I can’t tell you how long it’s been that I’ve been holed up here at home, simply because I don’t want anyone to see my body. I take the dog out and that’s it. I wear a gigantic down coat that covers everything from head to toe. I don’t use the belt, just leave the coat as bulky and loose as possible. It has a flap that I used to think was useless until I found that I can zip it up and flip it upwards to cover half my face, actually up to my eyes, and then I put a hat on down to my eyebrows. I put on a pair of legwarmers to cover my bulging ankles (from edema). I take Puzzle out, then we come in and that’s that. Often, I keep the coat on indoors as well, cuz I’m scared some maintenance guy will show up at the door and barge in. I’ve told you how those guys are. I always feel better on weekends and off-hours. I feel freer. I can do whatever the heck I want and no one will bug me. But I don’t get weekends off from being trapped in body dysmorphia.
When I showed up for therapy not last time, but the time before, with my face covered entirely in a scarf, and wouldn’t take it off for the entire session, my T looked so sad. The corners of her mouth even turned down into a frown when I talked about how I felt about the chubbiness in my face. I called this morning and told her I can’t bear to come in looking like this. I can’t go on a bus today. I can’t go into Boston today. I told her I can’t bear the idea of her remembering me as a fat person. I want her to remember me skinny. When I was skinny, I went out all the time and didn’t worry about hiding my figure and didn’t change my clothes a zillion times because I was worried about covering up certain fat body parts. I just threw on any ole thing. The thing that concerned me most when I was skinny was what really should concern a person when they dress, in my opinion: the weather.
So I called my T. She happened to pick up the phone. I told her how I felt. Like, crappy. She is so nice. We rescheduled for tomorrow.
She said, “We have a lot to talk about.” I wonder what that is. I really don’t want any kind of pep talk concerning how good it is that I gained weight and how I’m still on the low side and have edema and how I should go have my weight checked, blah blah blah…Hmm…Maybe I shouldn’t show up if it’s going to be like that. Another one of her lectures.
There is nothing more shameful than these “weekly weight checks.” Trust me, nothing. I am an adult now so leave me alone.
I wonder if she’s talked to anyone. Like whom? I wonder. Maybe she’s plotted and schemed something to keep me in the system. Day treatment or some other waste of time. She’s definitely been talking to people. Dang.
I need to go back to bed and wake up skinny again like I was before. That will solve everything. Everyone just bug off.