Hospital

On Friday I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital. I was there for 6 days. The story of why I went and how I got there isn't that important, just that I knew I couldn't stay safe any longer and that if I didn't go in, then I would definitely take my own life. I chose a hospital two hours away from me, because they had an eating disorder unit that I was hopefully planning on moving over to. In the end, my shitty insurance denied coverage for me to go the eating disorder unit. It was one of the most frustrating and disappointing experiences. I needed the help with my ED, but my insurance company disagreed.

When I found out about that, I decided to come home. I was no longer suicidal or severely depressed. My medications had been stabilized. I came home and while I still have my job (thank God), I am taking this week off because my boss wants me to get myself situated back home and then return to work on Monday. My therapist wants me to go to a treatment center for my ED. But I declined. I have my job, my vacation, and rent to pay. And if I can get myself together while staying at home, then I won't need to go to treatment. I have two treatment centers in mind, in case things don't go as I hope.

So now I am doing a form of intensive outpatient therapy with my team. I will be seeing my dietitian and my therapist twice a week. I'm not sure if I have a time limit as to when I have to be improving by, or whatever. I saw my therapist yesterday and it was an okay session, although I have some doubts about her and I'm not sure who to talk to about that. I see my dietitian tonight, and I am beyond excited because it has been too long since I've last seen her and I miss her bunches. But I'm also nervous for that appointment because I'm sure she will be giving me a meal plan and other instructions, and I have lost weight so I'm worried about the possibility of weight gain drinks.

My parents are pretty much monitoring everything I do, even though I don't live with them. They supply my meals and make me stay at their house during the day. It's hard to get away from behaviors unless my mom has a really busy day at work like she had yesterday and today.

I guess...it is what it is. And I've realized that it's up to me, and only me, to decide to start improving and eating the way I should. No one can make me. Sure, I have tons of support. But no one can do it for me. I have to decide for myself. Which is honestly, terrifying. I have been reminded that I had a good full year of recovery, so that means I can get back to that. I don't know what went wrong or why, but maybe that doesn't matter now. Maybe I just have to get myself together and do what is right.

Anyway, I will try and keep this blog updated. Hope all is well with everyone.

here's what happened.

I headed off to therapy. In my last blog post I wrote about how shitty my insurance is and that it does not cover mental health services (including therapy). So anyway, that was weighing really heavily on my mind today and I talked to my therapist about it. She recommended that I somehow convince my parents to pay for me to go every week for a month to work really hard on trauma work, and then if they/I can still not afford it, we will have to do every other week. Okay, I am just freaking out at this point, internally...not letting it show. Also I told my therapist about my recent struggles with restricting. She said for me to journal about what I'm eating each day, or what I am planning to eat, and the feelings surrounding it and whatever is going on that day. Totally do-able. Then, she said I need to start eating 3 times a day. Freak out starts happening. I have been eating only once or twice a day for a while now (not full meals) and bingeing at night. I have been using my eating disorder to numb my emotions. My therapist kept saying to me, "this is not about the food. you are not freaking out about the food. you are freaking out about fully dealing with your emotions." While I know she is right about that, I still am freaking out about the food.

So, I left my therapist's office, went down the elevator, got into my car, and had a panic attack. Then I went to my parent's house to speak to my mom about the whole therapy thing. I told her, "Mom I really need therapy once a week right now" My mom responded that she and my dad cannot afford once a week right now and I have to cut back to every other week. Okay, I know every other week does not sound that bad. But I have been working the hardest I ever have in therapy and need it more than ever. My parents do not know about the abuse, so they do not know how much I am struggling. After hearing this from my mom (I still need to talk to my Dad), I went back to my car, and had yet another panic attack. I texted my therapist...haven't heard back...she's probably still in sessions.

At least I have frisbee tonight, to run off all of this shit in my head.

I also have some goals I established in therapy today. Right now I don't want to do them, just want to cry under my covers. But I know I need to step up and make things change.

My goals:

-journal every day
- sign up to take the medical assistant certification test
-look for jobs on craiglist.com
-breathe
-eat 3 times a day.

This was super long. Sorry about that. Just a lot going on.

struggling

it's my birthday tomorrow, which makes me hate myself for writing this post. i should be doing well and happy and positive on my birthday right?

I'm working on the abuse in therapy, which has been hard, but necessary. However I think it's sent my anxiety into overdrive and I'm MAJORLY resorting back into my ED. It's weird though, I really don't feel much anxiety. I have been restricting a lot and I know it's not good but I have no appetite and eating feels so hard right now. Definitely something to discuss with my therapist...

which brings me to my next issue. My new insurance from work SUCKS. It does not cover therapy. And I will most likely have to change some of my doctors because they are not in my insurance network. I cannot afford therapy on my own, and my parent's are having financial issues themselves. I am petrified that I will have to cut back on therapy, and I'm not sure how I would deal with that. Never been in this situation before, and I'm panicking.

Like I said, tomorrow is my birthday. I will be 22 years old. I am spending the day at Busch Gardens with some friends. SO excited! I LOVE rollercoasters! Then I am having birthday dinner with my family later that night, and birthday cake afterwards. Just to throw it out there, cake is my biggest fear food. I am going to try and resist the fear and have a piece of cake on my birthday.

Right now I'm hurting though. I want to curl into a ball on my therapist's couch and cry and cry. I don't want to lose therapy. I need it right now, more than ever.