Valour
Doing something you really don't want to do, because it must be done.
I went to the hospital today for my penultimate appointment with my therapist - until the follow-up sessions in a few months, that is. We're reaching that stage in treatment where I just have to go off and do everything I've been taught to do, for the reasons I've been taught to think about. Only one session left, and then I'm on my own. And then, something a bit unexpected happened.
I was telling my therapist about how much of a struggle life has been lately, and how recovery has been especially difficult because I don't really have any motivation to live. The psychiatrist I saw yesterday had told me that now isn't a great time to start any other treatments (depression-related), because the break from ED-specific CBT works best if it's a break from everything. I disagreed with her, but went along with it. Anyway, my therapist asked me what I wanted, and I said I wanted treatment for the depression. The psychiatrist thinks drugs are enough for now, and frankly, I think she's wrong. Not just because I have no faith in medication any more, but because this despair runs deeper than just a low mood. Luckily, my therapist took my need for depression treatment more seriously, and agreed to help me get some.
The trouble is, it's hard to get any kind of therapy for depression when you also have an ED, because therapists think you're outside their speciality and don't want to take you on. So, the upshot is that it'd be easier to get some attention for my depression if I'm not also on an ED course - which meant, basically, that we finished today. We finished today officially, and scrapped the last appointment we were going to have together, so that I can move on to depression treatment.
So that's it. My CBT at the hospital is finished. I'll have those follow-up sessions I mentioned, but that's not for ages. I am, from now, on my own.
And the thing is, I have to keep my eating under control, because if I don't, I won't be able to target the depression so effectively in whatever other therapy I end up getting. In a way, I'm quite glad of that - it's a solid reason to try and eat properly, which I have definitely not been doing for the last few days. When I have no other motivation to recover, that's a good reason. I mean, ok, I'm not very motivated to get depression treatment, I'm just going because I recognise that I can't carry on on my own. But however you slice it, eating sensibly is now a necessity, even more so than it was before.
I honestly have no drive to get better - either from depression or from the ED. I just want the whole world to fuck off and leave me alone. And now, there's going to be a lull where I'm getting no treatment at all. But I've been told what I have to do. And I know I have to do it. That's all. I just have to do it.
Doing something you really don't want to do, because it must be done.
I went to the hospital today for my penultimate appointment with my therapist - until the follow-up sessions in a few months, that is. We're reaching that stage in treatment where I just have to go off and do everything I've been taught to do, for the reasons I've been taught to think about. Only one session left, and then I'm on my own. And then, something a bit unexpected happened.
I was telling my therapist about how much of a struggle life has been lately, and how recovery has been especially difficult because I don't really have any motivation to live. The psychiatrist I saw yesterday had told me that now isn't a great time to start any other treatments (depression-related), because the break from ED-specific CBT works best if it's a break from everything. I disagreed with her, but went along with it. Anyway, my therapist asked me what I wanted, and I said I wanted treatment for the depression. The psychiatrist thinks drugs are enough for now, and frankly, I think she's wrong. Not just because I have no faith in medication any more, but because this despair runs deeper than just a low mood. Luckily, my therapist took my need for depression treatment more seriously, and agreed to help me get some.
The trouble is, it's hard to get any kind of therapy for depression when you also have an ED, because therapists think you're outside their speciality and don't want to take you on. So, the upshot is that it'd be easier to get some attention for my depression if I'm not also on an ED course - which meant, basically, that we finished today. We finished today officially, and scrapped the last appointment we were going to have together, so that I can move on to depression treatment.
So that's it. My CBT at the hospital is finished. I'll have those follow-up sessions I mentioned, but that's not for ages. I am, from now, on my own.
And the thing is, I have to keep my eating under control, because if I don't, I won't be able to target the depression so effectively in whatever other therapy I end up getting. In a way, I'm quite glad of that - it's a solid reason to try and eat properly, which I have definitely not been doing for the last few days. When I have no other motivation to recover, that's a good reason. I mean, ok, I'm not very motivated to get depression treatment, I'm just going because I recognise that I can't carry on on my own. But however you slice it, eating sensibly is now a necessity, even more so than it was before.
I honestly have no drive to get better - either from depression or from the ED. I just want the whole world to fuck off and leave me alone. And now, there's going to be a lull where I'm getting no treatment at all. But I've been told what I have to do. And I know I have to do it. That's all. I just have to do it.
