Eating Disorder unit in Vienna

During my stay in the ICU Unit it was heavily debated what to do with me during Christmas break. Nobody seemed to realize when I was admitted that such situation would arise, so I was left feeling very nervous. There were two options- I would stay in the hospital over Christmas in a general open psychiatric ward, or I would leave the ICU, go to the ED Unit for a week, go home for Christmas and then be re-admitted. Together we chose the second option, because I didn't want to waste eating disorder specialized treatment that was approved by my insurance company.

The first week in the ED Unit was rough. I realized that nobody would be checking what I ate or how much I ate. Everything was left up to me. The only monitored thing was my weight and if I wanted to go outside, for example, I needed to gain 0.75-1kg per week. I started purging again, but before weighing, I would chug water in order to manipulate my weight. Also, I had to drink 3 nutri-drinks per day and sit with the nurses for 20 minutes after I finished them, so I was gaining weight from those. I wanted to go home for Christmas. Had I known how Christmas would play out, I probably would have stayed.

Over the Christmas break my mom and I traveled to our cottage in Terchova. I was supposed to stick to the routine I had in the ICU, but I couldn't do it. There was food everywhere. Eating calmed me down. I was a wreck, so I ate and purged. I even drank in order to rid myself of the destructive thoughts. It was overall a terrible experience.

After Christmas I was supposed to return to Station 6B and continue with the treatment. My insurance company made a mistake and put the wrong date on my paperwork, so I couldn't be admitted. I had to go home to Bratislava and deal with the bureaucracy and then come back. It lasted about a week and my condition worsened. I was losing weight and my somewhat good spirits. When I was supposed to go back I no longer wanted, but I did.

When I returned, my regime was pretty open. I could leave the ward and go to the main building. They had a grocery store there and I would buy food and purge. Every day. I didn't tell anyone, of course, because I didn't want to lose this option to calm myself down and I didn't want to disappoint anyone- staff, my mom... I had individual psychotherapy twice a week and I had group therapy twice a week. Once a week we had a session focused on relaxation techniques and a group with the nurses where we went over anxiety and how to handle it. We also had a creative group, ergo-therapy and I also had physical therapy (massages and light exercises).

Therapy helped some, definitely, but I was manipulating with food too much. Once I was in a regime that I could leave the hospital from 3pm until 5:30pm I would do so. I would go to the mall and eat and purge. Looking back at it, it was terrible and awful and I was harming myself more than trying to get better. I was discharged on March the 12th and on March 13th the border between Slovakia and Austria closed due to COVID 19 pandemic and I lost access to aftercare in Vienna. I was supposed to have sessions with my therapist from the hospital twice a week and check ups with the chief of the Unit professor Berger once in two weeks. Ideally, I was supposed to be admitted to the ED Unit in Slovakia that couldn't take me with my 29 kilos, but they weren't admitting new patients due to the corona restrictions. Suddenly I was left alone. Left alone with my guilt, left alone with my feelings. In two months I ended up almost where I started. I ran away from my mom's to my place, drank to forget. Drank to sleep. Drank in order not to eat. I was 32 kilos when my mom came and got me. After about three day of staying in her place I packed my bag and decided that I wanted to go to a hospital. So we went to have me admitted, only they wouldn't. I called my psychiatrist in Slovakia who told me that the psychosomatic clinic was admitting patients again and that I could go there. So I went and here I am now. I weighed 33.6kg last Monday. I will be weighed again on Monday. I have been eating, but I have been purging. It's horrible. I can't stop and I want to shout from the top of my lungs that I need help! Except first I need to WANT to gain weight, which I don't. I am terrified of it. I hate myself so much for being so disgustingly annoying and stubborn. I can't make my sick anorexic head to change my mind. Losing weight is the only thing that matters to me and I am hopeless and helpless in changing it. My grey matter in my brain has shrunken so much that I am unable to think rationally. Or I should say that I can, but the anorexic voice is hundred times louder than the pragmatic one. I.NEED.HELP.