The title of this post is not only how i feel but also, i expect, how M feels too. I feel close to the edge of jacking in this stupid game called 'Life', curling up in a ball and saying "i quit". M, on the other hand, is i think close to the edge of the decision to either give up on me (although something tells me she's not that kind of woman) or have me sectioned, which at the moment is the way things were going.
My weigh was down again today. Which now puts me on the border of Critical Anorexia (hospital admission advised)........ I think ED talked my way out of it. Saying all this crap about eating different higher calorie things or eating small but more often, going away somewhere so i'd have to eat differently. Words came out of my mouth about talking to mum and getting her to help me set a plan. I know thats bullshit too, because i know (and also admitted) that i just can't tell her how bad things have got again. At the end of the session though, Sensible did get a word in and confessed how it was all simply words, and other than today, when i would head off with good intentions just like last week, but then just go back to the way things were from tomorrow, and probably compensate for the extra i had today by restricting tomorrow.
Its almost as though there's a part of me that wants an admission. Maybe i do in the fact that it would take the responsibility away from me, but i know that once i got there i'd want to run for the hills and something tells me that i don't think they'd let me leave that easily.
Anyway so i came home after picking up some shopping for mum. Had my lunch which i got out of the freezer this morning, then proceeded to pickout all the raisins from the new bag of museli mum asked me to get, which stupidly left me feeling a tad sick, but could i stop there? No, of course not. I devoured the final mini cake i made for xmas. Having said that i have felt so bloated all afternoon that i haven't had anything else ("Not that you need it!" ED) and as i knew i was going to be weighed today i did cut back with breakfast as well.
Having said all of the above, i have felt my heart beating like crazy all day today. Is it just thats it's closer to the surface than previously? that i'm simply paranoid after conversations about medical complications? Or has my time finally come? Is my heart going to give me the warning that i need? Or will there be no warning - simply a final answer.
For mum, i pray not.
S
xx
P.S or another thought with the heart palpitations - Medication side effects......another (hopefully) possibility.
Homophobia kills
8 years ago
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I used to feel like that, last summer, I'd figured by now if I'd just kept going I could easily get down to admission level. Someone would just take me away and fix me, and I could be as much of a cow as i wanted about it. Go down with a fight. Peace of p*ss really. But then I realised knowing the NHS I'd probably pop my clogs long before anyone did anything, it can take a lot less than admission level BMI for them to actually section you.
So I went to look around the ward and stuff, more because I'm damn nosey. Then afterwards realised what I was thinking and ran to the supermarket to buy food, desperate to put weight on. It was then it struck me that despite spending a morning with half bald girls, with feeding tubes in their stomachs, I still couldn't get myself to eat a yogurt for lunch. I mean they looked awful, then I realised I probably looked like that too.
That was around the time I realised how I wasn't in control anymore, and none of this was my choice. Sure I said it out loud all the time, on my blog yah yah i'm sick yadda yadda yadda, but i always figured I probably could just get over it if i wanted to. That was the day I realised that i couldn't. But I still couldn't bring myself to get locked in a ward in an intensive programme.
Lola x
PS Sorry for rambling, just saying I sort of know where you are coming from. Its a shit place.
Thats exactly how i feel Lola. I've seen the ward, i know i don't really want to go there.
I know it would be different to a general mental health ward, which is where my ED actually started, and the staff (except 2 or 3 who were powerless to help) failed to acknowledge. I know being surrounded my other ill people doesn't help me, after 7 or so admissions (sectioned 3 or 4 times) i know it doesn't do me any good.
With my history i'm not sure it would take a lot to get me resectioned. Although again i know i'm in a different category with anorexia compared to previous self harm and suicide attempts.
Maybe in someways i hoping to scare myself, trouble is, having been close to death on more than one occasion it seems to take a lot to scare me. That where the real danger comes. A bit like carrie said A,B,C happens and you survive so then you take the next step to conditions D,E,F.
I think its time to go back to taking it one day at a time. or maybe just an hour at a time.
hope you are well Lola.
xx
There's not a lot to say to that other than it doesn't have to be this way. You do deserve to find out whats on the other side Suzie.
Before I got to where I am I used to think that recovered people were full of shit, and so gullible for falling for it. Now I've realised that what is on the other side is far bigger than anything i've ever imagined. People used to say that to me all the time, and I just didn't get it. Like when someone says "it'll get better" when you are feeling suicidal. I tend to think: Yeah that's nice they care, but they're wrong. This is it.
It takes one leap of faith. You don't have to want it, you just have to do it. Anorexia isn't like hiccups, they can't shock it out of you.
Lola x
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