Updates: Media (lyrics) has a new layout. I could never figure out how to lay it out, but it's easier to navigate now. I'm still working on a better duplicate Mamblog mod. I'm trying to make submittions easier but the poetry form died for some reason. Quizzes are also on their way from the old site. Joomla content isn't very code friendly so I'm having to rewrite old code. You can still click on News > AH v21 > Screen if you wish to use the quizzes.
November 26, 2002 (7:37pm) The structure that I depend on daily is crumbling at my feet and no one seems to be able to help me. They're trying to force me to go to an eating disorder outpatient program rather than the program I'm going to now. I called my therapist four hours ago to tell her if any decisions were made like she asked me to but I haven't heard back. I don't know what to do. They made me drive down to this other place I'd never been to to take an assessment which I failed miserably, I cried the whole time I was explaining it to the facilitators at my current partial program and all they way home, I called my therapist like I was supposed to, as of 1:45pm my therapist had not yet called partial regarding my insurance which had to be done by 3pm or there was no point. I'm starting to worry that something's wrong with her, that she couldn't call. There's nothing I can do except sit and wait to hear different. Today was supposed to be my last day in partial. In addition, I won't see my therapist for about two weeks and Thanksgiving's Thursday. I've had to deal with this all on my own. My mother doesn't even know this is all going on. The last thing I need is for her bugging me constantly, calling insurance to complain. I'll tell her when a final decision has been made. I was told to go to my current partial program tomorrow, that insurance will authorize it, that they wouldn't just make me leave the day i find all this out, they're not that cruel. I hope that's true. I want to cut so bad, I want to say that I called my therapist today like I'm supposed to before I cut and I didn't get a call back, I want to justify it so badly. For some reason, whenever my therapist is going to be away for a period of time, everything here goes wrong. I'm starting to wonder if there is a god and he has it in for me. One time she left and my parents forced me to see a new therapist, I couldn't refuse and I had no one to help me through it. I cut the worst I've ever cut. There was a repeat of the "bad Thursday" once, I know I cut then too but I don't remember how bad or what exactly happened. Last time I was in the hospital, I was put in lock-down and my therapist was out of town for that period of time, as well as my psychiatrist. And now she's out on maternity leave, and everything's changing around me, and I can't get ahold of her, and I don't know why. I haven't been online, I've been carrying my phone around with me all day, and I check messages if there's ever a possibility that the phone rang and I was unable to get it. I left a voicemail message on her cell phone like she asked, I don't know what else there is to do. Except sit and wait. I really want to cut though. I didn't even want to spend enough time in the kitchen to make dinner for fear I'd miss a call or something. I've never cried in partial, and today the facilitators were looking on as though they were thinking "OMG she's actually crying, the world must have come to an end!" One facilitator who calls me "Peanut" or "Little One" came in from the outside to look on, he's not even my facilitator because he does the CD group (substance abuse groups), I only have him once a week for discharge planning, or a video. I don't know what to do, how to proceed. This is when things get unmanagable, when I'm forced to do things against my will, when my stability is threatened, and when therey's no one there to help me get through. I'm worried that my therapist hasn't called because something's wrong, I'm also worried that she hasn't called and nothing's wrong. I'm worried about making anyone feel guilty for not being here, or that I'm too insignificant for anyone to care. I'm worried about people thinking they know more about what's best for me than I do, I'm also worried that they're right. I don't know what to do but I slept so much this afternon that I can't now, at least not until later. I hate that I gave my razors up, it's all that makes me feel better when I'm alone. I don't want anyone upset with me for doing it, I just want to do it and feel better and be done with it. I just wish I was someone else.
November 15, 2002-2 (7:44pm) Today I sat in group, waited semi-patiently for my turn to check in. And when I talked it was, once again, the intern who asked me if I had cut, not the facilitator. And I couldn't say it, with fifteen other people in the room listening to every word I said, and the fucking deaf facilitator I had to repeat every damn word I said at least once. I was so afraid that my whole body was shaking, it still is almost 12 hours later. A friend of mine told me to go with her outside while she smoked. Everyone kept coming up to me and telling me in their own interesting ways that it'll be okay. I sat with my friend and she tried to get me to talk and stop shaking and it was just awful. Then the facilitator had us do this thing where we put our name on an index card and passed it around the room and everyone had to write something nice about each person. Someone wrote on mine, among all the very kind notes, that I "seemed too quite, not caring." Just what I needed. When I was leaving my pdoc's sidekick was there so I had to wait, he was on the phone. Apparently they told him right away and he wanted to put me back in the hospital, he didn't know that I cut, he thought this was a first time thing. Luckly he called my pdoc and he said "she does that, don't put her in the hospital if she doesn't want to go." So he repeatedly told me to tell him if I change my mind today. That's when I went to my therapist's office where she told me I'll probably be back in the hospital by the end of the week. I don't cry when I'm alone, it just doesn't seem necessary, but I won't cry in front of people. I sat in front of my therapist today and used everything I had to keep from crying. Now all this just doesn't seem important enough to waste tears on. I'm shaking so bad because I know what I did was wrong yet I have to tell certain people before I can calm down. I just want to sleep. Things are always better in the morning.
November 15, 2002 (12:26am) I'm preparing myself for a lecture tomorrow...several. I have to sit in front of Friday partial and tell everyone that I sat at home last night and cut with a serated kitchen knife. The one I use to cut meat. And I have to tell my therapist, who I was supposed to call first. I've created this rule in my head that unlike everyone else in this world, I'm not allowed t talk about myself. I'm not allowed to feel badly. And they ask me why I don't cry, why I don't ask for help. I want to just stay up tonight, look awful for group tomorrow, make this all less of an effort. I don't want to show them the cuts, I don't want to talk about it. I just want to see my therapist.
November 14, 2002 (5:05pm) Can you say screwed?? It's been two and a half weeks of this...eating thing. As of two days ago when my mother said I didn't eat enough of my dinner, the first time she's EVER said I wasn't eating enough--just at the time when I start trying to recover rather than two years ago as my 100lb sickly looking self when I hit bottom and WANTED her to tell me to stop--eating just seems...unnecessary, a waste of my time and energy. I can't seem to force that food down my throat that used to signal a change for the better. Now, when things are getting better between us she has to poke her nose in where it doesn't belong. She had her opportunity to say something when my life was falling to pieces two years ago and she chose not to. It's been too long, too much has had to happen without her support and I'm through with it. It's too late, getting on me about my food now is not going to make up for anything, it just makes me angry that she thinks it will. She should just treat me normal, or be encouraging. Her criticism only makes it more difficult to want to try, to want to take care of myself. I want her to think about what she's saying for a change. But I know that will never happen. She'll never change and I'll never be able to keep from taking it personally. I started looking into SSI after everyone at partial told me I should and that I'm probably qualified. I need to get out of here and it just doesn't seem like something that's going to happen in a reasonable amount of time, afterall they're all on it and some of them don't have that serious of a diagnosis. I feel like I can't get better until I move out, yet to take classes, to get a job, to move out, I have to get better. I don't feel like I'm getting better when I am eating. I feel like I'm permantently screwed, and nothing I do is ever going to change that. I'm not sure I'll never get away from my parents, and that feels like the worst thing in the world.
November 11, 2002 it's re-occured to me why for 4 years I relied so much on caffeine pills, caffeine drinks, caffeine, caffeine, caffeine! I also put myself through the withdrawl headacheds about once a year, or when 3 NoDoz and a 20oz Mountain Dew no longer gave me the desired effect. This wired, high, shakey, fuzzy headed feeling is what allowed me to graduate high school with honors, attend a top private college and survive my first semester there. It's when the high is no longer high enough that I slow down and become human once again. Being human isn't satisfactory. I must be super-human, with the ability to function without sleep, food, or any sort of down time. This is how I strive to be. This is my ideal.
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