This past week has been horrendous in the sleep department, no scratch that as horrendous is an understatement. Where is that thesaurus when you need one? Oh wait, that would imply people still bought paper based books and didn’t rely upon the all mighty Google for their every answer (yes, I get snarky when I’ve only had 1 – 2 hours of sleep the past week or so) and yes, I frequently turn to Google for answers to things too.
Due to only getting an hour of sleep last night my morning started with sending out a text message to those on my call tree letting everyone know I’m not going to IOP today. I’m sorry but sleeping through IOP isn’t exactly high on my priority list and given my snarkiness I might end up ticking some people off; besides now that the sun is up I can sleep, go figure right?
One of the people on my call tree is of course my therapist, yes, I text with my therapist. Is that really all that surprising in this day and age? I love texting and it’s my preferred method of communicating with others (actual phone calls is way down on my list and usually those are for only certain people in my life). My therapist of course had to ask if I was doing okay other than the not being able to sleep and being my usual honest, open self, I told her no; that my relationship fell apart this week, I cut Wednesday night, and my ED is out of control. (I really need to learn to filter my thoughts better). This of course lead her to be rather insistent that I go to IOP today and that she’ll pull me out to meet with me sometime during the morning. The only problem is I had already told my ride not to pick me up today, I still had the problem of only having an hour of sleep, and now I was being stubborn about going to IOP because I didn’t like being told to go to IOP (my insomniac brain at work here).
Since I refused to go to IOP, told her I was not hiding at home, but had had a bad week she then insisted I contract with her to be safe. Great, just great; when I’m not all emotional and rational I’ll contract to pretty much anything but once the emotional me takes over those contracts tend to not be kept. I told her I could contract to not attempting to commit suicide, but that I could not contract with her about cutting or eating; again I am being completely truthful with her…guess I will never learn. So now, I have a telephone session for later this morning.
I hope she doesn’t push the whole contract thing too much; I’ll contract that I won’t attempt to commit suicide, but I won’t contract to anything beyond that right now. I hope that my refusal to not contract about self-harm doesn’t land me back inpatient again…but only time will tell on that point.
Peace, love, and contentment,