Diary entry: 13th December
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"I don't know whether to go to this interview tomorrow. I'm not quite sure why I applied for it in the first place. Yes I am. To justify what I am doing with my time. To show people that I am doing something. But in some ways I am using it as a distraction from facing up to what I really need to do. Even if they did offer me the job I wouldn't want to accept. I don't want to trail over to Oxford every day to do something that I feel I should want to do when I don't need to. In this state, I wouldn't employ me. I would be better off spending the time concentrating on getting myself in a better state of health so I can discover what I want to do rather than going through the motions giving a pretence of normality. I haven't got the strength and energy, not to mention the brain power to prepare myself properly for the interview tomorrow. It would also provide me with a perfect excuse for skipping lunch.
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Mr. Springall asked me if I had considered tube feeding. Not surprisingly I recoiled at the idea. Tubes down my nose? I don't think so. But apparently you can have a tiny tube directly into your stomach that just feeds you overnight. It could be a way to get some extra calories without having the angst of having to eat them. I keep saying I want to be able to wake up and be better - could this be a short-term solution? It is not as if I would do it instead of eating.
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Another thing I have noticed I do is delaying mealtimes. This is a perfect example - I'm writing this when I should be having breakfast. Surely it would be better to get it over and done with and give myself more time to digest it before the next one. Is it just force of habit? If I put off having something then I'll only have to wait a shorter time until I can have something else. But that is totally cockeyed. Is it because I am hoping that something will happen that I can use as an excuse not to eat after all and the more I put it off, the more chance there is of that occurring? It really doesn't make any sense and I must start sticking to set mealtimes and start training my body to want food at regular intervals. What am I waiting for?
As if by magic the phone rang. Message from Hannah checking that I was OK for lunch as she needs to be in Stony Stratford. Big dilemma. It opens up several possibilities. I could say no, I need her to be with me and have to endure a bowl of increasingly cold soup. Not a bundle of laughs but preferable to the dining room at Cotswold house surrounded by the delicate aroma of cold sick. It was truly foul and I can't remind myself enough that anything, however uncomfortable, is not as bad as that. I should probably remind myself of everything I would miss if I did have to be admitted. Personal freedom and space for a start. My own bed, and even more to the point my own bathroom. I think that was one of the worst aspects of the Priory. That first evening there when all I wanted to do was feel hot water raining down on me and what I got was cold and spitting. Not only that but having to share it with other people - the long black hairs entwined around the shower head, the having to wait while someone else was in there, the locking of the bathroom for an hour after mealtimes. I know they had to do it for those who were that way inclined, but honestly, the indignity of having to whistle to the nurse outside if you really were desperate. There are so many things I would have to give up - we have such an amazing lifestyle and I am incredibly spoilt. But I digress. Option 2 is to kid her that I have got lunch organised then revert to type and not have anything. Tempting, obviously, but too easy., Don't succumb to it. Why would I do that? How could I possibly benefit from that? But why has it even occurred to me? Who would I be hurting? No one is going to suffer apart from me. So that's a 'no' then. On to the only sensible option.
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Although that fulfilled my desire to delay breakfast a little more, it served another purpose. I phoned Hannah back and got Nikky which gave me the opportunity to talk to someone about how I felt about the interview. She is completely right, I am in no fit state to accept a job even if they were mad enough to offer it to me. There will be others, and at least it showed me that someone thinks I am worth interviewing.
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Back to breakfast, albeit delayed. And I resisted any temptation to cut any corners literally and metaphorically.
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Am I just kidding myself and everyone else that I am doing this? I still don't feel like I am being totally honest. I want people to think it's going according to plan but there are still so many 'issues' associated with food and eating that I have to address. I'm worried that even once I have gained weight they won't be resolved. I'll just have to find a way of living with it. It is always going to be part of me but it doesn't have to control me. I feel so empty. Not physically but emotionally, like a yawning chasm inside. I want to be on my own but I also feel so alone. Like there is nothing there, nothing where it should be. I can't let myself get down but I can't just put a brave face on it. Or can I? Perhaps by pretending I feel OK, I really will. Maybe I can just keep acting until it comes naturally. Why can't I be honest with myself? Why don't I know what is right? Or should I trust my own judgement? Why shouldn't what I think be right? Why should everyone else know better than me? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to eat, I know that I have to get through this. I can't keep putting things off. If not now, when?
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It's uncomfortable just being alone trying to analyse your feelings but it is something I have shied away from doing. I would do anything rather than write anything down. Once it is in writing it is real. But do I really feel the way I feel or is this all navel-gazing. Who knows? (and more to the point, who cares?) Catharsis."
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'Whether you believe you can do a thing or not, you are right.'
Henry Ford
