It doesn't seem to be anything at work. Oh, sure, I still get stressed out by surgery and anesthesia, and I still second-guess myself at least once a day. But that's pretty standard for a newbie vet, and more importantly, I enjoy my job and the people I work with. I had a day where I felt like the angel of sadness (euthanized 3 pets in 24 hours, told an old lady her dog could have a brain tumor) and that's sad, but that's also quite bearable.
It doesn't seem to be anything with Ben. I love him, and we've been doing some really fun things lately -- new nerdy board games, seeing movies, going to a museum, going out with friends. We've been tired, but happy to see each other. I just got back from Florida from a veterinary conference -- I saw 37 species of bird at the hotels we were at, and went to Harry Potter land!!! -- and it was lovely to see him again after a few days away, so things seem to be going well there.
The problem seems to be internal. Part of it I think is feeling disconnected from my body. I have not figured out how to go to work and how to also work out. I'm so tired when I get home, as it's a 45 minute drive back. And I stay up until midnight every night so that I can spend some time with Ben, so getting up early to work out seems impossible. My body feels heavy and ill-fitting and unlovely. I'm not even as heavy as I was in parts of vet school -- still fitting my size 10s -- but only barely, it seems. I feel tired of eating big meals and having alcohol multiple nights a week but then when given the opportunity I always indulge, I feel as if I 'deserve' it. I don't like that. I should probably start using LoseIt! again to track my food but I feel guilty and ashamed at the idea.
I also feel guilty and ashamed about my picking. It's nowhere near as bad as it used to be but nor I am doing as good a job as halting the habit as I was when I was in therapy. I've backslid somewhat and it pains me to realize there's a scab on my head or a picked zit on my face or a pulled-out hair in my hand. I feel like I am a bad person because of this.
I know that my level of fitness and my current success or failure with my dermatillomania and trichotillomania do not define me. I know it, I know it, I know it. But it still feels like this nagging wound, this shameful shadow on me.
I feel disconnected from my individual hobbies. I did really well with crafting this break but Ben and I are still working out how to do individual things when living together. We have one room for introvert space but it's not set up well, and so we end up spending our time together in the living room, in which case we do stuff together instead of introvert things. I need to get back to my writing, my drawing, blogging, photo editing.
Is that everything? Maybe. It seems so small. It just feels like there is something I should be doing, something I should be trying to feel, and I don't know what it is. I don't know.
And it's a bummer to know there is hardly anyone on LJ who will see this anyway!