I just had my first session with….. uh, I’ll call her A. When I say session, it’s not CBT yet as I’m still not really coping with life, but it is the first step towards beginning to deal with my eating issues again.
I instinctively like her, which is a good start. J sings her praises (“if my daughter was ill I’d want her to see A”) and there is just something about her I like. She actually really reminds me of T2, so in a funny way it feels like coming home.
Our session was good today and she was asking me questions that made me think, rather than just letting me prattle on (as I am often inclined to do… particularly when I’m nervous). I found it quite hard to think, but it was helpful and already I have agreed to try to start eating four times a day – break, lunch, after school, dinner. She isn’t fussed what, she just wants to see me eating four times a day. I think that I can do that… I certainly will try. This is our compromise on the ‘planning’ section of the book – I am not going to plan specific foods yet, but I will plan to eat at those four times. I like her and I want to please her, so I have a good feeling about this.
A is keen to speak to T about me. I agree that they should speak, but the thought fills me with utter horror. I am terrified that A will make T realise I’m rubbish, or T will make A realise that she doesn’t want to work with me and she’ll leave me. So, I have been thinking about this a lot and decided today to let her keep my journal for the week. My journal is full of every tracking sheet, almost every blog post and every crazy, scary, whirlwind thought I have in my head. It has written flashbacks, drawings of my flashbacks, it has emails from T that touched my heart and emails to M when we were fighting. It is my whole life. When she has it, she will know everything there is to know about me. In Little’s head, this means that if I turn up on Tuesday next week and she turns up too, she will stay no matter what I tell her. If she doesn’t, then I will know that now, and at least I won’t constantly worry for weeks only to then get hurt.
It’s only a stuffed-full journal, but I feel like I’ve handed over my heart. Everything in that journal is filled with heartache and love and struggle and I feel like it is very important to me that she acknowledges the tremendous leap of faith it has taken me. I need to know that she has taken time to read it, but not judged me on it’s contents; I need to feel like she knows me, and will not run. Next Tuesday is going to be a very important day, then.
Please look after my journal, A; but really, I’m asking you to look after mine and Little’s hearts.