Do you know what it’s like to be told your electrolytes are so critically low that you should be admitted due to the risk of cardiac arrest, and then walk out of the hospital not even an hour later as if that conversation never happened?
Rational Becca would never do that. The part of me that wants to live knows I should have listened to the doctors last night, as I now lay in bed still feeling miserable. But that part of me isn’t in control right now. The eating disorder is. The eating disorder says the doctor and nurses were being dramatic, that they don’t know what they’re talking about, that they don’t know what my body can really handle – and that it can handle this. So despite a small inner voice screaming to be heard over the disorder, all I said was that I’d be fine, changed back into my clothes, and left.
I’m not proud of this version of myself. I hate her, actually. And I’m scared to death. Scared that I won’t be able to separate who I really am with this fucking disorder in time to save myself. I mean, who gets told that if they don’t stop what they’re doing to themselves immediately that they could die – they literally said it to me that bluntly – and chooses to ignore it?!
I think this is the worst it’s ever been. Worse than when I did inpatient 7 years ago, and worse than when I did inpatient over the summer. I’m almost two weeks into my initial 2-3 week wait time for an inpatient bed, but I was told yesterday that it will still be another 2-3 weeks, so who knows when I’ll actually get to go. The more time that passes, the more tired I become, and the more I start to wonder if fighting for this better life everyone else talks about is even worth it anymore.
But I don’t think I’m going to give up just yet. This morning, I watched a live stream of the funeral for a friend’s brother who died as a result of his addiction. I am in no way saying that having an eating disorder is the same thing as having a drug addiction, but today I got a small glimpse of how much his death has devastated his family. My heart broke for his mom as she spoke so frankly about his battle and how much she missed him. I honestly don’t know if this fight is worth it anymore, but I also don’t want my mom to have to make the same speech about me at my funeral.
So I guess for today, I will keep trying. But if that bed could open up sooner rather than later, that’d be great. Never thought I’d say that.
