Lost a pound since yesterday. 98.6. BMI: 17.1.

I feel fairly like shit, but am definitely not unwell enough to need the ER / a hospital, so right now I am doing "all right", at least according to my standards. A good friend suggested I should see my GP, but I dunno if I actually will or not. I mean, there's like an 80% chance that my bloodwork will be perfectly fine, and I don't think I could stand to go to my GP, say "Maybe I should get bloodwork", only to have it come back and all be PERFECTLY FUCKING FINE. And the only other thing she could say would be "eat". Which I am clearly NOT going to do. So I hardly see the point, unless it's to probably make me feel bad about myself.

No... chances are I'll either wait till I go into some sort of medical crisis or half-crisis, or only go if someone like the dietician says I should have a checkup and/or bloodwork every x weeks. I do not want to go get this shit of my own volition, because I'm tired of saying I feel like x y or z only to have it completely physically unsubstantiated by medical tests.

In the meantime, I roll along the lazy river of "life". Which happens to be in a separate stream from what most people call "life"; but I really don't care how separate I am right now. In fact, most of the time I'd rather be away from other people than among them and their judgments and their pronouncements and their stares. In my river, at least no one looks at me quizzically or asks me questions I can't answer in a way that would make anybody happy.

Reached a new low weight, and also a goal, today: 99.6 lbs. Double digits. I was ecstatic when I saw the number... that lasted for, oh, maybe a couple hours? Now that more time has passed and my exhaustion has hit me again, I just feel like shit. The number was "good", I guess, but it also needs to continue to go down, because if it doesn't I will freak the fuck OUT, and it will not be pretty.

There's really nothing else to write.

After like a week and a half of maintaining my weight even though I was REALLY not eating enough to maintain, I have FINALLY lost!! Today I was 102 lbs. BMI: 17.6.

However, my only safe food these days, aside from the occasional small lollipop or Push Pop, is veggies and dressing :/. I actually had to strike cherry tomatoes from my list of safe foods a couple days ago, too, because I ate the entire container of tomatoes all at once, which led to me feeling too full, which led to a b/p. I mean, wtf?? It's pretty bad when you have to take a VEGGIE off your list of safe foods.

Of course, I've been craving all sorts of other foods like a motherfucker, which naturally leads to me b/ping... a lot. I've been doing it 3 or 4 times a day the last couple of days. However, I seem to have developed an ability to purge "better": that is, quickly and a lot more easily. For awhile purging had basically been torture, as it took at LEAST 20-30 minutes just to get the food out, and every heave was really like... weak and unsupported? But yesterday I suddenly seemed to get the hang of it again, and it goes by so much more efficiently now. I suspect it will wane again if this amount of b/ping continues, though. Ugh. Oh well. I'll deal with that if it comes to it.

So... I'm probably basically the worst I've ever been, ED-wise, especially when it comes to motivation for recovery. I have basically zero motivation to want to get better right now. I went to see the outpatient dietician, who took my history and whatnot, then told me I had a decision to make. She won't keep seeing me pointlessly while I get worse and don't work on anything... she will only see me if I'm actually going to try and get on a scheduled meal plan, etc. At this point I have absolutely no desire to try any sort of meal plan. It's not that I really like this life I'm living right now... it's that no other life seems any better than this, and at least in ED mode I can keep most of my demons at bay most of the time. It's better than constantly living in mental hell.

103.2.

Restricting, binging, purging.

There's really nothing else I can say.

Still the same fucking weight. I am absolutely fucking disgusting.

No more b/ping. It's keeping the weight on me. I NEED TO LOSE THIS WEIGHT NOW.

Today is the first day I've gotten a real weight since late December, and I couldn't be more happy with the number. 103.6 lbs. BMI: 17.9. Officially in the underweight category... not that that matters. I still have so far to go. In my head it's always 10 more lbs, 10 more lbs, 10 more lbs. I am definitely FARRRRR too fat to stop now. And there is no point trying to argue with me, because, frankly, I will not listen. I am GOING to get there, come hell or high water, and I WILL get there. Make no mistake about that.

Had two b/ps last night... was good to be able to "release" that energy finally. However, I am going to try and severely cut back on those sorts of behaviors. If the hospital taught me anything, it's that I am capable of having far more self-control than I ever thought. Which is good for the suicidality thing... but also good for the ED. Or, well, I guess "good" ED-wise is a judgment I make in my own mind. You'll have to decide whether you think all this is "good" or not. But I really, really do.

I didn't give much of an update yesterday -- I basically just copied and pasted my FB status, as I couldn't face making a real entry. But the point remains that other than this bit of self-control, hospital really didn't do a whole lot for me except give me a little bit of space to think (although I tried to avoid thinking most of the time), and all those referrals. It's so ridiculous... I'd thought I was finally going to get out of treatment for awhile, and now I've been loaded down with so many referrals for so many different kinds of treatment that it's almost obscene. Just looking at my hospital laundry list from the discharge sheet makes me go... oh my god, I need all this? I really, really had not realized how serious it actually was, until I saw that list. I mean, the IOP program, a psychiatrist, a social worker, an outpatient dietician (until I go to IOP) AND a new psychologist besides? The IOP program alone could easily fill 3 days of my week, and is so comprehensive, and then I have all this other shit on top of that. It just really boggles my mind to see that they think I need this much support. I'm still not fully sure what to think of it all.

Time to make some coffee, I suppose. God, it'll be nice to have some good-quality perk coffee. And flavors, no less. Timmies and packets of shitty instant coffee off hospital trays just don't cut it, you know?

Love all y'all.

Dr. C is still not in, so today I get no consult either. On the other hand, at least I have the ability to go off ward with people sometimes. Gotta cancel my dentist appointment for today, though, as I'm not allowed to go alone. Sucks. Oh well.


Later that day:

Got out of hospital today... they basically didn't really help me much in there, aside from a bunch of referrals to OP/IOP stuff. Have an appointment with my psychiatrist and a dietician within the next two weeks, am supposed to make an appointment with my social worker (for counseling) and GP (for ED program), and am getting a referral for a new therapist at T Clinic. Phew!!

The next several weeks should be, er, interesting...

Was really agitated last night... am really irritable and depressed-like this morning. Am listening to angsty music on YouTube now... Evanescence, to be exact. Actually, one of the songs was the one in my signature. I do love that song. The other people in the room didn't really appreciate my angsty rock, but who the fuck cares anyway?? Hahaha.

Supposed to meet with Dr. C today. Dr. Mo has told me twice now, on two separate days, that I will definitely see Dr. C by the end of today, so I'm really hoping it will actually happen. I told them I wasn't safe off the ward yesterday, but I'm going to see about being allowed to go on 20-minute passes if someone is going with me, like if people go out for a smoke or whatever. I don't trust myself alone still, but if I'm with other people I'll have to behave, or they'll call security or whatever on me, which would not be fun. But it might be nice to be able to, you know, go to Tims and buy whatever I want, or buy Diet Pepsi for myself, or blah blah blah. A magazine or a Sudoku book or something, even. Whatever.

Ugh... oh, god, I really am irritable, though. I want to get the fuck out of here so badly. The problem is, I don't think I trust myself for extended periods on the outside... I really don't. So maybe accompanied 20-minute passes would be good for me, so I don't get as fucking stir-crazy. I don't know. All I know is that at this point I basically hate everything and (almost) everyone.

Fmfl, seriously.

I almost left last night... it's the second time I've almost left.

The first time, the night before last, I had an absolutely awful night. I spent most of it suicidal, plotting out how I could do it on the unit, etc. I still have the method, to be honest. However, I went in and tried to watch some of the hockey game (gold medal juniors game between Canada and Russia), and at some point some of the guys were telling a ton of jokes, and I was laughing hysterically. Once I stopped laughing, though, my face and hands started to tingle and stuff, and I knew that wasn't normal. Last time I experienced that, it was the beginning of a panic attack. Anyway, I had asked to talk to my nurse, about the suicidality and also about being short with her earlier, and by the time we had talked a bit my panic was seriously escalating, and I couldn't stand up even then (my knees were buzzing really badly). She tried to get me to stand up repeatedly -- "Come on, I know you can stand up" -- and I literally COULD NOT. Then I asked her to give me a hand up, but all she would say was "I can't lift your weight". That wasn't even what I asked her to do. :\

So she left me in the room, and my panic got significantly worse. I ended up unable to move my arms or legs at all; my hands froze solid, and distorted into a fucked-up looking claw shape, like someone with horrible arthritis. I called out for help while my mouth was still semi-functional, and the nurse who came in simply told me "This is a behaviour" and left the room. About a minute after she left I started getting completely stiff (full body) and suddenly my breathing got really rapid and short... in other words, I was hyperventilating. I'd say I was at least 85-90% on my way to passing out. I was not even able to stand or move to get assistance, and they left me ALONE in a fucking room while I almost collapsed because I could hardly breathe.

The whole thing made me extremely upset, not to mention appalled. It was very negligent, and it was irresponsible. They knew the extent of my panic reaction, and should at least have had me in their sights in case I did hyperventilate, but noooo. They just told me it was a behavior, got extremely frustrated with me, and then left the room. So I tried to sign myself out of the unit once I could actually stand and get to the nurses' station (my hands were still almost totally paralyzed, and contorted into that ridiculous claw shape), but my nurse conveyed that if I tried to leave I could possibly/probably be certified, so I left it alone and went to bed like they told me to do (and cried for at least half an hour before I went to sleep).

Yesterday afternoon I got the results of my consultation with Dr. Mek-- the asshole. Apparently he said that he didn't feel I needed to be on the eating disorder protocol, and the admission was solely because of the overdose/suicidality. Well, I was NOT impressed by that at ALL. I was told at psych assessment at the W that part of the reason I was going to H (as opposed to a W unit) was because they had the eating disorder protocol at H, and the psychiatric resident on call felt it needed to be addressed medically (and her supervisor agreed with her). Psychiatrically/psychologically, too, the ED and suicidality are basically entwined at this point. Eating makes me suicidal, but not eating also makes me suicidal, and binging and purging DEFINITELY makes me suicidal. I don't honestly understand how they can try to treat the suicidality without simultaneously addressing the ED.

Anyway, I was going to discharge myself again after that ridiculous meeting (there was a lot more that was ridiculous about it than just no ED protocol, too), because I had seriously had enough of this hospital and its utter bullshit, but two things stopped me. First of all, the most important thing in the beginning, was that I couldn't get hold of anyone who had my house keys, so if I was to leave I wouldn't even have been able to get into my apartment. Secondly, though, and most importantly in the end, was that Dr. Mo was actually there (we hadn't thought he was), and he came over to me and told me he was going to get a second consultation about the ED protocol from a Dr. C. According to the OT assistant in here, Dr. C is a psychiatrist who will actually listen to you and what you have to say, and he does have experience with EDs as well. If ANYbody is going to do what's best for me in that department, it's going to be him. And if I still don't have to go on the protocol... well, I'm getting the fuck out of here. They don't have grounds to certify me anymore (I'm not, at this moment in time, actively suicidal), and so I could leave as soon as I was seen by a doctor, more or less.

On the other hand, the only reason I'm not suicidal is because I'm giving into the ED big-time again... super major restriction. They're not even testing my blood sugars anymore, so they have no way to force me to eat any fucking thing. So I may have like... some salad in the run of a day, but I definitely want under 100 calories (been eating at least 300-400 a day to keep sugars up lately). Other than a little salad, all I want to have is coffee and Diet Pepsi. ALL. I don't care what happens to me anymore.

Soooo there you have it... my very long-winded account of the last couple of days. I guess I'll try to update later when I have more info on what they think they will do with me, and decide whether or not I will even stay.

I got Dr. Mo, thank god. It's kind of funny to call him Dr. Mo, though, because he's so old and... mild. Not a Mo at all. I guess I just don't want to use full names in here. Except for that son of a bitch Mak--, or however you spell it. I will never apologize for my opinion of that man.

Had a meeting with Dr. Mo, my nurse, some medical student, and the social worker today. It was... frustrating. Some of the meeting was fairly routine, but then they started questioning me about whether I've done the IOP program, and blah blah blah, and when I told them I did it and it didn't work, and I didn't want to go back because I didn't see how it would help any more now than last time, they started jumping down my throat a bit, the social worker in particular. She was saying I have to have a positive attitude about it, and all this shit, and it was kind of like... I told you I think I need to go somewhere and do a program, and I've told you IOP didn't help me stop binging or purging, yet you sit here telling me to look at the positives??? What the fuck is that shit? I felt like they weren't understanding what I was saying because they thought I was merely under a veil of negativity/pessimism, and that really pissed me off. Because my assessment of the situation is honestly accurate... I'm sure if you've been reading this for a long time, you'd agree that I need residential or something, not OP or IOP. If I'm pessimistic or negative, it's because I've seen what options I can see and they don't look good. I'm sorry if that bothers the damned team.

I haven't met with the dietician (L) yet at all... my nurse said she doesn't even know L's schedule. Now that it's inevitable that I see her sometime, I just want to get it over with, and I'm anxious to do so. It's really hard to just sit around and wait for a bomb to drop on my head. On the other hand, my blood sugar was actually up to 4.8 before lunch, which is pretty high for me lately, so I didn't bother to eat any lunch... just a can of Diet Pepsi. And I had a grande coffee from Starbucks (I think it was grande) with some milk and 3 sweeteners all this morning. Maybe the milk is part of why my sugar was so good. In any case, I was happy, because all yesterday I was having to eat a whole lot more than I wanted because my sugars kept going into the 3s... once it was even 3.0. So I'm going to avoid eating till my sugar goes so low that I can't avoid it anymore. Fuck food, seriously. I guess I am sort of at war with it right now. Any meal I can get away with eating little to nothing is like a victory for me. Of course, that will all be over once I see the dietician. :/

Anyway, must be off. Write tomorrow, or maybe again tonight if I actually get my charger. The extra set of keys is supposed to be over at M House by now, so anytime after 4 I might get a visit from J with my stuff. Plus she'll take care of my kitty. So it's all good, I suppose, or it will be... or at least as good as it gets when you're locked up. Y'know.

My phone is officially dead... isn't transmitting at all anymore, and the last time I turned it on it did an automatic shutdown instead of letting me stay on it to use any of the applications or dial numbers. My friend J is supposed to be bringing me in a bunch of my stuff today, but she has to get the key to my place first. See, I asked her to go to my house and make sure the cat had enough food and lock the door, because I remembered after the fact that when the paramedics left my house, they didn't lock my door. However, J didn't find my keys at all (she only looked on surfaces, but they were probably in my purse), but she did lock the knob before she left, so my keys are now locked in my apartment :( . So I called the landlord the other night, to get the keys from M House (which is where they're all supposed to be kept), and there were lots of keys... for everybody EXCEPT me. So now I have to get Judy T on the phone, get her to find spares, and then, I guess, get someone to bring them over to M House. THEN J has to go over with her ID, get my keys, go to my house, take care of the cat, get my stuff, and then bring my things over to me at the hospital. Soooo even when I get the keys arranged it's gonna be awhile. But hopefully it will happen sometime today.

One of the girls here, Jc (to differentiate from J), was nice enough to get her friend to bring me in some of her old clothes that she doesn't want anymore, so on my third day here I was FINALLY able to change my clothes and have a shower. I literally had nothing on my person when I went to the ER except my sneakers, winter jacket, and my phone, and all I was wearing was a nightgown, PJ pants, socks, and undies (I didn't even have a bra). Soooo I am kind of going au naturel underneath my outer wear today. I don't really have a choice -- I was having diarrhea issues at the ER, and I kind of, er, leaked onto the undies :| . I could have worn johnny gowns and washed my own clothes, but, wouldn't you know it, they have no working washer or dryer on the unit at the moment. They're supposed to be back "early in the new year", but that might not be for another two weeks or more, for all I know. So I had to wear lovely stained underwear and sweaty PJs for three days. I didn't actually smell that bad, though, surprisingly.

This is the first day any of the regular staff has been back from the New Year's stat holiday, so today is the day I'll see the dietician, and also, I guess, the psychiatrist who's assigned to me. I better not get Mak-- (I don't know if that's how you spell it, but whatever). He is a FUCKING ASSHOLE, and I hate him. I actually saw him at one of the back doors to the ward this morning, and I had to turn and walk away, because seeing him just made my blood fucking BOIL. Not to mention the distinct pang of fear that accompanied my anger. So I guess I both hate that man and fear him. I do have really good reasons for not wanting to be under his care, which I would be happy to explain to anybody, including him, if they wanted to hear why. I have already put in the request not to have him as my psychiatrist, but apparently they work on some kind of planned schedule, where they each get patients in turn, or something. So I might end up with him anyway... but I can request to be transferred. And believe me, I will. There is no psychiatrist on Earth that I hate more than this man. I cannot work with him, and I won't.

This has been really long, and also really rambly, I'm sure. I can't seem to stop my head from rambling lately. I don't know if it's anxiety, or some fucked-up mood thing, or what. All I know is that it's there. And also that it's going to increase about a thousand fold when I have to start eating the fucking meal plan the dietician puts me on, whatever that's going to be. Frankly, anything she could assign me at this point would be too much. :/

Wish me luck... I think I'm going to need it.

Had to eat far too much yesterday, as my blood sugars kept going below 4. Had to eat/drink and keep in like 300-350 calories. Fuck that shit. :/

Was 108 on the medical scale today, which means I probably lost, like, another pound or something. BMI: 18.5.

I wonder if they're gonna try to make me gain weight while I'm in here. :| :|

So I've been admitted to the general hospital psych ward (which I will call H for short), and am due to start the ED protocol on Tuesday, I believe.

The psychiatric resident at the W (psych hospital) actually asked all the right questions, and actually listened to what I had to say. On top of that, though, she said there were some things from my bloodwork in the ER that were concerning, and almost dangerous. Apparently my potassium was 2.5 upon admission, and my blood sugars were high, which according to the pdoc is a sign of starvation/ketosis. She said that my muscles are being broken down to fuel my body. Then there was the fact that my heart rate was at least 110 when I got there... the sedatives may have had something to do with that one, but the potassium and sugars were definitely not caused by the OD, and I was probably dehydrated, too, because I got at least 2 large bags of fluid along with IV potassium. In any case, she did not like what she saw at all. She said she thought the ED needed medical management at this point, & with the potassium so low (and I had no fucking idea) & sugars all out of whack and stuff, I suppose I can see where she's coming from.

The nurses here at H said my safety was the first priority, and after that was established we'd be able to work on other things (by which I guess they meant the ED, etc). I didn't have much in the way of suicidal urges today, but I think it was only because I was still kind of groggy/sleepy from the meds I'd taken. I expect tomorrow to suck a lot. And when Tuesday comes and I have to sign an ED protocol contract... well, good fucking luck to me is all I have to say.

Personally, I think it's an achievement to even be alive right now. The rest will come later, if it's going to come. But for now I feel at least half decently safe in here, so I guess that's good. (Ignoring the little niggling voice that says I shouldn't have been such a chickenshit and called 911 on myself, and I could do it better next time, and blah blah fucking blah...)

:\

So I managed to get myself put in hospital AGAIN last night, only I went to the ER instead of psych assessment. On the other hand, now that I'm physically stable, I'm still going back to the W for another damned assessment.

WHY won't my head be steady for just one night???