The Appointment

My appointment was at 3pm. I made sure I was in work mega early so I could leave in plenty of time to get to the hospital and find the clinic. I was ridiculously early, and ridiculously nervous. I had been fine all morning until I parked up, then I started to panic and wanted to run away. However, I composed myself and headed to the clinic. The waiting room was empty so I took my seat at 2.45pm and clock watched. Other people started turning up to their appointments and they all looked much worse than me so I began to feel like the fattest person in the world AND a fraud wasting NHS time. 3pm came and went and then, at 3.10pm I was called through…by a very familiar face. It was the same psychologist I saw about 6 years ago, the last time I had therapy. This REALLY unsettled me and made me feel even more of a failure being back in the same situation SIX years on. However, it actually worked out better that I knew her and she already had all my background from before AND, more importantly, I knew I got on with her. When she asked me to speak, I couldn’t. I burst into tears (something I am desperately trying not to do now). I found it really hard to talk and all the things I had rehearsed so well in the days and weeks leading up to this appointment went out of my head. I felt like a lost little girl again, scared of the future and what it might bring. Not wanting to let go of a part of me that has ruled my life for at least the last 17 years, probably longer, and yet knowing I have to in order to get on with my life. Eventually I composed myself and began to tell her of my recent struggles and my current situation. Telling her what I tend to eat on a typical “good” and “bad” day was incredibly difficult but I did it. I was honest and true to myself, no matter how disgusting listing the binges made me feel.

Once I had finished pouring my heart out to her, she started to talk of my therapy options. There were ones I had tried before and ones I hadn’t. We came up with the idea of group therapy which is a much more practical approach to recovery and something I have never done before. It looks a lot more suited to my “doing” nature as opposed to the more theory based treatments. It sounds a lot more positive than other approaches and involves 12 sessions lasting one and a half hours once a week led by 2 psychologists. Then, a 3 month individual follow up one-to-one with a psychologist. However, before I am allowed to be put on the waiting list for the next set of group sessions, the psychologist had to go off and discuss my case with her colleagues to make sure they agreed this was the best treatment plan for me. So, it was back to the waiting room once more.

I waited about 20 minutes before being called in. Once again feeling like the biggest person in the room but trying desperately to ignore these thoughts as everyone is different and all that.

I sat down in the consultation room and the psychologist said her colleagues agreed that group therapy was the best option for me. However, there is “up to” an 8 week wait, which translates as there is an 8 week wait! Nevermind, I am in the system and have a plan. Also, if I don’t get on with this form of treatment then I don’t have to carry it on they will find another therapy that works for me. It seems they are more willing this time to invest the time and proper effort in me (which (I obviously have to match by sticking to my treatment plan) to make sure I rid myself of this horrible illness once and for all. There is also help for my husband if he wants it, a monthly carers meeting and they offer sessions for couples and family members if you want/need them. Something, a bit further down the line will be useful I think. People forget about the other halves in these struggles and my husband puts up with A LOT. I promise to reward him soon(ish) though when I am better and living life to the full with him by my side!

The REAL fight starts NOW.