Today I was 101.9. BMI: 17.6. At least I’m decently into the underweight category. I don’t qualify for anorexia by the ICD, but it’s quite possible that I qualify as anorexia under the DSM-V at this point... either that or atypical anorexia. I barely purge; I just take energy pills to keep myself from feeling as hungry. I don’t want to purge and I certainly DON’T want to binge. It’s very strange to me that I’m able to just... not eat, but apparently I am. I’m pretty sure that’s only because of the pills, though. But I'll use whatever method is necessary to prevent me needing to b/p constantly.

Saw pdoc today... she gave me some ideas for keeping electrolytes and fluids a bit better that aren’t too many cals, so I’m grateful for that. I don’t want to end up in the fucking hospital again. I hate the hospital. (But, really, what rational being likes the hospital?) I hate it especially when it comes to medical shit due to ED, though. There’s always the chance that this will be THE time that you don’t actually stabilize enough and they send you to the psych ward (voluntarily or not)... and if that happened, I’d be put on a protocol for the ED and either have to eat, or have a tube forced on me. I’m terribly, terribly afraid of that. This is why I want to avoid the hospital. I’m terrified it will happen someday when I’m unawares, and I’ll just have a complete fucking meltdown and, whoops, there goes the last strand of my sanity. That is not what I would consider a good outcome. (Understatement.)

I don’t want to die doing this... I want to lose weight. I want to lose every pound that I can lose. And I don’t really have a choice anyway — my brain is so far gone that even if I wanted to fight the weight loss and the restrictive mind, I wouldn’t be able to. If I landed on a ward right now for ED they’d have to force feed me, and I’m sure I’d be extraordinarily upset the whole time. I simply cannot handle the calories right now, let alone taking them into my body VOLUNTARILY. The thought is disgusting and repulsive to me, because I feel disgusting and repulsive because I’m still nowhere near my lw, let alone where I want to go. Having any sort of complications at this stage to me would be absolutely and utterly ridiculous because I’m still too fat to have anorexia consequences. I know that logically this is stupid, but... ED brain is absolutely convinced. And ED brain is steering this ship at the moment.

My next challenge: to get through the next 4-6 weeks without my pdoc available at all. I have made plans with her: Going to see my M House counselor in the interim, getting bloodwork done in another week or two (to make sure electrolytes aren’t bottoming out, basically) and seeing a doctor for the results; and, well, that’s it, really, but the medical and psychological aspects will be covered, albeit not as well as I’d have liked. But she can’t help that she needs surgery and I can’t help that she’s going, so all I can do is try to cope the best I can, you know? It’s not exactly going to be the easiest thing in the world, but I’ll have to handle it because... I have to. I don’t have a choice.

Oh, yeah, and she’s also going to call my completely paranoid self after she has the surgery to tell me she had the surgery and she’s still alive. I’m always scared for people when they go into surgeries because there’s always the small chance the surgery will go wrong, no matter what surgery it is. The fact that she is actually willing to call me, and I know she’ll do so, makes me feel much better about it. Once I know it’s done and she’s still alive, it will be like, “Okay, there really isn’t much danger anymore, and she really will come back.” Which, apparently, I need to know rather desperately. Then again, everything I need feels desperate lately... *sigh*