I never knew that I was so capable of crying so much. I don’t find it particularly freeing or as though all this crap that I’ve been storing up and letting out is making me feel any better. In truth, all I feel is exhausted. How many more nights can I stay hid away in my room, curled up on the worlds most uncomfortable bed and feel like my world is ending. Repeatedly? There hasn’t been much support on the ward lately and I haven’t had an actual one to one with any of my team in a couple of weeks (except for half an hour when someone walked in on me in tears and later having a panic attack). It’s like I’m just here, being fed, taking all of the hurt and living with it inside of me daily where it continues to grow. The Eating Disorder side of my brain has exploded and now I am struggling to finish any of my meals. Some times I want to leave, shut myself off again, let it destroy me, let me destroy me and then there are the other days when the thought of living with this illness for the rest of my life terrifies me. I remember how much I hate it and want it gone. I think I’m worried that one day my care team will wake up and realise that I am not cut out for this process and they will give up on me, just as I have given up on myself so many times before. They almost did last time. They thought it was too much for me and asked me to take my 72 hours leave to think about whether I wanted to be in treatment. I don’t want them to do that again. I don’t want them to confirm the thoughts that I already have and those 72 hours will not tell me anything that I don’t already know. I know that if I go back out there now then it will all unravel faster than I can blink.
I don’t know what happened to the person I was when I came in. It was…11(?) weeks ago and I was so sure of myself. I knew what I wanted and I thought mostly that I was capable of it. Yet somewhere along the line my confidence has been chipped away. The self-belief that I had almost seems quite foolish now. I admit that I am disappointed in myself. I expected more and it frustrates the hell out of me. I know that this whole thing isn’t really over yet and that hopefully I will figure out a way to pull myself out of this place but I am losing the hope that that is going to happen. In the last few days I have been reading over some of my old posts, trying to see where all of this went wrong and I went from managing to barely here. I can’t pinpoint the moment. I think that’s what pisses me off. If I can’t identify that time then what is to stop me from continuing to come back here over and over again? Is there even a point to this? I fear I will be one of those people that keeps making the same mistakes and never learning my lesson.
I want to come back to you, as the person you first signed up to start reading. I want it for me too. I want me back because I don’t like the person that I am right now and I mean that I don’t like what misery has turned me into. It’s not fun.
I hope your day has been good to you.