Stress affects me, a lot. It’s my biggest trigger for every single one of my mental health diagnoses, and so I find myself blogging, yet again, about my mental health. Once again my posts are making no sense, once again I can barely focus for long enough to write a post, and once again I feel totally out of control. So here I am again, letting you all know that I am fast losing my grip again. *sigh*
Firstly, I’m an emotional eater. My weight has gone up and down with my mood for as long as I can remember, at the moment I am at the lowest weight I’ve been in my adult life because I’ve been happy, now I’ve started uni I am eating, a lot. Since the realisation dawned that I would have to face people my own age, go to a city, have a life, I have been gradually eating more and more and I’m now at the point where even though I feel sick, my stomach feels about to burst and I have devoured everything in sight, I still want to eat.
I know it’s not healthy, I know I should tackle it but at the moment it’s all I have. I don’t smoke any more, I don’t drink any more, I don’t self harm any more, I don’t party any more and I’ve never done drugs. I have no other vice, no other way to get me through this but to eat. I know it’s going to lead to a downward spiral; I’ll eat, put weight on, be more depressed because I’m fat, eat more because I’m depressed and so it goes on, but the idea of having no crutch at all is unbearable so I don’t think I really have a choice.
Not only that but today I didn’t go to uni. I should have, but I didn’t. I got up and then sat, in my dressing gown, for hours until I knew I couldn’t make the train. Worse than that though, I continued to sit there knowing that I needed to go to the post office, because the idea of just going outside brought back feelings of terror that I thought I had dealt with. So I sat, unable to move because if I got up I’d have to get dressed and if I got dressed I’d have to go out. Eventually I did get up, and I took a beta blocker just so I knew that the physical symptoms wouldn’t be a problem, and went out to the post office. You might be thinking “oh, well that’s good,” but I’m not convinced, mainly because the whole time I was out, all of about half an hour, I was terrified, my entire body was tensed and I was on high alert. I haven’t been like that in about a year, not in my home town anyway.
It worries me. It worries me so much that after only 2 days of uni I’ve gone back so far. I’ve spent years getting to a place where I could go out alone to familiar places, where I could function in my own little world, and in 2 days all that work seems to be being destroyed and I’m having to question if it’s worth it. On Saturday I not only arrived at work late, but I left early. In total I spent a hour there because I just couldn’t hack it; it was too busy, it was to exposed, it was too terrifying. I spent the weekend locked in my house in an effort to get over the trauma that those two day caused.
I’m going tomorrow. I did a deal with myself that if I didn’t go today I had to do the whole day tomorrow, but it shouldn’t be like this. I appreciate that everyone is nervous in their first week or so of uni, but I’m pretty damn sure that not everyone is sat at home talking themselves in to going out of the house just because they’re so terrified because they’ve spent a whole 2 days at uni. If that was the case, no one would go. So I’m trying again tomorrow, I’m going to the disabled students office, I’m chasing up my funding and I’m praying that I don’t continue to get worse, because at this rate by the end of the week I’ll be housebound again and I really don’t think I can fight that fear again.