This morning was kind of insane.
Team Leader was supposed to take me to meet this new therapist. Well, she doesn’t have a cell phone. It’s a thirty minute drive if the traffic is perfect, and when she hadn’t shown up by 45 minutes before the appointment, I got anxious.
First I called Fake Therapist, but she didn’t pick up the phone. So I called Nurse, who came over and gave me a ride. While we were on the way, Team Leader called–she’d gotten caught in bad traffic. Nurse and I managed to get there only two minutes late, and Team Leader met us there just a few minutes later.
I think the meeting went pretty well. It was mostly me and Team Leader talking, so I didn’t get much of a sense of what the therapist is like. But I didn’t dislike her, and she didn’t seem to be scared off by all the dissociative stuff.
Also, she has a dog! She’s not a therapy dog as such, but she comes in the therapy room and is really friendly. Sweet, gorgeous golden retriever. Having a dog in the office definitely wins this woman some points. Just don’t tell Winston I’m cheating on him with another dog.
I made an appointment for next week, and I guess I’ll go from there.
Then this afternoon, I met with Fake Therapist. She said she noticed at the Christmas party that I’ve lost weight and asked if I was slipping back into the eating disorder.
I looked her in the face and lied.
The lie bothers me less than the fact that I don’t know why I told it. I’m generally very attuned to my motivation for doing things, even/especially seemingly illogical things. Honestly, I just don’t understand this relapse in general. I don’t know why I’m doing any of it. “Because I damn well feel like it” isn’t an adequate answer for me. If I’m going to destroy myself, I want to know why.