Okay. So far, so good. I have only been out since Wednesday morning. But I feel good. Really good. Positive about life. I felt good about leaving the hospital. I knew it was time to leave and I knew I was very much ready and prepared to face the outside world.
I definitely am committed to staying alive and living as joyfully as possible.
No, there wasn’t a turning point.
Yes, there was. The turning point was when I recognized that I am just plain terrified to gain weight. I realized that I had been so scared in my gut that I had been driven to make myself die rather than gain even one pound.
The surfacing of the fact that I would die for thinness shook me to the core.
Of course, hadn’t this been the case all along? Didn’t I know that if I kept all this up, I would eventually collapse? Such idiocy!
So, boom. My therapist had slapped a contract on me February 17th. I had flown into a panic. Realizing that this was the reason for it all was a huge relief for me. I wasn’t a bad person after all, just a person who reacted in an extreme manner to something that had to be done to preserve my health. I had panicked. I had stuffed my feelings inside. I had not allowed myself to feel them. They pushed their way out. I had expressed them in a grossly inappropriate manner. And I realized this a week ago last Thursday. I have been on the upswing ever since.
Progress does not happen in a straight line. Progress does not happen in a straight line. Progress does not happen in a straight line. Notebook, I make no promises. I cannot promise the future.
Once I got out of the hospital, I felt excellent. Getting Puzzle back was fabulous. We zoomed home. We’ve been zooming around on our walks and listening to loud music.
I’ve resumed work on I am So Cold, and Hungry in My Soul, the novel I wrote for National Novel Writing Month (nanowrimo) in November. It took me 17 days to write that first draft. It’s damned good for a first draft. I’ve been spending long hours at the library and long hours here at home.
Here are the details: Calhoun, the villain, is the strongest character to whom I want to make the fewest changes. May, my protagonist, however, is a weak character who doesn’t do as much as I’d like. She’s too passive. I’ve planned out things for her to do. Exciting things. She’s going to get bold and shock the reader. She’s going to have guts. She’s going to express herself in a more active way from now on, in every chapter. Like when Susie, her sister, goes into Starbucks to get coffee and leaves May alone in the car, May is going to get into the driver’s seat (she has never learned to drive) and drive the car by pure gut instinct down the street. I haven’t decided just how far she’s going to get or the consequences. Each character’s role is going to change slightly.
And like my characters, my role in life is shifting, slightly, gradually. I am committed to recovery, weird as it sounds. I am actually eating more now.
Yeah, Notebook, you’ve heard it all before. You’re probably damn skeptical.
I have set up a strict schedule for myself. Very strict. Down to the minute. It’s incredibly difficult to follow the schedule perfectly so far. I did this before, though, my last couple of semesters of graduate school, and it worked. Right now is my It Notebook/blogging time. I am approaching the end of my It Notebook session. At 1pm I will arrive at the library to work on my novel. The library closes at 5. My finish time at the library is flexible. Puzzle walk time is sunset-dependent and weather dependent. “Telephone time” is 7:30. I have set strict limits on when I can use the computer. It must be shut off at other times. Period. Bedtime is 10:30.
Okay, It Notebook session over. Tomorrow.