I didn’t get my leave for the weekend.
I thought I would. I thought that for some reason that the rules would not apply to me, so that even if I didn’t reach the target weight gains then because I’m not unwell like everyone else I would be still be able to go on leave. That theory was obviously wrong. By now you’d think I was used to being wrong but still I am not. The thing is I don’t particularly want to be on the ward at the moment. It’s a pretty crap atmosphere at the moment, though I guess it’s been like that for a while. The difficulty with any space like this is that people can begin to feed off of each other and I’m not sure how much more I can sit and watch it happen. People are falling like dominoes and as one goes down they take several others with them too. I’m not sure when we last had a meal here without someone walking out. It’s not cool. I even thought about taking my 72 hours this weekend just so that I didn’t have to be here but I know that I am not in a secure enough place to go home and sustain my nutrition for 3 days on my own. I’m not even back on track from last week yet. I should be worried about this seen as though it’s not going to be that much longer before I get to my target weight and get discharged. I need all the practice of leave that I can get before then but weirdly I’m not. Maybe that worries me more?
I’m just not handling things very well at the moment and yet I am bored of saying that I’m not ok. I have spent most of the day trying to pretend that I’m something I’m not. What I want is to stop feeling like I have to stop being so goddamned polite and scream and let this shit out of me. But I can’t. I can’t let my emotions get that unchecked. I can’t vocalise all of those thoughts that bounce around in my brain. Yesterday it did catch up with me again in the afternoon and I spent a good few hours crying in bed. One of my nurses came to discuss the no leave thing and found me that way. All I could think to do was apologise for being upset and when she asked me what was going on, there were very few words that actually came out which explained what I was feeling or thinking. In the end she asked me to go back in this week and see Dr J. When I did, I told him I didn’t know how he could help me anymore. I was out of answers. I am running out of hoping for something better. He suggested two things. The first was adding a new medication. I’m not keen on this plan because it would be an anti-psychotic and I didn’t really like them before. I’ve said to leave that one for a while and see how the next week goes. The other option which he doesn’t think would actually be useful would be the 72 hours. Yet I don’t need that time to tell me anything that I don’t already know. I know that going back to the Eating Disorder and walking away from recovery will not make me happy or allow me to even survive. I would regret the decision. Always.
So I have to figure out something for myself. I have years of knowledge and of tried and tested ways to get me through things and so I am going to have to write some kind of plan to implement them and pretty much bombard myself with everything that I have ever learnt. It’s not going to be easy and I may not be ok with that but I accept it. I accept that I made this mess and I have to climb my way out of it. I am the expert on me. I have the answers somewhere inside of me and I need to find them.
I hope your day has been kind to you