Admission take 2 

So today I was admitted as an inpatient. For the second time. 

I don’t know how I feel. I can’t really process it. I just thought I’d update you guys. I’m here and in a state of unpacked. 

All my dresses with Belts have gone, phone chargers, straighteners, tights. All taken away. I got ushered into snack right away. I haven’t even been shown around the building and I’ve never even seen it before so it’s beyond new!

I’m scared lost and nervous. 

Thank you 

I just wanted to say a little thank you to all of you who have commented lately and given me advice and words of wisdom. 

And obviously to my loved ones who are there for me and looking out for me. 

I am sorry I am causing you worry I am sorry I am causing you concern and stress. I don’t like it. I don’t want to be a burden. So I’m trying. I will try for all of you to dig deep and do this. I am fine. I feel fine. I will be fine. I’m determined not to cause any of you any more worry than I already have 

Today I got asked if I could cover a few shifts at my old work. Which I loved. And I had to say no. I wanted to say yes. I really wanted to. But couldn’t. I can’t. I want to go out without people staring at me. I want a normal life. It just all feels so far away right now. I’m hoping tomorrow I’ll have more answers and hopefully get out of this limbo like state I am In right now. I’m disappointed in the system if I’m honest and it’s got me questioning if I’m even ill. And if the professionals do actually care. But I didn’t sleep a wink last night, struggled to breath through stress and worry. So I guess it’s just my head right now. 90% of this battle is my head and overcoming what my head is saying. Let’s see what tomorrow brings. 

My poor mind 

I’ve zero idea what is about to happen. What will happen. What to even think. How to process what I’ve done and how to go about working out what is next. 

Yep. I did it. I discharged myself. I’ve no idea how long it will be until another bed comes up. If I will even get one. (Why would they give me another bed if I discharge myself from one unit) do I even need it? Can I do this myself? Am I kidding myself. I thought about leaving for so long and now I’ve left I’m scared. I’m confused. But I know I had to leave. I was sick to death of going in circles and being in limbo. I think they thought I was just playing games. That I was just threatening them. I asked to leave so many times and they always managed to make me stay say “hang on in” “wait one more night” “stay another day” “wait and see” “it will get better” Well the fact is it didn’t get better and I knew/know I’m not going to get better there, so instead of waiting, lingering and not being taken seriously, I took it in my own hands and left. 

I didn’t sleep a wink. So many worries and stress. Money. Money being the biggest, what’s next, where’s next, when will it be. What will people think of me? Am I stupid? I know I had to leave but I think people will think I was an idiot. I did the wrong thing. I need to get my stuff it’s all still there. I need to work out my meal plan I need to speak to my support worker. I feel like they gave up on me in there but now I’ve left will I be given up on more? 




The unknown is the worst 

I’m a fraud 

Food makes me feel so guilty. 

Ok so today If I go back through my meal plan I know I’ve failed 4 out 5 meals so far. 2 not even started and 2 not completed and 1, being supper competed. So realistically I know I haven’t eaten much. But I feel so guilty. I feel that because I’ve managed supper (half portion) so one chicken wrap I feel I shouldn’t be here. I feel I’m fine. I feel I’m a fraud. Even though I’ve lost weight I haven’t completed the meal plan for over a week now and I struggle to finish any meal. But when I do I feel so guilty. Like I’m taking some one else’s place. Like I shouldn’t be here. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve the funding I’m not Ill enough I’m not ill at all. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t need to be In hospital. This is how I feel every time I eat a meal. I am fine. I can do this by myself. Yes the nurses are doing my obs four times a day but this still doesn’t tell me Ill. If I smile or laugh or try to include myself I feel guilty too. 

When will I feel ill? Should I? Do I need to feel ill to get better? But if I don’t think I’m ill then I don’t need to get better? 

Cut my mind out and I’ll be fine. I’m going crazy. 


So today I left. Well got granted leave. Against doctors orders. It was that or I discharged myself. So after several discussions, an escape, a night away from that place and more discussions with consultants and support workers they agreed to grant me leave for the weekend. They said it’s un-advisable and against doctors ordeds as I’m medical too unfit and unwell (I’m fine, that’s nonsense) but if this is the only way to potentially get me to stay then they will grant me this. 

The hope is I use this weekend to clear my head after an extremely tough and traumatic week there. They hope I realise that I need there help. That I am ill. That I need that place. And that I will stay. They hope that if I mange to stick to the meal plan in place I will come back and stay there to get the best recovery of they hope if I fail to eat this weekend tjat I will realise I’m so Ill I need there help. Basically they hope it finally hits me this weekend that I need them. There not the enemy. There here to help. It’s not prison. It’s hospital. There here to help. That’s what they hope. 

I’m trying to remain open minded. Taking each meal time by meal time. Not looking too far ahead and not thinking about going back to “prison” yet. I needed to get out of there. I ran out twice I was shouting at staff daily, so angry at them , not eating, losing weight, running up stairs when I’m on no stair access. Just rebelling at every opportunity. I wasn’t doing it. I was getting worse. So them and me hope that this leave will help. It’s been a horrendous week. And a crazy 24 hours but hopefully this will be the turn around I need. I hope so. We shall see. 


So yesterday I packed my case. I ran up the stairs. Yes you read correctly. I A: ran and B: went upstairs. Two forbidden activities  but it felt good to disobey them, to pack. 

I flipped. I’ve had enough. My boyfriend came to visit and we were told to sit in the hallway. When everyone else could have some privacy of a private room, sit in the lodge or the therapy hut. I get the hallway. This was the tip of the iceberg. This then ruined the 1st hour and then after lunch when my boyfriend came back we sat outside as the sun was out and got told to move to staff could watch me. I lost it. I flipped. I ran full pelt upstairs and starting frantically packing. I didn’t leave. I’m still here. But my case is still packed. I want to leave. I’m just petrified of the alternative. Petrified. It literally is the only thing keeping me. How scared of the alternative I am. 

after the conversations we had yesterday with the staff I thought they would learn. They didn’t listen. Later that evening I got told to move yet again so staff could watch me and then I got told I’d been in the sun too long so could I move out of it. I’m 27. I know when I’ve had too much sun. I’m not 2. Then this morning I was told to leave the bathroom door unlocked and got checked up on if I was ‘too’ long. It’s a joke. It’s crazy. 

My case will remain packed. 

It’s not being unpacked. 

Today I’m deciding. How today goes decides of if I stay or not. Then it will be only day by day. This place is making me crazy. 

Maybe I’ll run again today maybe I’ll run up the stairs again. Disobey them. Annoy them Like they annoy me. See how they like it. 

Day 13 ……. the unlucky number 

Woke up feeling like shit. Just can’t be atsed feel so crap. My stomach hurts, its full already but it’s only morning. I just want to cry but I’m out of tears. Woke up and my roommate gets bought a drink in bed. Me nothing. See. No one thinks of me. I don’t have ‘friends’ in here. They hate me. They think I’m weird. They judge me. They talk about me. I know they do. I want to go back to sleep and never open my eyes. All my positivity from yesterday is gone. Fuck off life. And this is before I’ve even got out of bed 

I feel like I’ve been punished because I’m ill. I feel like I’m in prison. It’s bank holiday weekend and I can’t do anything. I’m stuck here. I can’t go sit in a beer garden I can’t go out and can’t do anything. How’s that fair. All because I’m ill. You don’t get punished for breaking your leg. You still have your freedom. They give you crutches or a wheelchair to help. Here they take that away and instead give me a leash as short as anything and watch me like a hawk. Why couldn’t I just break my leg instead of getting this 😦 


So I don’t really find any meal times ‘easy’ but I guess that’s why I’m in here. If I did then I’d be fine and wouldn’t need to be an inpatient or even have an eating disorder. I do however find some meal times easier than others and I find some extremely hard. Snacks being the worst, snacks being near impossible. So the routine is breakfast (cereal) then snack (smoothie/milkshake/or the worst…..home baking) then it’s lunch (cooked meal)  followed by snack which is half snack at the moment (300ml of juice and half a snack, cereal bar, crisps or chocolate) followed by supper then another snack (300ml juice or 200ml milk)

My nemesis is the snacks. I’m more scared of snack than death. I’ve got into the habit of downing the juice at bed time. As this means I get off supervision sooner and can go to bed sooner. Morning snack is very hit and miss, sometimes it’s done in a second sometimes I just can’t do it. If it’s home baking then I’m screwed. I just can’t eat a cake or something. No way. But the biggest hurdle snack wise is afternoon snack. 300ml of juice and half a cereal bar or similar. I’ve barely managed to complete it in the two weeks I’ve been here. The word snack is horrible. I don’t need a snack. I struggle with breakfast lunch and supper let alone coping with snacks. Snacks is something that if people diet they cut out, snacks aren’t essential , snacks are treats and I don’t want or need a treat. I can’t seem to get over this hurdle. And then today the support worker saw me struggle and gently went to run my arm. Well that was it. I was off. I find that so patronising I don’t need a gentle pat. I’ve told them this. So that was done. I walked off. Another snack failed. Yet again. It’s so hit and miss. God knows how I’ll cope when all my other meals increase to include ‘afters’ like yoghurts and fruit. I’m already dreading that. Already fearing that. I struggled to take the first increase from 1/4 to 1/2. But one day at a time I guess. One meal time by one meal time. 

Still waiting for it to hit 

Still waiting for this to all hit me. When will it hit me that I’m an inpatient in hospital. Full time. It just hasn’t. It seems to pass by in a blur like I’m Waiting for someone to pinch me and wake me up. It doesn’t feel real it feels weird. Dream like or should I say nightmare like. It seems fake, fictional, not reality. It really hasn’t sunk in. I can’t describe how it feels but it defineltly hasn’t hit me yet where I am and for potentially how long I will be here. Days just pass by, life just doesn’t exist it’s all a haze all very weird. All odd. Like I’m floating waiting to fall waiting for something but not sure what. It’s strange. 

Harder than I thought

Just a mini blog……..

Each day I’m learning this is harder than I thought. YesterdY was the lowest and toughest day I had. I won’t go in to details but I ran out of the hospital and ran away…..only to walk back in 30 minutes later. That’s how much of a failure I am. I can’t evidence run away I come walking back. That’s how f****d up I am. 

Every time I smile I feel guilty, I wash my hair I feel guilty, I eat I feel guilty. I feel fat, I see fat, I feel disgusting, horrendous, hideous. And fat. I  don’t seem to be getting anywhere. I seem to just be stuck. Stuck staring, stuck isolated, stuck here. I hate it.

My head is messed up. It’s all over the place. I hear voices, I get so much vent up anger and agitation, my mind is in over drive. I had to cover my ears Earlier from the noise. But the noise was my head. I’m going mad. I swear. I don’t know what to do how to win how to even start my recovery. I just don’t know