Earlier today I left work in an awesome mood when I realized this: a little over a week ago, I was sitting in a psychiatrist's office trying not to cry while I described to her the horrible, paralyzing, black hole of anxiety and depression I was stuck in. I'd been crying nonstop for the past several days and had no freaking clue how I was going to make it through the rest of the day, much less a whole summer. I've been depressed before, but this was the most gripping, intense, terrifying episode ever. I've never ever worried about my emotional issues getting in the way of my "real" life before, but that was the closest I've ever felt to nonfunctional.
Obviously now, I'm feeling a lot better. Not great, just better. Steadier. Things are looking brighter again. I started taking a new medication for the anxiety/depression last Saturday, so I've got to assume that that's had some effect. Plus, I love my new internship. LOVE IT. I don't want to leave the office at the end of the day because I'm so in love with my work. That has definitely had a positive impact on my mood.
But. But but but. Why do I still feel so unstable? It's like I can't maintain an even keel for any length of time. I go from curled up sobbing and frozen by misery and fear...to fine. I know I wasn't hallucinating a week ago. I really was that miserable. It was real. But now I'm wondering what the heck I was so upset about, and feeling stupid for losing it. I don't want to believe that the medication is truly working, keeping me sane, because I don't want to be on it and I hate needing it. I probably sound like a broken record on this, but drugs freak me the fuck out and I don't want them in me.
I'm not super happy right now, but I'm okay. I'm not depressed. My anxiety is under control. I can go to work and eat lunch with the other interns, then come home and hang out and cook dinner with my roommate. That's all fine with me at the moment, but I'm scared of falling apart again. My emotions feel so completely beyond my control right now that I don't trust myself to hold it together. I hate being this nervous, skittish, unstable person. I didn't used to be like this.
At the same time, I'm making a life for myself. I have an amazing internship that is both challenging and fulfilling. I have friends who I love and trust. I have the best parents in the world. I'm eating, drinking Boost*, and wanting to recover. Why can't I just be happy and go with it and stop worrying about when it will end? I know that I probably won't ever go back to being the person I was before having anorexia, but I'd like to have some sense of constancy, to know that my mind won't turn on me. Maybe that's too much to expect when I'm still underweight and hugely mired in ED thoughts and compulsions, but I wish it were a straighter road to normal.
*For those of you keeping track, I'm still drinking all Boosts as prescribed!
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