I. Have. Royally. Screwed up. My parents have caught me in my dirty lies. They managed to get everything out of me. The whole, ugly truth. The restricting, the… medications, the lying. Everything. I shouldn’t have let them. I should have kept those extra bottles and packages, and kept going. Now I’m gaining weight. And I’m hating it, as one would expect. Granted it’s only a pound, but it’s been 5 days and it’s fluctuated above and below that. But luckily, my parents don’t know my real weight. They’re not smart like I am. They don’t know that your weight fluctuates 5 lbs every day. They don’t know that you’re at your lightest in the morning. And that’s exactly when I weigh myself. To know my correct weight. Because if I went by the numbers they take at night, I’d be having a heart attack. Granted I don’t have the best scale on the market, but it’s decent enough to round to the pound or half pound I’m closest to. And that’s good enough for me.
But that’s not the worst part about this whole ordeal, that they found out. They’ve threatened literally everything. Taking me out of school, putting me back in the hospital, putting me back into program (which is hell on earth), shoving a tube down my nose and force feeding me. Everything. They claim they don’t want to do any of it. They claim they want to work with me. And I’ll give it to them, they are trying. But they’re not listening to what I want. I don’t want to eat 3 meals a day. Let me eat 2 and be happy with that. That is the way I can maintain the weight I’m at, or if I’m careful, possibly even lose. I’ll just shove weights in my bra when they weigh me. I want, no, I NEED to get to my next goal. And the goal after that. THEN they can put me in the nuthouse. THEN they can stuff me like a turkey again, and we can start this whole cycle over again. They don’t understand that they’re just going to send me down this spiral again. I gain the weight, I lose the weight, I gain the weight, I lose the weight. It will never end until they finally see that I am not going to change my ways to stay thin and beautiful.
So now where does that leave me? Caught. I have mental health issues as well that really need to be dealt with that could easily put me inpatient as well. But what will the doctor decide is a more dire need? Ana, or overall mental health? I have a visit with my psychiatrist tomorrow, and he’s the one that could send word over to the mental hospital that I should be placed inpatient. My parents are going to the appointment as well, so they’re going to put their two cents in, and I just have this gut feeling it’s going to be a horrible appointment. Horrible, and critical as to what comes next for me.
And then what happens? What if I do go inpatient? Upon discharge, there are 3 options: PHP (Partial Hospitalization Program), IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program), or just plain Outpatient (with therapists and psychiatrists). I highly doubt that if I go inpatient EDP (Eating Disorder Program) that they’re going to release me to just Outpatient. But I can’t do any other program! I have school! I have a life! The times of these programs are at the exact same times as my classes, and it’s not like I can skip classes for 4-6 weeks and then make up the work. I won’t understand a thing! And if it comes to me having to skip a term, then it screws up my whole schedule! I absolutely, positively cannot do a program if I go into and then come out of the hospital. I just can’t. So I’m stuck. Do I get the help I need, or do I go on with my anxiety attacks, panic attacks, depression, suicidal tendencies, and eating disorder issues until summer? I simply do not know. And that scares the living shit out of me.
Waiting for Life to Begin 