I had my intake assessment for the PHP/EIOP at the eating disorder center this morning. It went pretty much as expected, I’ve been through it before. The worst part is just now waiting. The intake coordinator I met with this morning meets with her team on Tuesday morning to go over new intakes, so she said I’ll hear from her Tuesday or Wednesday of next week with their recommendation as to which program. I don’t know when I’ll hear about whether insurance will approve a higher level of care.
I’m trying hard to work on my own to cut down on my binging and purging because of my diabetes diagnosis yesterday, but I’m not having a lot of luck so far. However, I’m going to keep trying. And hopefully I get into the partial hospitalization program or evening intensive outpatient program to help out.
Last night was day 3. Dinner was hard and I barely finished, eating my last bite right as time was called. Right after dinner was art therapy. We start art with a visual check-in. We have 3 minutes to draw how we are feeling. I was overwhelmed from dinner, so I drew a sad, crying face surrounded by a bright pink circle that represented my anxiety that was enveloping me.
The art teacher suggested that for my first night in art therapy I try creating a safe place. A place I could imagine and go back to when I was feeling overwhelmed. I decided to work with colored pencil and chalk pastels and made the above image. I chose fields because I feel calmest when I am out in nature. I chose a solid tree because they make me feel safe to be under. I put a swing on the tree because swinging makes me feel relaxed. I put mountains in the distance because I love to look at the mountains. I didn’t have time to give the sky color, but I like the way my picture turned out. And in the process of making my safe place, much of the sadness, overwhelmingness, and anxiety left me and I was much more calm for the next group.
I’m also taking a college course right now. I’m taking a prerequisite for the nursing course I want to get into: Human Nutrition. This class is fascination, and triggering as hell. One project I’m working on right now is a diet analysis. I have to track my food intake over a number of days using their diet tracker software and it automatically tracks the nutrients I am consuming, including my calories, vitamins, and minerals. I am not supposed to be tracking calories while I’m in treatment, and I find this software very triggering. I find myself wanting to not follow my meal plan because I have to submit my diet analysis to my teacher and I don’t want her to see me eating all this food. I see the calories listed in the breakfast I just ate and I want to go vomit. I really need to talk to my team about how to handle this because it’s been really hard on me.
My intake assessment for the eating disorder clinic is tomorrow. I’m nervous as heck.
Since it’s tomorrow, I thought it’s probably time I should tell someone in my life that I’m seeking treatment, so I told my mom. It was HARD. I told her I had something I needed to tell her, but then it took a good 5 minutes before I could work up the courage to actually tell her what’s going on. I cried.
My mom said she suspected I was struggling, but wasn’t sure. She said she’s glad I’m seeking treatment.
I don’t like talking about myself with people. I don’t like telling people I’m going into treatment. It’s hard and uncomfortable. I think I’ll hold off telling anyone else until I know whether or not I’ll be admitted.
Pictured above is me simultaneously doing an angry dance and a facepalm of frustration. Why? Well, it starts a couple months ago.
The psychiatrist I was seeing at the mental health clinic where I go for treatment of my bipolar disorder, bulimia, self-harm, suicidal ideation, etc quit a couple months ago. I was informed via a letter in the mail and told I would now be seeing a new psychiatrist and that I needed to call and set up an appointment after a certain date. I waited until said date, called, and set up an appointment, a month out (her first available appointment, apparently). I waited anxiously for the date to arrive as I could tell my meds needed to be adjusted. The day before my appointment, I got a call saying my appointment had been canceled because my new psychiatrist had quit.
So, I called intake to get an appointment with another psychiatrist, only to be told I couldn’t be seen by another one at the moment because they were shorthanded. Not good enough. I got the number to the intake manager and left her a message letting her know the situation and that I really needed to be seen by a psychiatrist. She promised to “work on it”. Today, I went in to see my therapist and we went to speak with intake together. We found a psychiatrist with a last minute cancellation so I could get in to see someone this afternoon if I was willing to come back later. I was. They scheduled me and I left, finally feeling like I was making progress.
NOPE! I got a call just before noon saying they needed to cancel my appointment! No explanation could be given. I am so fucking frustrated! I just want to see a psychiatrist and get my meds adjusted. Is that really too much to ask??
I left treatment last night. Now I feel lost and sad and overwhelmed and unsure what direction I want to go. I’m making breakfast, but I don’t know if I’ll do 3 meals and 3 snacks. I kind of really want to restrict.
My intake assessment is tomorrow. It’s so close, but so elusively far. I’m nervous and scared and hopeful, and scared of being hopeful.
I’m afraid they’ll tell me they can’t or won’t help me. I’m afraid they will help me. I need this. I know I need this. Yet it terrifies me.
I’ve been fighting the last few days to hang on. When I get this kind of build up of anticipation, my anxiety goes through the roof. I’ve done a lot of binging and purging and laxatives, but I’ve been trying not to cut, and I’ve been fighting the strong urge to overdose.
I just need an answer. One way or the other, I need to know what’s going to happen. I don’t do well when I don’t know. I don’t like not having things planned out. The unknown and uncertainty drive me nuts.
I’ve only slept 2 hours in the last few days. I’m sure that’s not helping any.
I am getting some water down, and I remembered to take my meds today, which is good.
I couldn’t sleep at all last night, so I got up at 6am after trying for hours to sleep. I had been wanting to cut, this seems to come up more when I’m sleep deprived, so I grabbed a coloring book and my colored pencils and colored for a bit while I listened to The Wonder Years on Netflix.
After everyone else woke up, I went and used my bike until I thought I couldn’t pedal anymore, and then made myself keep going. Afterward I took a shower. It’s a good thing there’s a bench in my shower, or I wouldn’t have made it, my legs were like liquid.
I have taken both weight loss pills and laxatives today, but I’m feeling pretty good.
On a positive note, I told a friend about my ride situation and she offered to take me to my behavioral health appointment in the morning. I’m very relieved. I know that I need to go tomorrow, and if I had to reschedule, I’m not sure I’d work up the strength to go.
In other news, my x-rays are scheduled for next Thursday to see whether or not I have rheumatoid arthritis. I’m looking forward to that just so I can find out one way or the other.
I need to study today. I’m scared of failing my classes. I just can’t seem to get myself to actually do it. I also want to exercise again before I go to bed. Hopefully I can actually sleep tonight.
I feel like there’s more I want to write, more I want to express, but I can’t seem to actually form it into anything.