So I spoke with my doctor today. Even though I had explained the insurance thing in regards to hospitalization I still give her props for trying.
She asked me how long it would take to get approved for the Medicaid and I said I wasn’t sure.
So just more waiting,
She obviously had talked to my therapist because she kept bringing up the control thing and that I needed to make these choices before someone else takes that away from me, and I get. I get what she is saying. But it’s not a just sit down and make it happen kind of thing. She wants me to drink 8 glasses of water a day. I think if I get a couple boosts in that I am doing, 8 glasses = 4lbs = anxiety = insanity,
Besides the whole ANA thing when we started working on some trauma issues. Then food became an issue not just because I didn’t want the calories or because I was in search of some perfect number. It became a problem cause I ran smack in to a wall I am not sure I am strong enough to handle and it represents so much to me and my life it took over the desire to resist eating for control and became a sensation I couldn’t handle.
It might seem graphic sorry if it does. I just think the more I get out of me the less I carry around.
Being forced to have oral sex and swallowing things I should never have even known about at age 7 has become a huge battle. All of the sudden things with textures and certain feelings make me throw up. And I don’t throw up. If I get the flu it’s the other end. There are probably less times in my life I have thrown up then fingers on my hand. But now it seems almost insurmountable to eat anything period without the need to throw up.
It’s why I let them put the tube back in the second time because I couldn’t get passed this. And not much has changed. Thus the increase in fainting, increase in deficiencies etc etc.
I am just want to go to sleep and make it go away. To wake up and forget the truth. Is that too much to ask? To just remember those happy moments no matter how few and far in between they are. I have two pictures left from when I was a kid. And when I look at them I don’t even recognize the girl in the pic. She seems foreign to me.
And I realize more then anything I want to throw it up. Not just food but life in general. I want to throw up the memories and the pain, the panic attacks and flashbacks and horror I know.
I knew when I got up this morning I would hate this day. Two weeks out of treatment and I have used up all my nutrition that helped give hope. Therapy was rough.
We really didn’t have much to talk about. I told her I felt miserable. She said you need to be in the hospital don’t you. I start crying and say yes. Yes because it’s true. Yes because it sucks I can’t get my act together. She said she probably couldn’t get funding again for me. I say I know. They are going through budget cuts and losing 10% of their staff. So I said I am on my way to turn in paperwork for insurance hoping I get approved and then this will help pay for another stay. I have honestly stopped counting. My life just sucks and my hospitalizations are almost the same as my age. 37 years and I still can’t get this figured out. Can’t get my shit together.
I turn in Paperwork which is good. I head to Dr apt I am 30 minutes early. So I sit and listen to my headphones while playing Yahtzee. The nurse comes to get me and I just don’t think. I stand up and start heading towards her and then next thing I am eating carpet. I didn’t pass out completely.:.. I lost a quick second but it wasn’t w total black out. My blood pressure is a little low but heart rate is 134.
Pa training under my doc comes in and starts asking me a load of questions and I finally look at her and tell her I would just as soon as talk to my doc. In comes my doc obviously worried and wanting to send me to the ER because I am dehydrated. Standing BP is 70/60. She tries reasoning with me but you see I can’t choose myself over work when there isn’t a replacement. She says she is going to call the hospital I just got out of. EMS come and I refused ER I sign off and leave. Dr Mara says please call me so I know you are home safe.
I do so and she said they have a female bed open. I try to explain the whole insurance bit but she thinks there has to be a way. While talking on the phone she asks who my therapist is and then at the moment my therapist calls to talk to her. And so I am tired, my ankle is killing me from falling and I am waiting.
Nothing really too exciting to bring about how I feel right now which is what drives me crazy. It always make much more sense when I know what is wrong. Some of this trauma work with my therapist brings up emotions and things I never remembered or even emotions I can’t match to something because my brain is either protecting me from the event or I am just strong enough to see it,
All day I have been fighting something but I don’t know what it is or where it is coming from. I scare myself when I feel like this because I am just so impulsive and I will often do anything not to feel. Even in the silence there really isn’t quiet. Just a loud screaming voice of all my failures. It just seems like right now work or not I cannot find peace from the devastation.
And I want it to be quiet. Cause a non stop battle makes things really hard. You spend your days praying the night hurries up and comes and then you spend the nights praying the meds kick in before you feel so cornered you will do anything to silence the day…. The week…. Life period.
I left treatment too soon I think.
I am not strong enough to be what people need me to be. I am not the person they remember just a shell of someone who looks like it.
My own struggles getting in the way of trying to make good decisions. Truth is I am far from healthy enough to make good decisions because it’s all shades a dark color and I can’t find my way through It.
I look so old and empty. But it’s exactly how I feel.
Something I wrote inpatient because the nurses were very rude at times… Asking why I bothered to come to treatment at all. I did sign my 72 hour paper which meant I wanted to leave but the clinic went after a court order to keep me but somehow that fell through and they sent me home before the court hearing. Something I wish I could take back. I have this nagging feeling I will have to go back inpatient to get a grip on this battle. Things are starting to slip again.
“It’s not a game, it’s not a ploy for control. It’s my life.
Being here has taken away so many of my choices
So don’t get pissed at me when I struggle
Threatening doesn’t help me
People’s disdain, anger and frustration are not helpful either.
You may not understand
But there is a war going on 24/7 in my head
You may get that my life is at stake
But while you are fighting for it
Don’t forget I am still here too
You may get mad and be fighting my disorder
But I am still here too.
That anger and frustration you aim at my disorder
Bleeds over on to me.
It makes me feel disliked, judged, and broken
It makes me want to isolate and feel even more alone
You may do this because you care
But that message is not something that is conveyed or heard
Most days I see nothing worth saving
But every once in a while I have a grain of sand moment of hope.
That’s how I got myself stuck here in the first place
The more judged I feel, the more anger and frustration
The less likely I will even care to look for more grains of sand.
Instead I will give in to the monster
Because I am so very very tired at this moment
You may be fighting for my life (thank you!!!)
But don’t forget I am here too.
I am trying to find the strength to fight too.
I already have demons to fight
I don’t need anything else to fight too.”
I had written this because I had gotten up and started to pass out on the way to art and the nurse responded by saying “you think this is a game??? How long do you think your body can go without food and water? Why are you even here?”
It out raged me and I had a screaming moment where I said you think I enjoy living such a hell? You believe this is some game I am playing? You think I wake up everyday wondering how miserable I can make my life? Any one who thinks this is a game has got to be ignorant and stupid.
I didn’t mean to be so harsh I was just tired of nurses and staff getting angry at me when I struggled and didn’t make the decision they wanted.
I am currently sitting in the ER and it isn’t even noon. I have almost passed out three times this morning. My heart rate right now is 129. That’s sitting in a chair relaxing. I can’t understand these spells. Even when I was being tube fed and getting the nutrition I was still struggling with these.
Besides waking up on the floor I hate the fact that I can’t control them. Yes such a shock I don’t do well with loss of control.
I ended up being really dehydrated which may sound crazy that I didn’t
Think that but with all the tube feeding I just didn’t think it was possible. But I went from 119/78 while laying down to a 70/39 standing. The doc was an jerk. I have met her in the psych unit and it’s almost like she acts like you are wasting her time. If I had never said I struggle with depression or suicide then I would have been in a different part of the ER. I wish she would just understand this is not easy for me to ask for help especially from someone who treats me like less then human.
It’s been just three days since that happen and I am feeling I am working to make progress but my BP is dropping again.
I am still so tired so easily. Since they placed me on bed rest after about 20 fainting episodes and a trip to the ER for staples…. Now I feel like it’s so much more of a Challange because I am weaker.
I should have never left. I should have fought to stay. I think it was easy for the doc just send me off since he was going away again. I should have asked to stay longer and just kept the NG tube in. At least I would be getting nutrition on a regular basis. I just can’t seem to do that on my own.
It’s my first full day of being home from treatment and I still feel so confused and huge ball of emotions. I didn’t plan on being out on errands all day. I suppose it’s better then just laying around with all my ghosts and demons.
Came in to town to get some things and came across my gram and her two sisters. I don’t know maybe I don’t get the right to claim her as mine anymore. It was good to get a hug from her. And then all these feelings of guilt came rushing in. Like how sad it is and how I couldn’t be a good granddaughter. It made the ache in my heart to cry.
Went and saw my doc. I haven’t seen her in about two months. She walked in and gasped. I was glad to see her it’s been too long. She is always so compassionate and I know she is very sincere. We talked a bit, she gave me the drink boost speech. Said I need to be safe. And that she wants me to be well. She is already bringing up the send me back downstate idea. So now instead of seeing her once a month she wants me in every two weeks.
Tried working on my insurance stuff found out because the number on my paperwork was transposed I was denied it, so I have to start all over now. I think really couldn’t I have gotten a call. Your my Case Manager can’t you just have been gracious and helped me and not just look at me like I am just a number? Oh well I guess.
I have had several episodes today of almost fainting. Since last night went relatively smooth I thought they really were just a nutrition issue but today disproves that. Twice today I just kept saying just a couple more steps just a couple more steps, GOD help me make it a couple more steps.
I miss home.
Running one more errand and then I am done for the night. I find it takes much more energy then it used to in order to do ordinary things. But when your killing your self, when your letting your body be eaten alive what more can you expect?
Because I am afraid I should be all better and I am not.
So I feel much like a failure. I had such high hopes for my hospital stay this time.
Now all I can do is sit here in a pile of tears thinking that was my do or die. My final push to tear myself from this monster and yet I didn’t even begin to start to peak back a layer. I just got to say this is what my monster looks like.
And I want to go to sleep tonight and the sun not rise. No light to acknowledge that I have somehow failed again and that I must try to figure out how to survive the light.
Hidden in plain site trying to decide if I should even come up for air or just sink to the bottom and just say I tried.
Hidden from those who love me and whom I need yet in brokenness I cannot ask for help. My Case Manager asked today if he could contact my family. I said no and when he asked why not I said I still too broken I cannot hurt them more. He said so I will be see you again then. Unless I packed my bags and went back tonight I won’t be here long enough for round two.
Eating disorders can be such dangerous twists of the mind we so often fall no know which way is up or which way is down. I don’t see my therapist until Thursday. I made an appointment with my PCP tomorrow which should be interesting since I haven’t seen her in three months. I just get to go tell her how I failed again.
Why can’t I just get something right somewhere, somehow????