Next week I am working a shift for a coworker, so he worked on Tuesday for me. This gave me 3 days off in a row. Not going to lie... for the first 2 I pretty much didn't function. I saw my psychiatrist Tuesday and there was a lot of awkward silence because I didn't know what to say. So I just waited until he asked something. I planned to get lunch after and go to the grocery store. As is typical these days, I did half of that. I ended up just going to the store and having Starbucks as lunch. Proud of myself for ordering a full calorie caramel frappucino and not a light since I was basically considering it a meal. Although, I don't like their whipped cream so got it without.
It ended up being really a stressful shopping trip. First, the person working at Starbucks was seriously yellow.. like total jaundice. Her skin and eyes were so yellow. I don't know why it made me really uncomfortable. Probably because I am slowly drinking myself to death these days. Then I was stupid and didn't wear a belt with jeans I know are too big, so I am trying to juggle a basket of groceries, a drink, and pull up my pants every 30 seconds. Finally, I ran into a woman from school. I saw her and tried to go to another aisle to avoid her, but then she came to that aisle. She's very nice. She was always such an anxious person, and I was the one in the lab she got along with. She was a bit paranoid. The last time I saw her was I was invited to her wedding. I more or less got her a job when she graduated by recommending her to a friend that worked at a lab. But I didn't want to talk to her. She asked about school and I could have lied, but I was honest about quitting. She asked about work, and I told her about my job.. it was just generally awkward. Finally, she said she would let me get back to shopping. I purchased my odd variety of groceries (pedialyte, frozen lemonade cups, popsicles, and orange soda).
I went home and slept most of the day. I did finally get up and go to McDonald's to attempt to eat a meal. I managed maybe half before losing motivation and going back home to drink. Wednesday was almost entirely spent in bed drunk and watching Netflix or asleep. I went out to get lunch and ended up getting it to go because I didn't want to sit in a restaurant. I spent most of the day napping.
Today I woke up not feeling well. I honestly couldn't decide if I was still drunk, hungover, or dehydrated.. or likely some combination of those. I ended up staying in bed until almost 3 before going to see my parents. I honestly considered coming clean to my mom about everything going on. I really just wanted to walk in and hug my mommy and tell her how scared I am. I wanted to tell her that I can't function. My apartment is a mess. I don't think my body can handle the way I am treating it. I am so tired of throwing up. All I want is to sleep and drink. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell her.
Then I was embarrassed because all I ate for lunch was half a donut, so by dinner time I felt so sick. I asked to go to a particular pizza place for dinner. I couldn't even finish 1 slice because I was so nauseated. I said my stomach was upset because I knew it was obvious that I wasn't eating, and I felt guilty. Saturday I went with my family to an Irish music festival (Got to see the Town pants who are seriously one of my favorite bands. The song the name of my blog comes from is theirs). I had to basically ask that we eat after one show (Burning Trad who were also awesome) because I had terrible heartburn. Then instead of going for dinner after with my mom and brother, I ended up just asking to go home because between my stomach problems and so much walking, I was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. So tonight when I said I felt I'll, my mom asked if it was like the other day. I said yes. I blamed it on allergies and such, but I imagine they know that alcohol is involved. So I managed to eat about half a slice of pizza and some salad (which honestly didn't taste right.. the lettuce was super bitter) and was briefly afraid that I would vomit on the table. Managed to not be sick until I got home. Barely managed to carry laundry up the stairs. I honestly considered leaving it in my car until tomorrow, but that just seemed too pathetic. I made it inside and threw up dinner. I have since managed a frozen lemonade cup, which also tasted off? Like seriously I hate that now in addition to generally feeling ill and having no appetite, I also don't seem to like foods that I previously enjoyed. I am trying to eat more because while I don't know if I have really lost weight, I have obviously lost strength. I was pretty sure I lost weight until my stupid psychiatrist asked if my weight was ok on this medicine. I mean I know Seroquel can cause weight gain, but surely there's a more tactful way of handling that if you know someone is a recovered bulimic. He has before made other rather triggering comments, which is probably partially my fault because I have asked before if medications would cause weight gain, but his question made me start doubting my perception of my weight. I mean when I got home I didn't even have to unbutton my jeans. I could basically walk in and they would fall off. But now I'm convinced that they stretched out or were always this loose. I just am terrified to step on a scale. I don't need to find out I am wrong and have gained when I am physically struggling to eat and drink. I am having to consume liquid calories and full fat and sugar foods because I honestly think I would have to crawl up the stairs to my apartment otherwise, and I am relying on pedialyte to fight the dizziness.
So yeah.. not doing too well, and I don't know how to fix this.
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