Sitting at work today, I once again had no energy to actually get up and run around with my children, plus my laxatives were flooding my system, my boss (the principal) came in and pulled me into the hallway. I had mentioned it to my other boss that I might be missing work, and she told the principal. I am looking into residential treatment in December, they don’t know that, they don’t need to know that, all they needed to know was that I would be missing work for an extended amount of time.
She came in and pulled me into the hallway. She knew that I was concerned about how to go about missing so many days. She informed me I would have to get a doctor’s note, etc. She kept pushing the subject about it being “medical”? and that it was so long, I told her worse comes to worse if everything goes through I can always just give you a two weeks notice… to which she nicely said wasn’t necessary… if it was medical…
It hit me really hard on the way home from work that I am just getting progressively worse.
Last year I would eat Clif bars, bread, eggs, I looked forward to Fall because I got to have pumpkin stuff and my favorite, pumpkin lattes. I tried having a pumpkin latte about a week ago, I freaked out and puked it up. I can’t eat anything that I haven’t physically made, or been made in front of me. I tried to eat a salad at a restaurant and I couldn’t do it. My sister got home from dinner the other day, came over to me and took a drink of my water. That used to not bother me, and it wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t just eaten dinner. I was so worried that something she ate, oil, grease, something, was still on her lips and that I would touch consume it. Now I know this isn’t logical, but I am freaking the fuck out. No Clif bars, no eggs, no bread, no peanut butter. I am going insane. Dinner tonight consists of a cup of tea, a handful of laxatives, and a handful of hydroxycut.