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
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
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