So, I was supposed to be off on a few days holiday. Ha. That went really well - Not. Was supposed to be going to Islay with a friend, cycling, having a few nips of whisky, doing some writing and enjoying the scenery. Trouble is, I get very anxious about travel, and like to have everything planned out, but what with work I just didn't have time to get everything straight in my head before, and people said it'd be fine, It'd get sorted out when we were there, and I'd have a great time. I still felt miserable, but I went anyway. Couldn't hire a bike at the ferry port, so my friend had to set out without me while I waited for a bus. A kind lady offered to give me a lift to Bowmore post office, where I had an alternative bike hire phone-number. We got to Bowmore, only to find the post office closed, with no indication as to when it might open again. Kind lady drove me to Bridgend where I could get a bus to the youth hostel in Port Charlotte for about 5.30pm. I managed to get a bike in PC with my final bike hire number and was so desperate to get cycling on such a beautiful day when I'd been stuck in buses for hours. I went straight off, and cycled about 8 miles and back along the coast, lovely road with coconut-scented gorse, but I was really shaky and shivery when I got back, and needed to eat, so I went to the pub where we were going to eat. Ordered a baked potato, but then went to the toilets and vomited up everything I'd eaten during the day (not on purpose - probably because I'd overdone the exercise). I managed to eat some of the potato but just brought it back up again in front of everyone, including my friend who has a sickness-phobia. Got cleared up, drank some water and made it back to the hostel where I vomited up the water and then crawled into bed. Spent the rest of the night lying awake, stumbling out to be sick again, and trying to sip little bits of water that wouldn't make me sick.
Spent the next day in bed, sipping water and feeling weak - so we decided to call it a day and head home. I felt really bad for spoiling the holiday, and for being sick, and for wasting the money we'd spent on booking the other hostels. Because I was ill I didn't feel hungry, so I didn't eat much after I got back. In a way it felt good to have a cast-iron excuse for not eating and for feeling miserable. I liked that I was able to keep track of what I'd eaten, and that worries me, because it reminds me of when I was very controlling of what I ate. Also one of my little cousins is in a residential clinic for an eating disorder now, and that's brought it all back too, as well as me worrying about her.
I've eaten more today, but I had to force myself to, because it's so easy to slip into the habit of not eating, and it feels good when I do, like I'm in control of something in my life at least. I made home-made pizza with my brother's girlfriend, and I ate it, but I feel bad now.
I've not been able to sleep well for the last few days because I've been so stressed and anxious. I just feel that everything is on top of me, and I've got a really busy month ahead, and I just don't want to do it anymore. I don't know what I want to do - I don't know what I CAN do. I feel sick at the thought of going to work tomorrow and I just want to cry whenever I think about it. I can't concentrate on anything and I'm miserable. I don't like change, I know I don't like change, but I just think my life has been one big stumbling from one thing to the next and I don't see the point. I don't even want to scream, I just want it to stop.