Under interrogation

I know i shouldn't have snapped at mum last night but before i could stop to think about what i was saying or feeling the words had come out of my mouth.

I wasn't looking forwards to the day ahead yesterday morning, knowing that i was supposed to be seeing my GP mid morning. The prospect of being told you're doing well and managing things so much better than this time last year.....if only they knew. I can't tell anyone though, i don't want to disappoint their fanatasy idea. It may be that i'm able to put on that front again, able to hide it all inside.

but what they don't see - the fresh scars on my upper arm, the breakfast of 2 mandarins before going out to work on the farm for a couple of hours, the lunch of 60g of low fat cottage cheese (50kcal) and mushrooms and 1/2 a bell pepper to dip into it with another mandarin to follow and then the mark on my ankle from the snap of the elastic band to remind be to stop picking at foods from the fridge and fruit bowl etc.

They can't see or understand the thoughts that go through my head; walking down the garden path with a knife to cut a cabbage for dinner and the scenario going through my head of plunging the knife down into my thigh; driving along on the car and seeing myself driving straight into a hedge, tree or wall; driving across a rail way crossing and as i get to the middle imagining the impact of a train smashing into the side of the car and crushing me and it instantly. Are these the thoughts of a normal brain? Why does my brain broadcast these images constantly?

Anyway, i went to work in the fields for an hour, turning up to find i was working on my own as there was no-one else around. I left at 11am to take a break and head for the doctors, only 5 minutes by car. When i arrived the number of cars overflowing from the carpark gave me the tell tale signs that she was running late. The perfect excuse. Just what i'd been hoping for. About 30 mins late at least by my estimation. To fit the rest of my day running to plan i needed to have finished my 2nd hour in the fields by 12.30pm which meant had my appointment run to time i would have been finished by 11.30am. So i set myself a time limit, if the patient that was with her hadn't come out by 11.30am then i was leaving, as there were 2 people still in front of me. 11.30am arrived and i departed.

Back to the fields for an hour, then home for something to eat, lunch for me is what others would describe as i snack i fear. cottage cheese, a small tomato, a few mild pepperdew peppers and a mandarin. Then off to step-dad's office to bury myself into data input and filing there.

Sat in a room on the computer on my own, i couldn't fight back the tears but the sitting still was soon over and i then started sorting about 1000 cards into alphabetical order. Easiest way? sort them into letter piles for surname which meant standing up and moving round the table to reach the relevant pile. almost 4 hours later it was time to leave.

Getting home the snacking demons hit me again and i fight them off with a mug of tea.

Mum gets home, she asks how it went my the doctor. I say she was running late as usual, mum pushes me again seeing that i'm avoiding the question. "Fine" is my reply. Well thats the truth - it was fine because i didn't see her which in my book was fine. Don't get me wrong, she's a great GP i just give up on seeing people because no-one (proffessionals not family) seems to care what's going on, on the inside anymore, all they care about is that i'm acting normal and not trying to kill myself it feels like.

Then it isn't long before the questions are fired again; "no lunch today?" i go on the defensive; "yes! why?!" "just not many dishes, a ramekin and a teaspoon" "so you're saying i'm lying?! what is this an interrogation??!!"

she walks away, saying she's not going to ask anymore, and won't bother in future. We both know that will last a few days, a week at the most.