A friend wrote in reply to my last entry:

Niika, it's a shame to see you struggling so much and seeming so hopeless.

What is it you feel the treatment is missing? Have you tried to broach the issues with your psych/head of the programme?

What do you need that might make the difference?

Recovering this way is not working great but how long have you given it? But being ill clearly hasn't been working either, you've spent years on that route and it's not made life better. There must be something out there worth fighting for, worth persevering to find the right help, optimism for a good life, for?  


I've spent years getting help, too, and it hasn't seemed to work. This is my third stint at this IOP place and it STILL doesn't stick. Some of the clinicians are being jerks and the whole place seems bent on controlling me and making me jump through some stupid set of hoops that I won't jump through. Being very stupid therapeutically with me. They don't know how to deal with my BPD either, which makes everything a thousand times worse, cause that's what comes up when I let go of ED. And my psychiatrist who's supposed to be treating the BPD has been gone for like forever. And therapists are always going on vacations, and leaving me, during hard times in my treatments. How the fuck am I supposed to handle shit like that, or get better when people are always leaving during times I need them the most? (That seems to be a pattern, too... not just a once or twice thing.)

I know what I need for treatment and I also know there's not a chance in hell that I'll get it. So instead I'm just doing this. I'm sick of all the bullshit with treatment here in my country, and I'm fucking livid that no residential place in this country that I have heard of can effectively treat comorbid BPD and ED. And my last psychiatrist scoffed at me when I asked him about American treatment ages ago, and I know my current psychiatrist will babble something about how putting borderlines in residential programs or hospitals makes them worse and not better (although I did my very best when I was at M House). [And, no, I can't go back to M House again. I know the program very well and I don't think they even do third times, let alone for someone like me, who's so unstable and chaotic and seems to lose the plot once she leaves the place.]

Today I was 103.9 lbs. Two days ago my night weight was 107.2; the next morning I was 106.3. So over the last two days I've lost a little over three pounds. Seems like a lot, but I'm guessing most of it was fluid and/or food weight... probably a bit of both.

I want to lose weight. I don't care about the consequences. HANG the consequences. The consequences of eating and gaining weight are just as bad, if not worse. Actually, yes, they feel quite a bit worse. Especially because the treatment I'm getting is half-assed at best, because the people at the ED treatment place STILL don't know how to properly deal with borderlines, and the psychiatrist I see for DBT won't even acknowledge that my ED is a real problem, or a real diagnosis for that matter. So I'm basically doubly fucked.

I thought this was going to be truly it... the time I actually did it and recovered. But I guess it is not to be. I simply can't handle all the stupid bullshit that comes with "recovery". I honestly really do feel so much happier mood-wise now that I'm restricting again. It may not last, but at least I'll have it for awhile -- and I'll actually be thin again. I feel so, so fucking fat right now. Especially because of all the weight I gained on my boobs and stomach. YUCK.

I just want it all gone gone gone. The weight. The food. My life. Whatever. Go go get out leave me alone and never come back, because I don't want to see you anymore.