Nightmares of the future?

I had a nightmare last night that I was sectioned 6 days before I was due to start at university.  I was suicidal in  the dream and had been planning and thinking of every way to harm myself severely.  One of my gym instructors seemed to be in the role of my doctor and arranged for me to be sectioned because she knew what I was thinking and planning.  2 women came along with paperwork in their hands and even though I didn't put up a fight,  they restrained me. Pinning me to the floor apologising whilst I begged and said I'd go willingly.  Apparently it was for my own good.

Its been playing on my mind all day.  Is a week before when things are really going to fall apart?  Or does my brain just want the easy way out rather than having to deal with all this? Why does part of me still want that to happen?

Oh What a Night!

Mum thought it would be an idea to do and actually do something on New Years Eve this year rather than simply trying to stay awake until midnight and failing miserably, as in every year past. Plan 1 was a murder mystery evening at a local (ish) pub, however despite the fact they still had ads on their website, we were far too late in trying to book for that.

So mum went onto the ever faithful lastminute.com and booked for a westend show (paying through the nose, i might add!). The show was good although it took me a long time to relax and get into the (rock) music - not because i didn't like it - but more for the issue of girls/dancers in sports tops and hot pants, looking wonderfully slim and toned, with rib cages visable during dance numbers/songs due to the effort their lungs were putting in. The fact that it's something i've always wanted to do, ever since a young child also doesn't help the envy issue, i remember when i got one of the supporting leads in the whole school musical it was a dream come true. I struggled right throughout the first half, and in the darkness of the Stalls, my little finger was twisted in ways that it naturally doesn't like. By the interval when i went to the ladies my stress levels were still though the roof and the self harm urges were coming thick and strong - the only weapons i had on me though were my finger nails (half of which are broken or have ripped right down to nothing!), but once again in the privacy of my cubicle i took my frustration and desperation out on my stomach, it just doesn't have the same affect when i have nothing to show for it (other than a few scratch marks this morning).

I got into the musical more in the second half and by the end was singing along as loudly as i could. The next task was to make our way to the river Thames, to try and view the fireworks. However due to the crowds we never made it further than Trafalgar Square. As i stood in the cold, surrounded by drunk, tispy and seemingly sober people the anxiety levels began to rise again. Not in the respect that i was getting crushed by people trying to fight their way through to their destination - not that most of them knew where they were going. But it was more the suicidal feelings that were rising to the surface. With so much broken glass, due to broken bottles, police every few yards - it just seemed to have all the elements of previous abscondtion episodes, other than the fact that i was with mum and D, and there were millions of other people around.

All i could think though as all these people were screaming 'Happy New Year' to anyone and everyone, was

"i don't want another year"

"this one was enough"

"i've have had enough new years thank you, it's time to stop having them now"

and then the normal

"Oh god, i wonder what the disaster event of 2010 will be"

After the fireworks came the inevitable crush, although perhaps i hadn't quite expected it to be as bad as it was. With people intoxicated, some started pushing the crowds forwards, which when you are only 5"2' (both mum & i) means you generally end up more squashed, it started getting dangerous right around the Square, resulting in one girl having a major panic attack somewhere behind me. I was more concerned about getting mum out safely, afterall, we know i'm big enough and bad mad enough to look after myself! What i couldn't exactly admit to mum was that although i wanted her safe, my thoughts were turning more to those 'accidents' that could happen. Basically i don't care about myself and if something harmful/damaging happens it means someone else has done the injury and its not my fault etc.

But we made it out of the crush (with me leaning my back into the crowd as much as i could hold, in order to make sure mum, who was in front of me, got crushed as little as possible. And i led them both, in a chain, up past leicester square, on a route march to tottenham court road, where we got a seat for the journey home. All the way to the tube my head was filled with thoughts of glass, police, section 136, one under's and various other possibilities.

Maybe part of it was due to fatigue and exhaustion, having been up for 16 hours by that point (with another 3 hours until i went to bed!) and also having completed an hour long hard gym class/circuit during the morning. Things feel slightly less suicidal this morning, despite only 4 and 3 quarter hours of nightmare filled sleep, however i am really fed up with the phrase "Happy New Year", does the BBC News really need to use it so much?

To those who've made it to the end of another post i hope that 2010 does bring you some good things.

Take Care.

xx

Time to say good bye in one way or another.

I can't do this anymore. I can't stand being alive. I know its selfish when there are so many people on this planet so less fortunate, but this depression and general mental state is not a way to live, and in many ways its not living - its surviving.

I've told mum i'll play happy families over christmas with the grandparents and then i'm going. but after yet another crossing of paths just a minute ago, i think i'm off tomorrow.

This is stupid - why am i even saying this? we all know i'm too pathetic and weak to leave. especially as i have nowhere to go. And with the ice and snow, sleeping in the car isn't the best of ideas, although part of me doesn't care. Hypothermia, dehydration - self harm without the effort isn't it?

Or do i leave the car at home, pack up the nytol and sleep though it all on a bench somewhere.

I just can't stay here with mum wanting me to see pointless professionals. I'm not going to waste their time just to keep other people happy. But then i also can't stay here as i am, with mum seeing me day after day. I'm sorry i'm not perfect, i'm sorry i'm not happy - but thats me! i can't magically change. therefore i think its time to leave.

Or the orders to medical supplies will go through, mistakes will occur and i'll hurt people even more.

I wish i was free, i wish they weren't around. I just want to go for ever but i know that would be the ultimate act of hurt.

2 down, 2 to go.

The worst 2 appointments are out the way, although K wasn't supposed to be one to worry about, but sadly turned out more stressful afterwards.




Dr L has changed - in appearance at least. I think i prefer the old look personally, as i'm not sure the red tights, loose grey mini skirt, heels, red jacket and redish highlights in the blonde hair, which is now a bob really work. Maybe she thought she looked to stern and serious as she was before, however i feel the old look felt more professional to me.



I answered politely and honestly, if a bit quitely with nods and shakes of the head instead of words at times. She was rather flabbergasted that she hadn't been told about the OD and psych assessment (given the high risk circumstances), or even heard anything about it. So of course i kept the honesty thing going and duely dropped the crisis team member well and truely in it, naming them quite freely, and i have no guilty feelings about that at all. Although i didn't want to end up on S ward (even if Dr L says it has changed a lot), i was quite expecting them to at least try and admit me that evening rather than a quick 5 minute chat. Oh well, i'll leave that one to her now.


I asked mum to leave at one point when the tears started to roll, and the openly told her how i felt about being alive. It still is the same as my post secret card that i sent off.




I couldn't be open infront of mum about a typical days eat when asked, so skirted around that question with an answer along the lines of "It varies each day". Well thats truthful! when i'm around mum i eat more (WW bagel for breakfast today), when i'm on my own i eat nothing - at all!

Medication was mentioned, but i couldn't recall the reasons for stopping the Lofepramine which seemed to help my mood the most. I knew i had blogged it here, however looking back it's not as clearly written as i thought. It seems it was due to lethargy (although Dr L seemed almost suprised that the lofepramine had caused that) and then the clomipramine simple made the side effect or tiredness worse. Maybe i should check my paper diary too.

The outcome? Dr L wants to go away and talk to a few people (K - who she's seeing this afternoon for something else/different, probably drug/alcohol services related. I hope she doesn't let on that i told Dr L i didn't have another appointment booked with her.....given that it was K her self who made the appointment that i cancelled!! She also want to speak to M and the team's part-time psychotherapist) and she made another appointment with herself for the 29th January, which i really don't want to go do. I'm praying mum will forget, although she was in the room at the time, and the appointment was made around when would be better for her, regarding time off work. I have the bit of paper stashed in my bag, so fingers crossed she'll forget about it until its too late. Somehow i think thats unlikely though. Dr L didn't suggest the appointment could be held elsewhere, either at my home (no way!) or at the doctors surgery, although she said she'd have to check but as i used to see a CPN there when i had no transport i'm sure the practice manager would be ok about that. That option does feel better as it is certainly a place i feel a lot safer, but the idea seemed to get lost as the conversation when on, and then became disrupted by the gardener blowing the leaves around with a noisy machine.

I just want it all to go away. I don't want to see anyone, i wish i could move out of home but financially i don't think that is in anyway possible - unless anyone knows of any free lodgings in my area. Although i don't want to see K, the fear of moving out of the area of the surgery feels very unsettling and a little too scary.

I'm never going to leave here or this place mentally or physically am i?

K the Catalyst

I haven't had such a bad time after seeing a GP since i crashed the car after seeing Dr PJ in 2005. In fact it was almost de ja vu, because i saw her in exactly the same place and drove the same route home. Coming down that hill tonight - well i did break in time eventually and also there were more/too many other cars around to crash myself without endangering others.

I stopped off at the other surgery on the way, cancelling the appointment K made for me in 3 weeks time with her. I barely spoke to the receptionist, she called me forwards by name, i handed her the bit of paper K had written on earlier and simply asked, through my tears, her to cancel it. I was glad to see my balloon had arrived safely, it looked magnificent, as did the one at the sister surgery, where i saw K today. The anonymous balloon sender strikes again!!

I made it home in one piece but still sobbing, battling my way through urges to devour the packet of nytol in my drawer, book a room at the travelodge (not sure i should spend another £45 after spending £365 on a gym membership today!) or drive 30 minutes to the samaritans drop in office.

Best thing to do - put on a coat, grab the ipod and leave the house. Even if it is drizzling with rain and absolutely freezing cold. But a bench next to the church was the solitude i needed.
Mum asked me what happened and why i was upset. As i told her yet again, i do not know exactly what it was that upset me.


My first confession was that it wasn't until i wrote things down or tried to go to sleep at night that i realised how much i was keeping inside and holding back. She told me that things weren't ok and that with mum to protect i had become rather good at hiding the truth.

K asked me directly if the sharps and chemicals had stayed away, and in fact started laughing when my gaze moved swiftly in the other direction. I think she gathered there and then what the answer was going to be. However it was then that the uncontrollable tears started. She asked me why, i tried to explain that i felt the damage that had been done was so minimal and insignificant and just wasn't enough. She went on to say that i wasn't the only person to feel this way, that she had seen other people with similar problems and that infact she had another patient at the surgery now with similar issues.

I'm not sure how that made me feel. Jealous? I'm not sure. did i want to be the only one like this? Part of me wanted to ask how this other person was, and ask whether they had any resolutions to their problems, almost as if to make a point and prove that nothing can me done to help me or make this shit go away.

I told her about the gym which she said she was pleased about but wanted me not to look at the possible negatives like wasting the money by not going, or going far too much. What i managed to keep from her was the fact that i haven't actually eaten anything yet today. Diet cokes and sugar free apple quash - and i haven't felt even slightly faint - shows how much extra weight there is to lose i guess.

She wants me to spend some of my time with Dr L alone rather than with mum in there having her say tomorrow. I admitted that if mum was there i wouldn't have to say things and admit them. I can hide behind mum - like a 5 year old, as K added. She also wants me to ask to see someone else if i'm not happy seeing Dr L. why? what is someone else going to be able to do? They're not going to do anything different to Dr L.

It feels like my heart is breaking slightly by not seeing her. I feel like i'm betraying her by not going to see her when she has asked me to and squeezed me in but i can't go through feeling so suicidal after an appointment with someone i trust. If i don't feel ok after seeing her, then i would really rather not see her at all. She wants me to drop off the blade to either her or J at the end of the week, but i just can't do that.

She took my hand before i left, as normal but held onto it for longer than normal "try and have a reasonable christmas" she said.


I left wondering whether i was going to make it to see Christmas.

Bringing it on Myself

According to M, i can't handle being in a "healthy place" and everytime something good happens i destroy it.

WTF??!!

So basically i'm choosing to be this way? I'm attention seeking? I want to carry on seeing professionals like her for the rest of my life?

Yes, i agree there are certain people i panic about being with out, or rather panic about not being able to see, but they are people who i have known for the last 13 years and who have seen me and supported me through a heck of a lot. K and J know me better than most of my family (not including close family), in fact i've seen more of them in my lifetime than i have some of my family - including my father. So excuse me for feeling insecure at the thought of moving out of the area and knowing i wouldn't be able to speak to people i trusted if i needed to. I mean for goodness sakes - if i got pregnant or developed cancer i would rather see them over any other doctor or nurse, purely due to the fact that i trust them and they have always been incredibly kind to me.

Am i bringing these downfalls on myself? Could i really banish the intrusive thoughts, stop harming, stop hating myself & my stomach, if i put my mind to it?

Why does M believe i can do anything i want to? She said she thinks i make things fail and destroy them, even before they do, just so i can avoid waiting for it to fail of its own accord.

So the fact that i want to harm on my stomach or lose the extra weight i've gained, has nothing to do with the fat (which the nurse yesterday, bless her, asked me if i suffered from bloating) thats there and needs to be lost. Its apparently because i can't handle being a healthy weight and i just want to ruin my life constantly.

Its times like that this, that make me feel angry and want to turn round and show them - no i don't want to ruin things or just not be sane or healthy - i do actually want to die a lot of the time, i hate things that much..... trouble now is stopping myself from doing something that may cause such damage.

I don't want.......

I don't want to carry on. K said to me today "You can do it Jenny". I replied to her with what my heart and head have been saying for the last week;

"I don't want to."

I'm tired. Tired of fighting, tired of pointless appointments. I'm living my life for my mum and grandparents. If it wasn't for the fact that it would break their hearts and destroy them, i would call it a day right now.

Part of me thinks that K and J would understand and although they might be sad, they know i will never be at peace whilst i am alive.

I don't want to waste these hardworking peoples' time anymore. Its clear after 9 years that nothing can be done to change my mental state but if don't turn up when they ask me to i feel i'm being rude.

I don't want to hurt people, but by living i'm hurting and then when that gets too much i just hurt and disappoint people anyway. I can't win or get it right. The question i often ask myself - is causing one final, ultimate pain worse than continually disappointing everyone?

I want them to go now. I feel bad for saying it but i feel so desperate now that i wish i had no family. I wish that guilt factor would go away - so i can go away.

Mum starting saying how she'd been thinking what it would be like if i wasn't around; my room used for another purpose, my car not parked outside the house, my bag not under the stairs, my laptop not in the lounge....... She didn't say those particular things. She didn't get that far, i was already crying and she was close to it.

I keep wishing i'd wake up and my life so far has all been one long dream, but i know thats not going to happen.

I know i'm hurting her simply by being depressed and the self harm, but in the long run is that any better than the ultimate hurt?

She wants me to be alive and safe but she ultimately want me to be content too. I feel right now that there is only one way i can feel at peace. This much i did tell K today. I think the only reason she hasn't had me sectioned me is because she believes in the strength of my love and attachment for my mother.

But in not being able to be at peace, the thoughts of harm, unbelievable damage, are so strong. The demon says that no-one would ever know, and that i could manage the wounds, that it would be our secret just like ED said it would.

The force is getting stronger each day and i'm really not sure how much longer i can battle it, i do feel this is going to result in an ultimate sectioning or hospitalisation. Maybe the crisis centre in London is worth a try, even if it is 5 days of relative safety.

Selfish or sensible?

A blog came through my RSS feed this morning that (for some reason) I'd subscribed to recently by another girl/young woman, in the UK who has an eating disorder. It was a pretty general post but the content and photos left me feeling almost angry, or perhaps now i think of it, jealous.

I've come to the conclusion that i do not want to read or see photos of suffers who are underweight. I have never posted photos of myself when i was at a very low weight here mainly because i looked so horrendous but of course also to try and keep my anonymity. But even in places where i am open and myself, i have only recently posted photos of myself, now that i am a healthy weight, only if they don't show my protruding stomach which is where the weight has decided to position itself right now. Looking at this photo made me want to comment on the blog.

"Why would post a photo of yourself when you look like a dress with 2 sticks for arms and 2 sticks for legs?!"

"You say you want to recover, yet you talk about doing great periods of exercise & still wanting increase that exercise. Looking at the photo, you should be on bed rest!"

My immediate reaction was anger, in that the person didn't really want to recover (which i guess is a very possible underlying truth) and that i wanted to scream "I've done it so why can't you??!!!"

But then when i started typing this post and tried to identify my anger (too much therapy over that last 10 years, i could get a job as one myself these days!) i began to question the anger. Was it anger or was it jealous? Was i jealous that she still had the power and self control over food? That she was able to keep her weight low? Where as i now just enjoy food too much.....

I wanted to say "you can just start eating again" but the tried to remember how i felt when i was that weight. I wanted to start eating again but there was this invisible force that stopped me and forced me to tears instead. I tried to recall all those people who didn't understand me and didn't comprehend how i supposedly (and honestly) had no appetite. If someone one had told me to just eat another apple or even try a banana, i know that all i could say to them would be "Its not that easy." and carry on crying inside.

I feel guilty for feeling this way, i feel like i'm not being understanding of their situation, which seems ridiculous when i've been there for the last 3 years. It also almost reiterates my feelings of being a fraud and a fake. Something in my mind says "If you feel this way and can't show any empathy then maybe you weren't really anorexic. After all you were only underweight for 3 years and only got help for 2 years of that. You weren't a proper anorexic". The fact that i reached a critical BMI of 12 doesn't seem to feature now that those digits are reversed (yep, from 12 to 21 in about 4/5 months!).

I'm not saying when you start eating again (like a bull in a china shop) that its plain sailing, for the first couple of months i was convinced i was going to kill myself because i felt so out of control. My self harm escalated again, not to the state that it had been before the eating disorder, however the fact that it had become at least weekly again was a sign of the struggle (not that i told anyone about that until last week). But i really do believe if you ever do feel that urge to just eat, find some support and just go for it, because once you awaken your appetite although its terrifying and feels like it will never stop, it does settle down. 5 months ago i was sobbing, asking people how long it would take, wishing i'd never started eating again, but i know it was the best thing to happen. I really would love to post a photo of my progress but i really don't think i can do it without revealing some clues to my identity. I'll have to work out a way of tracing my outline and posting that rather than the actual photo!

Anyway its breakfast time (well, once mum & D get downstairs), its the weekend & i fancy pancakes!!!! Its been so long since i had sweet pancakes, possibly not for the last 3 years at least! And my 2 attempts at buckwheat pancakes for dinner don't count! No lemon juice but i do have limes in the fridge, and i'm still debating between sweetner & sugar (actually i have some light sugar which is half sweetner and half sugar) some old habits are still hard to break.

I hope everyone is well & Lola, can you see through the boxes yet?!

take care,

Susie
xxx

I'd rather be.... (not a happy post)

...thin than this.

I'd rather be skinny & emotionally numb than healthy weight & in self destruct mode. I thought I'd left all that behind, but it seems not. I can't get through a day with thinking about harm, and wanting to harm. For mum, i fight it, however on occasions the desire & the need caused by this passionate self hatred that lives inside of me is too strong to fight.

There's a big part of me that doesn't want to fight it. That wants to attack me for being so stupid and getting so big. I have to wear baggy tops (now size 12!) to hide my protruding stomach. I can't stand the way my skin touches when i lean or bend over. I feel repulsed at the way my thighs brush against one another when i stand. The skin around my neck that folds as i lower my chin nauseates me.

I WANT TO GO BACK!!!

i want to scream, cry and shout - "It's not fair!"

I see images in my head of this that could happen, that might happen. For example on Monday, i won't eat at all until dinner, I'll cycle to and from work, I'll call up the gym I've been thinking of joining.....except i know I'm too pathetically weak mentally to stop my self from eating, despite the fact I've tried to cut down on the calories, because i just seem to be getting bigger & bigger, despite reaching a healthy weight over a month ago.

I think about the scenario if my self harm involves more serious injuries (as i wish it might) again & how i will deal with that. Who i might tell, who i might ask for help if i need it, what J would say if i panicked & needed her help to clear up my mess.

My thoughts are even going as far as the self harm that left me critically ill & needing a blood transfusion. I can't seriously want to risk my life again can i?

But you see if i was skinny & malnourished i wouldn't have these thoughts distressing me. I wouldn't hate my self for being fat so much that i practically want to give myself a tummy tuck. The worrying thing is that the last time i did self harm, it didn't hurt. I don't recall feeling any pain until i was at work later on. Now that is unsettling because it then makes me wonder how much further, not much more damage i could cause.

I don't want to end up in hospital, because it would mean going back to the ward where the anorexia started. But wait............ i want to be skinny again, so maybe it is what i want. Its so easy to not eat a thing all day when there's no food around you & no-one bothers to nag you at meal times once they get the message you are not eating their crappy/fatty food. So maybe that's the answer - get section, stop eating, get thin. Through in a few sit ups and squats to fill the day & pass the time et voila! The perfect solution to reversing the clock (and the scales!).

I don't want to hurt mum or nan etc etc. but if i carry on this way, feeling & the short term, instant & impulsive destruction surely it would end up hurting them more than is i was just a little skinny?

There's a picture of me on the lounge wall taken when i was 2 stone lighter than this (so still a stone above my lowest weight) and i want to be that girl again. i want to be her. everyday i see her, and she sees me and the chubby mess i've turned into. She haunts & taunts me, reminding me of the girl who, yes, was depressed, but wasn't suicidal or thinking of a razor blade every 5 minutes.

I'd rather be depressed & numb than depressed & suicidal.

mummy i'm sorry...

for yelling

for crying

for not telling you how i really feel

that i can't make you understand my feelings and emotions

for failing you

for disappointing you

for screwing up constantly

for being a burden

for being so dependant

for being so clingy

for limiting your life

for causing you so much stress

for not coping.


I'm sorry if i do something impulsive and damaging in the near future but i really can't take this. i'm getting closer and closer to the edge. and i know how much it will hurt you but other than you no-one seems to give a shit as to how much this is destroying me.

i;m fat, i look like i'm pregnant, i can't stop eating and i really just want out of this life. i love you so much. in fact i'm almost angry at you for being around and being alive because you are the one thing that stops me from finding that way out when i really want to. but i don't know how long i can continue crying constantly for. its too distressing and i can't carry on like this. please let me out of this life and free me from my mind.

Its that time of day where i feel like if i were catholic i should be going to confession.

Forgive me Father for other than breakfast (large bowl of cereal), lunch (sandwich, cake and fruit) and dinner (jacket potato, cottage cheese, salad and cake), today i have eaten......

• 1 Bournville chocolate bar
• 1 slice of bread and flora extra light
• 1 large bowl of cereal
• 1 banana
• 1 whole bunch grapes
• 1 McDonalds Cheeseburger
• 2 Fudge Mini bars
• 1 Dairy Milk Mini bar
• another banana
• and by the end of the night 95g dried fruit.

And hopefully thats it.

Saw M today. "you're doing the right thing" Because thats why i feel like i'm about to self destruct, thats why my thighs are black and blue because my belt buckle 'landed' there (repeatedly) this afternoon, thats why i ran away to brighton. "i'd expect you to feel like this" Is that supposed to reassure me?

Apparently my gain of 5.2kg isn't noticeable (in which case you may as well lose it again - shut up brain!) to M either just like K. I told her what i'd been scoffing and she said calorie wise an inpatient meal plan would be more than what i was eating. Maybe i have lost perspective of how much a normal person eats and what a normal diet is, but i'm pretty sure the past couple of weeks food that i've eaten ISN'T normal.

I confessed about fixing my weight with fluid the last time i saw her, but it became clear (as i thought) that had she seen that i'd lost more weight that week, she would have found a bed where ever she could and would have had me sectioned if i didn't agree which i wouldn't have. She said that the place i'm in, is when most people ask for an inpatient stay, which until she said about the meal plan being greater than my intake of cakes and chocolate, i was willing to ask for. Now, and having explained all this to mum, I'm not so sure, and neither is mum.

I hope the way today has made me feel, together with my feelings for my appointment with K yesterday, will help me to regain control. Today i managed to stick with grapes (mum's suggestion) rather than the dolly mixtures i was craving (but luckily didn't find in tesco although i could have gone to the old fashioned sweet shop round the corner!) so maybe this is the start of good things. M also said at my current rate of eating the weight gain would probably plateau, which felt like no great shame! So....... if i regain some structure and cut back on the snacking.....oh and do some more exercise........bye bye Recovery! Like anorexia you weren't invited either! certainly not in the way you've made yourself known.

Tomorrow i plan to cycle to the town, to go to the local market, and plan to take my laptop (if it fits in the rucksack and i can cycle with it) and after getting some grapes from the market and the local paper, the plan is to keep my backside in that library. I shall not be taking money for anything other than the grapes and paper, therefore there shouldn't be any temptation to buy and eat anything else. i might take money for a drink but i will take a sandwich and fruit from home.

Have i let anorexia back in? or did it never leave? Did i ever start the process they call recovery? What was the last 11 days? I don't know but i don't like it. And i wish i could snap my fingers and change things back to the way they were. I know it would be disappointing to mum but i'm sure she'd rather that than me so unstable again that i'm scared of myself.

I feel like i have more control tonight. After that final snack of dried fruit (which i won't be doing again like that, although i may buy the kiddies snack boxes - maybe it is just another passing craving) tonight, i could happily eat another bag but i have that strength and willpower. i just hope i can stay in control like this tomorrow, because i feel more stable and a lot calmer.

Obesity here we come!

9.30pm snack and drink: Options Hazelnut Hot Choc, Slice of bread with flora and a hot cross bun with flora.


and


I DON'T CARE!!!!!

i'm just going to become another obesity statistic and when they pick on me for being overweight, i'll tell them its their fault for encouraging me to carry on eating when i told them i was out of control and couldn't stop.

(Let the same be said if i go into heart failure from refeeding syndrome, or end up killing myself from the stress)

"Dare to be Normal"

K asked me today what will happen when the time comes that i am expected to live a normal life. So it seems now my mood has lifted a bit and i'm eating enough, that this means i'm ok.

i walked back feeling like i could quite happily go home and either OD or slash my arms to bits. Not thoughts i want to go back to. I had to bring myself back from the edge of compulsive actions and remind myself how disappointed mum would be. I just felt so angry.

Then of course i got home and wanted to comfort eat. Stuck to a banana, finished the bag of fruit mix and have just had a bowl of cereal. i wanted to go down to the tea room for a huge slice of cake, stopping off for a couple of chocolate bars at the co-op. I must remember COMFORT EATING WILL NOT HELP! Am still hungry though. Another bowl of cereal should shut the brain up. I fancy branflakes and a banana now. Tearoom has closed by now (4.30pm) anyway. i think i shall be going out to buy more milk tomorrow. Think i should get a 2 pint of skimmed for mum and especially me the rate i'm getting through it.

Oh and the sore throat is due to an ulcer there. I'm guessing the scratch from the baguette a week ago turned into the ulcer. The one from the weekend under my tongue is taking its time to heal too. oh well my own fault i guess, malnutrition was going to take its toll somewhere and apparently the lining of the mouth is very quick to lose its condition.

Now where's that cereal...........

Still Hungry :(

after all this today:

• cereal - bowl of branflakes and maple and pecan crunch
• 1 mandarin
• chocolate rice crispy bar
• 6 goats cheese baby bel
• bread pudding
• tuna and sweetcorn baguette (this size)
• more bread pudding
• large greek salad with feta
• 3 mandarin
• chomp bar
• 4 opal fruit/starburst

oh i missed out 3 choccie eggs from thortons - creme egg sized 1, 2, & 3


AND I'M STILL HUNGRY! AGGGGHHHHH

i need to get a drink, dinner was quite salty and i thiknk its made me extra thirsty but i know i won't manage it without eating something. i think i'm going to grab a pear. if i decide up here i might stand a chance of not raiding the chocolate tin!

This is just far too much stress, so i'm running away to Nan's otherwise i will end up killing myself (and i'm not kidding!) or at least start cutting a lot more again. And at this rate it would be every couple of hours! I'm hoping with constant company and supervision i will stick to my "normal" meal plan. i just need to make it clear to nan that i need to stick to the plan i've typed up but i need her help to stick to it and not go over it. I don't think right now theres a fear of going under it!

its gone from one extreme to the other! i hope its not side effects from meds because if it is then its not going to go away......


Edit: dammit mum was still downstairs and in the lounge with the fruit bowl (sounds like cluedo!). glass of milk and 4 pack starburst again - oopps

Edit 2: so much for the pear - pear, chomp, mini curly wurly and mini dairy milk... i've really had enough of fightin me today....

Mood Swings

I don't know what is going on in my head. Its like the anorexia is coming and going. I started the day with a breakfast of 2 mandarins and a very "past it" nectarine. Not exactly very substantial when you consider the plans for the day ahead - a 5 mile (at least) walk.

Yet then whilst we were out and stopped at a National Trust visitor centre for lunch i became a normal person, anorexia was no-where to be seen. I decided on a ploughmans and was considering something sweet for afters too, but came to my senses and decided i'd go back if i wanted something else, but by the time i'd finished the wedge of cheddar (which was disappointing to be honest, and the chutney that went with it was more like jam, far too sweet.) doorstep slice of bread (which i even spread real butter on!) and salad (including coleslaw) i didn't really need a cake. Despite feeling like i could have done, mum reminded me we'd be stopping in the next village for afternoon tea, and maybe i should leave it and perhaps have something there instead. Which is what i did in the end.

So with afternoon tea (or in my case a diet coke, as i didn't fancy tea) i had a slice (a very large helping) of carrot cake with a very sickly sweet icing on top. Which was divine. I was hoping they'd have some bread pudding - i really am obsessed with the stuff now. I dreamt about it all night last night, which really distressed me actually because i just couldn't get it out of my head.

On the way home i was praying we'd end up stopping to eat out for dinner. I had no plans or ideas as to what i was going to have otherwise. Although we stopped for a drink, because it was a Bank Holiday eating at the pub we'd stopped at wasn't really an option.

But in the 30 minutes it then took to get home the content i was planning for dinner went rapidly down hill and anorexia was firmly back with me. It went from a jacket potato with coleslaw, beetroot and other salad bits (like olives etc), then to a couple of slice of bread with beetroot, coleslaw and other salad bits, and finally to a bigger helping of coleslaw, beetroot and a tin of weightwatchers tuna mayo and sweetcorn on a big bowl of lettuce. I held back to a mandarin for pudding but have managed to allow myself my options hot chocolate. Anorexia is certainly back with me.

I almost feel suicidal i'm so on edge. The thoughts running through my head are not happy ones. Instead they are very destructive, very impulsive, very intrusive and very agressive.

I think a lot of it is fear about tomorrow. Today i managed to voice to mum about the suggestion of her making me my childhood favourite the way she used to do when i was little - macaroni cheese. But sitting here now, i'm praying the topic will never resurface.

Oh, and i text M today, telling her that i want a break and that her weighing me it making things worse. Which is true because after this long weekend i was planning to almost fast in preparation for seeing M on wednesday. Well even now my mood has been taken over by anorexia again i still don't plan on seeing her. I can't take another hour like last week - just sitting there almost in silence for over half the time. I've had enough of talking about life. Trouble is i don't know what i'm going to do tomorrow. I just don't trust myself to try and eat more when i'm alone because thats when i lose control and things go horribly wrong.

Despite the fact i've eaten more today i didn't feel at all guilty at the time about the ploughmans or the yummy cake. I don't feel over the moon about it now but i guess i'm not majorly stressed by it because my mind is now thinking i can sort it out over the next few days (i.e restrict) and also we did walk for a couple of hours at least today.

I just worry about how i'm going to fill my day without going near anywhere that might lead to temptation and get me started on something i can't stop again. Earlier in the day, around lunch time i was ready to ignore the scales, eat to gain weight and recover etc etc. But now tonight all that has gone again and tomorrow i expect i'll be back on the scales, restricting to the fruit and controlling my intake right down to the last drop of liquid.

Someone stop the roller coaster. Please? I want to get off.

Serves me right.....

2lb up over night. Suddenly i don't feel hungry anymore. Suicidal maybe. I just want to cry. I'm so angry. The self hatred is overpowering. I don't deserve a thing today other than hard work.

Can't we rewind? I want to change yesterday please.

I hate consequences.

I don't think i'll be making that mistake again.

I hope not.

Drowning (posts ends v. anorexic thoughts)

Sorry i've been quiet. I've been slowly sinking and there's a huge part of me that just doesn't care. Bascially if they end up sectioning me, which is the only way they'll get me into a unit, it's my own fault because i'm asking for it. Mum's made it clear she'd put up no objections if it came down to it.

M said if i don't gain any weight over the next 2 weeks, after losing another something like another 1.5kg by her records (which tallys with what i'm reading on my scales.), then she's looking for a bed ASAP. Forget the waiting list, she's getting me a bed. This was what a part of me was hoping she'd say. But for some reson those words didn't sink in. Another part of my brain just sat there and said "It's ok. There's others who need the beds more than you and there's waiting lists a mile long. She'll never find a bed! Don't worry, it'll never happen."

I told M these thoughts, to which she assured me when she really needed a bed, she never had trouble getting one!

Maybe part of those words did sink in. Because i left there in a state and called mum. I finally said some of those things that i'd wanted to say. Things like having someone there at lunch, or going into work with D all day so i'm under a bit more pressure to eat. Even if its just my soup and a slice of bread right now. At the moment i'm lucky to allow myself the soup. But as usual i think it fell on deaf, or rather non-comprehending, ears. I wish i'd never opened my mouth.

The other thing thats i've done over the past couple of days is eat things that would normally be totally off my radar (but that are really tasty!). Thursday i spotted a cafe selling Bread Pudding. Not what they call bread pudding in the US and not British bread and butter pudding but something with a recipe like this or this, although i suspect the slab i had contained suet as well, so even more scary. So anyway i plucked up the courage, bought it and ate it as i walked round town. I hadn't actually had anything yet that day, and needless to say i didn't have anything til dinner after! And tried to walk as much as i could. I still don't think it was enough to counteract the stodge and i totally regret doing it.

Then yesterday for some reason despite hating myself i did it again! i did have 3 pieces of fruit before i decided to get off my backside and go into london, which i knew meant a lot of walking so therefore i could afford to eat something while i was out. I decided to go to Borough Market in search of spider crab and giant prawns, but of course ended up tasting lots of other things like brownies, cheese and then when i could see any bread pudding (which i had now of course got a taste for..... the reason why i shouldn't have gone there in the first place and started eating these things) i decided on something else for lunch/treat as i'd done lots of walking (but sadly also lots of tasting....grrrr! no willpower!). I'm all for trying something new, new cuisines, new produce etc etc. Borough is full of different things and things that are harder to get hold of but they are often more expensive of course. Anyway i bought some Salsify from a veg stall, some fudge for Nan and Raclette to eat then and there. I found this photo on flickr which although was taken 2 year ago, i swear it is still the exact same people! So basically potatoes (slightly crushed), salt, mini gherkins and pickled onions with melted cheese on the top. Then because of course i'd started i couldn't stop.

There was a cooking demonstration going on, and when i was offered a tasted of half a pancake with sliced banana, caramel sauce and chopped nuts, i caved once again. After that i was starting to stress, my two sides were starting to collide so i got walking, making sure to choose a route that was going to involve more walking that sitting on the tube. I still had to meet mum to do the shopping as well (where i tried to tell her what i'd done/eaten but it just ended in an argument and reminded me why i don't bother telling her about things, so i didn't mention the bread pudding from thursday). I couldn't let myself sit down on the hour tube journey on the way home, and plugged my ipod in making sure i was tapping my foot and fidgeting in time to the music. I didn't care how stupid i looked.

And of course i tried my hardest to compensate at dinner with a salad of low calorie cheese and roasted red onions. I did have a pomelo after, which i wish i could have held back from but did enjoy.

This morning i'm planning on going to a market, if nothing else just to walk some more. Mum and D aren't up yet and although breakfast (porridge oats with rhubarb) is there and ready, i might me able to get away with washing it down the sink. I don't normally waste stuff but i'm so stressed and with it being the weekend i'm going to have to eat lunch with them home.... I'm leaving in half hour, i warned mum i wanted to go, so i'm kind of glad they're not up yet.

So there you go. Susie Belle is more screwed up than ever! I question myself right now. Perhaps i do want to go into hospital but getting them to force me in is the only way its going to happen? Maybe i'm seeing this as a way out, but not via the hospital exit - i don't really think i want the cardboard box exit but i really don't know what i'm thinking any more.

Sorry for such a depressing and anorexic post. But i think it shows how much anorexia messes with your thoughts and your mind.

Dot Dot Dot, Dash Dash Dash, Dot Dot Dot! (WARNING - possibly graphic certainly not happy)

I'm sorry if this post gets too detailed or graphic but i really need to get it out of my system. I'll leave a nice long gap before i get into the not so pleasant and rather depressing, possibly triggering details. I'm typing this standing up. I will not sit down until about 7pm now when we have dinner - not that i deserve dinner. Can you see where this is heading yet? How about if i described myself as a Failed Bulimic? Right, here comes the gap.






























So i thought i'd try and start the day with a bit more food than i had planned. the original plan was nothing at all before i went into town in the morning like a normal thursday, and then have my soup and fruit when i got home in the afternoon. so i sat and had a couple of pieces of fruit instead of just the planned tea and warm (sugar free) squash. On finishing the fruit the craving for a cereal bar took hold, but then things got out of control and quickly spiraled into another 2 cereal bars, a munchies icecream bar, 3 mini crunchies and in the hope of making myself sick with something extremely sweet and sickly, a huge lump of white icing. As a rough guesstimation i think i consumed about 1000 calories in the space of less than 30 minutes - thats probably more than i'd normally have in a day!!

So i headed to the bathroom, and attempted to purge myself of the evilness i had consumed. This is something that very rarely happens and with the delicate state of my heart as it is, i had visions of collapsing and snuffing it there and then in the downstairs loo. So the next turn of events was probably my saving grace. i managed a pitiful purge that would have probably have just about expelled one of the mini crunchies. Pathetic. But then........when i tried again, there in front of me, standing out against the stark white of the porcelain..... fresh blood. Whether i simply scraped my throat with my nails or whether my delicate body/oesophagus was simply too weak i don't know but luckily i had the sense to stop there. On closer inspection i had also managed to create a huge blood blister on the edge of my tongue, however it was clear that this was not yet the cause of what i had already spotted. So now i have aching stomach muscles and a hole in my tongue.






Thats all the gory details over with now. So of course there was only one things for it - some serious calorie burning. What was going to counter act the evilness fastest? To start with an hour and a half straight digging in the garden. That may get me a third of the way there. Next, Hoover the whole of the lounge and move all the furniture to make sure the whole carpet is cleaned and then move it all back again. Then change my bed, making sure to turn my mattress over and also around by 180 degrees. how do they make matresses so heavy? what do they put in those things? Ok, so mine is a double bed..... put the washing on. Take out recycling and compost making sure to make as many trips to the bins as possible. same applies for putting on washing and getting things from upstairs. get a shovel and give the compost bins a bashing to compact the contents down.

Next into town, park in the carpark furthest away from when i need to go. I made sure to buy the heavy things first so i have to carry them around town with me - its surprising how heavy 4 large heads of brocoli can be! So in total i was walking around the shops for about an hour and a half. So by then i thought i might be getting somewhere a bit closer to evening things out. I'd put the box of glass recycling in the car, a box of about 30 jars and bottles. the one thing our council won't recycle! So putting them in one at a time took more effort.

The final jobs before mum gets home - remake my bed. The fitted sheet is still in the tumble dryer though!! theres 25 mins before she gets home - it'll be tight to hide my manic activity and distasterous day.

Oh i forgot to mention the part where i turned back to the faithful razor blade to vent my anger and disgust towards myself.

Why, when i know that the body needs a certain amount of calories to get through the day as it is, do i then go OTT on exercise because i feel i need to get rid of the evilness? According to an online calculator my BMR is just a bit over the binge total...... and as i haven't eaten anything since that and am planning a dinner than will barely take me over it - why am i worrying? I mean its not like my body doesn't need it.

Bed is made and done. mum will be home any second. D wouldn't notice my obessive manicness i don't think. plus he's outside in the garage at the moment sanding something down i think. and as a final punishment no fruit for pudding tonight, no low cal hot chocolate and only low cal veggies to go in the WW curry sauce tonight.

I don't know which is going to get me first. Today i wasn't sure if my body was simply going to give out first or whether i was going to end up doing something directly to bring things to an end. I haven't felt that suicidal in a while. It scares me.

And M thinks i should go for the assessment at the unit and also accept any offers of a bed for a inpatient stay. But i don't need an inpatient stay!! I'm still dead set against it. Although i fear if things carry on i will be dead in general instead. Something has to change. I just don't know what and the though of being stuck on a unit where i know i will more than likely be put on bed rest, with a BMI of about 13.5, and forced to eat food that i probably won't like just feels like worse punishment than i'm putting myself through already.

Mum's home, so time to start cooking some veggies for dinner, and acting normal. I need to find something/somewhere to go during the weekdays though. I need somewhere that i wouldn't be commited to though, in case things go wrong. I can't handle commiting to something and then having to leave, its happened too many times in the past.

Anyway time to put the normal act on and hope she doesn't twig how close things have come to disaster today.

The end of the road

People say live your life for you and not for others. Trouble is i don't want life, it hurts too much. The pain and misery never goes away. I have to live my life for others, its the only reason i'm still alive. I find myself wondering more and more if i'll outlive my nan and my mum. For the agony and pain it would cause them, i hope i do. But for me i just want an end to all this.

I want mum right now, not because she can make it better, but more to do with the fact like i feel like i'm on my last legs and i want to spend my last moment with her. I just want to be with her. I necessarily want her holding me or touching me, i don't think thats fair on her. I wouldn't want to put her through holding a skeleton anyway.

It just feels like there's only one way this is all going to end - these feelings - this depression and that would mean the end of me as well, which i know really isn't what i want.

My shock of the scales yesterday was replaced by the normal anger again this morning. i thought yesterday was too good to be true. Yesterday was a nightmare as it was. No exercise, stress induced snacking and gallons of liquid to try and replace the snacking. Add in a few arguments and you get one of the worst days possible.

Question now is what do i do today?