I hate myself right now.
I hate myself right now.
From my first morning on the Psychiatric Wing.
I hate social situations that involve a lot of strangers. This was no different. Most of the other patients were nice, friendly, and reached out to me, but my anxiety was high and I wanted to flee.
I arrived during dinner, which was bad in itself. I hate eating around others. However, I decided not to draw any more attention to myself than necessary by refusing to eat. After dinner, I promptly purged. I was so happy to have the room, and therefore the bathroom, all to myself. I then had my first shower in a few days, which made me feel worlds better. Then, off to my first group.
During my last hospitalization, I didn’t eat and I didn’t attend any groups, and that obviously wasn’t helpful. This time, I decided to attend as many groups as possible and try to get the most out of it I could. My first group had me questioning this decision as it comprised breaking up into 2 groups and playing balloon volleyball. I still don’t know the purpose of this group.
I chose not to actually participate in the game. It had been a long 2 days, I was tired and grumpy and just wanted to go to bed. I’m sure I looked terrified whenever the balloon came my way because I did not want to have to hit it. Luckily, “my” team was good and won without my help. After group, I took an Ambien and went to bed.
I woke up several times cold but was too tired and too achy to get up for another blanket. This morning, I woke up with a lot of self-loathing, wanting to die, wanting to stab myself, wishing I could destroy myself. This feeling persisted throughout the day.
At breakfast, I was tempted to take the knife with me and cut. Purging helped soothe me a bit. There are a couple ladies here I’m 99% sure are anorexic. I want to say “I’m eating, but I’m also purging everything!” I feel the need to justify eating. I am, by far, the fattest person here.
And sometimes, like tonight, I don’t know how to handle that.
So I just cry instead.
Today I wore one of my 2 “skinny dresses”. They’re the same dress in different colors. They’re tight on me. My mom says they’re not, but I feel they are, and I feel uncomfortable in them. That’s why I wore it. It was a constant reminder not to eat. That if I lose some of this weight, I will be comfortable in this dress. That if I don’t eat, this won’t be my skinny dress anymore, it’ll just be a dress.
What do you do when you’re a train wreck?
What do you do when you sit in a room of people playing Rock Band 3, all enjoying themselves, and you feel absolutely alone?
What do you do when all you want is to be alone, cut, and binge and purge, and who knows what else?
What do you do when you just want to talk to someone about how your life is falling to pieces, and you mentally go through the list of all the people you know, and none of them are people you feel you can tell?
What do you do when you have company from out of state and you just wish they would go home so you can fall apart with some semblance of dignity?
What do you do when you can’t keep from crying, no matter what you try?
What do you do when everywhere you turn for help tells you to go screw yourself?
What do you do when life just doesn’t seem worth it?
What do you do when you hate yourself more than you could possibly hate anyone, including people who do horrible things to other people?
What do you do when you don’t know how to keep going, but don’t know how to stop?
What do you do when it feels like you’re actually going insane?
What do you do when you wish tomorrow would never come?
What do you do when you can’t even get through a single day without some kind of meltdown or mental breakdown?
What do you do when you have all the questions but no one has the answers?
What do you do when you are the train and you can see you’re about to derail, but you just can’t do anything about it?
What do you do once you finally derail?
What do you do?
Does it even matter?
Two hours into my workout, I had to stop.
I couldn’t breathe, I was very dizzy and nearly falling off the bike and losing my vision (which is the precursor to passing out), and my side felt like I had torn it open. What the hell?
So, I very reluctantly stopped. I hated myself for stopping. I hated my body for not doing what I wanted it to do. I hated that stopping meant leaving myself vulnerable to binging and purging.
I’ve had 12 grapes today. I’m afraid to eat more. I don’t understand how I can be terrified to eat and simultaneously binge. I have the stupidest brain in the world.
So, I’m resting now. I tried drinking water, but it was making me nauseous, so I stopped that. My plan is to avoid eating, rest, and exercise some more before bed.
I see the mental health guy again in the morning. I’m not looking forward to it for multiple reasons, one of which being that he keeps telling me to go to the doctor and I keep forgetting to actually call my doctor and set up an appointment. Ugh. I’m going to try to remember to do that in the morning before I leave for my appointment. I wrote myself a sticky note. Wish me luck.
I set my alarm for 8:00am today. I needed to leave by 8:30 to make it to my appointment at the mental health center. I had so much trouble waking up this morning, and with hitting my snooze button, I finally crawled out of bed at 8:26am. I threw on a dress, pulled my hair back, and ran (walked slowly) out to the car.
I was a little late to the appointment, but not excessively. The appointment was painfully long. (It really just felt long, it wasn’t longer than normal.) I did end up telling him about how not-well I’ve been doing. He suggested/threatened calling an ambulance right then. I was able to talk my way out of that. I’m not sure if that was the wisest choice, but I’ll talk about that in another post.
When I got home, I was absolutely wiped an very dizzy. I thought to check my temperature and it was 102.4. Well, there’s your problem. I think I was also very dehydrated. So, I drank some water and went to bed. I slept for a couple hours, got up, binged and purged, and went back to bed.
Now, I am resting and chatting with my family. One of my brothers is over. He made his own board game and my dad asked him to bring it over so we can play it. It’s a fun game. They got pizza. Yay….
So, now I shall spend time with my family. I’m looking forward to it. Not the pizza part, but enjoying the company of my family.
Oh, and I still haven’t heard from the ED clinic. I called again today. The mental health guy said he’ll also call them. Hopefully I hear something soon.
“I want to cut my fingers off.”
“I don’t deserve to have fingers.”