So tonight I’m afraid that tomorrow my pdoc will call back saying she thinks it’s a good idea for me to go to the ER and get checked out (orthostatic vitals, bloodwork, etc). The problem is that we know I already have orthostatic tachycardia, and she suspects my blood sugar is low, and she talked today about how she sees signs of cognitive impairment (which interferes with my ability to fully engage in therapy). I’m not sure how low the sugar is, but the cognitive impairment is accurate -- she said (and I could see) that my thought processes and speech were slower, I wasn't as sharp-minded or sharp-tongued (lol), my focus and concentration were off, and that I was forgetting things, which I hadn't previously done. And my bloodwork was fine when I was admitted to short stay before I went on protocol, and I did eat much better for that week, but lately I've been having leg/body cramps and other random, odd symptoms, like short lasting bouts of vertigo, or what I would call "muted" brain zaps. Most of the time, though, I don’t even get symptomatic when my lites or sugars are low except that I feel tired, so there’s no actual way to tell if I'm low in anything without the tests.

However, my pdoc also gave me a slip for bloodwork. So I could go get that done, then... what, wait several days for her to get the results? If she thinks I might be bad enough to end up admitted to the ER or even medical, should I wait that long? But I’m not trusting my own memory of what went down in the session, now... hence why I called her and left a message asking her to phone me when she got it. I need to be sure that I won’t be going in for no reason, the doctors won’t laugh their asses off because my being there is so ridiculous, etc etc.

If I do go I’ll make sure to go during the morning/afternoon, before Halloween truly gets to a full start, because Lord knows the ER is going to get filled up tomorrow night from people having accidents or just doing stupid-ass shit because it’s Halloween. Halloween isn’t one of those holidays (like Easter or Christmas) where people try their best not to go into a hospital; it’s more like Paddy’s Day in that people party and celebrate and are more, not less, likely to get hurt and need the ER.

I guess at this point I just feel this whole thing is ridiculous... like, do I really need to be on a damned medical ward just because I get tachycardic when I stand up? But then again, when I think about my physical state atm, I know I don’t feel “right”. Standing or walking for any length of time makes me feel quite weak and not-okay, and as such I really can't do a lot of walking... so, basically, the ED is also now causing some impairment of mobility on top of everything else. Yet I still don’t feel like I would in any way qualify for a medical admission. The pdoc on the psych ward didn’t pay any attention to me suddenly getting orthostatic tachycardia in my last couple of days there; he let me go after about three questions when I asked to be discharged. But, then, this is the doctor who’s discharged me from psych assessment when I was actively suicidal. How good can HIS judgment be?

I just don’t know. I’m so confused and scared and my head isn’t working right and idefk.


PS: My scale yesterday said 88.3 lbs... but today it was also 88.3 lbs, so now I don't even feel good enough for hospital ANYway because I didn't even lose any fucking weight yesterday, so what good of an anorexic am I? But I'm not nearly so hungry today, or at least it's somehow in check, so I'm hoping that might help compensate a bit....

I am still around... well, not so much on [site], obviously, but I am at least alive. I just spent almost two weeks in the hospital (psych wards) but only spent not quite one week on ED protocol -- and since I was voluntary and it was made clear to me that I could leave at any time, on the day the shit truly hit the fan in my head... I left. I just couldn't cope with it anymore.

Here's something I wrote just before I logged in.


++++++++++


So “this morning” when I weighed (I woke up at like 3 PM, but okay), the scale said that I was 90.6 lbs. I did not, of course, believe it. It was jumping around more so than a scale really should, though all within the 90 lbs slot (90.4, 90.6, 90.9), so I picked the number that it showed the most near the end. But, really, I’m starting to think the battery is truly gone. I have a new battery that I will put into it before I go to bed shortly, and I’ll do my weight again tomorrow... it shouldn’t have increased any, at least, so hopefully I’ll know it with 100% certainty.

If that WAS actually the right weight, though... it would qualify as my lowest weight ever. Until now, I had never gotten below 90.9. (I discounted that as an actual possibility because I only saw that number 1 time out of at least 5 or 6.) I think I’m supposed to feel pride, or triumph, or something, but I really just feel mostly blank. A nod to myself — “Good, you didn’t gain in the hospital, actually you lost, how awesome is that?” — and then back to blank. Because there is always, always the knowledge that you still have more left to lose. That you have to keep losing and losing until either you die or someone stops you, because you tried as hard as you could, but you simply could not stop yourself.

I’m on a downhill train with no brakes, waiting to reach the end of the railway... I have no concept of where that path might go, and the window blinds do not open, and it’s entirely possible that the train may suddenly turn too sharply and if it did I would crash and roll off into Neverland, irretrievable, an exploded carcass amid a melting ton of coal and steel