I think I'm becoming bulimic. Seriously.
I snacked during the day (and no, I'm not proud of it) and then made myself a real, healthy meal this evening. I ate, and then promptly and copiously horked it all up until I felt better. That sounds like a classic definition of bulimia to me.
Like I need more psychiatric conditions in my life.
On the bright side, if this becomes a habit (and it's happened a few times now), I might actually start to lose some of the huge amount of weight I've put on because of my medication (which I take in a very haphazard manner, I must admit, so it may not actually be the cause).
But saying that makes me sound anorexic. Another psychiatric condition.
I seem to be collecting them.
Or maybe I'm just a crazy hypochondriac.
On a more positive note, I signed up for an "event" held by some international organisation on 29 October. I mean, I have absolutely no idea of whether or not I'll actually pluck up the courage to go, but at least I signed up for it (and, by then, I might have been given my monthly €200 so I should be able to afford it). I know I need to make an effort in my life, reach out to people, make new friends, new contacts, because the people I already know here in Montpellier (with the exception of Y, I mean) aren't as present as they need to be for someone like me, and the people I really, really feel close to aren't even in the same country as I am.
On the insistence of Dr H, I've started going to the day hospital at the clinic I spent a year in, and so far I hate it (OK, I've only been once, but spending 45 minutes waiting for the "activity" to start and then spending an hour and a half colouring in a repetitive design (like a segment of patterned wallpaper) doesn't really do it for me), hate being back with the people with whom I spent a year, hate feeling like a patient, even if I am.
I've also done some teaching, and I'm not really enjoying that either - for the very same reason that makes me suspect I may not make it to the event on 29 October: being surrounded by people, the centre of attention (albeit briefly), expected to "perform" like a normal person when that's exactly what I'm incapable of doing.
Maybe the real problem is just that I spend too much time alone and am turning into a bitter old hypochondriac with psychiatric problems coming out of her ears.
Can you tell that this hasn't been a great day (week, month, year, decade)?