Dietician appointment in a little over two hours. My ridiculous physical symptoms of yesterday (heart going nuts every time I stood up or walked anywhere) seems to be gone today, so I guess I don't have to worry about getting vitals done or some shit. Not that I'm convinced she would do it, but anyway. To be honest I don't even see the point in going, because I don't honestly see how I can up my cal intake at this point, and that's pretty much why I would visit an RD at this point. But I guess it's good to keep some sort of connection with someone who actually knows about EDs. It might be helpful later on, too, if I actually try to get into residential again, which is something I'm seriously thinking about.

The problem is that in Canada, there are extremely few options when it comes to residential eating disorder treatment, and any inpatient treatment is basically reserved for only the most emaciated, death-bed anorexics (like programs in true hospitals). I've already been to Homewood, and I know another stint wouldn't help me again for various reasons. They diagnosed me as anorexic and yet put me on a weight maintenance contract; they have NO individual therapy (what kind of treatment facility has no individual therapy??); they allowed me to gain 18 lbs in 5 weeks when I was supposedly on weight "maintenance"; I could go on and on. But it's not going to help this time partially because of the lack of individual therapy, but also partly because they absolutely do not support suicidality in the program. In fact, I had to be three months three of a suicide attempt before they even let me in. Not to mention that if you cut even once there it was a dealbreaker -- as in, they could dismiss you from the program for doing it. Which is SO ludicrous, because so many people with ED issues also have self-harm issues, and a facility as supposedly great as Homewood should be able to deal with it without one cut being a fucking dealbreaker. I mean, how stupid is that?

Another facility I've been considering is Bellwood. This one is in Toronto proper (Homewood is in Guelph, about 45 mins outside Toronto) and is based on the 12 steps. Obviously, most of the programming there is for addictions. I sent them an online message about whether they have individual therapy, can deal with clients who traditionally get suicidal when not having their addiction/ED (because I do consider the ED an addiction, or certainly addiction-like), and whether they can handle people with borderline traits. I also requested that if they could not do these things, if they could recommend somewhere that could. I don't know how long it will take them to get back to me, but I hope they can actually tell me something helpful, because where treatment is concerned I'm seriously at the end of my rope.

I've done M House twice (first time for four months, which is the full stay, and the second time for almost two). I'm doing the ED IOP program for the second time, now, and am doing far worse in it now than I did last time, although admittedly I had a much better start. But things have deteriorated ridiculously. I've lost 10+ pounds with no signs of stopping, I'm taking laxatives every day, I intentionally don't drink liquids I think will hydrate me (basically any drink without caffeine). I still get ridiculous SI urges, but I've been able to ignore most of them. The suicidality is just being kept at bay by the self-harm/dehydration with laxatives. It's just... I don't know how much longer this extremely unstable balance is going to hold. I do know that sooner or later, something will give, and more likely than not I'll either end up in a hospital (which I HATE), dead, or permanently injured somehow. I loathe every single one of those options, actually, but I can't seem to avoid it when I get, or am getting, in truly awful states of mind.

I really do have a very strong mind, you know. I endure a lot more mentally than probably many other people could. But it's because my head has been so full of SHIT and distortion my whole life that my mind has naturally had to be stronger, to cope with it all. It's not some wonderful gift someone bestowed upon me, and I take zero credit for it. If someone has to lift increasingly heavy weights his or her own life, every day, eventually that person is going to develop really great upper body strength. And it may seem awesome to someone looking in on it, but that person remembers the weights, the every day, the strain, the muscle tears, the pain, the stiffness, the suffering of it all. In the end, the final product looks completely different from what it took to actually get there.

I dunno if I'm making much sense anymore. Just that... I want OUT, so badly, and I was desperate enough to email Bellwood for myself, and hopefully I'll ask about more options when I see my dietician today. All I really want is like a comprehensive list of residential (or even inpatient) treatments in Canada that don't require you to be an emaciated anorexic on your deathbed. So far I only know of three residential places, and one is private and extremely kooky (and I wouldn't qualify anyway, because they don't let you in if you already take medications, and I can't stop my meds or baaaad things will happen). The two IP places I know of are the ones that only take emaciated anorexics. Soooo... I don't know yet, but I guess I'll find out sooner or later. I hope I will.

Warning: Entry contains eating disorder and suicidality triggers

I keep thinking I need to do more treatment. Somewhere, anywhere. Then I could finally face the things that make me suicidal head-on, and learn to deal with them. The only problem is, I have no idea where to go for this.

M House? I just left there. Plus I don't think I'm prepared to go back for a third time, especially since it's not even two months since I left. I mean... sometimes you've gotten all you're going to get out of a particular program, you know? Sometimes enough's enough.

HOPE? I do that already, and they can't help me with any of the deeper issues. The only chance is the psychologist, but she has a 2-3 month wait list right now, and even then she is technically only supposed to do short-term therapy.

An eating disorder program? They usually can't handle the acute suicidality, or the chronic stuff either. I would have to talk explicitly about that with any sort of ED residential I could apply for. And they'd have to have individual therapy, which a place like Homewood, for example, does not. And Homewood is supposed to be a "top of the line" treatment in Canada. There really aren't that many other options.

Why the fuck don't they have a program for people with BPD in Canada, seriously? It's actually ludicrous. Bullshit. I know that what awaits me, under the ED, the depression, anxiety... it's the borderline part trying to come out. The part that fucking HATES me, that hates me so much that I want to destroy myself, slice myself to pieces, burn myself away, take an overdose so I just fucking DIE already. Only I never actually die, because then the small part of rationality that always seems to remain gets me to tell on myself -- tell a friend, call the paramedics, go to a hospital. I can never seem to actually complete a suicide attempt. And the hospitals around here? Well, they're a fucking joke, really. I was in HSC in June, short stay not long ago, and neither one of them could do anything that TRULY helped the suicidality. Both were holding bins until I could get my act together enough that I wouldn't actually try to complete suicide. Neither meant that the suicidal thoughts actually stopped once I got out.

But the ones that loom right behind ED for me, now... they are the sorts of urges I can't ignore. I feel, within some deeper part of my being, that they are right. That I've had enough of this shit, and I'm not getting any proper help, and it looks like I won't for a long time, so FUCK THIS FUCKING LIFE. I am seriously sick of all this shit now. I just want out. I want out I want out I want out.

But I can't overtly kill myself. Fine. So I take laxatives a couple of times a day, go through excruciating cramps and bouts of very watery diarrhea. So I eat less, and try not to eat foods with a lot of potassium or salt. I start eating and purging, because not allowing ANY food doesn't seem to work anymore, knowing that purging is also getting rid of fluids, potassium, electrolytes generally. So I stop taking my iron pills any more than once every 3-4 days -- just enough to make me non-anemic, because getting short of breath and having ZERO energy make me want to eat more. Never take the proper dosages, because I don't deserve to get fully physically better, and anyway, completely fixing a medical problem brought on by ED seems counter to my goals here. So I pursue the eating disorder, and self-destruction, with every moment of my day when I actually stop to think, and I build it up gradually, to build up my tolerance, and maybe soon this whole fucking piece of bullshit I call a life will finally be done with. Accidentally, one day. Oops, heart skipped one too many beats. Oops, passed out. Oops, accidental death, don't know when it's coming, won't tell on myself, it's not really fatal till it's actually fatal, and if it happens I won't be around to see the consequences.

This is where my head is lately. And it is a fucking awful place to be.

I fucking hate life. I fucking hate... everything.

I guess I'm sort of in relapse mode, now. I've only lost about 4 lbs, making my real weight about 117 (scale weight with clothes and food is about 120), but I am purposely not eating nearly what I should, and some days I hardly eat anything at all. I went away this weekend, and ate fairly normally throughout the weekend, so now apparently I have to restrict a lot to "make up" for it. Even though I know I couldn't have GAINED any weight this weekend, the fact that I'm pretty sure I didn't lose any is apparently a problem.

I also bought laxatives today, and took 4 a few hours ago (dose on package is 1-2, but the package dose NEVER works for me). I didn't even buy them to be "empty", as I still have fairly regular BMs... I just did it to lower my electrolytes, and to put myself through physical discomfort and/or pain. I just... feel like I deserve it, so much. I really really do.

I was suicidal practically every night last week... I actually ended up inpatient on Monday night, because it was getting bad enough that I was planning how I'd do it, and I think I actually would have taken an OD had I not gone into hosp that afternoon. My stay was completely useless, though -- the "team" at short stay doesn't have a fucking clue about psychological disorders, and consequently couldn't do shit for me. They couldn't even speed up my psychology referral at T Clinic (I've probably got at least another YEAR till I get a new therapist). So I asked to go home the next day at around lunchtime, and within an hour or so I was discharged. I didn't even have to fight with them. But I knew the psychiatrist would let me go, because I framed things when I spoke to her as a "freakout" (which is not exactly the right term for it), plus I was resisting everything the "team" was telling me, because it was all bullshit. (Well, it was.)

Of course, I still can't deal psychologically with my life, and if I keep thinking like that about suicide I'm going to end up in hosp again, and I cannot fucking STAND that ward, and I want to remain out of there if at all possible. But not acting on the suicidal urges doesn't make them go away... it just makes me need another, different method of holding back those particular thoughts. So... apparently ED is starting to return to its former place in my life.

After everything I worked so hard for... I came to a psychological challenge that I absolutely cannot deal with on my own, and no one can help me, so here I am, going back to where I started again. I am fucking PISSED about it, really truly, but I feel like there's nothing I can do about it right now or I will literally go insane, and/or actually end up dead this time, because I'm fed up with turning myself in. So... what's worse, destroying my soul with an eating disorder and yet leaving my physical body alive for longer, or killing the physical body when it's the mind I really want to kill, and in actual fact I don't truly want to die? I really don't fucking know at this point. I just know the option I prefer, and it isn't the suicide one.

I just cannot seem to cope as of about five days ago, but it’s not something that’s going to go away quickly... and I get to my wit’s end about it every day. The only thing keeping me from doing something horrible to myself tonight is the fact that I’m going out of town for a few days tomorrow, which is something that I hope will keep me distracted and on the happier side for at least that time period.

I know one thing I need — therapy — but I can’t get that for quite a long time yet. (At least 2-3 months, and even then it might only be short-term therapy.) I have NO fucking idea how I’m going to continue to deal with this horrible, awful emotional pain EVERY GODDAMNED DAY until then... and probably longer still after that, since it will obviously take awhile to start dealing with it. I can’t imagine how I’m going to make it through every single one of those fucking days.

My new mantra is: Fuck food, and fuck life.

It's stupid... I'm eating again, I'm eating somewhat intuitively now (although it can't fully be trusted yet), and I'm actually sort of okay with being this big (I am definitely at least 125 by now), and yet here I am contemplating throwing it all down the shitter and just going with my eating disorder again.

Why?

Because other people seem to have it soooo fucking easy with their disorders. They never have to face up to responsibility, or risk, or crazy anxiety because they're worried about how to pay their ridiculous bills, or what they're going to do in school, or what the hell is going to happen if they ever meet someone they want to be with and their intimacy issues crop up. Nooo. Other people get to dive into their eating disorders or self-harm or whatever, and get all the numbness and comfort from it, and never face f*cking reality. But meanwhile here I am, slogging through real life, actually trying to fucking do something for myself... and what am I actually getting out of it?

Stupid crazy anxiety. A fucked-up sleep cycle, in part because I've had so many fucking med changes lately, and every time I increase my Seroquel just by 12.5 mg I am asleep for 12-13 hours because it sedates me so badly. Days when I can't even go out, because the thought of having to be in the world and face it is so incredibly overwhelming that I can't handle it. Depression, when I have moments where I'm so sick of doing the same shit over again, yet I know I have to find some way to be content with the same things over and over, because I'm so fucking poor that I can't afford anything different.

And then I start reading shit online about emotional neglect, childhood neglect, and it makes me think all this effort at recovery is fucking worthless anyway. Because my parents will NEVER admit they could have been emotionally neglectful, even unintentionally (and I do believe it was unintentional), so how the fuck can I ever fix it? I'm probably gonna wait another 2 fucking YEARS to see a psychologist at T Clinic, and until then I have... what, a social worker who does "counseling"? I need real fucking THERAPY for this shit. And I can never find anybody who will fucking do it, and do it RIGHT.

Hopelessness. That's what this is. And wanting an easy way out, because the hard way seems like it's never going to work, and I don't know what the fuck to do anymore, and I'm trying SO FUCKING HARD and this is not working. What more do I have to do to make this work?? What more do I have to do not to suffer from depression/dysthymia, anxiety, the [very large] remnants of emotional neglect? What more do I have to do to be comfortable with my sexuality, to be comfortable telling boys who think I'm attractive or nice that, sorry, I'm actually gay? What more do I have to do to actually be fucking OKAY, and BELIEVE that I am okay????

I am just... so incredibly frustrated. And I hate all this fucking bullshit. Maybe I would feel better if I, too, pulled into myself and destroyed myself and just became a selfish, dismayed, petulant child again. Maybe I fucking would.

I am out of treatment... I left M House on Monday night. I feel reasonably comfortable about this, as I'm fairly secure in my meal plan these days, managed to recover from a few "slips" on my own, and almost all my overnight and weekend passes had gone without a hitch. Basically, I felt I didn't need to actually be living at M House to continue on the level of recovery I've achieved so far. I wrote up three specific goals when I went to M House, as this was a requirement for going back, and I definitely feel I've made some significant progress on those goals.


1. Eat at least 3 meals and 1-2 snacks daily; also make whatever changes/increases dietician recommends. NO binging and/or purging. - I had a few slips, yes, but they did remain only slips, and I managed to get back on the rails and back to my full meal plan and my no binging, no purging. Currently I usually eat 3 meals and 2 snacks per day, but an extra snack may come into play if I stay up particularly late (night snack), or get up and eat breakfast earlier than usual (morning snack). If I'm having a day where I've been feeling particularly hungry all day, I look at my protein intake, which at least 8-9 times out of 10 is where I've erred (sometimes I'm not paying enough attention and don't get quite as much protein as I should). If I am hungrier than usual, I don't ignore it. I need to feed my body the fuel that it requires to get through a day.


2. Learn and USE new coping skills to help with underlying depression, anxiety, and/or emotional distress (eg mindfulness, distractions, whatever). - I definitely feel that I've done this, too. Positivity ended up being a huge factor in this, actually; I turned my previous thinspo Tumblr (yeah, yeah, I know) into an extremely positive, recovery-oriented Tumblr, and I started seeking out Tumblr and Twitter folk to follow who were posting very positive, helpful messages. Affirmations also helped a little in the beginning, and continue to help when I'm having a particularly bad moment.

Another tool I found invaluable when at the very beginning of my stay at M House was reading. I read several very very good books within the span of a couple of weeks: Jenni Schaefer's "Life Without Ed" and "Goodbye Ed, Hello Me", which were absolutely amazing, as well as a couple of other positive books, or books that really made me think (such as "A Stroke of Insight" and "The Boy Who Was Raised As A Dog"). These gave me a really good foundation for outside of myself that #1, recovery WAS possible, evidenced by the fact that someone else had done it and had all sorts of specific and helpful tidbits outlined in her books, and #2, that I was sick not because there was something wrong with me, or because life had done me wrong so often that it was impossible to get out of it, but because bad things happened and my brain did wonky things with the bad stuff. My brain definitely had a predisposition to go "wonky", as everyone's who has mental illness does, and once certain pathways in the brain are set up and reinforced so many times, it becomes easier and easier to think like that. And, of course, when critical pathways are ignored, such as the ability to think non-negatively or to cope with emotions or hard times without disorders, they fade away and get rerouted elsewhere.

So I guess, for me, what made a HUGE difference was realizing that my sickness really was not part of me, but rather was a complex set of layers of brain pathways all trained to go in the wrong directions and make faulty assumptions. Crucial to fixing those, however, was having the new, positive, other-perspective input (such as Jenni's books, or affirmations I felt I could come to believe) to put in there instead. Focusing on the negative never fixes you. Instead of saying something like "I am not worthless", for example, you need to say "I am worthy". In the first statement, even though you're saying you're NOT that, what your brain hears is the word "worthless", which further reinforces the pathway you have built up for worthless. Using "I am worthy" instead will create the new pathway for "worthy" and allow you to start thinking about what makes you worthy, why you feel you're not worthy, etc, so you can work on any issues that crop up, and once you've done that begin to truly believe that you ARE worthy.


3. Come to a greater acceptance of my sexuality. - This is a trickier one, as it's a longer-term issue and involves all the underlying self-esteem issues, my avoidant-type fear of anyone hating me, etc. I did not write this as "Learn to accept my sexuality" for that exact reason. I do believe that I did come to better terms with it during my stay, although I know I would certainly still have my fears about intimacy, certain individuals finding out, etc. However, I think I would be able to cope with things like that if it came down to it, now; and I don't hate myself and my feelings (and desires) with a passion anymore. So there is some improvement there.



And now... I have to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life, and what I need to accomplish to get there. It's figuring out what I want to do that's the hardest part. I am leaning towards a degree in sociology, even though I know it is hard to get a job with such a degree... then again, that's what graduate school could be for, if I decide to go that route. But if I change my degree halfway through, or decide at some point that I don't actually WANT a degree, then I can change, or stop school altogether. I am actually allowing myself to make decisions like that if I want to, which is a BIG step. Before this, I felt basically obligated to get a university bachelor's degree; nothing else would ever do. But if I did decide that trade school, or just jumping into some job, was the better thing for me to do at some point, I WOULD now do it. The fact that what I want to do still coincides with a bachelor's degree is just a happenstance, really. You know?

I think I'm done writing for now. Feel free to send any comments or questions or whatever. It's probable that I've left quite a bit out of this entry that maybe should be here, for better clarity of what exactly has gone through my head in these last couple of months.

Had another fucking slip last night... had a mini binge, and then purged. I decided I really REALLY wanted some Kraft Dinner last night, so I started making it, but maybe halfway through it cooking figured out I wasn't actually hungry. Rather than just not eating it, though, I was craving it so badly that I had a rather large bowl. After that I couldn't get the thought of b/ping out of my head, especially because I had (stupidly) gone and read the Purgatorium on LJ (a bulimia community), and it made me remember all the comfort and fun I used to get out of bulimia, and it really made me miss it. So both of those things combined with feeling lonely and kind of hating my life lead me to eat the rest of the box of KD, and then purge.

Of course, after I did it I felt like complete shit about myself, and got really pessimistic about my ability to actually stay in recovery once I leave M House. However, the rational part of me can see some things that I can change in the future so I don't find myself in this situation again, such as actually taking all the KD out of my house (since it was a binge food, and I have at least 7-8 boxes in my cupboard), making sure I have no other triggering foods in my house (like the bunch of chocolate my sister brought to me from my mom for Easter), not going on sites like the Purg, etc. So... I don't know. Part of me really really REALLY wants to b/p again, because that addict in me wants it so fucking badly, but the other part of me is planning what I can do so I don't slip again, or at least not in the same way. I guess I just... don't get my mind right now.

I need to actually think, and write, in detail about all the things I fear happening once I leave M House, and all the things that are bothering me lately. Once I do that I may be able to think of solutions that just aren't coming to me with it all swimming around in my head, popping in and out seemingly randomly. I just wish writing about my life and what bothers me was easier.

There are times when I really, really hate recovery. Unfortunately, this is one of them emoticon. But I have to keep going on.... I can't NOT go on. This is my life, and if I don't work at making it better, and keep myself on track generally, nobody else is going to. And that's the shittiest part of all about it. I don't get a break, and I can't have one, because recovery is not just something I can enter and leave whenever... it is built into my LIFE, and that is an inherent trait about it. I literally cannot escape it, much as I may want to sometimes. And I am definitely itching to escape it lately.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Eating's back on track a little more today... I did skip breakfast, aside from a coffee, but after supper I was able to allow myself a couple extra slices of toast w/ marg & jam, which mostly made up for the calories. Everything else was fairly "normal" (as in, on my usual eating schedule). I'm pretty much okay with this, for now... I just hope it lasts. I really do hope so.

Now if I could figure out why it is I feel so dysphoric or anxious or down when I do, and could work on it... that would be wonderful. *sigh*

Okay, so... up until a few days ago, I was doing really really well. Like extraordinarily well. But in the last couple of days my mindset has started to slip a bit. I had the experience of a renewed intensity in my belief about being fat, being horribly disproportionate, having a ridiculously fatty and bulgy midsection, etc etc. This in turn has led to a lot of self-hatred, which I think is what's been leading me into the more volatile, negative moods I've been having.

It didn't manage to creep into my eating patterns until today, though. Today's breakfast was not the usual (a large bowl of higher-calorie cereal with soymilk and a coffee with creamer) because I had no cereal I wanted to eat in my apartment (I'm home on an overnight pass); instead of it was a bowl of oatmeal, a slice of ww toast with peanut butter, and about half a coffee with almond milk. Calorically, this is at least 100-200 calories less than what I usually have for breakfast. Then I delayed snack by at least an hour... though I did have a fairly normal-sized snack, as calorically it was about the same as my usual snacks. However, my supper was missing any fruit or veg exchanges (I usually have at least 1-2), and I don't have any desserts here, either, so I didn't eat dessert. And now it's around when I would usually have snack if I was hungry (I am), but for some reason I'm not letting myself have anything.

I just... I don't understand why I'm being so stupid. I KNOW I need to eat, and I know it's incredibly ridiculous, not to mention dangerous, not to eat all my exchanges, especially when my hunger cues are still not fully operational yet. (I do generally know when I am hungry [though not always], but it's a very rapidly onsetting hunger, and if I leave it alone for more than half an hour or so I get really weak and fuzzy-brained and stuff.) Physically, I feel rather crappy at the moment, since I DO feel fairly weak and fuzzy-brained. And yet... I can't challenge it right now, or maybe am choosing not to, because the emotional fallout and anxiety from forcing myself to eat more would be more than I can handle right now. I self-injured the other night, and it was because I hated myself so much, and felt so awful, that I felt like I deserved it, and needed to do it. I don't like that horribly intense, destructive headspace, and I can't deal with it alone... and right now I guess I don't feel like the staff at M House could do enough for me to keep it at bay right now. I feel like even with their support (talking to them, etc) I would not be able to get rid of this thing, or properly fight it whatsoever. I just... can't do it.

I fucking hate my stupid motherfucking brain.

Eating my usual meals and snacks, and not binging and purging, has gotten slightly easier. On the other hand, I am feeling a lot of things that I really don't want to feel, and it sucks pretty hard. Of course, I knew this would happen, but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with, unfortunately :/. BUT I seem to be coming up with a decent amount of insights already, and I haven't even been here for two weeks. Knowing the reasons for things is helpful, because it allows me to challenge old assumptions and beliefs that I otherwise would never have been able to challenge (because I would have just assumed they were all inescapably true, and would think it was too difficult, or even absurd, to question them).

For example, if I had assumed I was deserving of pain because nobody really loves me (in a general sense), I can look at the times in my life when I didn't perceive that I was loved, and figure out from that where it all sort of started, and the circumstances behind it. Knowing that my mother was a huge source of I-never-feel-loved, and realizing that she likely has issues of her own that prevent her from being able to express her love in a way that I can intuitively understand and believe, helps me to be able to reframe things, and say to myself, "Actually, she did love you. She just didn't know how to show it." And so even though my experiences still hurt, and still make me feel angry with her (and slightly bitter), I have the basis to be able to think that maybe I was loved, or maybe in the future I could be loved.

There are about a thousand and one faulty assumptions and beliefs I have that need to be challenged this way, and I know it's going to take awhile to sink in... not to mention that on an emotional level I still need to process the hurts, and all the other feelings that come with all the crap in my head. My brain, as I have discovered, can move a hell of a lot more quickly than my feelings. So all this cognitive work is going to have to be applied and applied and applied, a thousand times over, before my emotions are even going to recognize it, let alone accept it.

I am realizing that if I wait to be ready, or to feel better, or to have things make sense before I try to do the cognitive changes, I am NEVER going to do the cognitive stuff, and I'm also never going to get better. So even though it feels backasswards to do things starting at my brain and trying to extend to my feelings, it's the only thing I can think of to do that might actually help. The feelings themselves simply do not change on their own. So using my brain (which I can control) to try and help myself move past all the emotions that are keeping me stuck is actually the ONLY thing I can do to help myself in a practical way. I mean, I could do years of analytical or very deep therapies, but without trying to retrain my brain, all these automatic thoughts and associated feelings are just going to continue, and everything is going to keep feeling like shit. Or I can try to put new patterns of thought into my brain to replace the old ones that make me feel like shit, and someday, when the new patterns actually get grasped and absorbed by my brain, maybe I will feel better (as well as think better). That's the idea, anyway. And it's worked for other people (as I've read in Life Without Ed, among other books I've come across lately), so why can't it work for me?

I don't know how much sense any of this makes. It's all kind of a jumble in my head, to be honest. I'm still trying to piece it all together. All this cognitive and emotional and no-behaviors stuff is all waves crashing into each other, and separating it all sometimes is like pulling taffy. But I hope that with enough time, effort, and patience, I will be able to organize and process it all, and thereby actually start a true, and PERMANENT, road of recovery.

Day 3 at the house... it seems to get slightly harder every day. ED, of course, is constantly, or near constantly, chattering in my head about everything I "should" be doing that I'm not doing -- namely, binging, purging, and restricting. Of course, I am not currently listening to that voice; but it gets extremely tiresome and frustrating to hear it constantly yapping and yammering in my brain. I get about 3290583958 urges a day to do something ED. At this point I know that voice is probably not going to quiet itself for long in the next few days, or probably even the next few weeks. It's something I'm just going to have to ride out, and just yell back at to SHUT THE FUCK UP every time it gets particularly annoying. No matter where I had gone for treatment, it would have done exactly the same thing... if in fact I had been able to GET to any other treatment anytime soon, which is doubtful at best. So it's a really, really good thing I was able to go to M House now. It really is.

One thing I have found an invaluable resource is "Life Without Ed". I had previously refused to read it (at least within my own head) because it really seemed like the cliche recovery book to me, and for that reason alone I wouldn't touch it. I have this thing where if something is EXTREMELY popular, and everyone constantly talks about it and gushes over it, there's a really good chance I just won't go near it because all the hype annoys me so much. Anyway, I* happened to have it here, so I thought I would actually try reading it, especially since I've never really read any kind of ED book (recovery or not) with the honest, full intention of using it in a good way. And I'm glad I let her give it to me to borrow, because it's honestly AMAZING. I feel like so, so many chapters basically describe my exact headspace, or way of thinking. She was both anorexic and bulimic, and I suppose in a way I have been both myself, so it's GREAT. I would honestly recommend it for anybody with an ED, though, not just someone who has a "combo" like I have/had. I realized that for awhile I have already conceptualized ED the way she does, except that I don't put a gender or any sort of human face on ED. Instead, ED is kind of a shapeless, faceless shadow in my head that lurks around and tells me lots of ludicrous bullshit about myself. In many ways I can, now, distinguish the ED voice from my own mind, so when the ED voice starts blabbing and won't shut up, I yell at it to go away, as I said before. It my only listen for a short time now, but there will come a time when it will be silent for longer and longer periods. I know this first-hand, as I've experienced it multiple times. But I'm DETERMINED not to relapse this time. NO MORE FUCKING BEHAVIORS.

Anyway, I'm out of computer time now, so I must go. I'll try to update when I can, although I must confess I may not be able to read any threads. Right now, reading anything involving active self-destruction is simply too upsetting and triggering for me, and I can't do it. Part of my recovery, by necessity, is going to involve phasing things like my regularity on self-harm and eating disorder places out of my life. I can't get better from an addictive-type behavior, or a set of such behaviors, if I'm constantly reading about it and focusing on it and remembering the million and one reasons I used to do it in the first place. You know?

I'll update again when I can.

I am scared out of my mind about M House tomorrow. My anxiety is bad enough that it's making it hard to get anything done tonight in the way of packing, etc. I may try to do some later, or I may just wake up early tomorrow and do it. I'm probably more likely to be able to be calm tomorrow morning. On the other hand, I don't want to, say, wake up too late tomorrow and accidentally leave myself with too little time, or something like that. I don't have an alarm clock anymore since my cat knocked my phone into the fish tank a few days ago. (Oh, wait, I didn't mention that? Yeah... the replacement won't be here till at least tomorrow or Wednesday. Sucks. :|

All day today my brain has been alternating between and .

Weight today was 103.8... up a pound from yesterday. I seem to be gaining weight like crazy. I mean, when you consider that on about the 20th I was at 96.4 lbs, 103.8 IS quite a high weight to be at. But I am aware that at least 1-2 lbs of this weight is rehydration, and I may also be retaining some water. Still, though, the gain is really hard to deal with mentally.

However, I am going to be doing something that is probably/likely/hopefully going to help with this. You see, I have decided to go back to M House for at least another month or two. I've already talked to my old social worker / counselor there (I*) and written up the goals I want to work on, and she's talked to the other social workers and some of the staff, and they all thought it sounded like a good idea. Plus they actually have beds free now, which they don't always. So I'm set to come in next Tuesday afternoon.

I know that this announcement probably sounds like it's completely coming out of left field, but it actually makes a lot of sense. The funny thing was, it was my dietician's idea. I had been telling her that it wasn't that I didn't want to give up binging and purging, but that I just couldn't, and I explained to her why. Basically, the reason is that I can't deal with all the emotional fallout, plus the other urges that I know would probably come after ED was gone (like cutting, suicidal ideation, etc). So then she said, "Well, why not stop binging and purging and go to M House?" I sort of brushed off the suggestion at first, but then I was like... "Wait now. What if I actually DID stop b/ping, and then I checked into M House to deal with the fallout?"

It was seriously like she had thrown a load of bricks on top of my head, the idea hit me so hard. For months and months I've been thinking that I was never going to find anywhere that could treat both my ED and the underlying stuff, and help me deal with urges of all kinds, including self-harming type ones. And the truth is that M House doesn't "do" eating disorders, at least not per se. But they know me quite well, since I spent four months there two years ago, and I also know them, so I know that they actually can help me deal with all the underlying stuff, and probably pretty well.

As for the ED... well, I have made a commitment to myself that once I am there, I am throwing ED out the fucking window, and whatever happens happens. The idea of going back is that I stop all the behaviors, more or less (I recognize that I will probably have slips, but I don't intend to let them become relapses), and then use the 24/7 support system of M House to deal with whatever random and/or horrid bullshit comes up once I do so. One of my goals, the first one of three, is very specific: a) "Eat 3 square meals + 1-2 snacks a day [and adjust plan if dietician says I should]" and b) "NO binging and/or purging. Work with staff to cope with urges instead of using ED behaviors." I had to write it exactly like that, because a) could so easily be manipulated if I had said "3 meals" (I could make them smaller) or "1 snack, 2nd snack optional" (no 2nd snack on days I feel 'fat') or even "1 night snack" (because then if I have a snack at afternoon & want another one at night I will fight with myself about having it, etc). And with b) I had to write and/or instead of just and, because then I could decide "Oh, well, I can still purge just this once" or "Oh, if I binge this one time but don't purge it's not so bad". NO. I need to stop ED in its fucking tracks, and not let it warp me and twist me around this way. So the little things may not seem so important, but they really really are.

That being said, though, I've also agreed to go back to the IOP program for at least a few things, like a couple of meal supports a week, the dietician (well, I guess that one's a given), probably family therapy, that sort of thing. I may also ask to redo body image group, although it's psychoeducational and I don't generally like those sorts of groups... but body image is most definitely something I need to work on again, and so I probably should anyway, even if I've heard all the material before. I want to do the family therapy basically because my parents don't really know the full extent of the ED, and also because we just don't talk about any part of it, ever, even when the signs are ridiculously obvious (like the last couple of times I lost weight, etc). This whole shame and secrecy thing I've kept going is something I really need to work on, and I'm hoping this is going to be a start. Not to mention that I'd like to dispel some ideas my parents seem to have about my mental illness(es) in general, such as that they thought it would all just "go away", and I'd never end up in hospital again, and blah blah blah.

I do know that once I'm in M House, I am going to do anything and everything in my power to avoid not feeling, whether consciously or unconsciously. I suspect there's going to be a lot of anxious blanking out and dissociation happening, which I'm probably going to need to talk to I* about, since she may need to remind me of what we'd been talking about, or ease off if it gets too bad, etc. But I'm not going to let anything, be it behaviors or urges or just plain shit I can't control like dissociating, stop me from dealing with my crap. As I said to I* when I met with her on Wednesday, I am just sick of all this disordered shit, and I know that in order to get past it I have to go through it. I've been avoiding and numbing and binging and purging my feelings for so, so long, and it hasn't helped anything -- if anything it's gotten worse. If I am to actually live again, and not just exist as a chronically disordered person, I have to deal with all the things I've been avoiding thinking about and dealing with. I have to feel -- really, truly feel. And it is terrifying. But I HAVE to do this.

So that's basically the essence of it. I want to beat ALL these fucking disorders, and get my goddamned life back. I'm sick of wasting my time on disorders. I AM GOING TO GET OUT OF THIS SHITHOLE, SO FUCK YOU, ED. I won't be your slave anymore.

I finally had a BM after about two days of feeling bloated and gross because I didn't have one... it was super hard and rather painful, though. I'm just glad to know things are finally starting to move naturally through me. I hate Ex-Lax.

Today my weight was 99.2 lbs; up .2 from yesterday. I have managed about 1650-1700 calories the last two days, and seem well on my way to managing at least that much today. I am trying very very hard for balance in my meals -- carbs (I do whole wheat whenever possible), proteins, veggies and/or dairy, fats. I'm still not eating fruit, but maybe eventually I'll be able to work it in... right now I'm still afraid of it. It really doesn't make much sense, because I'll eat jam or yogurt with sugar in it, but not fruit? I guess fruit is my last hold-out, or something. Maybe in coming days or weeks I can work it back in, somehow, sometime. I don't really care that much, to be honest. Almost all of the micro- and macronutrients in fruit are easily obtained from all the other food groups, anyway. Or so I'm convincing myself.

I still b/p at least once a night, but I knew that was going to happen. I can't control myself from doing it these days. Last night as part of my binge I polished off the rest of a box of cream crackers with real blueberry jam... I mean, really, who binges on blueberry jam and crackers?? But it was ridiculously delicious, and I couldn't hold back. After that I ate a bunch of chocolate, purged, then binged again on Life toasted cinnamon cereal with milk and blueberry muffins with margarine. Purged again; got everything out the 2nd time, and felt a lot better stomach-wise. I was able to go to sleep after that, though, thankfully.

These are interesting times that we live in.