But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Inpatient News, Self Harm, & Arguements I finally dragged myself out of bed around 10:00am. I didn't even stay up late last night. I felt as if a black hole was sucking me down, and I had to fight to pull myself up. My one motivation, the scale. I stumble into the bathroom, pee, take all my clothes off, and step on. 94 pounds. Yes. I am back to losing weight. Yesterday was another awful day. My brother screamed at me, and I yelled back through tears. He is such a liar. The things he says are to get on my mom's good side. He screams at me, "I am so mad at you because I am afraid that you are going to die!" Like he cares. He even told me before he would be much happier without me around. I went into my room crying and picked up my lighter. It has been such a long time since I self harmed. I burned my arm. The pain of fire set tingles up my nerves. I instantly felt better and quit crying. Just as I was about to burn my ankle my mom comes in. She tells me that I am crazy, that I am sick, that I need to go to the hospital. Everything is my fault. "Please get out of my room." I plead through tears. I took two Metabolife. Who cares about my heart? Later I could barely breathe, I was shaking, and my heart was flying. "At least they are working," I tell myself. I fall into a deep sleep, only interrupted my my insatiable thirst brought on by high blood sugar. Around 4:00am I begin to feel shaky. My vision dims, I am nauseated, and can't walk in a straight line. I decide to allow myself two units. I fall back into my nightmares, hoping that tomorrow I will have more self-control. I got a call from Center for Discovery today. They said they would work very hard to let me in, but I have to try and not get any sicker, or lose any more weight. I am on the verge of being an acute care patient, according to my doctors, and they can't accept that. I promise to try. This is my last chance. The problem is I want to lose more weight before I go. I don't want to be the "fat one." The one they whisper about and ask, "What's wrong with her? She seems fine to me." I had to go through that at Rogers after already being inpatient for five months and then sent off there at 123 pounds, to "make sure you are completely better." What a success that was. It hurt being there. It made me worse. Hopefully I can do it this time. I am running out of chances. No one wants to take a chronic. Take care everyone. Thank you everyone who signs my guestbook. You are all so sweet. xoxo Gwen 3:42 p.m. - 2003-02-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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