Thank goodness that there’s just one more holiday left – New Year’s.  

Mom and Jason decided to have dinner.  But that’s our typical Sunday.   I guess that’s to be expected although I don’t know who is going to cook. 
I put in a request for miso soup.    I like it, haven’t had it for a while, and it’s not calorie damning.    It’s also fairly healthy if it’s made right.  

After dinner, Bill (mom’s husband) went into the living room and started listening to music with headphones.   Jason started dozing on the couch and I did dishes.  
There was quite a bit.   My siblings retreated to their rooms.   My sister started watching Matilda.  No idea what the brother was doing.   His room was silent so I’m thinking he went to sleep too. 

It was just me and mom for a little while and I told her about Centerstone, what I’m going through with the (multiple) therapists, and how they think I have PTSD, major depression, anxiety, and OCD..   
I talked to her about the eating, feeling out of control, and how chewing gum is a coping mechanism.   I guess I laid everything out and she was notably concerned, but not upset.    She let me narrate, for the most part, and I started to go into more depth when I repeated myself.  

I tried to illustrate how I got here and how this situation compares to when I became anorexic five years ago…. Jason not having a job… the weather…  stress… just whatever connections I could make.   How I don’t have control because I can’t work full time and, if I could, I probably would try to kill myself as I did before.  

After the other day, my gut reaction was to withdraw.   
I pointed that out to her multiple times – that I didn’t need or even want to tell her all of these things but felt that I needed to because I wanted her to be part of my life and the potential solution.   
But, I also warned her not to overreact, smother, or make me feel limited.   A part of the problem is not having control right now and her smothering would just amplify that to the point where I would.. well, I wouldn’t.. or I would just continue to spiral.  

I stressed that this would take time.  Probably a long time.   
I’m sure that my mental pills will change as they already have from Prozac to Abilify.   Now that one has gone away, there’s no telling what’s next.    
Regardless, it’s sure to mess with my head and I won’t be me.   I may not be me for a long time, if at all, for years.  

Mom said that she would support and get me whatever I need.  
She said she wouldn’t call or text.  

I told her that I WANT her to call.   I WANT her to text.   But, just not when I’m in the middle of having a shit day.   Afterward, yes.  But not during group or anything like that.   If I shut off the phone, there’s a reason and she shouldn’t call multiple times and bombard me with texts during.  

Somewhere in the middle of that, Jason came in.   He didn’t say anything but mom acknowledged him and said he was trying.   
A BIG part of me getting better is Jason getting a job.    I’m seriously beating a dead horse here but it is so despairing… aggravating… frustrating… that it’s not happening because I want to become well.  
If not for myself but so those around me (including him) can start acting normal again.   Maybe I can slowly resume my life like the one I was trying to carve out before Jason moved from Florida.  

I’m craving that.   

And now the fridge is ladened with leftovers.   
I’ve got lightly fried chicken breasts, mashed potatoes (the real kind), gravy, roasted turkey, and stuffing.   Jason even has a couple of pieces of spice cake with pecans.  
I have some cooked green beans and carrots which I ate half just a few moments ago.   
I don’t know how we’re going to get through all of that but I suspect a good portion of the meat will find its way into a chili.   That’s what happened to the leftover turkey.  At least the rolls are gone.    
I would have hated to toss them out.   

I guess it’s the best possible outcome. 
We’ll have to see if it sticks to the landing.