two hundred forty eight

[a post of substance]

i know my posts are often vague. but they say what i need to say and can be applied to whatever i need them for. this one's not so cryptic. it is simply what it is and i'm okay with that.

in order to reestablish a smidgin of accountability in my life, n has me doing a food log in which i need to be signed off by whoever witnesses me eat. it pretty much sucks. but she didn't think i'd be able to do it, so here i am getting my meals signed off on an (almost) daily basis. super embarrassing. especially at work. fml.

i've also been going to group more often- as in making the 40 minute drive like 3 times a week. killer on the gas tank. last night i was sick of making the drive and paying the money that doesn't seem to be giving tangible progress, and thinking of all of the incredible clothes, and shoes, and handbags that could have been enjoyed with all of the dough that's been dumped into treatment of my "condition." the hospitalizations, inpatient treatment, residential treatment, day patient, intensive outpatient, normal outpatient sessions, group therapy, individual therapy, dietary sessions, blah blah blah... so sherla drove me down in order to make sure i went to process group last night and it was surprisingly good to be there. it's good to be around other people who get it, and who are back in forth and just honest in not being 100% committed 100% of the time.

most of the girls in group are struggling to find out why they do the things they do and have these periods of encouragement for change as they are enlightened with the motivation behind their behaviors. it's a pretty rad feeling. i've been there. but i have been in treatment for the past 7 years and know exactly why i do things, but can't quite figure out why i'd still rather do them than risk the anxiety of failure when i try to get better for good and simply can't do it. so i go through the motions and know all the right lines, i have been better and i have most definitely been worse, and now i'm just here. not going forward, but not really going backward. just not going anywhere.

sherla always asks so enthusiastically "was group good tonight?!" and of course i say yes, because all she can do to help is be sure that i actually show up and i don't want her any more frustrated or discouraged with me. the worst thing possible would be for your own mother to give up on you. group really was good so shouldn't things be getting better? but every time i attempt to explain why things are still so hard she kind of shoots a wall up and just says "okay honey, well just keep going to therapy and group." it's kind of weird because i'm so used to being the one who shoots up the wall whenever i don't want to let a conversation in. thanks anyway, mom.

so i guess at this point i'll go to group, show up to see n, and continue to wait for a miracle that will suddenly make recovery seem worth fighting for again.