Tried to do an ED protocol admission at
the mental hospital instead of gen... they wouldn't let me do it because
it was my "choice" not to go to the general hospital (so they said),
and they only do it in the mental hosp when you are unable to do it in
gen hosp. I was actually willing to try this time -- to eat better, to
accept increases, to even gain a little weight -- and they just
completely shut me down. And they did this after I was assured protocol
at the mental hosp WOULD happen. I spent all of last weekend in damn hosp so it could happen, and then I was told it absolutely, 100%
would not.
I feel very... disheartened. Discouraged. Definitely quite down also. (What other negative adjectives can I think of that start with D?) I don't even want to see my psychiatrist at this point because it seems like EVERY time I go in lately, literally, I end up in a hospital afterwards. It's fucking ridiculous, and it's hurting far more than it's helping now, and I see no point in it. I did email her and ask her to tell me why I should come, given the circumstances. We had been having a conversation via email anyway, after I wrote her about what they did to me on Monday (said the regular ward or discharge, so when I refused the regular ward I was discharged). I'm sure she'll answer me at some point, but she's always busy, so it'll be when she gets time. She didn't answer my other email this early in the day, so it makes sense that she hasn't answered the new one.
I'm rambling. I gained a pound, apparently... not 100% sure how... but I know I was eating "too much" and continue to eat more calories than I'm at all comfortable with, because I literally feel like I'm going to go insane if I don't eat them. I've been binging and purging more than is normal for me as well. The energy pills that usually keep my appetite locked away don't work so well anymore -- I need an extra pill added to the dose now, and even then I still get hungrier than I did before. And taking 3 of these at once sometimes gives me palpitations, etc, which is just uncomfortable. (No, the other consequences don't worry me as much.) I do worry about really getting going with b/ping again. Ironically, though, the biggest worry is that I'll retain too much of the food and gain weight -- either that or get almost all of it out, only to be ravenous again in half an hour. That happens with fair frequency, especially when I first start b/ping. It fucks with hunger signals later, but when I start... ughhhhh. But I have to do SOMEthing that doesn't involve digesting a good portion of the contents of my cupboard or fridge all at one time.
I dunno what's with me anymore. The cognitive function doesn't seem to have declined much more than it already had, although I'm finding myself caring less about words and editing, so what you read here might not exactly be polished. But is it really cognitive dysfunction if the main reason is because I don't care? Or is it the lack of true energy in my brain that makes me feel like I don't care? Okay, there's definitely a high probability it's the latter. I'll admit it. But, goddamn it, I eat plenty of fucking carbs. You'd think my stupid brain would WORK. But I guess once you hit certain weights your brain and body just run out of shit and what minimum you're taking in ceases to fuel you at all.
Doesn't help that I'm tired. I need to take my night meds and go to bed. Yes, night meds, at 10 AM my time. Sleep cycle's switched around yet again. I'd try to stay up to switch it back but a) I'd probably just fuck it up again, and b) I'm too damn tired to be at that right now. So, after eating a fucking 230-cal Luna bar (this is probably why I'm not losing any fucking weight), I'm going to take the meds and head off to dreamland. At least there I don't have to deal with the insane hunger, don't have to keep myself occupied and non-suicidal, don't have to THINK. I can just sit there and rest, and my brain won't bother me with its business and need to always do something. I just wish I remembered more of my dreams -- when I remember them, I feel like I experience the peace of the sleep for longer.
PS: When they measured me on Monday (and took my weight *pukes*), I was 162.5 cm, instead of the 162 I had thought I was. This means that my height is so close to rounding up to 5'4" (it's like 5'3.97 something) that I might as well call myself 5'4". That makes a difference for the BMIs... but I'm also fascinated that I could possibly be taller. But I think the reason is that I've actually learned how to stand up straight, even though I don't do it very often, and I made sure to stand perfectly straight and upright for this height test. Maybe I was just hiding the extra half-centimeter in my slumping all this time.
I feel very... disheartened. Discouraged. Definitely quite down also. (What other negative adjectives can I think of that start with D?) I don't even want to see my psychiatrist at this point because it seems like EVERY time I go in lately, literally, I end up in a hospital afterwards. It's fucking ridiculous, and it's hurting far more than it's helping now, and I see no point in it. I did email her and ask her to tell me why I should come, given the circumstances. We had been having a conversation via email anyway, after I wrote her about what they did to me on Monday (said the regular ward or discharge, so when I refused the regular ward I was discharged). I'm sure she'll answer me at some point, but she's always busy, so it'll be when she gets time. She didn't answer my other email this early in the day, so it makes sense that she hasn't answered the new one.
I'm rambling. I gained a pound, apparently... not 100% sure how... but I know I was eating "too much" and continue to eat more calories than I'm at all comfortable with, because I literally feel like I'm going to go insane if I don't eat them. I've been binging and purging more than is normal for me as well. The energy pills that usually keep my appetite locked away don't work so well anymore -- I need an extra pill added to the dose now, and even then I still get hungrier than I did before. And taking 3 of these at once sometimes gives me palpitations, etc, which is just uncomfortable. (No, the other consequences don't worry me as much.) I do worry about really getting going with b/ping again. Ironically, though, the biggest worry is that I'll retain too much of the food and gain weight -- either that or get almost all of it out, only to be ravenous again in half an hour. That happens with fair frequency, especially when I first start b/ping. It fucks with hunger signals later, but when I start... ughhhhh. But I have to do SOMEthing that doesn't involve digesting a good portion of the contents of my cupboard or fridge all at one time.
I dunno what's with me anymore. The cognitive function doesn't seem to have declined much more than it already had, although I'm finding myself caring less about words and editing, so what you read here might not exactly be polished. But is it really cognitive dysfunction if the main reason is because I don't care? Or is it the lack of true energy in my brain that makes me feel like I don't care? Okay, there's definitely a high probability it's the latter. I'll admit it. But, goddamn it, I eat plenty of fucking carbs. You'd think my stupid brain would WORK. But I guess once you hit certain weights your brain and body just run out of shit and what minimum you're taking in ceases to fuel you at all.
Doesn't help that I'm tired. I need to take my night meds and go to bed. Yes, night meds, at 10 AM my time. Sleep cycle's switched around yet again. I'd try to stay up to switch it back but a) I'd probably just fuck it up again, and b) I'm too damn tired to be at that right now. So, after eating a fucking 230-cal Luna bar (this is probably why I'm not losing any fucking weight), I'm going to take the meds and head off to dreamland. At least there I don't have to deal with the insane hunger, don't have to keep myself occupied and non-suicidal, don't have to THINK. I can just sit there and rest, and my brain won't bother me with its business and need to always do something. I just wish I remembered more of my dreams -- when I remember them, I feel like I experience the peace of the sleep for longer.
PS: When they measured me on Monday (and took my weight *pukes*), I was 162.5 cm, instead of the 162 I had thought I was. This means that my height is so close to rounding up to 5'4" (it's like 5'3.97 something) that I might as well call myself 5'4". That makes a difference for the BMIs... but I'm also fascinated that I could possibly be taller. But I think the reason is that I've actually learned how to stand up straight, even though I don't do it very often, and I made sure to stand perfectly straight and upright for this height test. Maybe I was just hiding the extra half-centimeter in my slumping all this time.
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