Back from my little NYC excursion, and I am so depressed. In some ways, this is a good sign. At least now I know for sure that it's a good idea to live with my Aunt Sarah until second semester starts. Brookline is suffocating. I mean it. Being at home literally makes it harder for me to breathe.
Everything is set up in New York. I have a therapist and I have a nutritionist there now, so I can cross finding a new outpatient team off my list. That feels good to have that done. Oh, I ended up going with the Psy D. She is much more expensive than the LMFT, but in the long run she seemed like she could help me more.
Anyway, all that's left for me to do now is just finish up treatment here, and then I'm free. I'm free. Wow, that sounds weird to say. It's even harder to imagine though. Although, I suppose "free" is an incredibly relative term in this case. Yes, I'll be free from treatment and monitored meals, free from the confines of the house I grew up in and where for the last 18 months have been stuck sabotaging my own health and happiness. I'm also free from the self-loathing and shame that of course comes with having to be an adult living in your parents' house. I am not however, free of the eating disorder quite yet. Don't get me wrong, I am doing LIGHT YEARS better than I was three months ago when I went into residential. When I first started treatment over the summer, I felt like I was being attacked by my own mind. My thoughts, my feelings, the beliefs I had about myself (fat, disgusting, stupid, weak, pathetic), were all consuming, and the only escape I had from those thoughts was through using behaviors. Now, even though I'm not feeling attacked by my eating disorder any longer, I still feel stalked by it. It's still following me EVERYWHERE. I just choose to ignore it 75% of the time.
The body-consciousness has gotten better. I still hate my shape and my overall size, but at least I don't let it keep me from going out in public anymore. For a while in June I physically wouldn't leave my house unless it was to go to therapy or something. I'm guessing it's gotten better lately because I've lost a shit ton of weight. Not like in an eating disordered way! I just wound up shedding a lot of unneeded poundage once I stuck with a meal plan for long enough. Nothing to be too concerned about yet I suppose.
Tomorrow I start my last week in treatment! Hooray!