Yesterday was… challenging.  

It started off at 8:30 with an appointment with Dr. S.   
I was weighed in and lost a couple of pounds from when I saw her three weeks ago.  (A couple of pounds isn’t a big deal.   That could just be clothing or water weight.  It wasn’t like I dropped ten pounds or even five.)

Fortunately, she didn’t quiz or nag about food.    Instead, she took me off Ambilify, a mind drug, and said that if I couldn’t calm down by the next visit, she would find someone to prescribe me beta blockers.  

Beta blockers are, according to Google, reduce hypertension and lower blood pressure.    Apparently, given how agitated and anxiety-riddled I’ve become, she’s afraid that my heart condition could be agitated, a contributing factor to my weight loss, and stopping me from sleeping. 

Although, I think the reason why I’m not sleeping well is because of the weather and the cat.   The cat’s pestering at 4:30 on most mornings isn’t helpful.   Although I try to go back to sleep after that, I’m not always successful – like this morning.  

After Dr. S, it was off to see the Case Worker, Ashely.   This was about an hour’s drive from where I was examined, reamed, and raked for some various soft spots in my psyche.  Chiefly, this is my apparent and total lack of coping skills, eating difficulties, relationships, and Christmas.   Although the Christmas topic was just a cloak for not being able to have children and cancer that came along with it.   To my credit, I * really * tried to listen to her.    A lot of what she said clicked – as the eating was a symptom of being out of control of nearly everything in my life – and I need control.   Some sort of control as I’m still, despite what others may think, have some self-assertion and instinctively react adversely to attempts of control and being unfairly (or what I consider to be unfair) imposed on me.  (F*ck groupthink, societal norms. and unreasonable customs.)

This lasted for nearly three hours until I actually had enough. 
I started pacing the room.  I picked up my gloves and phone from the desk.   She had set another appointment for next week.   I was ready to go, frustrated, agitated, and just full of anxiety-ladened riddled energy.  In my head, I had planned to go to the gym for a couple of hours to try to calm down before heading back to Jason.   I didn’t want him to have to put up with me, highly stressed, critical, and irritated.   It would be much better for both of us if I was mellow and somewhat calm, if not docile.  

But, she asked me to observe a group therapy session that was about to happen and might ‘help’ me. 
Wanting help and wanting people I care about to get the fuck off my back, I agreed to stay.    If I felt like it could potentially be helpful, I might join.   I don’t know but I’m trying to keep an open mind. 

Ashley the Case Worker didn’t stop there. 
She circled back to my sincere and apparent lack of coping skills.   She knew that I was exceedingly agitated and told me to ‘cope.’    

Now, take deep breaths!  
This is a safe space and you can work on coping skills right now.   
Focus on an object.  Think of a calming song.   Ground! 

And I just lost it.  
Well, nearly lost it.   
I didn’t yell, scream, or cry.    I wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.   

Instead, I politely verified the time of the group session, asked if I could leave, and walked out the door.   
I paced the parking lot until it was time for the session and headed back in where, thankfully, she was not there.  

Sitting down in the back of the circle, I really tried to listen to what was being said by the participants.   
They seemed open and had been together for a while – which made me doubt how a new person like me would fit in – but I like stories. 
Each of them had a story I started to piece together.  

This was around 4 pm, probably.    So, I’d been driving or in a type of therapy for eight hours and was still going strong.  
Although, I desperately wanted to exercise and maybe… just maybe… have a rotisserie chicken salad from DQ.    It was either that or Mancinos.   
But, after the day I had, I was going to try to ‘improve’ and bypass the gym, treat myself to a salad, and head to the house. 

— Side note, 
I NEVER buy myself anything for lunch or dinner.   
When there’s a fully stocked fridge with perishable items, Jason * still * not being employed, and with my limited income, I see eating out in nearly any form as a form of sacrilege.  
But, given the time and the crappy day I was having, I compromised.  
No gym, but I would eat out.   It would be a treat.  
—  Very reasonable given the circumstances I thought.  

Then, mom called.  
I was in a group session and ignored the call. 
Strict rule – no phones.  
I forgot to turn off the ringer. 

Before I could, she called again.   
I ignored that and started receiving some harassing looks from the group. 

Jason texted asking how I was. 
Mom texted stating that was ‘coming for me’ because they were worried. 

And, again, started seeing red.   
Flames surrounded my thoughts, mind, and probably my physical brain.   

I KNOW they were probably worried – mom definitely so.   
They know I hate the cold, have been reacting poorly to the weather and had a difficult day.   
The polar vortex – the once-in-a-generation storm – was supposed hit at any time — although it didn’t until well after dark.   Probably around 8 or 9 pm.  

I KNOW all of this and appreciate it but… as Ashley repeatedly said…  BOUNDARIES are important.  I have zero coping skills. 
I need some space.   I need control.   And not going to the gym, buying myself dinner, and not heading home immediately like a good little girl was a form of control. 
I did not NEED to be at the house for anything and wanted to spend a little time to myself.   Away from Jason.   Away from everything.   I just wanted to hide and think for a little while.   

And, I couldn’t.   
Once mom said that she was sending Jason after me, it just shattered.   
Not my world, but a good part of it.    

I felt like I wasn’t trusted.  

And THIS is one of the reasons why I only tell mom the bare minimum.  

In an attempt to be open, I TOLD her that my brain was going to be toast today because of the therapy.  

She didn’t have to pry it out of me.   I was trying to be more communicative with her about what was going on in my life and sharing what I knew would be difficult.  
— And, instead of realizing that I had already been through multiple days like this and came out okay (for the most part), her concern calls and text makes me feel enclosed and suffocated.    
Any type of potential boundaries I tried to set was invaded and violated.   

Despite being in a group session where phones are FORBIDDEN, I started texting Jason to stay home.   I DID NOT want him chasing me down.  
I tried to politely and caringly tell mom to BACK OFF. 

The moment I got out, I started driving home. 
I was not in the mindset of food or anything.    I just wanted to satisfy their needs so, maybe, I could get a little peace.   
Which, I guess, proves I have zero coping skills and boundaries, like what Ashley was saying.   

I ranted at poor Jason for a while, who never had any intention of hunting me down, as mom said he was going to. 
Rather, he had his own POS day.   We compared notes.  While I think I came off worse, his day was difficult.   

Eventually, I calmed down. 

No, not really.  
But, reached a point where I could sleep despite the cold, wind, and the increasingly achy joints from the vortex kicking up outside.

Yes, I did eat some. Eventually.
I know that it wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing.
I needed control. If my brain associates eating as having no control, having anything after this day was a win.

Look, I know everyone was concerned.
I love them for it.

But I did not want their interference.

And I don’t know where I’m going to go from here.
If I could get out of Christmas dinner and the bull that comes along with it, I would.
– But, that would hurt the family and wouldn’t be fair to Jason if he went alone.

So, I’m reamed.
I’m raked.

I’m trapped.