I usually don't take advantage of it)
8:30pm - Force myself to take a shower and hope to god that I don't have a body dysmorphia induced panic attack when I'm in there
9:00pm - Last snack of the day
9:30pm - More meds
11:00pm - Bed time... (or for me... night time torture by my brain)

And of course in-between all of that, there's the constant dread and anticipation of individual therapy sessions, dietitian meetings, and talking to Dr. O.

Everything is the same every damn day, and things aren't getting easier, despite what I'm being told.

"It'll get easier, James. I promise you... The more you do it, the easier it will get."

Sure, maybe physically I'm doing better... My vitals are way more stable than when I got here, I'm off of fall risk, and my weight is improving... All the things that are supposed to be happening are happening but because of that, other things are getting worse. Mentally I'm feeling worse.

I've been here a month and things aren't getting any easier. They're getting harder, and I'm sick of them getting harder because it all felt hard enough when I got here!

Now I'm telling myself that the first week here was nothing!

Even though Rachel is making me acknowledge my accomplishments, it doesn't make any of it easier! Yeah, I've opened to her more, and I've participated more in groups, and I've been completing all of my meals and snacks but that's the thing...

Those are hard things to do.

None of this is fuckin' easy, and I didn't think it was gonna be, but my god... I hate this part of recovery... I've always hated this part.

The only reason I remotely knew how this experience was gonna be was because of my history with drinking. I was using alcohol to try to self-medicate my Bipolar Disorder, and it obviously was a maladaptive way of coping, so that's when I decided that it would be in my best interest if I stopped...

It was not easy.

It felt fuckin' horrible because taking that away meant I was gonna have to sit with all the emotions that I was trying to escape and run from. I couldn't numb them out anymore. I couldn't avoid them... I had to just sit with them, and figure out new ways to deal with them...