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Words 2002 Words, May 2002 pregnant-looking belly in a leotard | pregnant-looking belly in a leotard |
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Breakfast: Strawberry yogurt, milk. The meds guy caught me tonguing my meds. I told him I took them though. The guy who took vitals this morning saw my cuts and asked if I cut myself. I'm all "no, my cat did it" he's all "really?" "no, not really." Peggy, the resident psycho is calling me "cutie," loves my hair and says I'm beautiful, coming from her that's not a huge complement. Although I haven't heard her say it to anyone else. Crazy wig lady's calling me "sugarpuse." (sp?) I seem to have made friends with just about everyone, a few more to go. I'm shaking like a leaf from lithium I guess. My eyes are all screwed up. I'm ME here. I smile and laugh several times a day. I socialize like nowhere else, I can make idle conversation with ease. And I enjoy it. Everyone knows who I am and they smile and wave and I'll initiate conversations all day long. This is how I should be in the outside world. Is it not? I'm supposed to be writing a letter to my parents, telling them all the things I feel they need to know. Dear mom and dad, Your daughter's a whore. I mean what do I say to them that will answer the questions they won't know how to ask? What do I say to make them believe? I have something to tell you and before you ask any questions, please let me say this. My eating disorder, the cutting, the social phobia, and the depression did not happen for the reasons I've been telling you. I never told you why because I didn't think you'd believe me, or that you would react in a way that I couldn't handle. You're going to have a lot of questions and I will do my best to answer them, but let me finish first. You don't have to weight 90lbs to have an eating disorder. It is abnormal thoughts about food and body weight. From freshman year to senior year I was bingeing, after graduation I started starving myself and cutting because I needed some control and this felt like the only way. I'm still cutting and May 23 I cut pretty bad and I had decided that I wanted to starve myself to death. That's why I went into the hospital. I need to do partial or an eating disorders in-patient program because I still want to starve myself. My therapist has all of the razor blades I have but all she can do about the eating is verbal and she's not there when I eat so it's difficult. My daily caloric intake used to be about 100cals. I try to eat and I get depressed even more. At one point a couple months ago I could hardly drink water without getting depressed. I was even bingeing and purging for a while. Of course you don't think it's serious, it's because you can't see. You don't know all the things that go through my head when I sit down to eat, how horrible it feels to be full, I feel like a failure. And when my stomach feels like a vacuum it's so empty, I feel like I'm in control, like I've accomplished something. I can't "just eat." I need to learn what "normal" eating habits are because I don't remember, and i need the thoughts to go away and no matter how hard I try, I just can't do it alone. I want you to read this book for me: "Stick Figure" it will help you understand. I'm still cutting and I haven't stopped for more than a couple months since I started. I'm not asking you to understand because you can't. All I'm asking is that you believe me... My roommate left without saying goodbye. I've had three guys walk up to me and introduce themselves. One was a Metallica-lead-singer look-alike named George, that happened at lunch. Then he sat down and started chatting. someone from his table told him to stop harassing me so he left. The second one was tall and skinny with a mustache named Jeff. He commented on my choice of meals, "Is salad all you eat?" (I had salad for lunch and dinner) and asked me to sit at their table (They being their unit's table) "We're really not bad people" though I was done eating and said I had to go, that I didn't think they were bad people (with exception of one, though I didn't say that). Then as I was putting a puzzle together some guy who works here made small-talk, introduced himself to me as Fernando. I think there are few people who don't know me here. How I manage that one, I have no clue. Sit around saying please and thank you, help people, humor them, listen when they talk, and be patient. I guess...? That's all I really do. Lunch: small salad. Dinner: smaller salad. My pdoc came by today and he said my blood tests are perfect, asked if I was a vegetarian, I said I was then he said: well, whatever you're doing, don't stop 'cause it works. I'm thinking maybe they switched my blood with someone else's. Does my hair look different or something? Because this is NOT normal. Kinda cool though. My eyes feel so weird they're watering. I can't figure out some of these people though. Some only come out for meals, others are ALWAYS out but just wandering around aimlessly. I want to be friends with the recluse and her loyal subject. This one girl has bulimia, never comes out of her room, hardly. The other was just nice to me and she doesn't seem to hate me. That's always a plus. No more sitting outside with the chain-smoking gang though. I can feel the smoke in my lungs. Social recreation this evening. What the hell's social recreation.?? My mother hasn't called today, I wonder if my therapist said something to make her upset. my pdoc is gonna try to get a couple more days out of the insurance people. I'm really not ready to leave. Somehow I have to tell my mother. so, I called my mother, totally over-played the ana card and she soon fell silent. She said they authorized five days but no one told me that. So in the meantime, I'm panicking over when I'm supposed to leave and bitch asian lady won't help me. Anyhow, I went on about how much I eat, that I've lost five pounds since I've been here, that they couldn't pay me to eat a grilled cheese sandwich, and other things. She said she'd do whatever was necessary for me to be well and if I REALLY wanted to, I could do the program in Sand Diego. And even though that's amazing news, I'm still worried to death about whether I'm supposed to be discharged tomorrow or not. It's a freak show around here. The business office doesn't communicate with the nursing staff, the doctors don't communicate with the patients, admissions doesn't communicate with the doctors. It's a disaster area around here. There's no one to talk to anymore. Everyone's hiding in their rooms at about 7:30pm and I'm in the lounge sitting on the couch with my knees up and my head on the arm. I'm a little surprised no one's watching the basketball game, even if just to see who's won what. Okay, this crazy lady with the wig just laid down on the other couch. She's making sickening grunting noises, rubbing her big fat pregnant-looking (but not) belly in a leotard. Big singing black dude said with my hair, I could be the bread girl, he explained and i said "well, thanks" as the door closed behind me. There's a new guy up on 2 east, looks about my age. i went for a walk after dinner, twice around the perimeter. I wish I could weigh myself on my scale, without my shoes on. I want to go to bed early but i have to take my meds and call my friend at ten. OMG crazy wig woman's snoring. My roommate snored too but she had the courtesy to do it quietly, dryly. My stomach's growling, I hardly ate anything today. I just went for 9:00pm meds and there was a little old lady there taking forever so he just motioned that my meds were ready and passed them right over her head and she didn't even notice. I don't know, I just thought that was funny, maybe you had to be there. Location: Las Encinas Hospital (again) Last update: 29-05-2002 23:00
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