4 months in...

december will be the start of my fifth month in treatment. Its seems an absolute age ago when i first went on to the inpatient ward in August. I started on the day unit fully in september, after a bit of a transition between the ward and home.

Things are shifting, but not in the way i thought they would. I talk more now, which i guess is why i use this blog less. It makes me feel really odd seeing all my old posts about self harm, and hospitals. I thought it was just about not vomitting, and eating for a long time, but its nothing to do with that, not really. so now i eat, and i throw up a lot less, and i havnt cut for a long time-well a long time for me, since september. thats amazing, when you think about it. I talk to the nurses, and my therapist (who i thank my lucky stars they didnt change when i went from outpatient care to IP), for the most part i eat my meal plan, and i sleep better.

so why am i not really happy?

whats still missing?

oh do fuck OFF eating disorder!!!!

what the title said so eloquently.

give me a break would ya!

back to school baby!

So, Ive been on the day unit for about 3 months now. Doesnt seem like long at all...and already im worried about how quickly discharge dates will creep up on me. They used to say that the average length of treatment is 6 months....so id be halfway through. But it many ways i dont feel like ive got anywhere yet. Ive only just finished my assessment phase a couple of weeks ago, which means im only now starting to really talk about the super hard stuff in therapy. Sometimes they casually mention that they rekon il be there for about a year-which is frustrating, disappointing, and so so safety giving and wanted all in one. weird. But ive got very acustomed to my blue chair in the lounge.

Im going back to uni tomorrow. oh MG!its supposed to be to help me work through the difficulties it brings up for me while im on the unit-and give me the chance to do the exams i missed. so im going to be going in on tues mornings to join the new first years for practicals, seeing as i missed most of them last year.

really really not feeling it. I was so desperate to get back to it, and now its come to it, i just dont want to know.

all i want to do is sleep.

self induced technical difficulties

I think i have finally realised the reason why I'm not blogging much at the moment-

I'm just NOT that interesting.

So i wont continue to bore you with the details of my so called life. Because I have come to realise, that i dont actually HAVE one to write about.

meh.

im so tired and worn out. thursdays are HARD-pscotherapy day. i end up feeling so drained. already dreading the weekend, dont know what to do with all the empty time, cant afford to do anything fun, and feel really isolated and alone-i just dont fit with my friends from uni, and all my friends from cornwall are so far away, in both senses. Its all changed and i feel left behind all over again.

"chose a word to describe yourself...."

FAT

i cant stand how bloody fat i am.

im such a freakin ugly mess

excuse the language-but F**k this aka reasons why i can no longer be arsed

so, here i am, minding my own business, trying to die quietly (i have tonsillitis, and ear/chest infections on top of that-funtimes), and alright-fairplay, i know i tend to get 'manflu' cos im rubbish at dealing with being ill, but im really poorly and SOME KNOB has just been relentlessly thumping on my door. since 9pm. its now 11pm so im more than slightly pissed off. ive had to call the police, cos they kicked it so f***ing hard the lock is now a bit dodgy. so now instead of being in bed, im waiting for a freaking lockmith, for the second time since ive been in this hell hole place. I do so love my local council for housing me here. It makes so much sense to put a vulnerable female who is living on her own-who they have housed for being vulnerable-in the MIDDLE OF A FUCKING DRUG DEN.THANKYOU SOO MUCH COUNCIL FOR HOUSING ME IN A FLAT SOMEONE GOT STABBED IN, WHERE THE LAST TENNANT WAS A FREAKING DEALER, SO NOW EVERYONE COMES TO MY DOOR LOOKING FOR FIXES, AND KCIKS IT IN WHEN I CANT GIVE THEM ANYTHING. THANKYOU, THATS GREAT.OH AND 2 PEOPLE GOT SHOT OUTSIDE MY BLOCK LAST MONTH, JUST TO ADD TO THE GENERAL FABULOUSNESS THAT IS THIS ESTATE.

and people wonder why i just cant be bothered anymore.

tonsillitis and other things

fdghdfghkhfkfhgkdh

I hate tonsillitis. I get full blown, actual tonsillitis twice a year, once in the summer, and once around about now, and have done for years. and yet the stupid NHS still insists that its too risky to take the bloody things out of my throat.

im really struggling with everything at the moment. I feel like im not really ill, more like just utterly stupid, and therefore should not have been taken up IP space on the ward, and now shouldnt be in day care. i mean, all i have to do is not puke. why cant i just DO THAT? i feel like im not ill compared to the others in day care-they have all, or are needing to put on weight from anorexia. and them being small, and me being, well, anything but, is really making me feel crap. Like i did this all wrong-well i know its ALL wrong, but i couldnt even do what my mum wanted-me to lose weight. im talking in confused circles right now, but i could really do with some blog love please?

xxxxx

all a bit much

ok, yeh, i know i say that a lot, but im finding things really hard at the moment. Having left the inpatient ward, i now attend day hospital, from 8-4pm weekdays. which means i get to spend a lot of time with myself at weekends. Edit. I get to spend a lot of time trying to resist the urge to puke until i pass out, and break various parts of myself. nice, huh. Sometimes, i think its kind of sad that it comes to that. And then i remember how bloody rubbish i am.

im wittering, and cant quite figure out the point im trying to make. so,yeh, i know its hard, and everyones says its hard-but where the heck did my life go. Because i feel like right now, i had more of a life when i was using Ed behaviours. And now my entire life is taken up with trying to stop myself from doing things.sometimes i can hardly find the energy to bloody breath. so i guess i must be getting something in this recovery shizz right, if its meant to be hard!

I havnt cut or anything else SI wise for 4 weeks now. I slipped up and made myself sick on thurs night, but before that it had been 2 weeks. Which is pretty impressive by my previous standards. days when ive been sick hitting on 60 times. no joke.

so, heyho.

I got some new goldfish today, cos i miss John Paul and Ray Quinn, who i had to leave in cornwall, SOOO much. I cant think of names for these 2 yet, but will put a piccy of them up soon.

xxx

back in the land of the living

after a rather abrupt break from blogging (and well, life really), im back. and sort of the right way up.

I've been on an Inpatient Eating Disorder unit for the last 5-6 weeks or so. I've been attending day patient care for the last couple of weeks, and going back to the ward at nights, and tonight is my first night in my new flat. Its a trial night away fromt he ward to see how things go-but if it goes to plan, then i should be back home on sunday, and attending the Ed day unit for the next 6-8 months.

i think i feel a little bit better

xxxx

well this is a new special kind of hell....i have never been so dehydrated in my life. and its 32 degrees and boiling hot. and i still only get 6 teeny glasses of ater a day.this is coming from someone who drinks at least 6 litres a day. dont give me the lecture about drinking too much-i know it with cherries on top. however, it is a physical problem-im over sensitive to all the signals of thirst, due to a bit of a body glitch. and this is killing me.

other than that, despite the fact im a voluntary patient, ive been told ai cannot leave the ward. its 32 degrees and the heating is on in my room, cos they cant turn it off. this is HELL

and well, yknow, then there sthe eating part.

joy joy joy

ever been impatient?need advice on what i can/cant take in...please help!

So, im going on to the ED ward on monday, and im trying to pack some stuff up. I need to pack everything i need for the whole time in there-5-6 weeks, because there isnt anyone else who would be able to get into my room at halls to get anything i might need. And inbetween all this, i have to sort out getting my stuff magically moved to my new flat.

So clothes and so forth. well i was thinking this was an excellent opportunity to spend a lot of time wearing pj type things, just nice comfy stuff. BUT from the time when i was stuck on that ward for hours, sitting in the medical room waiting for the assessment that ended in a setion (yeh, that night!) i gathered a couple of things. these girls dress to impress. no, really. but, like who? i mean, i understand not walking around looking like shit so you feel even more crap, but these are chicks with standards. I dont think a hello moomin tshirt and cutoffs is gonna cut it. The other thing is, like the elephant in the room.hahahaha. good joke. cos im obviously going to be the heavist there-i am-and i know thats cos my ed isnt based around restriction in the same way as anorexia. but its gonna hurt. Even when i was just waiting there, loads of people were looking at me like i was a total freakshow.

anyway my point is-what do i take in?
any 'no-go' type stuff thats gonna be taken off me, apart from the obvious like razor to shave etc. do i have to be hairy for the next 6 weeks?

i was gonna take some books, magazines, schoolwork to do. and i want to take my knitting, and a current sewing project, cos good distraction stuff. but i have a feeling that they wont like that, cos of needles being sharp and all, and sewing scissors etc...?

hair straighteners? any point trying to negotiate that one?like they just give them to me when i need them?

radio?(i get my own room)

i want to take some photos woth me, but take them out of the frame(cos of the glass?)

gaaaaaaaaah

its hard!

am i even gonna have any free time when im not eating/waiting after ive eaten etc etc?

turns out all i needed to do was ask (again)

On monday im going into an inpatient ED unit for the 6 weeks between now and starting at the day unit mid september.

According to NHS and NICE guidlines, you have to really A)properly crazy, or B) totally suicidal for them to consider inpatient treatment for Bulimia, so i guess erm, thats me!

this is something i asked about months ago, but was told it wasnt suitable, as my depression was outweighing my ED. Which is crap anyway, cos the worse the ED gets, the more depressed you get. My care coordinator has been trying to convince me to stay on a general mental health ward for the last month or so, after that fun time i got sectioned and made to do so. I wouldnt agree, because having been inpatient in that setting before-it just makes things worse. Ad they dont have real knowledge or understanding of ED's, you get away with everything-which is exactly what i do, because ed behaviour is the only thing making a scary situation like that seem safe. And, like, i dont have psychosis, so why stick me on a ward with staff who have only been trained in psychotic disorders?makes no sense.

Anyhow, my care cordinator sat me down, and told me i had to start talking fast about what i thought might help me, cos they were seriously thinking about a mental health assessment-which was gonna end with a really long section-to make me stay in, cos they all thought i was planning to do myself in. So i got really brave, and told her the only thing i would agree to was something that would actually help me-rather than just make me feel worse afterward-and said if they wanted me inpatient-fine, but it would have to be on the ED ward. because if i could eat, i might start feeling a little more saner. Actually she agreed this didnt sound unreasonable, and said she would talk to the ed team, but that things prob wouldnt happen in a hurry.

so i nearly died of shock when my lovely psycotherapist called today to ask me to come in for my appointment half an hour earlier, so we could meet with the ward consultant. and only 2 days later!!!shockingly fast!they must be worried lol.i think my care coordinator just wants me in somewhere, so i guess they thought it for the best or something. They said they had talked with the ward, and i could go in, could have gone tomorow, but we decided it would be better to wait til mon-less rushed, and more time to sort things out. so we had a bit of a chat about how all the other patients are recovering from anorexia, and would that make me feel weird, and a bit about how i would totally hate it (no kidding) but i would have to try and stick it out. im going in voluntarily, but they said if i tried to leave, and they doubted i could keep myself safe, they would consider making me stay. funtimes lol. so in essence, there goes my summer!

but at least someone finally got a clue and did something helpful!

sleepy days=brain shutdown

I think my head has finally decided it has had enough, and has thus decided to shut itself off from life. This means i get to sleep, lots.and then some more.

I'm so exhausted, bone tired through and through. Thinking makes it worse, so i just end up asleep again.

maybe its a self preservation thing-i cant hurt myself anymore if im asleep, so maybe its me trying to save myself, some stupid instinct thing. If it is, its very annoying, and id like it to leave me alone, to finish what i started.

anyway, my head says its time to go back to sleep now.

more maths problems...

so, my doctor has finally been brilliant/stupid enough to give me some useful drugs. this makes me happy, as they were exactly what i needed. i feel so much better now knowing that i actually have the means to overdose properly.

i have just spent the evening calculating drug doses. who knew all the crap they teach you at school would actually be useful someday.

i think i get a little bit more fucked up everyday. does anyone else feel like that? its not that im intending to TAKE them...its just it makes me feel a calmer knowing i have them.

i cannot remember the last time i felt normal. this is BAD.

Eating disorder maths...

 ED + not eating=eventual death

ED+ Eating=mental death

solve that...

blog-ness

i think i might jump ship from this blog. i'm kind of ashamed to be associated with it-all the thoughts, things and feelings written down like that. says a lot about me-and none of it good.

its making me feel icky. what to do?

my advice...

get a guinea pig.

they are cute, 'talk' to you non stop in various squeeks, are something to hold when all you can think of is cutting, someone to tell whats wrong who doesnt care if you are mad, as long as you keep stroking them, a reason to get out of bed at least once a day to change bedding, feed and water, and makes me feel better when i realise i have, like no friends.

Love my little charlie. he is sitting next to my laptop on my desk, which is one of his favourite places. sometimes he tries to help me type, and anyone that reads my blog regularly knows that i can neither spell nor type, so this is no bad thing, him doing a better job than me!

reasons why crying and being a girl work....

hahahaha

seems i finally drove the council mad yesterday by being a constant fixture in the housing centre and crying LOTS-cos they offered me a flat this morning!!!

its in a bit of a scary area, but the nicer part of it, if that makes sense. its totally unfurnished-no cooker, fridge, furniture, nothing, which is now a huge problem, but at least it will be mine. and once in a council property, well, it means im in the system, can apply for transfers etc.

proper update later

reasons why cmht's are completely fucking useless

and no, im not apologising for swearing.

they knew in FEBRUARY that i needed help with housing. by the 1st JULY. its now the 13th JULY and they are still doing JACK SHIT to help me. And this is def their problem-since they recomended that i cannot continue with my degree course until i hve had ED treatment, they lost me my student accomodation. and accepted that it was then their problem and priority to house me. so why the fuck are they not doing anything about this! they even have access to housing, they just cnt seem to realise they just cant seem to realise that when you say 'i have to have left by the first', you actually mean the 1st and not when they get round to it in the next 10 years or so.

i really wish i had the balls to kill myself.

ooops

i think, on reflection, that i need to stop talking to H, my therapist, and everyone else. getting threatened with sections is getting a little tiresome.

shit day

so, turns out i cant even get a place in a fucking hostel. hello cardboard box.

i also think my stomach might be disintegrating, having spent most if the day curled up in pain, in between crying about how shit everything else is.

i just want a flat/bedsit/studio/anything. i want my own space, but im not fussy-i dont care if its manky, i just need somewhere i can make feel like my own safe space. i really dont see how thats to much to ask.

not well

i feel really ill right now. I guess its just a pile up of lovely ED side effects-but my throat is soo sore i could cry (scrap that, im crying anyway), i think ive got a new tear in my stomach lining (yum) cos its very sore and theres been quite a lot of blood when ive purged-i hate that word, but i cant think of an alternative that equally doesnt make me cringe. I'm really allergic to summer too-i get horrible hayfever, my eyes are a swollen mess from it, and add to the fact that ive been crying pretty much continuously for days doesnt help. my whole head feels blocked up with gunk (pleasant image, hey) and my ears hurt. i dont know why my ears had to start hurting on top of everything else, but great, thanks dumbass body for that. i think it might be cos my wisdom teeth are nearly through, maybe its a weird pressure type thing.but anyway, they really hurt, im so irritatable and fed up right now.

i swear i just feel so beyond pissed off with everything right now.i just fail to see why i keep pulling myself out of these funks when they just keep getting worse each time. ive had it. and im totally sick of people telling me that it will get better, and that theres nothing bad enough to warrant wanting to die. Cos you dont really KNOW. you cant judge how much stress another person can tolerate, and i think ive had over and above the share i think its reasonable to deal with. ad now it has got to the unbearable point, and i dont want to bear it any longer.

yes i do think not having someplace that i feel safe to live is enough to cause me to fall over the edge. its something i need, having lacked it for years and years, and i cant go through all that again. so it is reason enough to make me feel that way-i would rather be dead than homeless, or be in a skanky hostel full of smackheads. i fucking hate druggies. yeh, ok, il make exceptions for people that have had shitty times, but fuck all sympathy for people who have flashbacks as results of drug use-i deal with that daily, pretty much-or more acuratly, nightly. and its horrific-and why would you do that to yourself?! so judge me all you want on that, but thats how i feel.

hmn, well this is an interesting new habit!

mondays, are clearly the new funday.

once again found myself waiting about after my psychotherapy session to be assessed by a doc and a psyc. well this is a new nasty monday habit which must be nipped in the bud.

no mans land

im tired-actaully more like exhausted-in both kinds of ways, scared and feel really on my own. i dont know what to do, cos really, i dotn know how i want this to be any more. ive just had enough.

72 hour section, and other fun things

The trouble with finally having a therapist that i trust and feel comfortable talking with, is that I get myself in trouble by saying things that maybe i shouldnt. or should. the jurys out on that one, i guess, but being honest about how bad i feel has got me in a whole heap of not-goodness.

So, on monday I went for my normal session with her, and was just feeling awful, stressed and just a mess basically. I have to leave uni halls on friday, but after i paid all my halls rent, i have like zero money left, and cant afford a deposit or rent in advance for a new place. and because im taking next year out, im not going to get any more student funding at the moment, which, so not good.  and my care coordinator still hasnt sorted out anywhere for me to stay, and its just a massive mess. so i was just in a total state, and pretty  suicidal to be honest. cos its just the same shit all the time, and one thing after another. and we all know how i deal with that. And i meant it, and im not really sure how much i still do. I still feel very wobbly, and like i dont know what to do for the best, and a lot of the time, i do think i would be better off dead. and i think the longer i have been ill, the worse it gets. each tim i hit a rough patch, and feel lower, the harder it is to get back where i was. and im so tired of it, and worrying about everything, it just gets way too much. Anyhow i think i worried the crap out of her, cos she asked if i would stay and be assessed by a doc-which i agreed to. but by this time it was 5, so we had to wait for the duty doc. after a never end stream of phone calls, my poor therapist, who was stuck waiting with me, finally managed to get a doc over at 9.30pm. considering my appointment was at 4pm, this wasnt much fun. mostly cos by this time i was feeling bloody awful for ruining her eveing and her having to wait-cos shes so nice, and the nicer she was about it, the worse i felt.

so the doc finally assessed me after talking with my therapist, at 10.30pm. i was waiting on the ED inpatient ward, which is in the same building as the day unit and where i go for outpatient appts with her.  it was pretty weird being there-we first got there when at the ward dinner time, which was pretty hectic. I  gradually felt a bit better, waiting all that time, it kind of all seeped out of me a bit. we talked lots in a casual, jokey kind of way, and i guess i managed to admit a lot of stuff that i wouldnt have normally been able to. anyway, the doc told er that i wasnt sectionable (remember this bit of info for later) and that he thought i should stay, but couldnt make me, and was just going to talk to home treatment, to discuss options. So she tells me this, and i feel better-cos it was the hottest day of the year so far (like really), and i was really anxious to at least pop back home to check charlie, my guinea pig, had enough water, and feed him, and grab a change of clothes and wash stuff if i was gonna stay in. admissions make me totally ocd about washing-just feel horrible sleeping in beds others have been in, showers etc, and wards are never the cleanest of places, and it makes me feel so nasty. and i only live 10 mins away from the hosp, so she, and a social worker she talked with rekoned it was totally reasonable.

at midnight the doc finally came back, asked if i would stay, i said no, cos of sorting charlie out, but would be willing to come back if they let me pop home-after all id been left with the idea that i was free to go if i wished, not being sectionable and all. so he goes off again. and comes back with 2 other senior nurses and puts a bloody 72 hour holding section on me, and had security drag me to a high security ward. WTF!!!!!i said id agree to stay the night!! by the time i got to the ward it was 1.30am, and almost 3 before they finally let me go to bed. on constant observation, so even had to pee and shower with the door open, and couldnt pull up bed covers higher than my hips, and leave lights on so they could see me. wtf is that about!!but they give me a wash kit with a disposable razor (again!!this has happened to me before, and baffles me, since they confiscate the most bizarre things off you, but give you blades. um ok.) i was sooo upset about charlie and really worried-he hadnt been so well in the heat, and was really scared he would have finished his water bottle, and didnt even know why id been sectioned-which is now gonna coause me issues with uni, cos im a healthcare student, so really hacked off. but be proud cos i kept my cool until 8.30 the next morning when i exploded with anger cos i doc couldnt reassess me until the next day-cos id been dragged off to a ward that wasnt covered by my team, i had to wait for a transfer to be assessed by someone who knew me. anyway i think they saw my point-that i was extremly pissed that id been told i could go home, then got sectioned, and had been in a boiling hot waiting room from 5pm til 2am without being offered anything to eat (oh the irony-and i was on an ED ward at that point!!), hadnt had my rights read to me, per policy, and was being forced to neglect the welfare of my pet. Anyhow, saying the words 'give me your complaint procedure and the name of your trust exec NOW' seemed to do the trick, and i was transfered to a much nicer, not insanely scary ward, and re assessed, and taken off constant obs. the section got revoked-but will still show on my record, so i am appealing it, because if school, and because it was so unfair,the doc that did it spoke to me for a total of 5 mins!!. They wanted me to stay informally on the ward, but not keen-i just wanted to check charlie, and have a shower, and eventually they ageed to keep me on the patient list, but grant me leave from the ward-so i can go back to the ward if i need, or stay at halls. I wanted to not be there also cos i need to be around to sort the housing issue out-to go to the council, fill in forms etc. so i had to agree to home treatment visits-which actually helped a bit today, though im considering going back to the ward. its weird cos i hate being there-but its a security thing. an like a mini break from dealing with myself and my weirdness-its taken away from me, someone else helps decide things-but theres a fine line, cos i suddenly end up hating that, people being in charge of what i do, and it makes me soo angry and uneasy and insecure. but in a weird way i feel comforted. i know hospital worls best for me very short term-im talking like 2 nights absolute max, but i also dont like feeling like i need other people. i guess its the little things. i felt really touvhed on monday night, when i eventually started to drift off at about 5.30 am and a nurse who must have trusted me a little, came and pulled the sheet up over my arms cos i most have looked cold. or maybe she was just the mother type, co she stroked my head a few times and when i cried just cuddled me and said 'oh baby girl its ok' over and over.

I do now feel awful about going back to see H, my therapist. shes lovely, and thats the problem. I caused a total nightmare for her, and she was so genuinely nice the whole time, and stayed far longer than she needed too-she stayed when the doc first spoke with me, cos she knows im liable to be super anxious and not say anything with people i dont know, and checked wth me so many times that i was ok with her going. I was upset when she went off to talk with doc cos i thought i couldnt go see charlie (turns out i couldnt) but she sat with me and tried to help me calm down, and told me that hed said i could go, that they couldnt keep me. and its not her fault it all took so long and turned out how i did-i totally dont think that at all. i feel bad for wasting her time, and like i just caused a load of trouble, when im not worth that amount of trouble.loads of times i tried to backtrack and say i was fine to go home, but she wouldnt have any of it-i kept apologising to her the whole time, so she knew i felt awful about it. while we were waiting i told her a list of all the things that were worrying me-no money/food, that i needed to get back for charlie, that i thought she hated me now, about being scared about the day unit-mostly cos i wouldnt be seeing her anymore, and didnt want to start with a new person., and all kinds of things. all just kinda spilt out. and she just wrote a list of it all, told me to calm down and now she knew, she could help.said she would talk with my cpn, and sort some emergency cash out, and would try her hardest to get the cmht to realise the proper urgency of the housing situation-cos they dont seem to get the fact that i dont have a home to go back to for the summer. and she tried to sort it so i could pop home quickly. so really-it was a horrid situaltion but im glad it was with H, cos i feel comfortable with her. and it was ok that she was seeing me falling apart. and its hard to admit, but i liked that she cared enough to get me assessed, convinced me to stay and wait it out, and was just NICE. its always nice to think someone cares, and like-ok, i know she was covering her arse cos she didnt want to get sued if i went home and topped myself, but she did a lot more than she could have done. I was soo tired waitng for the doc to come, ans she knew i just wanted to go, and i kinda like the fact she didnt believe my 'im ok' bullshit.  but im so ashamed that it came to that.

She called me when i got home on tues, after my leave had been agreed and said she was worried i wouldnt come back to sessions cos i blamed her for being sectioned-which i totally dont. Im worried about going back cos i was a major pain in the ass! so we talked it out, and now i feel like i can go back and see her, which is good, cos i get a lot from the sessions. This is just a massive nightmare thing. I have to go back to the ward on monday, for ward round, but im thinking i might go back for the weekend. i find it hard knowing what to do, because a lot of me wants to stay home so i can hurt myself.  but there must be a bit of me that wants that kind of security. dunno.

so, being sectioned is totally a good way to spend your monday night! (uh, you get the sarcasm, right??)

please have a look out my other blog :)

Hey guys

while i was still in cornwall i started this blog-about fashion/vintage stuff/customising clothes/making jewellery etc, and the general nicer fluff life is made of! pretty please have a look, and follow (its feeling lonely..!!!)

This blog has always been my place to rant, vent and talk about ED/SI related issues, and i want to get back to writing about clothes and bows again!

so clicky here to have a look at 'pretty bows and borrowing grannies clothes'

or if your horse-minded, try this one -  Vicki and Luran

thanks guys, i need some blog love!!!

the age old problem

i actually cannot stop bloody eating. im constantly thinking about the next thing. i think it must be a stress reaction or something, cos while i always purge after i eat-i rarely normally binge, i normally just end up throwing up 'normal' meals, if that makes sense. and its not denial-i really dont binge that much anymore-i used to, and now its more like i just try and purge anything i eat. so i get stuck trying to eat the same meal, cos i feel bad for being sick, and thus the cycle is set up. so i guess its kind of a binge behaviour, but its not about large quantities, normally. but the last 3 days or so-bloody hell. all i do is eat anything i can find, then ourge, then while im doing that im thinking what i can eat next. its mental. i think its slowing off  a bit now-im really trying to fight it, but its so draining. and i dont know where its come from. I am super wound up at the moment about my housing problems, but that normally comes out as restriction, or worse self harm. im not saying that its a good thing, that i react in those ways-just thats what my 'programmed' reactions to stress tend to be, until i recognise it and fight it. but its so exhausting, and makes me feel so stupid. why cant i just be normal. yeh yeh i know noone is normal, but you know where im coming from.

im looking forward to monday, cos i see my psychologist on mondays, and the sessions really help me. they dont take away the rubbish, but i tend to feel a little bit saner for letting some of it out, and having a good ol rant, and it all seems to have more context, which helps. like things tend to end up with the right proportion of feelings after seeing her.rather than me being mad for something thats really nothing, i kind of tend to realise what its really about, and things get a bit more evenly distributed. although i have huge issues believing her when she tries to tell me its not all my fault for stuff thats happened. i dont like thinking it could be any other way-it just doesnt sit comfortably. im the crap one, im the one that mad shit decisions and screwed everything up.so its my fault, liverpool, my mum, everything.

scared and freaking out

Ok, so last night was actually the best day of my life ever (apart from the day i got my first pony sam. but that is the ONLY exception, and only because sam was an absolute lege) because i went to see kings of leon at hyde park, and we all know exactly how much i love KOL, more specifically, mr caleb followill.

what scares me is how quickly you can come smacking back down to life. I dont mean, that i had a good time, and now i feel a bit blah, cios the thing i was looking forward to has gone-although it did help having this masssive incentive. I mean, I feel so fundamentally fucked-i cant think of another word. Im so scared about everything that is going on right now-i have like a week left in halls, no money (lost my student finance cos im taking the next year out for the day unit) and hence nowhere to live. I cant get help from the council, as im not enough of a connection to the local area, and not vulnerable enough. I also cannot seem o stop eating, which is getting ridiculous now. i just keep eating. and puking and then eating again. as im being sick, im thinking of what i can eat next, which aint that helpful when your food is supposed to last another week, and youve finished all of it. shit.

so its not that im ungrateful for the amazing fabulous cant beat it ever time that i had last night-its just that now i dont really know where to go from here.

Dignitas-it makes me feel uneasy...what do you think?

Dignitas is a Swiss organisation which facilitates assisted suicide for the terminally ill, due to a slight lax in the law regarding suicide there, compared to the rest of Europe (is switzerland in the EU?if it is, forgive my appalling ignorance, but you get my point). It does also, however, provide help for those 'weary of life' to die too, in certain circumstances.

I watched this BBC documentary, in which author Terry Pratchett followed to individuals journeys-and deaths at dignitas. A word of warning before i go on-if you are going to watch it, the last 15 minutes are very difficult viewing, as the programme literally films to the end.

Now, actually, i was always very certain of an individuals right to chose to die-after all you dont chose to be born. i probably still am, i think, but ive really had some ideas shifting in my head. I believe people have a right to a dignified death. I dont think someone shopuld be forced to live through the last stages if devastating illness's, such as MS, motor neurone disease, Cancer to name but a few. But thats a personal choice. Hopsice and family care are both options, and i dont think we should ever get to the stage whee people are diagnosed, and feel forced in to an 'early death' because they dont want to be a burden.

because in real;ity-well Dignitas doesnt sit that easy with me anymore. The man who set it up, is somewhat of a fanatic-and given enough power, well, i dont think im the only person who sees a possible fascist dictator in the making. Because whilst i believe that he has genuinely done an amazing thing in setting up dignitas-it also worries me. because ultimately, noone should really wield power over wether you can die or not. its just a bit, well, weird. And yes, they have a stringent system-doctors assessments, and constant reminders that its the patients choice right up to the last minute-watching the programme, there wasnt the feeling that you couldnt change your mind-likewise, in fact, it was really bandied about before they handed the drugs over. There are checks on your medical history, and if they doubt anyones motives, they wont help at all. and supposedly they wont go near anyone having suffered from depression, or mental illness. But, having a mental illness does not neccessarily make you incapable of making choices. And there have been incidenses of dignitas helping the 'hopelessly depressed'. making it a lot more like your bog standard suicide bid, without the fall back of it going wrong. so where would that leave the genuinely depressed, who might attempt suicide in a bid for help.

I do like that the man who set it up (cannot think of his name, and had slight nightmares about the whole thing after watching the documentary so dont want to google it) is very adament that people come to him, they fill in the paperwork, they are assessed-and then they do nothing. because sometimes having the option of death is enough to keep you going. like someone from cornwall HTT once said to me -'if it werent for suicide, we'd all be dead by now'. He told a story about a young man who had been depressed who turned up unannounced begging to be helped to die. he took him in, and over the next few days, spoke to the young guy about suicide. he left about a week later with the name of a psyc, and called a few months later to thank to thank him for not letting him die. Because talking about suicide takes the taboo away-and if your feelings surrounding it are recived and validated well-then it DOES make it less likely you will act on them. there has been tons of research on the effects of talking about suicidal feelings. and i know for me-talking about it, and it being accepted and not just brushed off relieves a massive knot in the pit of my stomach.

I think it is a good thing to talk through suicidal feelings. and i think people should have the right to chose to end their life. but on what merits? pretty much everyday, i reach a point where i wholehearted,y wish i was dead. but im still here the day after, and the next. so how to tell how much i mean it, if even i dont know? it feels real at the time, and maybe given a fool proof way of doing it-heck i know i would have done it by now, perhaps thought out, but maybe on a bad day whim. I think a big part f the reason i havnt so far, is fear of it 'half working' and me ending up leaving some sort of half life.

so yes, i think it needs tightly governing-but i also dont like the idea of anyone having that power. of how easy any system is to abuse. and alright, you can refuse the 'service' to anyone with MH problems, in their present or past. but what about if i end up with a crippling, agonising illness like motor neurone disease? would i then lose my right to a dignified exit at a time i chose, because i had a history of depression? is that fair or right?

its odd. the whole thing is odd. i used to work as a vet nurse, and ive seen hundreds of people treating their pets better than they do members of their family. the dog gets terminally ill, an we put it to sleep to prevent it suffering, and to make it time as pleasant as possible. but we leave old aunty mavis in a nursing home staring in to space.

i used to be a very firm supporter of dignitas. in fact, truth be told, i had a bit of a weird facination with it, and spent a long time researching of there was anyway i could get there 'help'. heck, i even wrote to them once, begging about the misery of depression (bear in mind this was when i first found out about needing to give evidence at the court case, and i wasnt in the best of places). funnily enough, i never did get a reply. but having watched the death of the man (god rest his soul, he was so ill, i understand completely) on the programme, i feel wretched about the whole thing. so uneasy. i couldnt sleep for 2 nights, and we all know i am a champion sleeper, if nothing else. its not that it was wrong-because i dont believe it was -it was just cold, and clear cut, and so indifferent that it made me blood run cold. Death shouldnt be made to seem like a 'problem that can be dealt with', and the thing is, dignitas make it seem exactly like that. except your not arranging for your boiler to be fixed-your phoning up to book in your death.

i cant get that guy out of my head. and i cant settle. and then i think-well, i wonder if my mum would have liked to have died that way. i wonder if she would have years earlier.

Dignitas has thoroughly upset me, and its not even their fault.

*footnote.

'EXIT' ia another 'self deliverance/assisted suicide' orgainisation that appears to publish a DIY guide to killing yourself. they market it as something to have tucked away 'just in case'. NO NO NO. its just not right. theres something really not right about that. and thats coming from ME.

i actually believe in miracles now..

hahahaa i passed my written exams. this is somewhat surprising since i wrote the worlds most vague, non committed answers to some very detailed questions!

I passed the rehabilitation practical, but need to resit the assessment one. seems i can treat you, but not tell you whats wrong! I got a first for my coursework essay, which i was really pleased with, so now all i have to do is resit the assessment practical (osce) and do the 2 exams i missed in feb while i was at the day unit. LONG, everyone else has finished!!

that bitch called bulimia

i have to say, on reflection, that this really is A TOTAL FREAKING BITCH OF AN ILLNESS.

i cant be doing with going into how much it irritates me that people think this is lifestyle choice, and all that rubbish. all i can say, is if you think that, give it  months when you have crap hair, shit skin and feel like death, and then decide if its still your best friend. ugh.

so it hit me today, that i have been ill for about 14 years. FOURTEEN YEARS.

do the math, and thats pretty much half my life.

and its still holding me tight.

ok, so if your thinking you cant want to better THAT much, to have had it for THAT long, then maybe you have a point. I became ill at age 12, and dangerously caught up in the cycle by age 15. i wouldnt have admitted to anyone-or even realised it myself that i was ill until i was around 23. so thats about 5 years of trying to recover, trying to get support, and talk myself in to carrying on with life. In those 5 years a lot of stuff has happened to push me more and more into the illness. its changed its shape now though, now i know its there. its different. its like putting up a fight, rather than finding an ally these days. and still it always manages to drag me back. sometimes i wonder if it really IS an illness-or if it just is this programmed part of me. if thats the case, my mum should have kept the reciept for me, cos she bought faulty goods.ooops.

the math is depressing, but necessary. I Guess we all need a reality check from time to time.

all the same though. today, im so tired it makes me cry-well everything does. my throat hurts, i feel like ive done the marathon, rather than walk 10 minutes down the road. my tummy hurts more than words, my eyes are blurry and i cant concentrate for more than 3 minutes at a time. i have a dirty headache, split nails and dire skin. my hair has completely blocked up my shower, and im a really fetching shade of deathly pale. and this is a normal day. but oh, i lost a kilo, so clearly its worth it, right....

im kidding clearly. well, sadly not about the side effects, but about the it being worth it. even i know its not, and that pretty soon, i will have no life left. which is debatebly a good thing and not what im trying to get at here.

actually i dont know where this is going, except that im sick of this, im sick of me and im sick of not being able to make myself better.

so i really cant do failing exams

so i passed one of the practicals but failed the other. i cant do failing things.

not really sure-ness

about lots of things really. though principally, why i bother. seriously. im not too sure.

Back to the day unit

Got my date through to go back to the day unit to start the full recovery programme. depending on current patients disharge dates, will be between last week of august and mid september.

i havnt quite decided how i feel about this. I want to do it an i want to get better, but i cant imagine devoting an entire year to myself. weird. and i dont want to take leave from uni, now i have finally made friends in my year.

but, it is a really GOOD chance.

Fuck it

give up

pain perception

was making coffee earlier (this makes me feel like a real student. piles of revision notes all over the place, books everywhere and laptop balanced on top of all of that, and a continuous supply of tea/coffee/digestive biscuits), and managed to knock half a kettle of just boiled water all over my leg. BEYOND hurt, actually felt my skin sizzle.

And as i was cooling ot down and dressing it with gel pads etc, i realised 2 things. one-well, it sums my up quite well that i actually have all the dressings etc i need to sort massive burn out (i mean who has that stuff normally!), and 2- that it bloody HURT. but if i had done that to myself, it would have been the whole kettle full, and thn the rest, and it still wouldnt have hurt bad enough. perception of pain is different at different times, and its odd to have it pointed out to yourself like that.

and it really made me think about what the heck im doing to myself. and how much whats going on in my head scares me if id rather hurt that bad physically than ever think about it.

weird huh.

new pony blog

http://pony-school.blogspot.com/

Hi guys, just to let you know i have started a blog about the horse i help out with, in case anyone is interested/also horsey. dont feel obliged to follow it to be nuce, i dont mind hahaha but thats the url if anyone wants to take a looksy :)

also thanks for the birthday love :) xxxxx

can someone remind me why im doing this degree please?

well, ive definately been better.

oh the irony (aka you know its bad when...)

the guinea pig baby you are secretly keeping in halls (i mean, you have to have SOMEONE to talk to!) scratches you to shite, and all your tutors assume you have been playing with razorblades....

on the plus side, i got a first for my OSCE the other day (clinical skills exam) and a 2.1 for the exam i did in December, about 5 weeks after i did ridiculous amounts of damage to my femoral artery. I mean, theres having a bad day, and then theres that. which is a bit of a bastard, cos now i can never actually use the 'having a bad day' excuse for messing anything up- i mean a 2.1 could have been better (thats pretty much a fail to me. i only deal with firsts and A's), cos at that point i was still so swollen i looked pregnat and was crying 24/7 with the pain. and leaking weird fluid stuff(actualy more like gushing) every bloody 5 mins. and had about half my normal blood volume. This isnt an attemot to be all like 'ooh look at me i managed to do 'x' when i was broken-more that im thinking-fuck, 'well i dont know how that i managed that, but i can never fail anything now'.

i love how my brain never just lets me be.

xxx

i wish

that i either had the guts to act on the REALLY bad self harm thoughts i have right now, or that they would just fuck OFF and leave me to get on with things. I mean arent you supposed to daydream about boys, clothes, holidays, that sort of thing. well i appear to be obsessively thinking about how i would like to   cut myself apart and let all the ick out.

a lesson in blatent stupidity parts 1 and 2...

1. puking so much that you need potassium replacement intravenous therapy. distinctly NOT fun. especially because the reason you got into such a state was that you have huge amounts of work to do, and an exam in 3 days and not enough time, and now you have spent what time you did have in hospital. well DONE! Also was made to drink this nasty potassium stuff, and its so bad, it actually made me vomit, which is all really rather ironic, dont you think?

2. getting upset that you have zero friends, then finding out the ones you thought you had hate you anyway cos your a douche who does the above. Then see above.

theres more, but im too depressed to carry on writing how bloody shite i am.

which came first- the depression, or the ED?

I think there are a lot of chicken/egg type scenarios with eating disorders. But i think this is the most astute, and, as someone who has been told several times that 'im too depressed to have an eating disorder', its something i have on my mind.

Im  not sure which came first-but i know that they are very interlinked. Theres no point treating the deoression if you leave the ED untouched. you can throw as many meds at it as you like, but not a lot will change. because if you are not eating, or purging, you are just increasing all the biggest symptoms of depression-the tiredness and lethargy, the hopeless feelings.

so, how come, as a 'service user; and therefore the 'crazy person', i can see this link, but none of the professionals can. I went to my session today, and now they think im in the wrong service, cos the ED people cant 'deal with that level of depression'. cop out much! If you helped me with my food issues, maybe i would have enough energy to be awake for more than an hour at a time, and therefore not feel so bloody useless.

but you know, im just the crazy girl here. what would i know?

when did my blog become pro?FML

like really. im so confused. i appear to now have a lot of pro ed followers. Now, i fully acknowledge that im not exactly a recovery role model - and im very much stuck in my disorder. i get that. but i dont WANT it. i dont want any of it. its just better than dealing with all the trauma in my head. My therapist doubts how long id be alive if i gave up all my behaviours right now. but that doesnt mean that i dont know they arent true solutions, that it isnt just another way of keeping it all in. but you have to be in a safe place to work through it all, and i am currently not.

it really hurts me that people think i want to be this way. and i dont mean any of what i wrote to encourage anyone with their ED/SI in any way.

patterns

eat puke cut puke eat some get drunk eat puke cut eat puke cut eat puke cut get drunk some more stop eating.....binge puke cut.....


because the trouble is, this is all better than having to live with everything in my head when i dont know what to do with it all.

eat puke cut puke some more cut eat puke cut hope to die.

i dont think ive got the energy to fight it anymore

Guilt

i wrote a post yesterday about some of the things ive been thinking, memories of me and mum. and after leaving it up for a few hours, i deleted it. 

because i felt so overwhelmed with guilt. See, i hadnt intended it to be a bitch fest, but thats exactly what it sounded like.

and im not angry about those things right now, im just really upset that they happened at all. And i couldnt stand it to be seen in the light it kind of seemed.

All the same though, my brain hurts.

xxx

like a kick in the teeth

...I finally managed to put my finger on why ive been feeling so anxious, agitated and on edge. This horrible uneasyness that wont let me be still.

It's cos i want my mum.

I feel different about mum now. I think before, when it first happened, I was very angry, and couldnt see anything beyond that. And now, im so so sad. We never had the chance to put things right. i dont know if they ever could have been worked out-all the stuff that was there, in between us. But the last time we spoke we literally just screamed at eachother. She told me she hated me, I told her she ruined everything, ans then she was dead.

Im really really sad. I think the anger is slipping away, and `i dont know what to do with this new set of feelings. 

xxx

mothers day

13 stitches and rehydration drips for the vomitting.

I'd say it went well, wouldnt you?

I am such a dick.

mum

Im not ready for it to be mothers day.

i want my mum.

i want someone to help make this better, but i want everyone to go away aswell. i dont know about anything anymore, except that i really want my mum.

ambivalance

I'm not quite sure how or why ive stopped caring, but i have. i dont care if i fuck uni up, i dont care if i fail exams, i dont care about anything really. except how hideously fat i am, but hey, thats nothing new. I dont know whats happened to me. There used to be fight, and i used to feel determined to do the right thing, to get on in life, to be something.

And now, i really dont give a shite about anything. someone very clever, whos name i cant remember, said 'if it werent for suicide, we'd all be dead by now'. oh how right they are. I keep getting told in therpay to call the crisis line if i feel like self harming, that i cant control it, or feel like jumping out of my window. which is so not going to happen, and not just because being patronised is exactly what you dint need when you call. The other day they asked me if i had pms!!FML! No.im not gonna call cos i dont actually CARE what happens.

on another cheerful note, i am so broken right now! my skin is super sore, and feels like its shrunk-everytime i move, it cracks somewhere (damn eczema, i look so grim right now), ive buggered up my medial collateral ligament in my knee (see, fizzio school taught me something!) and i think my stomach lining has dissolved! my im a picture of good health :p

i might wait until i feel a bit more cheerful before i post again!

A video that gets it.

The beginign of this video makes me feel all funny to watch. Because its exactly how I feel. The absolutedesperation that the girl feels, the hopelessness of it all. How it pulls you apart, how you need it. I feel very much like that at the moment. And no, I dont look like how the girl is in 'reality'-I just-i dunno-this video makes me feel better. Like someoe out there got it. I just want all of me to go away< I feel like i want to pull chunks of it away, i get uo in the morning and i feel just this awful dispair that im just so FAT. I cant deal with it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XtcV_3lLrF0

Dear Eating Disorder- this is what we've come to

Dear Eating Disorder,

It's funny how you feel like you have always been a part of my life, and yet I dont even know what to call you. Sometimes, I think you were waiting to meet me, rather than me having to look for you. I think we were always destined to meet, you and I and that makes me really angry-I never stood a chance. You know how when you are little and your mum encourages you to be friends with people, sets up playtimes and takes you to the swings with other little girls-well thats how I feel I met you. You were the ghost of a friend in the background, waiting for me to pick you to play with. You were the friend mum wanted me to have, play with, grow with. We were introduced, you and I, and we grew up together. You stood in the background, waiting for your chance to step into the very vacant spot for my best friend. Somehow everything fitted into place, we fitted together, you and I. You made the world the right way up, you made me understand, and you made it ok. You made things seem the right shape, and you made all the bad things go away. You were everything to me, because you were always there, running one step in front of me. If I turned around you were there too. I always felt on the edge of things, like I was just watching, like I didnt, dont deserve to join in. But you were their too. Thats why its really hard to hate you, yknow. Because you were there when I needed somebody, anybody to be. You hated it when I had other friends and you would pull me back. You wanted me all to yourself and that was fine fine fine by me. I wanted you to. You showed me how to get my mum to notice me, like me. You took all the bad things away with my stepdad. You taught me how to bear it when he did what he did, and I so needed you for that. How can I hate you for that? How can I be so angry with you now. I am you know. So angry with you. I thought you were my friend. You were the only thing that ever stayed the same when everything else was just chaotic. You showed me the way when grandad died. You showed me that really, it was very very simple. To make it better all I had to do was be what my mum wanted and play by the rules. So what if I couldnt eat. At least she would like me. If she liked me, was happier, maybe she wouldnt be in hospital again, maybe we wouldnt all have to tread on shells around her trying not to tip the balance that fine line. The only thing that mattered in my house was wether mum was ok.

I really noticed you when I saw her try to die that first time. You held my hand, and told me that really, it was so easy to make this better. Control. Brilliance. Be perfect. You have to be. I will push push PUSH you to do it, you wont be alone I will be there every step of the way. You cant get away from me. But why would you want to. You helped me get rid of all the hate from inside of me, the badfeelings, bring them up and out. You came when I went to Liverpool and you were there after it happened, after he hurt me. You told me how you could make it better and I believed you. You told me to keep playing by the rules, smile say your ok and push push PUSH. Be the best.

You made it all possible because you made me not feel. Not care. You made it all feel the same-nothing. You took it all from me. You didnt want me to hurt, you were my friend so you took it all from me, rescued me from it. I needed you so much. You cared about me, but you tricked me. One day you turned on me, like you wre running at me with a knife. You saved my life over and over. And then you tried to kill me.

I thought you were my friend, but a friend wouldnt kill me.

Its like this-

I paid you to carry my feelings, although I didnt realise at the time. You carried the little things for little prices, and the big things for bigger prices. Simple. Until I couldnt afford to pay you for all the bad things, for my mum hating me, for my stepdad hurting me, for my grandad dying, for being raped for having an abortion. But you still took it all anyway, good friend that you were. My best friend. I had spent all I had, all the little amounts over all those years, my entire childhood. It added up, stacked up, and amounted to equal devestation. But you took it and then you demanded payback. 'okay, il carry abuse, but abuse is expensive. You'l have to pay with your life and live it my way, and then you wont feel any of these bad things'.

You were my best friend, but then you tried t kill me. You went from being the best thing in the world, to being the thing I hated most. You gave me stability but then you made me feel insecure. You gave me rules and structure, but then you stretched the goalposts a mile wide. You took and took and took. Its like one day you woke up and decided that nothing I did was going to be good enough for you. Well story of my life. I've woken up too. I dont want you. You told me you would make me strong and make me feel able to cope, take it all away. Well he bad things are all still there. Youve made me feel ill and weak and so so tired. Youve made me feel hopeless where you promised me worth. You change the boundaries all the time. I cant chase you anymore. Id chase you until I dies, and even then I dont think it would be enough. It wouldnt be, would it?

Give me my life back. Im serving notice on you. Vicki lives here. NO VACANCY. Sorry eating disorder.vacancy filled. Move on.

The worst thing is how you can still make me feel safe. Make everything feel the same. I think a part of me will probably always love you for how you looked after me. You were the only thing that was there for me for a while. But you made me think I didnt deserve anyone to care, that I dont deserve to be liked, supported and loved. All the time ove spent listening to you, doing what you wanted, well look at me now. I dont know what I like, and what you like, wether its the same. We are so interlinked you and I, and im so scared of pulling myself apart from you, pulling back the layers. I dont know what im like, how I turned out. I only know what you want me to be. Dont think im not grateful that you were there. I just wish id seen sooner that I didnt need you, that I could have done it a different way.

You used to be my best friend, my life.

I dont want you anymore. I want you to leave me alone and not look back. Im so mad at you. Its gone too far. I hate you. You make me feel so inferior so worthless and ashamed of myself. You make me want to hideaway, be in the shadows not worthy of anyones time. You make me feel so stupid. So tired and useless.

I HATE YOU. Do you understand?

I dont know how to end this. Im not sure what the appropriate word is. Im not 'yours', you dont have my 'best wishes' and you are not sincere. So il just put me. As thats how I would like it to be from now on. Maybe being me is the strongest thing I could ever do.

Vicki

So when am i allowed to not be able to cope? oh, i know, never.

I dont really like myself much right now. sorry, I know i should be all positive and stuff-and yes i also know that a lot of people would absolutely have loved to have had the admission to the day unit i just had (and belive me, i know what waiting for help is like), BUT-

i have never felt (been) so fat or hideous and icky and messed up in my head before. I get the ok from occupational health to go back to uni (pending a meeting with my tutor) and I immeadiately feel like everything is caving in on me. Looking at all the stuff i need to do, when all i want is to get in to my bed-nest and pull the covers up right over my head and cry and cry and cry. Im sik of bitchy people bringing me down, im sick of everything, and im sick of myself. I want to be looked after and for someone to do things for me for once, instead of having to deal with all my own stuff, then everyone elses on top. when are people going to get that i just cant do it. I cant be there for them when i have noone for me. i thought it was supposed to work both ways, so why is it always the same. I just want someone to help me make it ok. All the grown up stuff with student loans, needing accomodation sorted like yestereday-i just cant deal with it all. I want someone to help and tell me its ok. And i ask and i just get told that i know what i need to do, good girl, your fine, you can sort it out, you always do. when am i allowed to not be able to cope?why do i always have to pretend thats its ok cos thats what everyone else needs. and even when i say i not, sob and pour it out, noone helps, they just leave me to get on with it. well i need some help. I need somewhere to live but i have no money thanks to student loans fucking up. STILL. I already feel like i cant cope out of the unit, i already want to cut chunks out of myself. And i cant eat all that disgusting food. I make it, i dish it up, but i CANT eat that. im not supposed to, eating is a weak stupid thing to do, and i should know that by now. I accept i need to eat a bit to saty alive, yes. BUT noone could possibly need all the stuff on my meal plan, its indulgent and greedy. theres FUCKING PUDDINGS on my meal plan. I have never in my life had pudding before that time in the unit.why eat a massive meal then pat yourself on the back by eating something really fattening. I DONT GET IT. and im not being a drama queen here, i just genuinely dont understand. I just cant eat that, its moved on so fast and i cant make myself eat all that at home. I cried pretty much everyday eating it at the unit with someone encouraging me, But on my own i just cant find the willpower to get away from all the shit in my head and do it.

I cant do it. I just want someone to look after me for once.

there's a really big wall in my way.or a rock.or something.

I dont like my blog anymore. It seems so wholey self indulgent, and then I just end up feeling guilty for writing anything. Or i cant manage to write how im feeling, cos the words for that dont really exist.

maybe i just have to go back to pretending everything is ok for a while, because im too tired for this.

and i really dont have anything to say.

i think im taking a break, and i dont know if im going to be back here.

love

xxxxxxxx

same old story

i'm really not reasy to leave the unit. my last day is this comin thursday and im so scared about it. everything is so uncertain. I dont know if i'm going back to uni, needing to move out of halls, whats happening with treatemt-anything. and its so frightening.

I need to feel safe and i need to feel like its ok to need help, and i honestly dont know how to deal on my own again. i dont know if i can do it all over again.

over-riding thought of the day-

i just want to be skinny.

thats all

its not too much

pleeeease.

i need this. i cant stand being this FAT.

im very sorry, but i cant eat that food anymore. It doesnt matter of you tell me its medicine, its prescribed, i need it. I just dont trust you. you told me you were going to help me, but you havnt. you've made me feel soo much worse, so far from ok, you've turned me inside out, and now you are going to leave me to it. I cant do it. Not on my own. Im too tired to fight this on my own, and Ed says im fat, and weak and pathetic, and actually, im inclined to agree.

please. I just want to be noraml sized, and little like everyone else. I cant even do one thing right for my mum. she said i was fat, and she's right, and now i need to be skinny.

really far from ok

really fucking far. but its ok though, because im sure a hot bath will distract me from my thoughts and make me feel oh so relaxed when my whole freaking life is falling apart. and for the record, i dont HAVE a fucking bath.

Have i metioned how much DBT irritates the shite out of me. ( sidenote-before i continue, im going to apologise for the increasing amounts of swear words occouring in my posts of late. id replace them with alternatives, but the truth is, typing them is strangely satisfying. FUCK!). Yes, i know that it teaches very seful distress tolerance skills and im not knocking that. I'm even, surprisingly for me, not going to bitch about how much i dislike mindfulness. to be fair, my intense loathing of DBT stems from being taught it as an afterthought in a CBT group in Cornwall a couple of years ago, by 2 trainees who had never done anything before, triggered the fuck out of me by asking me to focus on thoughts about abuse, them left me to it when i went mental having flashbacks. But thats another story. The point im trying to make in a very skewed and roundabout way is this-thats its all very well asking someone to push these hurtful and difficult thoughts away, back in to their tidy little space in your mind, ready for when they are actually wanted (never)-but repeatedly telling me to ignore this things and distract byself from them is rather like telling an ant not to move when its about to be trod on my a mammoth. theres so much of it, there isnt room for it all in my head anymore. you cant ask me to talk about things in a very brief way, without pulling these thoughts forwards, making me re-live them and then expect me t be able to handle it. i cant file them away when they havnt been processed. And being continuously told that its not theright time to talk about things is just making me feel like i should be ashamed, that my experiences are invalid, and not reason to have led to this, and like, still, after everything, noone is really listening to me. and thats what hurts.

I got told today by one of the psycotherapists-who'd never spoken to be except 5 mins today-that the EDservice wasnt going to be able to help me after these 4 weeks, because they didnt think it was the appropriate way forward. so im right back to where it all started-thinking i was going to get support, when in fact, im going to be left on my own to cope in 2 weeks time, with still not a clue about food, still struggling very much with ED behaviours and feelings, and knowing that im going to get no more further help. oh, and the ED service told my uni that im not fit to go back this year, so now, i dont even have uni to go back to, and the structure of it to help me through, and no help to deal with the massive implications of that. because you cant pull my life apart, and not expect me to fall apart.

Im not fine, and im not fucking ok

its not alright. its not freaking fine, im not fine, everything IS NOT FINE.

im NOT FUCKING OK, AND I'M FRIGHTENED COS I'VE NEVER NOT KNOWN WHAT TO DO TO MAKE OT BETTER, FIX IT. apart from eat everything, eat nothing, puke my guts up, or slice through vital arteries.obviously.

IM NOT FUCKING OK. IM REALLY, REALLY, REALLY NOT.

its not fine, im not fucking fine. 

end of the first week

and i have no idea how i feel.

pick from any of the following- fat, tired, hideous, upset, frustrated, confused, overwhelmed, sad, anxious, angry, stuffed full, guilty, and i could go on.

i'm really worried about this weekend. I have my meal plan to follow at home, which is pretty much the same as the unit. they sorted me out food for the weekend, so there are a million and one tinfoiled wrapped parcels in the fridge. and 2 massive ready meals for lunch each day. I really dont know how im going to manage to eat it alone, find the courage and will power to do it.

i feel so mixed up. it would be so easy to not eat a thing this weekend, restrict and make it all fine in my head. But what would have been the point of the previous week if i do that?all the upset and anxiety.

today was really difficult, because i had a lot of external stuff to deal with (mostly due to my favourite people, job(knob)centre plus messing me around all day about benefits) as well as having to plan for the weekend and just generally being in a state. Then i got really frustrated and angry with myself for losing my rag with the jobcentre people on the phone, and then just felt like the most worthless person in the world. I felt hugely overweight and horrid and just downright fat and ugly today. one of the girls asked if i was bulimic, as opposed to anorexic, and she had presumed it form the way i look. which is such a shit. I had a chat with one of the others, and its just like, saying things like that-it just puts even more emphasis on appearance and body image. and at the end of the day, if you have an eating disorder it doesnt matter what your diagnosis is-because everyone is different. not everyone's illness is the result of the same things, so the behaviours that we use-they mean different things to all of us. it just pissed me off.

i feel horrible. i dont know what to do with myself. I have really bad self harm thoughts because i feel like ive just messed everything up today, and thats what i deserve.

ARG.

trust?er, yeh, good one!!!

I'm not feeling my best today. in fact, i feel like shit. like all the stuff thats in my head has just started leaking out and its pissing me off, cos im not in control of it. I had a massive meltdown at lunch today (cheese and tomato omlette-another new thing, chips and peas.who makes this diet up?!) and just started crying, then couldnt stop. I just managed to finish it in the time limit, and i hate myself for eating it.

see, theres a lot of sides to this. theres the side that sort of knows that i need to eat, or, essentially, im gonna die. and theres the side of me that remembers all the years i was told that eating was bad as a child. and that my mum would be totally disgusted with me. I'm not in the mood for any 'but your mum was ill' kinda comments, no offence. then theres ED telling me im a fucking failure for giving in and eating. And the unit staff telling me i have to eat. and me not knowing which part is right. it makes you cry.a lot.

I got pulled aside after lunch to have a chat about how i was feeling. The gist of it is that i have to accept that im not really able to make decisions right now-but thats ok, cos this is a legitimate illness, and its ok to let other people make them for me. She wants me to trust them, and let them make the decisions. Buy how can i do that, when my whole life there has never been anyone i can rely on, when ive always had to sort everything for myself, and most of the time, for the rest of my fucked up family. how can i trust anyone to do what i've had to do for myself for all this time. All ive learnt from life, essentially, is that if you dont do it yourself, it wont get done, that noone at the end of the day really gives a shit about anyone but themselves, cos thats all ive ever really known. how can i trust them to make the biggest decisions for me? Eating, starting to eat again, not vomiting, not self harming-thats my whole life that they want me to trust them with, all the things that hold me together. As soon as i let them tell me what to eat, look what happened, i ended up a complete mess.

I dont want to go back to Uni. im dreading it already, how stressed im goingto be, how difficult it will be to catch up. I dont know if i can do that. I want someone to figure all this ut for me, look after me-but i cant let them, i cant let them take charge. I dont understand. I desperately want to be taken out of this situation, to be told what to do, but i cant let anyone, cos its a total headfuck. and yes, i do understand that ive completely contradicted myself. its about not feeling able to let anyone else do it, or that they dont take how big an issue it is for me seriously. Like, im only going to be at the unit for another 3 weeks after this one. if i cant go back to uni, what the fuck am i going to do with myself?i dont feel well enough to do anything, but im not able to do nothing. I'l have no money, and nowhere to live.in short, il be beyond fucked, even more than i already am. But going back to uni is, quite possibly, going to push me totally over the edge.

Trust?are you having a laugh?!

A post that has the sole purpose of telling everyone how brilliant i am.me modest??!!

Ok, so 2nd day on the unit, and i was all ready to have an absolute eppy about how little i was allowed to drink yesterday. I was soo dehydrated yesterday and it really upset me. Like, im willing to admit that I drink a lot, possibly more than they would call 'normal'.ok def more than they would call normal.see, i can be reflective! but it annoyed me that they just assumed it was to avoid food-its not, i genuinely feel thirsty a LOT, and as it just comes straight out of me (ask any of my friends how many pee breaks i need during the averagephone call!), and has actually been a lot worse since i had the catheter back in the summer.

But figuring throwing a fit wouldnt go down to well, as would being caught necking water out of the tap in the loo's (i was desperate, dont laugh) i thought the best thing would be to try mighty damn hard with food today then broach it again.

Heres what i ate today (be proud, this is more than i ate in the entirity of last week, and possibly the only day ever of 'correct' eating in my life. i think it should be a natuonal holiday in honour. Vickilovesbows day. i like it. anyway, i digress.)

Breakfast- bowl cornflakes, slice of toast with one teaspoon of flora, and one of jam, glass of orange juice and 200mls of milk. Had to drink half the milk (grim) cos was too much for my cereal.

Midmorning snack - very milky coffee and 2 digestive biscuits (fruit delivery hadnt arrived yet, this is normally the afternoon snack)

Lunch  - Cheeseflan (ewwww i even hate the word flan), brocoli and roast potatoes. We get 25 mins to eat the main course at lunch time, and if you dont finish, then it counts as restriction. I really struggle with the meal time boundaries-mostly because a lot of the food is new to me and im so self conscious with everyone else. I managed all but about a third of the flan before the time was up. They werent too impressed with this-but im quite proud of that actually- i ate something id never had before, that i thought was horrible, and with a lot of other people. For pudding we had to have a large serving of crumble, with 2 blocks of icecream-sooo much, but i managed to force it down-and ive never eaten crumble before either, so thats pretty good.

Afternoon snack- I had an apple and a glass of water.

Dinner- I have a cheese sandwich and a salad which i got made at the unit for this eve, then i just have to have an evening snack from the 'single snack' list.

I got a glass of water with each meal/snack apart from breakfast, and managed to negotiate that i was allowed one extra glass of water between breakfast and lunch, and from lunch to the end of day at the unit. which still seems ridiculous, but a bit better.

The bad side of this is that i have never felt so disgustingly huge, fat and guilty in my life.

BUT-im really proud of myself. I havnt been sick, not once, not even in the evenings when im back home. I did fuck up a bit last night, and cut my arm a little-but managaged to stop myself before it got more than a scratch.

So, at the risk of being a horrid brag, im so damn proud of myself. but also a little ashamed of the fact that i need to be proud of this, yknow. its weird. the unit is weird. The other girls are really nice, very friendly, and genuinelly tried to make me feel more comfortable on my first day, and talked about how they handled it at first. popular saying at mealtimes when someone is struggling is to say - 'just think its your medicine-you NEED it', which actually kind of helps.

If anyone would like a copy of my maintenance meal plan from the unit, or the single/double snack lists for ideas, leave your email in the comments book and i will send it to you, cos its pretty helpful.

xxx

excuse me while i go drink 4 litres of water...aka my first day.

i am so ridiculously thirsty. before this turns into a rant, let me clear a couple of things up. I dont drink instead of eating, even on restrictive days. I drink loads because i ALWAYS feel thirsty. ive always drunk a lot, its just the way i am, and on average i probably drink around 7 litres of fluid a day-water/squash/diet coke/juice anything really. Over the course of the day at the unit i was allowed 1 litre of fluid. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME! its not like i drink before i get weighed either. Im not going back there if they wont up my fluid intake. the unit mamanger promised me i wouldnt be left feeling thirsty all day, when i discussed this with her before admission, but everytime i tried to ask about it today they said i had to stick to the prescribed diet.well they can fuck OFF. i ate their enourmous amounts of food, so they can bloody well let me drink.

I've not got a massive headache and feel so thirsty i want to cry. And im so full of shitty manky unhealthy hospital food.

i feel like its my first day at school...

first day nerves

yikes im scared and i dont want to go. a day filled with food, and my special favourite-groups.yippee.

maintaining

I hate that word. I dont want to maintain my weight, i want to lose it. I dont see whats so wrong with that. I mean half the world is on some diet or another, and the government is always on about healthy lifestyles and BM-sodding-I, and i am overweight. I mean like obviously. so why wont they let me get to a normal weight, and then maintain it? Cos if i weighed less id be happier to eat and maintain that weight. Its just that i know im massive, and i hate it and it pisses me off that im going to get even heavier in the day unit from eating insane amounts of food ALL DAY LONG. And it droves me mad that whenever i try and say this to anyone, they go on and on about disordered thinking and giving in to the ED thoughts. yes, ok, but how can they miss the point that im really overweight, so it would be healthier for me to lose it anyway. ARG.

well, today was fun. I spent most of the day attatched to an ECG machine, and various other monitors, cos I had the most hideous chest pain in the world yesterday, everytime i moved, or did anything. I purged yesterday and i thought my heart was going to explode or something. everything hurt and went all weird and fuzzy.

im scared i cant do it. like, really scared.

enough

like really now.

i'm not gonna lie...freaking out about day unit

what the title said.

My friend Becky at Uni today told me that i have to stop worrying about things I cant change, and just let stuff happen. The problem is-I feel like i SHOULD be able to fix everything. When I met with the manager of the day unit last week, she told me something I never really realised before. I said that I was sick of thinking about food-worrying abou what to have, how much to have etc etc and she said the difference was-that 'normal' people DON'T think about food, they just do. They dont think about what people think of them when they are eating, they dont overanalyse, they just do.

The thing is, I dont think im a 'just do' kinda person. there is a lot of comfort to be found in thought and certainty, mapping out how things are going to be. I like knowing, i like order, and structure. Thats just the way I am.

But for the purposes of this- heres what im worrying about-

• The day unit. because i dont know what to expect. I mean everything to do with it here. Im not saying im not committed to trying to get better, and really pushing myself to change, im just saying imscared of what I dont know. I mean you have to bear in mind-i've NEVER eaten 'normally'-becasue mum was ill too. so i got taught all the behaviours, and bullied in to it, and pushed and ridiculed until i learnt that food can make you feel in control, and found the emotional links for myself. hello full blown ED. Most people in recovery ate normally at some point in their lives, so they have a reference point. i dont-and im freaking terrified.
• Uni. All the stuff im gonna miss and how the fuck im goig to catch up.
• occupational health. the bane of my life. Have been summoned to see them again, and its never good.
• exam results.I cant change them now-but not knowing what they are is driving me insane, and taking the exams in the first place is a lot of the reason im in this state now.
• My first Clinical Placement, which occupational health have decided i cant do. whcih is made me super stressed, as we have a massive assessment based on it. At this rate, im going to be doing the first year for the rest of my life.
• All the work im missing. yeh i know i already said this, but im really worried about it.like a lot. almost enough to make me think i should just stick it out without the treatment. but thats stupid-ive been fighting so long for this-i just wish it had happened last year, before i got here. 
• all the paperwork i have to sort out for uni. Just when i think ive done it, more turns up.
• the amount of food im going to have to eat and keep down next week. im gonna get massive. i want to do this, but im scared. however much you want to get better, it still's terrifying-the process i mean. changing EVERYTHING all at once. what if i fuck up, and get kicked off the unit cos i cant do it. then i really might as well give up.
• gaaaah, all the stuff i need to sort out with my personal tutor-if he ever answered his poxy emails

So yeh, Bec is totally right. But in practice I cant do it, I feel totally overwhelmed and just want to cry. again. and thats not even half of it.

•  

Middle of the night procrastination...

I cannot sleep.

This makes v little sense to me, seeing as at half  nine I was ready to sleep for about a year ( actually to be fair, i felt like this at 8am when i got up too!), and its now nearly 1am and I'm still awake, have been laying in bed since half ten thinking not very nice things.This wouldnt be so much of a problem if I didnt have to be up in not very many hours time to get to Uni. I cant miss anything else before i have the time off to go IP from next week or il never catch up again.

possible reasons why I cant sleep

• im all hot and bothered. Yes, im well aware its january, but my body inexplicably thinks its the height of the summer season in magaluf or similar.
• I have severe anxiety related brain ache.
• I have the worlds worst tummy ache
• cannot work out of stomach ache is due to my stomach lining dissolving and finally giving up on me after an awful purge session (massive dinner fail), or because i am hungry. either is equally likely. dont you just love the fucked up-ness of eating disorders...like, im in crazy pain, i could be about to die, or i could just be hungry, gee i cant really tell anymore!
• im dreading practicals at uni tomorow. we are doing hip examination, which is going to involve a lot of people seeing a lot of my scars. Funtimes.
• I have a tone of prep to do before my clinical visits this week, but my brain refuses to work.
• I think im hungry. could really fancy some cheese and beans on toast...gaaaaah.but my tummy HURTS. how can i think i want food when it hurts this much. possibly, someone has tampered with my brain.
• I feel like-and think-that in between the time i got in to bed, and now i have gained about 2 stone. I feel ginormous.
• did i mention that i think im hungry?
• Im REALLY scared about starting at the unit next week.

Well, gee that just about sums it up.

Preparing for inpatient next week (and other stuff in between)

I have this weird anxiety feeling that i just cant shake off. It's so suffacating i feel like i cant breathe. I've just been reading back over some of my old posts, and from just before i ended up in hopsital from cutting through my artery. That seems ages ago now, but its not really. And all the grief that it caused-with Uni, friends, the physical implications- was it worth it? The endless appointmets and meetings with Uni staff and doctors and more doctors. well on the surface, hell NO. And god, the pain of it- especially when it got so infected-oh my god i feel sick thinking about how much it hurt.

Not that simple though really is it? Theres more than one side to it. Yes, the obvious downside is that everyone at Uni thinks im a total freak (rumor has it, yknow). But is it easier that my Tutors know I'm struggling- well yeh. It suks a bit, im not gonna lie, cos noone looks at me the same way, and they all skirt uncomfortably around everything, obviously wary of what might happen. I dont want to be treated differently, I dont want leniancy or anything else they might think. And I wish i could have talked out all the crap inside me that made me do it, rather than trying to damage myself until it went away. But it happened, and i cant change that. But i can change what miht happen in the future. I cant always change how i feel, but i can do things to try and help- and Uni knowing means that I can more easily arrange time off for appointments with psycs and the EDS without getting bollocked all the time. It means I dont get the third degree if i say im ill and i cant come in. It means that i get offered support (albeit fairly uselss), and that occupational health can literally kick me up the waiting lists of the ED service.  It means that Tutors are more willing to arrange catch up sessions for me if they know why I'm not there. So i'm not saying its the smartest thing ive ever done. and yes, it was a helluva dangerous and scared the living shite out of me. But maybe, it wasnt the worst thing ever either. Dont get the wrong idea-i'm NOT saying it was some kind of stunt i planned. I just mean, that I was having a horrid time, I tried talking but noone really understood, and I needed support. And now i have a lot of support from my personal tutor (in an odd kind of way) and a few people I can at least try and talk with when things are feeling icky, and they get where in coming from - like when i say im feeling bad, i dont just mean a bit fed up.

And it also means that when i rock up and say I need a month out to do an emergency IP admission to the EDU they just hand me the forms, and accept it, rather than getting shitty with me that its right in the exam period. Ok, i mean i know they have to let me cos its on medical grounds, but they dont have to neccesarily be helpful either-and as much as they peed me off last week (il get to that) they have been good on this. And they are letting me stay in Halls whilst im in the day unit, which they are not obligated to do.

So, from next monday, I'll be attending the day unit at the Eating Disorder Service at Springfield Hospital (if youlike irony-my mum spent most of her life in this place) from 8am-4pm every weekday, for 4 weeks. This is an attempt to stabalise things at the moment, before my heart and stomach really start to get pissed with me. Then I'll be put on the waiting list for a longer admission. I met with the Units manager on Friday. I officially felt like the worlds biggest idiot by the end of it. Like, I want to be better, why cant i just stop this already. It makes me feel so pathetic. Im so scared. All that food. and the other people there. and just everything really. I know its going to help. But i also know its going to make me go insane first-I cant actually remmeber the last time i ate without throwing up after. Or ate with other people, let alone breakfast, lunch and the snacks inbetween. I'm scared of what will happen, whayt i will end up thinking. I'm really bloody scared that i wont be able to talk about it with them, and they will think that im not serious about getting well-i am-its just-overwhelming, the amount of change about to smack me in the face. i've been really trying this week, to minimise Ed behaviours-and actually just be aware of what my Ed behaviours are. Theres a lot more than i thought, properly ingrained in me:(i feel so ashamed and embaressed writing this)

•  The way I drink soo much water/diet coke/whatever. Partly this is prob because the purging makes me dehydrated. But ive always drunk a lot, and I think ive kind of taught myself to need that much fluid. And im really worried that im just going to be permenently thirsty at the unit. I dont do it to fake weight gain-as im over rather than under weight anyway, but I know its prob not right to drink that much.
• Eating really slowely with other people, but fast when im on my own
• when eating with other people mashing food up and pushing it around my plat so it looks like ive eaten it.
• purging
• bingeing
• laxatives (but not very often)
• having a really limited range of foods i will eat.Im far too embaresed to go into this today, but that something i know needs to change.
• putting loads of vinegar on food so i dont want to eat it.
• watching others eat, whilst just drinking myself and feeling smug. come on, im not the only person who does this!
• not preparing food in front of others. I hate people seeing me havig anything do do with food.
• im sure there is more, but fuck me this is depressing. and shamefull. so to keep a little bit of my dignity i might finish this another day.

I'm really scared. I'm scared that I need help, and ashamed that i need it, want it. What does that make me? i should be over this, better, not getting worse.

Have you ever been IP? how have you dealt with all of it? What if the words still wont come out. What if it all just stays stuck in my head, and I cant purge, and I cant cut, and its all trapped inside still. what if i really lose it?

So this week is my last week at Uni before my time off. Im am SO stressed and worried and panicky about all the work I will be missing, which isnt really helping. But guess what?! I have my first real grown up physio placement this week! 2 half days observing a third year (which we then have to do an assessed presentation on), and my placement is on a paediatric unit-BRILLIANT!!! im so looking forward to this (but im pretty nervous too) as paed's rehab is def one of the areas im more interested in and it will be a great one to start with, and hopefully inspire me to keep with it and hang in there.

I shall end this never ending post with a pic from this weekend- the 'full moon beach party' Disco at the SU. Heres my costume!

Bloody Bikini's in Jan!! I'm posting this to prove a point to myself- I might not be the skiniest girl in the world (and hell knows im no where near!) but i dont look utterly repulsive either. well, much. you know what i mean.

xxx

keeping it all inside

I watched a harry potter film over christmas-cant remember which one it was, and they went to the ministry and ended up in these room full of prophesis, and memories, stored in these weird glass ball-type things. And only the person they are about can see them.

I wish I could do that. Because keeping them all inside of me is killing me. And I cant seem to say things any more. But maybe one day, i might want the memories back, when I feel better about them. I dont want to lose them, i just want them to go away for a bit. I mean, they are a part of who I am, shaped things, made me, so they are important. I just dont want them to hurt me for a while.

So, if life was like harry potter, then i could store my my memories away, keep my secrets safe, and stop the need to pull myself apart in an attempt to drown them out. If real life was like Harry Potter. self harm would not exist. Well, its a theory, and im on a lot of meds right now.

The thing is, they are my memories, and my secrets. And i dont think I can keep talking about them to the HTT, the EDU, and everyone else that wants a piece of them. It hurts to much to tell, but keeping it all in is like having this storm inside my head. And the only way to calm the storm is to make myself sick, or cut myself until its all soothed away. for 10 minutes.

Maybe im missing something, cos i think i died and went to hell - must have stopped paying attention or something. or maybe it slipped my mind. anyway- i feel like im trapped in bulimic hell.

Stuck between a rock, and ..erm...(aka something that might offend but im going to write it with the best possible intention anyway)

Why do those with bulimia not get taken as seriously as those with anorexia? Bulimia has just as dangerous consequences, and yes, i do realise what the stats are for Anorexic deaths (funnily enough), and that being seriously underweight has severe implications- but so does tearing your oesophagus, or having an electrolye imbalance.

So why is it that if i were, say, 5 stone lighter id have all the help in the world, but because im an average weight i have to wait soo long for help. Bulimia is just as much as problem.

I say this because once AGAIN after being promised help, and desperately trying to hang on over the weekend, ive been pushed aside again. because someone of a lower weight needed the bed. I was supposed to be admitted today in an attemp to help my stop the vomitting at such high levels. So when I got a call saying that they wouldnt be able to do anything for 2 weeks-when they could admit me for 4 weeks to the day unit to help stabalise things-i wasnt too happy. 2 weeks is a long time when you feel like your in hell. and im just sick of getting promised things that never happen. I've still got really bad chests pains, i still feel triggered to hell by just about everything, and am stuck in a horrible cycle of flashbacks and binge/purge/cut behaviours. Im really trying to stop and get out of it, but i cant, and i dont think i can go on like this for 2 more weeks.

First day back at uni tomorow and i cant even go.things were supposed to be better this term and ive just fucked it all up.again.