So it was my birthday yesterday, and my gosh have I had a lovely few days celebrating. On Friday I had a house party at my uni house in Nottingham, which was so much fun. Everyone was on form, and I had such a lovely night (ending with a delicious big fat pizza). My housemate made me the most incredible lemon drizzle cake (which I had copious amounts of for breakfast on Saturday) and they bought me a gorgeous bracelet and an essential oil room diffuser, which is just so up my street, I love it! Then I came home to Manchester ready to go out with my friends from home. We went for a delicious Mexican dinner, and then went bar hopping around the Norther Quarter… Again such a great night! And today I went out for lunch with the family and stuffed my hangover face with a huge Sunday roast (after which I then came back and devoured more cake… my sister made me an amazing dark chocolate and peanut butter cake and the most incredible avocado cake). So all in all, it’s been a pretty fantastic birthday weekend. I am so incredibly grateful for both my family and my friends. I genuinely don’t know where I’d be without them. In fact, I’d been planning on writing a post about exactly that until I hit the wall again this afternoon. Why is it that when everything seems to be going well, that suffocating, stomach churning feeling of darkness always seems to find its way back. to me.
After lunch, we went to my Grans house to pick up some photographs to take to the funeral service tomorrow. To be honest, none of it has felt real up to now. I said goodbye, held her hand, and gave her a kiss in her hospital bed once she’d passed, but it still hadn’t sunk in. I suppose it was being at the house with neither Gran or Grandad there that made it hit home. Gran would always be in the living room or pottering around in the garden, or Grandad would be sat on the edge of his seat watching the horse racing or working on something important in his office. But now neither of them are there. They’re really gone. I’m not usually one to outwardly express how I feel, but I just sat and sobbed my heart out this afternoon for the first time in a long time.
From that point on, it was just a downward spiral. My mind went into self destruction mode, as it usually does, and I started questioning what I’m doing with my life. I’m in my fifth year of medical school and I don’t even know if that’s what I want to do anymore. It doesn’t make me happy. The idea of it makes me happy, but the sad reality is, being a doctor isn’t actually just being a doctor, it’s being a politician, it’s being an office worker, it’s stress, it’s anxiety, it’s working nights, it’s missing out, and it never stops. It’s ruthless, and I just don’t know if I want that anymore.
And my God has today been a negative body image day. I thought I was ok with having eaten the pizza, and then the cake, and then more cake, and then a big fat roast, but then I looked down and saw the colossal thighs I’ve developed, the bloated stomach, the flabby arms, and the double chin. And what did I do? Eat more of course. A fuck load more. What is my problem?!
I have my first appointment with my dietician on Tuesday, and my first appointment with my new therapist on Friday. I’ve not seen a counsellor in a while now and I think I’m about to boil over. I always used to laugh off the idea of therapy, but I’ve come to realise how useful it is for me. To be able to offload (kind of like I’m doing on here), and to have someone tell me that it’s ok. That it’s normal to feel and act this way when you have this disorder and suffer with depression. So I’m looking forward to that.
Sorry for the rambling, but all in all I guess I just feel sad. I feel a little lost, and I’m not quite sure when these feelings are going to go away for good. All I can say is how thankful I am for my beautiful family and friends. Without your support I wouldn’t stand a chance.