I got a call from intake this morning at 9.31, it’s now 4.19pm and I still haven’t called them back. I’m far to anxious to call them back, too afraid of what they’ll say, whatever they say, it won’t matter, it’s all bad. In other news I have my doctors appointment in just under 2 hours, and I’m really not looking forward to it.
My psych came over today. We spoke about the pending discharge. I ended up breaking down, which I had promised myself I wouldn’t. I thought it would be humiliating crying to her about the fact she is leaving me, but in reality it was comforting. Not only was it a relief knowing she already knew I’d felt that way, and that it was entirely normal, but that it was hard for her too. We spoke a lot about what that means for me, and how far I’ve come. And although that is scary, we spoke about how for the first time in my life, I’m afraid to die, and that is what makes me strong now. I’m not longer afraid of the next 20, 30, 40 years, instead I’m excited, and determined to see them, the good and the bad. The fact that I’m no longer suicidal, no longer self harming or a risk to myself in regards to my depression, is a huge thing, and something I should be proud of. It will take me a while to get over this, to move on with my life, away from my depression and all the years of pain and misery, it will take me a while to move on from her, my rock in hard times. But I will, and slowly it will make sense, it will feel right.
We discussed what we are going to do for our last session, we’re going out somewhere, we’re tossing up between a meal out, afternoon tea, maybe going bowling. I know it’s going to be sad, but it’s just another step in my recovery from my debilitating depression that plagued me almost my entire life.
Now I just have to focus on recovering from my anorexia.
I was tagged by makemehealthyplease, and I’m so, so glad she did.
Porrige-princess’s My Body is my Best Bud Challenge!
treat your body like your best friend.
say nice things about it. don’t point out the things you hate, but find the things you love.
so join in with loving your body. post a picture with the caption ‘porridge-princess’s my body is my best bud challenge’, tell us what you love about your body, post these rules, tag #porridge-princess and #mybodyismybestbud and tag as many people as you like to do the same!
I chose this photo. This photo was taken on my last day of treatment, just under 3 months ago now. Here I was a healthy weight. But more importantly I was a happy weight. Because my body was happy, it allowed me to function normally. I love the weight I had on my body - my thighs, provided me with the energy to walk up stairs and home from uni, my stomach was comfortable to lie on at night and my arms allowed me to wash my hair or shower without feeling fatigued. My hair was long and thick, my face had colour and shape. I was able to fit into clothing that someone my age should be wearing. I didn’t want to post a photo of my body right at the moment, because I don’t love this body, it’s not mine, it’s foreign and sick, but I do love this one. I love it because it gave me everything, it forgave me when I’d done nothing but try to destroy it. I love my body, which is why I’m determined to get it healthy again.
I chose to tag j-ir, misgiven—thoughts, chronic—hope, dancing-with-despair, careandcuriositykilledthecat-de, dyingdais-y and I invite anyone else who wants to take up the challenge and give some love to your body.
This made my day. I forgot I wrote that online, you are 100% right, I now have the opportunity to do this the right way. You are so beautiful anon <3
I don’t feel comfortable putting my weight on the internet, if you come off anon I might be happy to share.
The class didn’t react. We are in partners and play out nurse and patient roles. At the end of the class the ‘nurse’ stands up and does a handover, just like what would occur in a real hospital. Once one person is done, the next stands up, there isn’t any conversation about it.
I didn’t believe it until I saw it. I stepped on the scale and all I felt was sadness.
I had class this morning and we are focusing on health assessment, which involved this week, measuring height and weight. I usually wouldn’t have stepped on the scale, but I think a part of me needed to know how bad it had really gotten, know it for myself. I’m tired of being told I’m sick, when I don’t feel as though I am. But not only the realisation, when my height was measured, that I’d grown, but that my weight was even lower than I had been told, frightened me. I have a new low weight. The shame hit me like a wave. I felt humiliated having my partner tell the class my BMI, that I was underweight, during handover. I feel so degraded, so pathetic. I could hardly concentrate. All I could think about was how badly I want to gain weight, how different I would feel being told my BMI was a healthy 20. I never imagined I’d want to hear someone say that. It was terrifying suddenly understanding just how sick I really was, I’m so desperate to be well again. I am so angry at myself, so overwhelmed with guilt. I’m miserable. This isn’t what I wanted yet I’m back here again.
Yes I do, however whilst I’ve posted a lot about my eating disorder on there in the past, recently I’ve been trying to keep my instagram as separate from my eating disorder as possible, with the exception or two. But that may change, who knows. If you would like to follow me it’s karleehill.
Please don’t be worried, I’m okay!
At the moment I’m waiting to hear back from intake, to see if they have a bed for me. I’ll find out sometime at the end of the week. I’ll most likely go ip at some stage in the next month to get my weight up and support around refeeding. The idea is I get my weight up as fast as possible, as I’ve had a lot of trouble with in the past, at butterfly it took me 10 months to restore my weight, and we just can’t afford to wait that long with my medical state, so going ip and getting the weight on quickly is what my doctor thinks I’ll need to get back on track with my recovery.
Until then I’m being closely monitored by my doctor and dietician (who is keeping me on for another week until we sort something out). I’m gradually increasing my calories, as to avoid refeeding syndrome, so at the moment I’m only allowed my three meals, because it could be really dangerous if I eat any more than that (ironic right). And I’m getting ongoing blood tests and my vital signs assessed, as well as another weigh in on Friday. If I’m stable on Friday, I’m allowed to start adding just one snack on, if I’m not, I’ll be placed on a general ward. I don’t know what happens if my weight is down, because I don’t know how likely it is that I’ll gain with the small amount I’m eating, but we’ll see. At the moment it’s just a bit of a waiting game.
Physically yes I’m probably sicker than I’ve ever been, but psychologically I’m in a much better place. I’m able to fight the cognitions and think rationally, I’m able to actively help myself out of this relapse and I’m willing to eat what I’m being told I need to. I’m still going to uni and seeing friends, and last time I was this sick I didn’t leave the house. My situation is very different. I really feel like the past year has taught me so much, and although I’m ashamed and angry I let myself get back here, everything that I have learnt hasn’t been a waste, and has left me in a far better position to pick myself back up this time around.
So there is an update, sorry for the essay <3
Something I never thought about.
I was just writing notes out for psychology, I’m currently studying Human Development. It is stated in my textbook that “early-maturing girls typically feel more self conscious about their bodies and are more likely to eventually develop eating disorders, problems in school, major depression and anxiety”. This struck me, a concept I’ve never considered being apart of my eating disorder. Whilst I’ve always had “issues” with the feminine body, believing I should be ashamed of it, I never considered whether my very early development played a part in my mental health and difficulties at school. I started to mature around the age of 11, and very quickly. I was bigger than most girls in my primary school, and most throughout high school. In high school, when most of my friends were relatively “flat”, my large chest always drew attention, not only from females but males. Even as I’ve reached my lowest weight, my chest is still quite large. A huge trigger for me throughout my eating disorder was the fact that I had a chest, that even though I was boney everywhere else, I had these huge breasts, which I always wanted to get rid of. I just wanted to be like everyone else, I wanted to blend in, but instead I stood out. For some recovering from an eating disorder, particularly anorexia, they are excited by the prospect of developing breasts, where as for me, my already large chest, become larger and more ‘embarrassing’ for me. I have incredible insecurities around the way clothing fits my upper body, the fact that even if I have a flat stomach, my boobs will always make sure no one would notice. Not only have I psychologically felt very uncomfortable in my upper body, physically in my younger years I had a lot of trouble having such a large chest. I feel like these things are all contributing factors to my utter disgust and shame around my chest, and the development of my eating disorder….
Food for thought.
I don’t know when I received this, if it was recent or not, but I want to thank you anon, I really needed this reminder.
They keep saying this is the sickest you’ve ever been. But I’m not, I’m fine. They tell me I’m at my lowest weight, that my heart is under that much pressure I’m not allowed caffeine. They tell me I’ve lost over 11% of my body weight and I’m a severe risk of refeeding syndrome. They tell me they are that close to admitting me to emergency, that my doctor was so concerned she was worried not sending me to hospital was a huge mistake. They tell me these things. But I’m fine. I’m up and at uni, I still eat 3 basic meals a day everyday. I’m not feeling depressed or deprived. I feel like I still have the same levels of energy I had before. I mean things can’t possibly get this bad this quick right? And I feel okay? So what’s the big deal. Mum said its not even funny how sick I’ve gotten myself. Like I think its a joke anyway… I asked her this morning, “I know it’s going to take a long time for you to trust me again, but even if you can’t trust me, believe in me, believe in Karlee who chose life and who’s fighting for it, please?”. Regardless of what she thinks or feels though I need to go home and eat lunch so I can get my weight back up. My ed is screaming, skip it, you can make it to a new low weight, but Karlee is screaming no, that this is far enough.