No, I’m not burning, cutting or raging … but anxiety is closing me in and I am again binging and purging. But the purging isn’t working out much, so there’s lots of guilt and shame. Closing in on myself.
In counseling, we’ve changed directions a bit, on my request, from some DBT to cognitive behavior therapy. I want to look at my perceptions of myself and my world. I’m again feeling like I’m being told that I’m not what I thought. (Don’t really feel like going into that right now though.) Instead of looking at mindfulness and distress tolerance, I’ve started talking about what’s missing. Words that I don’t even want to utter out loud. I haven’t burned or cut in a long time, but I’m back to doing what I’ve spent the most number of years doing … binging and purging. So secretive, so personal, so difficult to get to succeed any more. My body rebels and I fail. Fail.
I find my body getting very still, to watch around me and see if I’m being noticed, my thoughts heard. I’m getting ready to go on a week and a half driving trip. There are questions I’d like to ask as we have this time alone together. But I cannot, unless I want us both to regret it. So I’m locked in silence and the silence is crushing as it intensifies. Sabotage? Fear, loneliness in the midst of togetherness