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.