My thoughts are so muddled I’m not even sure what to write I know I just need to get some of these thoughts out of my mind.
I’m trying I’m trying so hard to eat but struggling like mad to. One half of my body wants to and is feeling me to and the other is telling me not to. I’d say it’s more than half telling me not to. It’s such a strong feeling.
So before I got discharged from a and e yesterday I had to meet with the psychologist. He mentioned two words that petrified me and I thought I would never hear. To me I am so far off that that I hadn’t even assumed or registered it might happen. But he mentioned “tube feeding” I flipped. I bit his head off and said I didn’t and won’t need that. Him and another doctor also mentioned I have a bed and we’re talking as if I was going there I was going to Glasgow. This isn’t certain. I was told I had a week to prove I didn’t need it but there speaking like I’m there. I’m not. And I won’t be. I’ll be fine. I’ll prove them. Yes my chest hurts constantly yes my heart aches yes getting up to go the toilet is effort in the middle of the night yes I should be on bed rest and yes I’m freezing cold. But I’m fine. I really am.
I won’t be admitted I won’t. I’ll do this. I fail at everything I’m failing right now. I spent a night in hospital and my parents didn’t visit, text or call. That’s how much I’ve failed. So I’ll prove them. I’ll prove the doubters I can do this by myself. I can live a life of independence going out when I want where I want and not be in hospital. I will.
Maybe if I say I will enough times I will. Less than a week to show them now. Less than a week.
So yesterday was just like any other day. I was meant to be on bed rest. I wasn’t. I was meant to complete a 6 step meal plan. I didn’t.
Instead I completed 1-2 steps of the meal plan, successfully snuck out for a walk and not so successfully ended up in A&E.
I went to see my support worker like I do twice a week. The normal, how are you? Have you eaten? How do you feel? Followed. And then fe weighing, lost again but the lowest I’ve even lost between weigh ins and then the usual obs. Although this time those Obs got me sent to A&E with a heart rate “dangerously low” I still don’t know what this means in terms of me getting better, does this mean I’ve taken a massive step backwards and I’m nearer to that full time bed than I’ve ever been? Or does this mean I just need to take it easy.
I’ve had two bags I’ve IV fluid. Yep. Already googled it. I’m putting in weight by the second. “Water weight” but it’s still weight and I’ve already been crying over it!! Can’t get out of bed easily so no distraction. So it’s been sitting there in my mind all night just like I’m sitting here. Getting fatter by the minute.
I’m fine. I feel fine. I just want my bed and get out of here. I don’t need to waste a bed in here. I just want to be anywhere but here. Anywhere.
So I have a week. One week. One week to turn this around. 1 week to eat. One week to gain weight. One week to show I can do this. One to show I’m improving. One week.
They have a bed for me in a weeks time. In Glasgow. I’m on 5 different waiting lists. But I’ve been told if nothing comes up sooner Glasgow will have one in a week. And it’s mine. So that’s it. The challenge is on. The challenge to stay out of hospital. I have to. I’m not going. I won’t fail any more than I have failed.
Day hospital didn’t work as my support worker said “your too ill” for it to work. I have to be better for that to help. So it’s help myself or hospital. I’ve been prescribed drinks, vitamins and anxiety tablets. It’s all or nothing. Literally. I’ve got to throw everything at it. Everything ounce of strength I have. I need to. I’ve been put on bed rest told I can’t leave the house. I’m adamant I’m fine. I am easily manage 10000 steps a day. I’m fine. I really am.
So here goes. Wish me luck goes. One week. 7 days. Praying the phone doesn’t ring beforehand. Here goes.
I hate being a burden. I hate being a failure. I hate my life. I hate anorexia. I hate this all.
I’m a burden a massive burden and that’s the one thing I don’t want to be. That and a failure. And I’m both. I’m a failure beyond a failure. I can’t even manage to attend a day hospital. I can’t even manage a necessity in life and manage to eat.
I’ve failed my parents I’ve failed my family I’ve failed my Friends. They had so much faith and confidence in me that second time round id do this. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. I failed them. I’ve no idea what is next but I know I’m the biggest failure that I’ve ever been. When my mum and dad decided they wanted a child they didn’t want this. No parent would want to raise this or be proud of this. I’m a let down. A failure. A burden. I hate being a burden. I hate it. I’m interfering in everyone’s life. Getting in the way. Causing worry. Causing concern. I hate it. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be the reason someone can’t sleep or someone can’t go out. Or someone has to drive me around or take a phone call whilst at work because I can’t eat. There’s more important things in life than me and I hate that I’ve become a burden.
I think I need to just hold up my hands and realise that this has won. Anorexia has beaten me. It’s taken me away. I’ve forgotten who I am. It’s turned me into something else. I can’t think or function properly. I’ve failed meal plan after meal plan. Prescription after prescription. Challenge after challenge. The only two things I’m good at in life are failing and anorexia. That’s it’s. Today I nearly fainted because I ate. That’s how much of a hold ana has over me. How do you take that first step to getting over it. To disconnect from ana to be able to start to say bye to her. How?
So take 2 was a disaster. I failed. Again. All I ever do is fail.
I sat there with my 40g of bran flakes in front of me with 200mls of milk and a glass of water. With 30 mins to eat it all. I cried. I cried loads. I played it with it and stared at it for 10 mins but I managed I ploughed through and managed to eat all the bran flakes within 30 mins. This still wasn’t good enough though. I had to drink the water and the remainder of the milk needed to be gone. I begged for more time. Burst into tears and begged. I was feeling sick by this point. Heart racing, sweating, struggling to breath, feeling sick, faint and dizzy. I had to do breathing exercises so not to pass out. That’s how hard it was. I was given 5 more minutes but I failed. I couldn’t manage the water and the little amount of milk.
So right now I’m in the taxi in the way to the doctors because of my low blood pressure dehydration and starvation having been kicked out of eating school yet again.
I don’t understand surely eating should make my body feel better but instead I was clamy dizzy and thought I was going to faint. For the first time in forever I was hot I was sweating!! How’s that right?! I tried. I tried so damn hard but I failed. James the nurse specialist said I didn’t fail. It took courage to do what I did and I did so well! But I didn’t did I. If I did well I’d still be there. But I failed. I couldn’t make it through breakfast yet again. I was determined I was eating whilst crying eating whilst nearly sick but it still wasn’t good enough. Nothing is good enough. I’m just a failure.
What’s next I don’t know.
So tomorrow is take 2 and the last take too! I start day hospital again tomorrow and if I don’t manage tomorrow then that’s it. I’m being admitted. I’m petrified. The thought of breakfast snack lunch and snack terrifies me and I’ve no idea how I’m going to do it. I don’t want to disappoint my loved ones though. They have high expectations of me and they are the ones that got me this second chance. I can’t let them down but I just don’t know if or how I can do it. And if I can manage tomorrow how will I possibly be able to manage Tuesday and re eat all that amount. Currently If I do manage to eat I then starve myself the next day!!
I feel like I can’t win. I eat then I fail the anorexia and she is so controlling! But then I please my loved ones and my body. If I don’t eat I please the anorexia but fail yet again and destroy myself a little bit more. You need so much determination and motivation to do this. I’m so in awe of those who have that and the ability to! I’m trying I really am. That’s all I can do I guess.
I guess I’ll just see how tomorrow goes. What’s in store I don’t know. But I’ll try. I’ll give it my best. I will.
Does anyone else feel like there eating disorder has taken them back to being like a baby?!
Learning to eat again. Having to attend a day hospital which I call ‘eating school’ have a timetable, a distraction list, a reward, being supervised and watched. Having meal times and set meals. It’s little things for me too. Like I can’t use a knife and fork lately. I just can’t. I have to pick at my food with my hands or use a teaspoon. The dietician today said aim for a spork, she used that with her children. When I drink it has to be out of a bottle or a straw other wise I won’t drink it. It all just makes me feel like a baby. Not only am I learning how to swallow food etc I’m having to learn how to eat it. The whole process I’m having to re learn and it’s a simple thoughtless thing for so many people. But simply using a knife and fork and drinking from a mug takes so much thought and power.
I’ve lost more weight. I met with my support worker today. And she’s keeping me on the waiting list. She’s hoping my second attempt at “eating school” on Monday will help but she refuses to take me off the list until she thinks I can stay as a day patient. I’m trying. Baby Step by Baby step. I feel I’m at the nearly crawling stage in the baby process of walking. I know and want to crawl but I’m scared to crawl scared to take that first move take that first wobble. What if I fall what if I bump into something. Just scared.
I just ate 20grams of bran flakes. This may seem tiny but I haven’t eaten solid food in days. Man it was tough and now I feel awful but I did it. I ate. I ate 20 grams of bran flakes. Half the portion I need to be having and no milk but it’s a start. It’s a baby step. I ate food. I didn’t spit it out I ate it. I actually ate. I then showed of my bowl to everyone I was so chuffed. I’m so happy yet so annoyed st myself too. One side is saying well done the other is screaming and shouting at me telling me take a laxative and now not to eat any more for ages. Telling me I’ve over indulged. Arggggggg this is hard. So so so hard. I’ve instantly gained weight I know it. I feel it. I see it. I need to but I can’t. How can this be so hard how can I feel like this after 20 grams of bran flakes 75 calories 0.6 grams fat 0.1grams sat fat yet I feel obese. Yet I also feel hungry. I’ve failed yet I’ve won. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do! What to listen to! Omg!!!!!!
Wow! When will this all stop. Another hell of a day. What a roller coaster of emotions. I don’t know how to feel. What to think. How to process it all. What to do. What to say. Anything. My mind is fried.
So today at 1pm I got the phone call. The phone call I new would happens but was convincing myself it wasn’t going to happen. But it did. Of course it did. My support worker called and said I’m now on the waiting list for an inpatient bed. Her regime didn’t work, day patient didn’t work so there is no other choice. There officially looking for a bed for me. Cue shock speechless shock even though I knew it was coming. I couldn’t process this not one bit. It’s like it took it a while to hit me. Then the tears started the realisation started. I can’t and I won’t go to hospital. I won’t. My family need me. My brother is getting married and very close friend is terminally Ill. I can’t disappear to hospital. I can’t fail.
Then. With the help of my someone very close to me. And my brother we have persuaded the day hospital to give me one more chance. But I’m still on the waiting list for a bed. And if I mess Monday up. That’s it. Scared is not the word. I’m terrified petrified dreading Monday already. But I know it’s my only hope of staying out of hospital and seeing my brother marry his wonderful fiancé, and me there for my mum through this tough time. And do it for those who care. I won’t do it for me. I’m Nothing but I’ll do it for those few people who care and have gone above and beyond to help me. I’ll try. Trying is all I can do. I’m tired though. So tired of this. Giving up seems like the easy option right now. I’m running out of fight when I need it the most. But I’m trying. I am.
Well today was a day and a half. Every time I think it can’t get worse it does. Every time I let myself think I’m making progress I realise I’m not.
Today was my first day as a day patient and it was a disaster. I turned up at 9 after a nerve racking taxi drive for my one to one worker not to even had time to Have familiarised herself with my case. She proceeded to get me breakfast. Which was porridge with 200mls of whole milks. We sat there. Me and here In a little room as I burst into tears over this bowl of porridge. She told me I had 30 mins to finish that and my drink. Bear in mind I haven’t eaten for 48 hours!! I couldn’t do it. I just sat and cried. She then warmed it up again after half an hour and put it back in front of me and said I had 15 mins before our meeting with the nurse specialist. I proceeded to cry and not eat any of it. She then took it away bought in the manager and told me it wasn’t going to work and to go home. After one meal. After one failed attempt at eating. They gAve up on me. I haven’t eaten for 48 hours and because I couldn’t eat my first meal they gave up on me. Sent me home (well made me make my own way home) and left me.
This makes me feel worse. They can’t even support me not even willing to try. They just gave up. After an hour. One hour. That’s not trying. If your a footballer and break your leg you don’t go straight back into a 90 minute game. You build up to it. I was told I’d be on little portions and gradually build up. I was told it would help. No. No it just made it worse. What now? What next?