I had forgotten the way binging feels -- the sticky warmth of it, the way I feel like a failure for having so much food in me in the first place. Not that I always used to feel like a failure for binging. Right now I don't mind purging at all, but lately I hate anything and everything to do with binges. The anticipation, the rush, the frank enjoyment of the food... they're just not there anymore. I mean, I like the way the food tastes or whatever, but I don't *relish* it the way I used to. It's really fucking odd for me not to enjoy a binge.

I don't know what else to write.

Today I weighed myself for the first time in weeks and was a little afraid of what I'd see... but the scale again read 125.4. What's more, I had food/water weight in me at the time, which means I probably lost like... a pound since last weigh-in. I think that's fairly awesome, considering I haven't been doing much towards losing any weight lately.

One of my pairs of size 30 jeans (the loosest ones) are also starting to get a teeny bit looser on me, and I'm also a little bit closer to making the 11th notch on my belt. I can actually do it UP now, at least, whereas before the belt simply would not stretch to 11.

W00t.

[but i still want more.]

I'm beginning to seriously debate whether I want to stay at M House anymore. Actually, "want" isn't even the right word. It's not so much a matter of whether I want to as of whether I am actually able to. At this point, there are times when it's hard to see what end is up, let alone figure out whether I can ultimately handle dealing with my issues here.

The biggest problem is that there are issues cropping up for me now that I'm not sure I even want to talk about here, in large part because it kind of involves people here, and it's so stupid and ridiculous that I already feel like an idiot for making such a big deal about it. But I'm not even as afraid of seeming like an idiot as I am of them finding out about this shit. Cognitive distortions: because *I* can't handle it, I assume no one else is going to be able to either. Or, at least, I assume they can't handle it here. Maybe someone who's actually trained to handle this shit can handle it. Which is my way of saying I'm thinking of trying to discuss it with my psychologist, but don't want to talk to anyone else about it, aside from maybe M or A. But I feel like I can't deal with anything else until I deal with this, and since I can't talk about it at M House (according to me), it basically fucks everything up for me here until it is resolved. Which may take weeks, months, even years. I just don't fucking know.

I feel like this entry is super disorganized. Is it? I feel like even in talking about this stuff here my brain is flying around all over the place. I am irritable and edgy and getting harder and harder to live with or have a productive conversation about my "issues" with, and if I'm being honest, I can't see the end in sight to this shit. I'm tired of not being able to mute myself out with my "negative coping mechanisms", tired of my completely ridiculous mood swings lately, tired of obsessing about suicide because I lack any other way of dealing with my horribly intense feelings. I'm just tired of all of it. I want out, NOW. Only I can't get out.

I wonder how I lived through 2006, feeling like this. Because I know that this is how I felt basically all the time. I guess it's true that I did try pretty hard not to live through it. I wanted someone to shut off my brain, to take all this dysphoria and pain away from me, and no one could do it, and I simply could not control myself. Eventually, though, I discovered ED, which led to being able to mute all the intense feelings I couldn't deal with or control, but also led to a whole host of other shit. And, now, trying to recover from all the behaviors has just led straight the fuck back to THIS. All this shit I never wanted to feel or have to deal with ever again. And I still can't deal with it.

So now I'm left with wonderful options. Stay here, and try to deal with the undealable, or leave, and jump right back into disorders. Which option is better? Which option is worse? Can I find some happy medium where I self-destruct just enough to deal, until such time as I can actually confront the real issues? Is that even possible for me?

I'm so confused and fucked up. And sometimes I'm afraid I really do need to stick the adverb "hopelessly" in that sentence.

What do you do when you have no fucking idea what to do??

Sometimes I just figure I will die from all this shit eventually. And then I start wondering why I am bothering to try and prolong the inevitable. But then sometimes I think I can actually get better, and I have to keep trying or I never WILL get better.

I am massively ambivalent about recovery, and it's tearing me apart. The self-destructive drive is SO STRONG right now, and yet the side that wants recovery has some strength as well, particularly because that side is being highly supported by M House. If I wasn't here, I can say with fair certainty that the recovery side wouldn't even have a chance. As it is, though, both sides are pulling at me, screaming at me, trying to force me to make a choice, and I haven't got the first fucking clue what to do. All I know is that this may slowly drive me even crazier than I already was.


I have to eat supper soon. :/

The suicidal thoughts are starting to become more of a chronic condition than an acute, episodic thing. I don't think that's good, really, but I feel rather indifferent to it most of the time. It probably doesn't scare me like it should. It just feels like... the way things are. The way my brain works. It also feels, at this point, like something I've always had and always will have, although I realize logically that this last part isn't true. It just feels true.

Today my ninth belt notch is not as tight as it was. Yay!!

I'm sorry if I sound like some kind of bubbly school girl in these posts, by the way. I forgot how heady this stuff can feel initially. I can't exactly call it the fasting high, since I'm not fasting, but maybe you could call it a restriction high. Sort of. I think it has just as much to do with the fact that doing this makes me feel like I actually have some kind of purpose, and am working towards something I actually WANT, instead of something I feel like I should do. You know?

Anyway, I have to go try to do some more Latin, since I was a moron and decided I needed lots more work in my life -.-. I'll probably write something again soon-ish. Hopefully, at least.

125.4. OMG OMG OMG. You have nooo idea how happy this makes me. This was in my skivvies, after 1.5 cups of dehydrating coffee, a BM, and no food so far today, but still. That's exactly the weight I came back from Homewood with!! I never thought I'd see that number again.

But I need to lose more. I am still far too fat. 120 is the absolute minimum, but ideally I'd like at least the mid to high teens somewhere. It's just a matter of how much I can get away with before staff finds out. I guess I will find out the limits pretty soon.

And if I can't restrict a lot, well... there's always exercise, I guess.

Being at my old house seems to be a trigger. Hmmm. Maybe it's just because I realize afresh how stupid and fucking pointless my life actually is while I'm here.

On the up side, I got on my scale tonight, wearing only my t-shirt and undergarments, and it said 127.2. OMG WTF. I am ridiculously happy about this. Also, I tried on a pair of my old size 10 jeans and they fit!! *does a happy dance* I know size 10 probably doesn't seem very small, but compared to a 12 it feels like I'm a million times smaller. 12 is just fucking ridiculous, anyway. Gargantuanely fat. Especially on someone who's only 5'3.5". Size 10 is not small, but at least I'm not quite as GROSS AND FAT as I used to be. Gotta try and keep hold of my eating, though, so that I don't gain anything. I think I will freak the fuck out if I gain much from where I am right now. And by "much" I mean like... more than a pound. But more especially if I gain the pant size back. I DO NOT WANT TO GAIN THAT SIZE BACK.

Crazycrazycrazy.

Today is one of those days when I don't want to be alive. I'm not actively suicidal, per se... I just really don't want to be here.

Only two days left! Huzzah!

I'm going to see a play today with a couple of friends. It's about a gay guy in a concentration camp who falls in love with another gay guy. Fascination with the Holocaust + LBGT themes = a good show, I hope. Has the potential to be profound. Yadda yadda yadda.

And since I have some time now, I guess I'll tell you about the psychological assessment, as I promised I would do before. None of it was very surprising in any way. DSM-wise, it went something like this:

Axis I: Dysthymic Disorder; Identity Problems
Axis II: No diagnosis, but characteristics of Borderline Personality Disorder
Axis III: GERD (acid reflux disease) and PCOS (hormone disorder)
Axis IV: I can't remember what this said, if anything. There might have been something there, but if there was it was fairly obvious, so obvious that I didn't take much note of it.
Axis V: This was the Global Assessment Functioning scale. My GAS level was rated as a current 50, but for the past year as a 60.


So, yeah - nothing terribly surprising in that, for me at least. I've known about the dysthymia and borderline crap for a long time. It is interesting to me, though, that neither my ED nor my anxiety received any diagnostic attention. I can only assume that neither, at this point, must seem serious enough to qualify, or something. On the other hand, it was a full report, and the report itself contained some details about the b/ping and my "drive for thinness" (which apparently doesn't mean I have to actively be trying to get thinner - just that I always want to BE thinner). The anxiety was sort of mentioned in with the borderline stuff, and not so much as a separate thing, except for maybe in passing.

Anyway, I have to go check in yet again, so I guess that's all for now. Comments and queries are always welcome! Heh.

So I'm still in the psych ward, but things are looking up a bit, I guess. I got accepted to M House, so I'm going there next Monday at 1. Which means I have to stay here till then -- but I can get a pass basically whenever I want one, so at least I can get away sometimes, you know? I'm going to go visit my friends at school tomorrow, I think. I haven't seen them since the Friday before I got admitted.

They just called a level 2 code white on one of the units. Code white, for those who don't know, is the code for violence. I've been surprised by how few have been called, especially on my ward, which is one of the acute care wards. There have only been three, and they were all within the same week, and all on the same guy. He was manic and refusing to take meds, but he was also certified, meaning involuntary, so he had no choice about taking them. They threw him in TQ all three times. Apparently that means "therapeutic quiet". You know, one of those little rooms with nothing in it but a blue gym mat -- or, actually, in his case, not even that. Just a tiny, freezingly cold bare room. You come out, essentially, when you quiet down.

Ah, the tales of the psych ward. Honestly, mostly I just keep to myself a lot in there. Keeps me away from most of the chaos. I prefer that.

Anyway, at least I'll be out of here somewhat soon! I can't wait. Hospitals generally suck, even though I have to admit that I did get some decent help here. My psychiatrist really knows what he's doing, and the inpatient psychologist is pretty good too. Hopefully I'll write more about my assessment with her later, but for now I have to go check in at the ward.

Toodles!

To make a long story short: I'm in the hospital, and the only way I can get on blog sites is via my phone. I can check my email on the library computer, though. In fact, I have to head there very soon (it opens again in about 10 minutes).

Also, my parents have told me that I am not allowed to come back home, so now I have to find a place to stay. One suggestion they've made to me is a place called M House, which is like a therapeutic group home. The average stay is usually about 3-4 months, and they have individual and group therapies as well as life skills training groups, etc. I still haven't decided if I think it will be a good fit for me, but I think I'm closer to the side of putting in an application and seeing what happens. They have to do an interview and stuff anyway, so it's not like just applying would get me accepted right away, you know?

Anyway, gotta go. Peace out.

Honestly? I just want to die. I'm so tired of everything.

fighting horrible thoughts, again.

fuckshitfuck.

Found this in an old entry and wanted to do it again... so here it is!

Hello I am

adult, alien, artsy, big sister, blonde, butch-liking, caring, cat lover, chapstick lesbian, child, complex, confused, cousin, curious, cute, daughter, different, dreamer, dyke, eclectic, family-closeted, female, female-born, femme-ish, femme-liking, friendly, gay, genetic woman, girl, girl lover, hypo-sexual, intelligent, introvert, LGBTQ, lesbian, lesbo, lezzy, little sister, Ms., me, monogamist, multifacetted, nerd, not sure of myself, odd, out-ish, passionate, passive, philosopher, pro-choice, pro-gay, progressive, quiz whore, right-brained, sensitive, sexless, she-geek, suicidal, survivor, treehugger, trustworthy, virgin, weird, whole-brained, woman

Who are you?