Tough Times

So I haven't updated on here in a while. I have been trying to gather my thoughts for a couple of days and it got me nowhere, really. I have been thinking about this whole inpatient situation- I am not really into it. I am tired and extremely unhappy regarding what my life looks like, but thinking about having to gain so much weight is really distressing. Yesterday, which was Monday June 8th I weighed 32.2 kilos. Today, Tuesday June 9th it is 0.5kg more.

I have eaten yesterday without restrictions, but I have had thoughts to purge constantly. I am being advised to stay and focus on the 'here and now', but it is proving to be too much for me to handle. My thoughts in the present are all about weight, weight gain and food that it completely puts a shadow over anything else I should be thinking about. I can't focus on doing crafts, I can't focus on reading, I can't focus on anything. Everything is about food. I am exhausted. I want to run away from it all.

Since I want to run away from here I have been rethinking about why I wanted to come here in the first place. I wanted to run away from myself. I wanted to run away from the situation I put myself into before coming here, which was drastic weight loss, depressing thoughts and discomfort that came along with it. I couldn't bare to stay in that situation, because I couldn't bare staying in the present.

Today I went for a smoke at the nurse's station and they completely forgot about me. For about 45 minutes I sat on the balcony and cried my eyes out. I realized, however, that I didn't even want to go home. I didn't even really want to leave here, but I wanted to leave this body. Escape these terrible thoughts. Escape having to be trapped in this constricted body that I have imagined for myself. My mind is telling me to lose weight, my body has given up and I am afraid that shortly but surely my motivation to get better will be gone.

I don't care about what the staff thinks anymore. I don't care that my mom doesn't want a daughter like this, I don't care that I am hurting myself. What I do care about is what the number on scale will be tomorrow, given that I will be weighed. I think I will be. I think they want to weigh me every single day now to see what happens with my weight as they watch me as an eagle. It's kind of funny that during the times when the staff isn't supposed to take their eyes off of me they left me stranded on the balcony.

I was literally crying for help and no one came. It really translated well into what my life feels and looks like right now. Me losing weight knowingly at the clinic means that I am trying to get someone's attention like a small child trying to get a new toy. Acting out, being unreasonable and pathetic. I would like to act according to my real age, but my anorexia speaks for me. It talks to the outside world like a coddled, rotten child that wants everything without true reasoning. I want to go home. I want to eat food, lots of food and then I want to throw it up, I want to cry, I want to scream and the shell of a body that I am left with is becoming useless. My rational side no longer accepts the premise that if I won't eat and keep the food down, my anorexic mind will completely take over and it will almost mean a GAME OVER for me. I already feel like a puppet that's being played with haphazardly. I have no instructions, I have no manual, but I still have that little spark in me that wants to fight and I need all the help that I can get to make that spark ignite a fire withing me. All the stupid Instagram likes make me wanna fight. All the messages from people keep me going. I want the world to hear my story, because when they do it feels as though my cries for help have been heard and that I am not alone. I feel so alone. SO, so much alone.