Giving me permission

It’s ironic.  I’m in charge of me.  But sometimes I feel like people give me permission to do what I want.

My therapist went through my food plan.  She started to add new things and increased  quantities.  I was like “Phew, I get to eat more”.  How ridiculous.  I can just eat more.  Why do I feel the need for a healthcare professional to give me this permission.  But I feel positive about my response.  I don’t think “Shit, I have to eat more.”  So this is a good thing.

Same with weight.  When I go to my doctor and she tells me my next goal, I get excited that I get to put on weight.  Okay, maybe not excited – but again, like someone has given me permission.  I’ll never get excited about eating, putting on weight and watching my body change.  But what I get excited about it having a life.  Not being cooped up in the washroom.  Not planning my sleepless night and wondering how I will get through the next day.

Today for example.  I have planned out my night.  And it looks like this:

5pm – Pick up the boys from home

5:30pm – Drive to the Promenade for dinner

6:30pm – Go to the comic book store and let them each pick something out

7:30pm – Go home, probably squeeze in an episode of Chopped Junior than get ready for bed.  Showers, snuggles and talk about our day.

That looks a look better than….

5pm – Go home and lie in bed because I am so incredibly nauseous from taking — laxatives three hours earlier

5:30pm  – Go into the washroom and stay there for an hour

6:30pm – Leave the washroom and go back in bed

7:30pm – Spend another hour in the washroom

8:30pm – Back to bed

And so on and so on and so on.

You would have to be a complete moron not to see which is the better option.

I can’t wait for the comic book store!

 

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