91.7 lbs.

Saw the liaison nurse today… talked a lot about the DBT that Dr. D is going to do with me. (It’s easier to write Dr. D than his full name, because it’s long and really difficult to spell. Haha.) They have this theory that once I get far along enough in DBT, I will be able to break down the barriers around my ED and I’ll be able to recover myself. Well, I sure hope that’s true. And I sure hope it happens before I end up in a hospital (aka the same psych ward I just got discharged from). You know.

My schedule looks a little something like this: Tomorrow I got a cancellation appointment to get my filling done (YES!) at 11:40. I say YES! only because I’ve been waiting forever to get it filled, and things like brushing can cause it pain because I have about three fillings in that one tooth and at least one is apparently crumbling. Then next Tuesday the liaison nurse comes over again at 1, on Thursday at 3 I see Dr. D for my first outpatient appointment, and on Friday I go in for my readiness inventory for the ED IOP at 1 PM. Yes, that’s right… I have to wait yet another week and a half to get the RMI done. Apparently everyone was or has been on vacation, and this was the earliest I could get an appointment. Woo-fucking-hoo.

At least I feel like thing are sort of starting to go somewhere now… though it remains to be seen how any of it will actually turn out. But I have hope that maybe at least some of it will help (like the DBT), and maybe I actually CAN do enough DBT work to be able to turn ED around before I end up hospitalized again. Maybe. I’d like to think it’s the last time I’ll ever need to set foot in a hospital... but, then, I’ve thought that so many times before. 

92 lbs. BMI: 15.9.

I just got up, so there isn't much to say. Gonna beg my dad to buy me a 2L of Diet Pepsi and I'll give him the money for it when he gets here. Haha. (I'm lazy and don't want to walk to the store.) Gonna take my meds with Powerade Zero and make my coffee in a bit.

Life wanders on.

 

92.3 lbs. BMI: 16 on the nose. (Also my lowest-ever adult weight thus far.) I think it will only be another .1 or .2 lbs before I'm in the 15s. I've never been in the 15s before, so that should be... well, vaguely interesting, I guess.

It's funny how the numbers don't matter at all, and yet they do. They only seem to matter in the context that I keep losing weight and that my BMI keeps going lower. The actual numbers aren't nearly as important as the downward progression. The numbers MUST go down, and continue to go down. That is my #1 goal right now in my entire life and being. How sad is that, right? But it's all I have left to cling to that doesn't drive me deep into despair and desperation and suicidality. So I will cling to it with all my might, and believe it is the most important thing in the world, because I have to. My life simply will not work if I try to do it any other way.

Oh, ED, you've certainly got a really fucking good hold on me now, haven't you. 

To make a long story short about my psych ward stay:


- Rediagnosed with BPD as my longest-standing, and underlying-everything-else, issue.

- Going to see a new psychiatrist who's going to do DBT-type stuff with me. Not precisely sure how that's going to work, but I guess I'll find out.

- Been medically accepted to the local ED program, and now have to go in and do the readiness inventory, which is this really long, tedious test that tells them how "motivated" you are to get better. I'm honestly not sure if I'm going to pass it. But, again, I guess I'll find out.

- Liaison nurse from hospital is going to see me until I get a psychologist, which is supposedly in another month or so. I haven't gotten a letter or anything saying when to come in or who I'm seeing, so I'm kind of starting to wonder what's happening with the psychologist thing. May call the clinic to try and see what's up with the referral.


 
So that's what I got out of it in the end... well, that and a few new friends, who, of course, I lost as soon as I left (and I'm not allowed to visit the ward for at least 2-3 months). But such is the way of psych wards. Mostly, you never keep in touch with people you meet in there. 

Going home today at around 5PM. I could have stayed for another day but nothing will change or be done differently in that day so I don't see the point in staying. I just hope I can keep myself safe when I get back home. I would imagine it's going to involve diving deeper into the ED, maybe deeper than I've ever been before. But I'm gonna have to handle it, cause I can't keep getting hospitalized like this. It's not going to do me any good to be in again and again after this.

I wish I could c/p my handwritten journal entry from last night... haha. But basically I have my "big" interview with the psychiatrist today, and I'm basically nervous as fuck about it. I'm afraid of misdiagnosis; I'm afraid he won't want to put me on the Lamictal as my own psychiatrist recommended; I'm afraid that he'll put me on the ED protocol, and I'm also afraid that he won't. Really, there seems to be no winning in any of this. I'm also afraid of being discharged before I'm actually ready. If I went back to my life today, absolutely nothing would be different, and I know it would probably be sooner rather than later that I ended up back in the same headspace that brought me here.

I'm... not eating much again. I tried to eat more for a day or two, but I just can't handle it. ED is in absolute control and freaks the FUCK out if I break its rules. So I'm not going to try to break the rules anymore. I just can't challenge ED when I'm being given zero support to help me do so. I tried, and I really, truly can't do it. :/

So... there it stands with me as of now. I'll talk to the psychiatrist later on today sometime... no idea when. Not like it really matters. More time before it happens means more time when I don't have to think about it happening. I'm all right with that.

I feel like this little red dude:

Very short background to this post: I was admitted to the gen hosp psych ward very early Friday morning because I was very suicidal, so this is my third day on the unit.


Just finished my second breakfast in two days... I feel terribly bloated and fat. It was a cheese omelette (2 eggs & equiv about 1 thin slice cheese), a banana, half a cup of 1% milk, and then my decaf coffee with whitener and milk in it. I feel more guilty about the coffee than anything else... I shouldn't be letting myself have whitener that comes to 45 cals for ONE tablespoon. That's the way you're gonna get fat, Niika, the anorexia voice taunts in my head. All those extras. Not to mention all that FOOD. And you're not even on protocol. You disgusting, horrible pig.

It's a constant presence in my head, that voice... I feel very much like the ED is controlling me now, rather than me controlling it. I'm walking slowly up and down the one hall obscured from general nursing view and the girl here who's actually on protocol and is sitting down eating right now... not to get rid of cals so much as to try and keep my mind off this awful sense of fullness. Doing something else that involves my body detracts from the stomach sensations. And if I concentrate too much on how full I am, breakfast is going to go down the toilet just like supper did last night :/.

I FUCKING HATE THAT I HAVE TO FIGHT THIS ALONE. I shouldn't have to do this alone!! It's not that I want to be on protocol... I hate protocol too... but my ED is terrible right now and I've told the nursing staff this multiple times, but they don't seem to care at all. And then last night the nurse was all "but [the ED] is not what you're here for". This same nurse, by the way, was the one I told last night that the ED feeds into and partly causes my depression, so if they actually want to adequately treat my mood disorder they have to treat the ED too. But nobody fucking listens around here.

Tbh I'm starting to panic now. I might have to go get Ativan. This is just too much... too much to deal with alone... but I feel horridly guilty for purging. Plus I actually told them last night that I purged, so now they might pay more attention if I'm in a bathroom with water running. FUCK MY FUCKING LIFE I HATE THIS SHIT.

95.7. A real weight this time, not necessarily just dehydration from lax. Yesterday I was 95.8.

Nothing interests me anymore. Nothing that used to be fun is fun anymore. I don't want to be on the computer, don't want to play games, don't want to watch TV. Barely even want to read, but since it's the only thing I can do while lying in bed I give in and read -- sometimes. Literally all I want to do is sleep. I'm waiting for some dude to show up and fix my storm door (it doesn't shut right and creaks really loudly when opened) and after that I might go back to bed. Again.

I've been abusing my benzos and adding stuff like sleep aids so I will sleep instead of being awake. I can't stand being awake, especially after I had this massive fight with my sister over IM which ended with her washing her hands of me and me saying "good riddens". If any of you wants to read the conversation, it's at xyxy and the password is ****. Anyway, if you do read it, you can clearly understand why I can't forgive THAT anytime soon, or easily... so I doubt we'll be speaking for a very long time. And once I got over my anger about the whole thing, it did make me sad. And it only adds to my litany of reasons to not want to do anything, to not want to be on this planet anymore, to not want to exist anymore.

I just wish I didn't fucking exist. Everything would be so much easier then. And evidently not just for me.

95.5.

I see my GP in about two hours to finish my IOP referral. Let's hope there's nothing wacky about my orthostatic vitals. I AM happy that it's not very likely that my weight will be in the triple digits on her scale. I worked pretty fucking hard yesterday to make sure I wouldn't retain any water or anything, and I lost a pound from yesterday because of those efforts, so for once I can actually say I'm proud of myself.

But I know this is just the beginning of it all, and I don't know what's going to come next... and that scares me not a little. :|

97.1 lbs. BMI: 16.8. Percentile for my age and height: 3rd.

Went to my GP today... after getting my prescription for my reflux med, we talked for a good while about my ED, after I said to her that I thought I might be anemic or something. But she said the symptoms I’m having could also be caused by dehydration and/or slight hypoglycemia from the restricting. Nonetheless, she set up some stuff to get done for bloodwork.

And then... I decided to let her refer me back to the IOP program in my province. I’ve been there twice already and it didn’t stick, but neither of us could think of anything else to do, and hopefully, if they can’t help me, they can at least assist me in the process of getting what I need somewhere else. So tomorrow I go for the bloodwork and also an EKG, and next Thursday I have a double-booked appointment so she can fill out yet another intake sheet, which will include taking my weight and doing my vitals lying and standing. Fuuuuun times. :/

I would love to get out of this ED trap... I really would. But the treatment actually has to be decent. I’m not going to stand for any more of this half-assed treatment I’ve been thrown before, like a beggar being thrown some pennies. If it’s not going to work, I’m not going to fucking do it. Period. But I will give this a chance and see where it leads me, because, again, they might be able to figure out a program that can REALLY help me if they can’t, and help me get the proper letters and things written so the province actually funds it, etc etc.

97.8 lbs.

I’m definitely dehydrated… every time I stand up since yesterday my heart races. I’m going to the store fairly soon and I’m gonna buy some bottles of Powerade Zero, since I figure electrolyte drinks will help more than anything. I’ve only got $60 to last me till May, but since I’m not eating very much it should (hopefully) do me till then. I’ve paid my bills, and I’ll have my bus pass to get to doctor’s appointments or whatever, so I’ll survive. I think. I hope. :|

100.8 today. It looks like a loss, but I've gained and lost so much over the last week or so that I've barely lost any real weight. Stupid Easter (two Easter dinners on two consecutive nights) and then stupid me eating extra. Apparently any extra at all sends me soaring weight-wise, and it's now a bitch to try and actually lose anything. I suppose I should have expected that my metabolism would screw up on me at some point. *sigh* Makes things harder, though not impossible. And I definitely CANNOT afford any more screw-ups!!

My next dread is going to be my mother's birthday supper/cake... luckily I can get out of the dinner out with her family, as she won't pay for any of us because it's her birthday, and I sure as fuck don't have the cash to pay an extra $20 for a meal I don't even want to fucking eat. So I'll skip the restaurant outing. But the home dinner... lord knows what she'll have. They'll probably just cook meatless meatballs for me, which is their standard thing to do when they have chicken/beef/fish/etc and sides, because they bought a whole box of them so there are still a million left. And then I'll have the rice/potatoes/whatever on the side... and of course the obligatory piece of dessert. *sigh*

Oh well. I can't even keep my cals down low enough now... I'll probably give in happily on the day of my mother's birthday supper. I have no fucking willpower. Weakling.

101.9. Still under my line, though... by a whole day, in fact. And I'm on day 2 of my period (my heavy, crampy day -- woo-hoo), so I can expect to lose another half pound to pound solely from the water weight I gain just before my period. Usually it's a pound, but when I'm losing weight during that week it sort of seems to blend with the other weight loss. So I won't see a random 1 lbs drop in a day... I'm more likely to see 2 or 3 good drops, one of which is likely to contain at least half a pound I wasn't expecting. Either way it will leave me, and (hopefully!!!) that means I'll be even more below my line. I'm counting on this because I suspect my weight loss is going to slow in a couple of weeks, so I'd like it to be as fast as possible in the initial stages, so I'm not worrying as much about plateaus or slow losses later.

In the meantime, I need to go take a pill for my cramps. Ugh. Day 2 is the worst. [TMI WARNING] Didn't help that I woke up leaking and had to hold a towel to myself as I raced for the bathroom. Very dignity-inspiring, I can assure you. Ha. But only my cat is ever there to see anything, and he had no idea what was going on, so it's all good.

I gotta try and get through at least the DVDs I borrowed from the library. I had intended to go and bring some stuff back and pay off my debt to under $5, but I don't have the money anymore, because of that outing I had with my friend the day before yesterday. So I'm gonna have to wait till next payday to do it. Everything's due two days after my next cheque anyway, so I'll pay the fine back then. As much of it as I can, if not all of it. I don't want to owe money, especially to a library... because we all know libraries don't exactly have much in the way of money to begin with. I'd say a lot of benefactors and donators keep that library open. So I kinda feel like a bad person for owing the library like 15+ dollars and not paying it back right away. But it's also not my fault that I'm poor as fuck. And sometimes I wanna go out and have fun with my friends... and I couldn't not eat in front of this particular friend after 4-5 hours out because I already know she's worried about me, so my last $10 went towards a pita and a can of diet soda. Oh well. I WILL pay the library back. I really will. It just can't happen for awhile longer.

102.1. Binged last night after taking my Seroquel (because I didn't go to bed right away), but somehow I lost a pound. Maybe I can attribute it to the 4+ hours I spent standing up and/or walking around with my friend Lynn yesterday. Or maybe the eating is just going to catch up with me tomorrow instead of today. Either way... I'll take it.

I made myself a "plan" to try and lose to <90 by the date I next see my psychiatrist. So far, at least, I am at or under my "line". I have to lose 0.388 lbs a day to be at my "line", so of course I just round that up to .4. Why by the time I next see the pdoc? Because I don't feel like he takes me or my eating disorder seriously. Because I don't think he gets how bad things really are in my head. I don't think he truly understands that I can't deal. And the only way I actually seem to get his attention is if I lose weight, probably mostly because that's a symptom he doesn't necessarily hear about every day (he doesn't know much about EDs, and his specialty is inpatient bipolar and schizophrenia treatment).

And as for the losing weight itself... well, all the same reasons for that still apply anyway. It's only that my per-day and per-week weight goals have sort of become more solidified with this "plan". Even if I can only accomplish most of the weight loss, it will still be significant enough to notice... ot least I think it will. Of course, I'm probably not going to accept any "treatment" he will think he can throw at me, either. I want him to see that I mean what I say (such as when I said, "Do you think the restriction is just going to stop?") and also that I am not so easy to make better. Which he knows intellectually, but I don't think he realizes it. I think he thinks I can keep it together for the most part and that sometimes I just have crises. I want to prove him the fuck wrong. Because he IS wrong.

103.5. How the fuck did I gain five pounds in ONE WEEK? What the fuck, body??? I'd already decided that this eating thing is not for me, but now I have solid physical evidence to back me up.

Fuck this shit. I will not have it anymore.