So far, I'm still standing.
Coming home from residential tends to be a giant smack in the face. You go from the safety of the bubble that is a treatment center and you are thrust out amongst the living to try and do things the way they all do. Am I holding my fork right? Did I cut this into too many pieces? Are the pieces too little? Am I taking too long to take a bite and IS EVERYONE ACTUALLY STARING AT ME OR AM I JUST LOSING MY MIND?!?!?!
So, you know. I'm good.
I guess I just need to take stock in the silver linings. The kids are all getting used to a nightly "dinner time" routine. Graham refuses to eat, Emmy tries to steal everyone's food, Anna grumpily stares at whatever vegetable we have chosen for the night. Typical family meal, right? At least we have the idea down pat!
Let's talk meal plans. Why is it so hard to follow a meal plan right when you get out of treatment?? Or, why am I having such trouble, I should say? I like to think it is just my rebellious side acting out after I spent a month and a half following the rules to a T.
Either way, Nutella is NOT a fruit, Sharon!!
Time to put my nose back to the grindstone and keep in mind the things I am fighting the hardest for. I even caught a few in a pretty decent picture together!
Self love, people.
- B
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