So what a day today has been. Today I planned to skip breakfast and lunch and have a light meal for dinner. But instead I did myself breakfast, and I ate lunch. Today has been a good day. A great day in fact. Today I got a job offer. Which I’m accepting and today I got a discharge date. Yep. A discharge date. I’m getting discharged.
So let’s start from the beginning. Breakfast. I planned to skip it. But I woke up this morning and thought to myself. I can skip it. And loose weight and stay in hospital or I can eat it and gradually start to get better and aim to get discharged. So I ate it.
Then I had the job interview which went really well and I got offered the job. He has loads planned for me from qualifications to being the person who opens up every day.
Then I had a date. Yep. A date. With a real life gentlemen and it went great. He’s lovely and I didn’t stop smiling for the whole time. I already can’t wait to see him again.
Next step. Lunch. I planned my trip back to hospital around lunch time time so I could easily skip lunch. And dessert. Instead I got back to the hospital and choose to have lunch. Yep. I chose it. I chose to have it. I chose to have it to take a step closer to discharge. I want to get better. I don’t want to remain in hospital for months on end. I want to get better I want to take this new job. I want to date. I want to live. I want to be normal. I could have easily missed it and skipped lunch but I didn’t. I didn’t take the easy option. I took the hard one. It’s not been easy at all today. I’ve felt incredibly guilty after ever meal I’ve had. It’s been a struggle. But for the first time in a long time I’ve felt I want recovery. I felt I can do this. I felt I can get discharged. Everyday will still be a struggle. Everyday I’ll still battle with myself. Food will never be my friend food will always be my enemy. I won’t be able to eat chocolate or pizza I won’t be able to go for three course meals. I’ll feel fat everyday. Ill see fat. I’ll feel guilty after every meal I’ll feel ashamed but I can do this. I can take a step towards recovery every day. I can and I will. Today has been a tough day. It’s been a challenge. It’s been hard but I’ve got through it and come out the other end. For the first time in forever I feel I can do this
So today I was out of the hospital as I had a trail shift at a bakery, (By the way The trail went amazing and I loved it) but along comes anorexia gleamingly happy that I’m away from the hospital as this means one thing. No food. Time to restrict. So that’s what I did.
With ana in my ear all of yesterday and today it saw today not as an opirtunity to show of my baking skills but as an opportunity to restrict. As I was up at the crack of dawn it was easy to miss breakfast. Then followed snack. Another easy miss. Then lunch. Another very easy miss. So I sit here at 3 o’clock in the afternoon having eaten nothing since 9pm last night (and that was a salad) and instead of being annoyed at myself I’m stupidly happy. I’m buzzing with the fact I haven’t eaten all day. And it was so easy to do it. As soon as I’m out of the four walls of the hospital my mind is just restrict, restrict, restrict. It was planning This day all week. Planning on how easy it would be to skip it all. Smiling and laughing at me the whole time. Tightening its grip on me, clapping its hands that it’s till got me on a leash. Cackiling at me laughing at me. So pleased that I’m still under its control.
As soon as I leave the hospital my mind just instantly plans what it can restrict and when, it doesn’t even think about food. I don’t even get hungry. I just don’t need food. I don’t need to eat. I got asked several time by people today if I wanted anything for breakfast. If I wanted a tea. A coffee. I declined them all. So easy as they no nothing about me Illness. Thy sent me home with the cakes I baked today, not knowing that I won’t eat any of them and they’ll be passed on to staff. I fooled them. Like I fool everyone. Everyone thinks that the aimee on transition is doing so well. What they don’t know behind the smile is she’s not. She’s still firmly under anorexias grip, restricting at every available opportunity cutting corners here there and everywhere. The only reason I eat in hospital is so I can leave and restrict. It’s not necessarily that I want to it’s that I have to. It gives me a sense of achievement it gives me a purpose. I’m good at it. It’s in me now. And I’ve no idea how it leaves. I’ve no idea how I don’t restrict. I’ve no idea when I’ll be rid of this.
Today’s trail went amazingly and already my mind is planning if I got the job how easy it would be to skip breakfast snack lunch and snack every single day. I wouldn’t have to eat. My cupboards would be empty. I wouldn’t be living at home so wouldn’t have people on my back. I’d be by myself and back in my ways of not eating. I’m happy with that. That’s my life. But how can I hold a job down if I can’t even eat. It may sound like I want this. I don’t want this. It’s just stuck in me. I need to be thin. I need to see my bones. I want people to look at me and stare at me beacaue I’m so thin. But right now I’m just invisible. I blend in to the crowd more invisible than every before. People just blanking me. Walking past me. Thinking I’m fine. When in act I’m screaming out for help. when will the awful illness leave me. When will I be ok. When will I want to cook myself dinner. When will I choose to eat. When? When will this end?
I’ve never felt like more if a burden than I do now. I feel I’m always in the way. I feel like I’m always the problem. I feel like I always chose problems.
I found out this week that my brother phoned my mum To say they need to visit me more as he can’t visit as much which makes me feel awful. I don’t want people to be told they need to visit. I don’t want people to feel guilty that they can’t visit. Thai senarrio is all my fault though. If I had just if so e everything right none of this would have happened.
Today my mum had a car accident. And hat was my fault as I needed to stop if to call the hospital to order my menu. If I wasn’t in hospital they wouldn’t of have to driven and hour and half to get me yesterday and they wouldn’t have had the accident today
This morning I woke up and saw my reflection in the mirror. Normally when I see this i see it at the end of the day and put the big bulging belly down to all the food I’ve eaten that day and bloating. But this morning before I’d eaten anything it was already bulging. So I got my straighteners and burned myself. I haven’t done that In ages but today I did. I needed to feel the pain. I need to punish myself for having a bulging belly. It worked. It hurt. It stung. It punished me.
So I went home this weekend. To my parents and staff at the hospital everything went fine but in reality it didn’t.
I realised I couldn’t move back home. There too many triggers. To many memories that are painful. Too easy to fall back into the same routine. Too easy to restrict. I skipped a total of 4 1/2 snacks one main dessert one light dessert and one lunch. And swapped main meals to light meals. I skipped nearly a total of 2000 kcal this weekend (Friday to Sunday) and that’s with waking a fair amount too. This should make me realise I’m not better but this makes me happy. I’m happy I managed to skip meals. I also took laxatives yesterday. It’s all too easy being back there. Right now though I’m pleased I did all of that. And how wrong is that. It’s not going to get me any nearer to leaving here. It’s just going to prolong it. But I guess when your in my situation and you have no life to go back to it doesn’t matter. My mentality (while sitting on the train going back to hospital) is to tell them if all went well and continue to eat my way out of here leave and diet. I’ve never liked my body and I’ve never been fully happy but before I came I’m here I could tolerate my body more and put up with how it looked whereas now I’m
Still unhappy and hate my body even more. So what’s the point in all of this.
It’s my life. You only live once so why can’t I live it the way I want.
I’m very depressed today. Im
Angry at the hospital over my cpa on Friday. I’m angry I have to go back. Im lonely. (Yes I have family) but I feel so alone so isolated. So lost.
I know I shouldn’t feel happy that I’ve skipped so much of my meal plan but the fact is I do. I can’t help that. I can’t help I still get a buzz when I successfully skip something. I can’t help it. It makes me feel worthy. It makes me feel like I’ve achieved something. It makes me feel good. And yes that may be wrong and I shouldn’t feel that way but I can’t help that I do. I can’t help what Anna is telling me. I know I’ve done enough not to loose weight so staff won’t know. I know I’ve done enough to fake a successful trip home as keep staff thinking I’m ok. I know they won’t realise. Anna makes me a great lier and pretender. It’s like a smile. Can hide a thousand feelings. Ana can hide a million things too and can make you get away with what you want when you want. You just have to be clever.
I’m well and truly under anas thumb the moment I leave that hospital even if for a day. She’s so strong. I think it’s because she lies dormant waiting for the opportunity then hits me like a brick when she can. And she does. I’m not ready to give up ana. I wish I was I wish I could but the truth is I can’t. She makes me feel good about myself. She makes me feel I have a purpose. She gives me a reason to be alive. She gives me meaning. I know it’s wrong. I know that’s so wrong. And I know people will read this and think how I can be that wrong in the head to feel that wY and not understand but it’s the truth. As much as ana is a bitch I’m well and truly still tied to her. I just cover her over with a bubble when I’m in hospital. As the moment I step outside of those four walls it’s pops and she’s there. She’s back. She’s alive.
I want a cuddle. I need a cuddle. I want an alcoholic drink. I need an alcoholic drink. I want my duvet. I need my duvet. I want this to end. I need this to end.
So I’ve come home for the weekend. And I’ve only been here 3 hours and already know I can’t come back and live here. No disrespect to my mum and Dad but I just can’t. There’s too many bad memories here. Too many triggers. Too much loneliness. Too much of nothing. Too much of my room. And too easy to get back into the same routine I had. I already thought I would move out but now I know I have too!
I’ve failed miserably on food today too. Not sticking to my meal plan. I’ve missed 2 full snacks had reduced sugar beans with my jacket potato and tempted to miss my 3rd and final snack. It’s just too easy. And eating here too makes me feel more guilty. I think it’s because I associated being here with being at my skinniest. I walked back into my room. A room I haven’t been in for about 3 months and all the bad memories came flooding back. I’d see certain things and feel a twang. I’d remember what I did. Saw my fortisip drinks. See things from my past. They all came flooding back. And this is a room I have to stay in two night. A bed I have to sleep in.
My cats weren’t even sure who I was. Timid around me and hiding. That hurt. Two hours later my dads on the computer and mums in the paper watching tele and I’m sitting here blogging. Feeling a lot like I felt before. Before hospital. I hate myself. I also today found out another person I know well is getting married. There younger than me. Out of the 4 of us I’m the one with nothing. I’m the one wasting my life. I’m the one who’s life is on hold and will be in hospital for at least another 3 months. Yep. 3 months at least. So I was told today in my cpa. 3 more months. Possibly 4. I’m barely halfway through. More depressed and fatter. God knows what I’ll be like then.
Let’s hope tomorrow will be better. I’m not ungrateful to my parents. I’m very grateful. And I’m lucky I can come home. But I know now for sure I can’t move back here.
Oh No. oh no. Oh no. I’ve lost weight. Only 0.1 of a kg. But still it’s a weight lose and I’m terrified what there going to do. Monday I was 48.2 and today I’m 48.1. So it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things but it’s still a weight lose and I’m terrified. There’s a little voice inside of me that’s happy. Happy I’ve lost weight. But I’m more annoyed. As I want to get out of this place. I want to get out then loose the weight. I want to fake it to make it. But if I loose while I’m in here I’m worried they’ll take something away from me. It’s playing on my mind loads!! They gave me transistion yesterday and today I’ve lost weight. It doesn’t look good!
Then there’s other stuff going on in my mind. It doesn’t stop. I had a horrible dream. And now I’m wondering what that means. I’m obsessing over calories and food. All day long. I’m tired. I’m nervous about going home. And now I’m petrified that they will punish me beacuse I lost 0.1 kg 😢
I think my mind is fu***d!
I can’t seem to think or concentrate on anything. There’s so much stuff going on in there I can’t filter it out and make sense of it and try and clear it. It’s all getting too much. I feel like i need to sort it out all at once but I can’t. Some of the stuff I can’t even sort out till I leave this place.
I got transistion yesterday. So I’m on the last ward before discharge now. I should have been buzzing and happy. Instead I just cried. I feel I have too much choice and I struggle with that. I like decisions go me made for me. I can’t make decisions well. I got given home leave but can’t decide weather to take it or not. I should but I don’t know if it’s a good idea. J literally don’t know anything and can’t think straight. My mind is full. It’s going to explode soon! And on top of all if that. I feel so lonely. I feel I’m being left out by people and forgotten about. This is what always happens to me. I always bet left behind. Cast aside. Forgotten about and left out. I feel like I’m in school again. I feel like a child being ignored by school friends. I feel pathetic. I don’t know what I feel exactly these days. There’s too many emotions and thoughts constantly going on in my head. It’s getting bad. It’s getting unmanageable
I’ve had enough of this place. I’ve had enough of my life. I’ve had enough of looking at a menu each morning choosing my meals for the day. I’ve had enough of eating 3 main meals a day and 3 snacks a day. I’ve had enough of the daily 4 hours of supervison. I’ve had enough of the pointless groups. I’ve had enough of being fat. I’ve had enough of constantly gaining weight. I’ve had enough of feeling and looking bloated. I’ve had enough of my massive belly. I’ve had enough of being bored and counting down the hours till the day is over. I’ve had enough of feeling lonely and completely isolated. Ive had enough of all the shit going on in the background. I’ve had enough of feeling like a burden. I’ve had enough of feeling tired. I’ve had enough of constantly thinking about food and the next meal. I’ve had enough of calorie counting and working out the “healthiest” option. I’ve had enough of this all. I’ve had enough of this place. I’m done. I’ve had enough. But the worst thing, even though I’ve had enough there’s nothing I can do about it!!!!!! I tried my size 6 jeans on last night. I can still get into them but there very very very tight. People told me to throw them out. But I won’t. The moment that button and zip doesn’t do up it will destroy me. But I need to keep them so I can measure my fatness. I’ve had enough. I really really have
I had a great day with my parents. Lunch out. Shopping. Picnic. Scrabble. And it was great. So nice to spend all day with them. They helped me to ignore all the shit going on around me and in my head and made me genuinely smile.
Now back to reality and all the thoughts are back! I’ve had to untuck my top so it’s baggy and sat and listed everything I’ve eaten and counted the steps I’ve walked. And I’ve come down like a led ballon. I’m probably as heavy as bloody led ballon too
I’ve had such a stressful week this last week. I’ve had police to deal with, past issues to deal with, weight gain, belly fat, money worries, food worries, everything. I feel like I need a nice cold alcoholic drink and a good old chat with my bestie. But I can’t. I’m stuck here.
Yesterday was tough. I had day leave but no one to spend time with so I walked around all day on my own looking at happy couples and families enjoying the sunshine and playing games while I’m sitting there on my own. Worrying about how big my belly looks. TodY took me ages to get ready. Everything shows of my belly. I look fat. Disgusting. And today was weigh in day. I’ve reached a number. The dreaded number. And it doesn’t sit well at all. I’m now at that bmi where I can drive and attend more groups as my “mind will
Be able to cope” . This In my head means I’m fat and definitely don’t need to be in hospital. My thighs are spreading my belly is pertuding. No longer caving in.
I check to see if I can still feel my hip bones everyday. I can. Just.
I check to see if I can still see my rib cage. I can’t. I’m fat.
This goes on day in day out and it doesn’t stop. At the minute my mental state is to just comply and eat everything. Get out of here and then go back. Diet. And be a weight and bmi I am “happy” with. The more weight I’m putting on, the higher my bmi goes the worse I feel. It’s still in the underweight category but this means nothing to me. It doesn’t register at all. All I’ve seen is I’ve put on so much weight, gone up through 3 different categories of bmi’s and am getting fat. I’m so unhappy with my body. I’ve never loved my body but I’ve been happier with it before than I am now. All I can think about all day is my body, my weight, my food and how I can burn it off or loose weight. I worry about weigh in each week I worry how I look. It’s constant. My brain is exhausted. And on top of all of this I’ve had a million and one things to deal with this week. But then I annoy myself. I feel shit and tho annoys me. There’s so many people in the world going through a hell of a lot worse than me and there fine. There living. There hAppy. There getting on with life and not letting it get to them. Then there’s me. A few problems. I few issues. An eating disorder and I’m like this and feel like this. I’m pathetic. I’m weak. I’m a sorry state of a human being. I hate myself.
My parents took me out today and it was lovely. Lovely to spend the day with them. But I spend the day thinking there probably looking at me and thinking I shouldn’t be in hospital. I’m too fat to be in hospital. It kind of kills my mood. But I’m determined not to let it affect the day. So I shove that smile on my face and try to block out all the nasty thoughts and problems. A smile goes a long way and hides a thousand feelings.