The good, the bad, the ugly

Saturday I felt exhausted and shaky. It took pretty much all of my energy just to stand. I knew that I was very dehydrated. I went to the er expecting to be given an IV and hopefully sent home. I also wanted librium, so I wouldn't have to drink at my parents house.

They ended up admitting me for dehydration and low potassium. The next day I asked to go home and the doctor said no and mentioned my thyroid being off, and I explained I wasn't taking my meds. I called my mom all upset that he was keeping me over that and we got in a big argument over how I always go to hospital and then try to back out.

Later I broke down sobbing when the nurse changed the IV bag and she asked why. I tried to explain that I had never wanted to be admitted and now I was staying another night. She explained how dangerously low my potassium was (the doctor never told me the number). I also explained that I hadn't slept in two days. She said she would get me ativan which I explained doesn't help.

It's just that the whole experience was humiliating. Nurses kept commenting on scars and spots I picked at. I had to wear a gown which kept coming untied and left my lower legs exposed. At one point the tech had to replace the leads for my heart monitor and rather than being discreet just pulled down the whole front of my gown. I cried while she did it. I eventually slept because they gave me Ativan, Seroquel, and librium.

The bad is that I am home and both drinking and taking the librium. Benzos and vodka shouldn't be mixed.

The good is I actually spoke on the phone with the rehab I should be going to as soon as I get some insurance stuff sorted. It's not the one originally planned. It's only 5 hours away and covered by insurance. My therapist says she's referred clients there with success. They do work on depression as well as alcoholism. It's30-45 days. It sounds very nice. I just didn't want to count on my therapist making a special deal with the other facilities or having to fly. So hopefully I will be going within a week or two. I was pretty impressed that I managed to ask so many questions on the phone.

Sleepless nights

So the first day at my parents house was largely me crying on the couch. I smuggled vodka in my bad and hid it in a closet because I knew I would go into withdrawal otherwise. Of course I drank at night in bed, but I also vomited 3 or 4 times plus several times over the previous days. So Saturday I was almost too weak to stand and walk. I managed to go grocery shopping and drink a smoothie, but it was really obvious that I was dehydrated. I finally told my parents I needed to get to the ER.

My hands were shaking so hard the nurse had to help me tie the gown. I was put on saline and a banana bag plus ativan. They did an ekg and chest X-ray and labs and another liver ultrasound. Finally at around midnight they say they were admitting me. I declined psych referral, so I am in a medical ward hooked up to an iv pump and heart monitor. Still haven't seen the doctor, but the nurse is nice. They didn't order my Seroquel, so another night with zero sleep. But I have my phone and the TV.

Seriously hope my labs are better and they will just send me home tonight with librium and potassium. Then I can make it at my parents house for a few days while the rest of my fate is decided

Fired

So I just lost my job, so rehab probably won't happen. I think they knew how badly I am doing because they apparently called my parents before even telling me. I only know because I called them asking to come over and my dad said he already knew and was going to pick up my mom and then come get me and the cats. I don't know what I am going to do. My dad said he would come get us and we will figure things out, so the cats are in carriers and I packed some clothes. I am not going to lie. I also packed the vodka I just bought because unless the plan is hospital, I legitimately need it. Both my cats decided to hide under the bed, so I had to fish them out despite the boss having to hold doors for me because I barely have strength to open them. When she walked me out she said to take care of myself. I wanted to say I'd probably be dead in a few days, but that probably wouldn't end well. Instead I just left. I first called my parents house and then my mom's phone and then my dad who answered. That's when I found out he knew, which I honestly think was so unprofessional of them. If they were that worried, at least let me call before leaving and not call before even telling me. I went home and packed some clothes and drank some vodka. I haven't really processed this. I am trying just not to do anything stupid (besides the vodka) before my parents get here. I did text my therapist and a friend. I haven't heard back from my therapist yet. I have a coworker who is leaving soon and they were collecting money for a goodbye gift, so as I was walked out I gave the boss the money for it because it seemed the right thing to do. I asked her to give it to the supervisor for me. I did enjoy my time at the company, and I appreciate what I learned. I will try not to turn this into an excuse to die. I have been unemployed before although I was pretty happy to be fired from that he'll. This is so much more awkward because I had friends here. Like I said. I am choosing not to think until my parents are here. I imagine that I will cry a lot. I am just not thinking until I am somewhere safe.

Rehab?

So my therapist is really pushing me to look into going to a residential treatment program. I told her how hopeless it all seems. I mentioned how sick I have been. I threw up three times at work Tuesday and again walking to my car. Tonight I threw up in my parent's driveway because I am just too stupid to understand that I can no longer expect to make it home before I get sick. I have zero energy because I am living off vodka and pedialyte basically.

I am considering it. There's 2 places she is recommending. One is in Texas but it's a minimum of 45 days and then the person she knows that works there mentioned their center in Florida which is 30 days. It is not in network for my insurance but he told her if my out of network benefits would pay, he would treat it like it was in network. She is trying to get me a scholarship to cover any cost. I just don't know if I can get the time off work. I have no pto left but I still have some medical leave. I don't know how much or how understanding they will be since I have taken so much already. I would rather go somewhere closer, but she had a good point that I only really made progress on the bulimia when I went away to residential and that was in another state. I did rehab once but that facility was really a waste of time. Therapy was mostly lectures. They didn't even have a psychiatrist, and they were aware that I purged every meal and only recommended I sit with other patients after meals. So yeah, not going back there.

The other option is another detox, but my last couple attempts at psych wards have been borderline traumatic because of incompetent staff and scary patients. Plus obviously, it didn't work. I just got worse when I went home.

So it's something to think about. I would need to discuss it with work because a big factor is knowing that I will have a job when I get out. In the meantime, I am just trying to survive. I still am reciting Hamlet in my head. Tonight's appropriate lines "Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er the pale cast of thought" because thought is definitely not my friend. I probably just need to just go. That's how it pretty much worked when I went to Remuda. I just called and set up the intake and a few weeks later was on a plane to Arizona.

I did actually talk a little to my parents about it. That was awkward. I had told them my stomach was upset because I knew I couldn't eat much at dinner. Then I mostly just said that my therapist was looking at rehab.

On top of everything else

So I am having pretty much the worst day.

If you read my last post, you will know that I am really struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts. So I really did not fucking need this.

I get to work and am told that people on more than 10% qc are no longer allowed to close reruns. The manager then says that because of some errors on my qc cases I am back to 100%. So I am basically useless. She says that while giving me one of her soul piercing stares because I am trying to hold back tears and curled up in my chair. She says that I need to not take this as a negative thing (like how? WTF?). She asks if I am OK and I mumble something about having not been doing well.

I go about what work I can do. My supervisor offers to send me home because really I can't do anything without anyone checking it, so everything I do is pointless. I try to tell her I feel useless and leave after some crying.

Now it feels like the one thing in my life that I was doing OK at is gone, and I am trying so hard to see a point in living. I went to Walmart and bought popsicles and razor blades, but I haven't used them. I am currently drinking in bed. I don't know tomorrow if I should tell the manager more about what is going on because I know if I am fully honest with anyone they will think I need to be in hospital. I probably do, but it seems pointless. The last few stays just made things worse. I don't want to worry them, but people should worry? Because I don't see any way out of this. I truly believe if I lose this job I will kill myself. I don't know how much longer I can keep functioning. My life is in shambles. I just want out. I just want to be someone else. For now, I am drinking and trying not to think. I didn't need this. I don't know how long I can pretend to function. I don't know how to tell them how bad it has gotten. I don't even know how to comprehend how bad it has gotten. I only apparently know how to drink and sleep.

Words of encouragement or advice are welcome. I am failing at life.

Please read

Guys, I don't think I am hiding this breakdown well. I hate to be "that" person, but if anyone reads this I need some encouragement.

I am feeling so hopeless, and I don't think I am hiding it well. I got to work and am not sure how many people I talked to, but I looked in the mirror and realized I had a smear of dried blood on my nose from where I had picked at a spot. No one said anything, so thank god I looked. Then later at dinner time I was sitting sadly and eating popcorn because I was nauseous and nothing else sounded good. One of the lab techs was leaving and said goodbye. Then she paused and asked how I was doing and if everything was ok. I hardly see or talk to her, so I feel I must look like shit for her to ask. I just said I was tired and it had been a long week. Then after she left, I started crying while eating my damn popcorn.

I am such a mess. It all feels so hopeless. I threw up at work tonight and had chest pains. I really feel like I might kill myself, but I am trying not to. I almost called my mom just to hear her voice. I ended up texting a friend. I just don't know how to dig my way out of this hole. I don't see a hope of future. I am just going through the motions. I have to work tomorrow and am debating calling in sick because I don't know how much longer I can pretend to be a functional human being. I can't even check my email or voicemail. This really feels like a breakdown, but I don't know what to do. Hospital never seems to help. I considered asking to stay with my parents for a few days. I am still considering it. I need some reminder that I am wanted in this world. Currently, I am relying on my cats. I need someone to help me sort out my life. I am honestly considering asking my mom to pretend to be me and make some phone calls to sort out bills because I am too scared to talk on the phone. I just can't even do basic things anymore, and I am ashamed to admit how bad it is. I don't even know where to start.

So I am starting with this. If you have any words of encouragement, I need them. If you have any advice, I need it. Because I can't keep this up much longer. I am so tired and hopeless. I am not actively suicidal, but I don't really see any other way for this to end and don't know what to do. I hate to be that person seeking attention, but I am so tired and so scared and don't know how it got so bad.

Off days

I am struggling. I feel my posts are becoming redundant, but I don't know where else to say this.

I felt almost targeted in the meeting at work today. The supervisors talked about coming to them if we have a bad day or something going on that is affecting our speed. They said we should talk to them so if someone questions our metrics they know why we might be slow. I then spent the night debating talking to mine because I am just not doing well.

I am suicidal, but I don't want to go to hospital. I am not handling life. I don't check my email or voicemail. I need to call my insurance over a claim that wasn't paid. I have debt collectors calling over some hospital bill I can afford to pay but just can't bring myself to talk on the phone. I am basically failing at functioning.

Wednesday I had planned to go to lunch and target and the pet store. I only managed lunch and then went home and slept most of the day. I did manage to go to therapy Thursday and stopped at Whole Foods. My parents were out of town mother's Day, so I bought belated gifts. I managed the scary task of going to the bakery and asking for some mini cheesecakes. The man was actually super nice and gave me an extra for free. I also bought her a plant that she really liked. I had intended on flowers, but a plant lasts longer. The cashier seemed to be glaring at me, but I survived the whole thing. I feel very pathetic for how hard simple tasks have become. Like I planned for 2 or 3 days to buy groceries but simply couldn't. I did laundry yesterday, and it is still in my car because I don't know if I have enough energy to carry it.

Why do I even bother living if I can't buy groceries or carry my laundry? What is the point? I try to fix my thoughts on my parents and my cats. I have always been afraid that my cats might end up in a shelter if I die. I doubt my parents would do that, but there is still fear. I would hate for them to die because no one adopted them and that's how shelters are. I also try so hard to think of my family and how they would have to deal with my death for the rest of their lives. I am really trying to remember it is not about me.

So I am sorry for being repetitive. I am just trying so hard to stay alive.

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all..

I am quickly becoming suicidal again. I am not coping well.

Work was... drama today. I don't do well with drama.

Monday and Tuesday there are less people working. The analyst that works morning has been rather stressed and communicated this to me. Today the assistant supervisor left without doing some tasks he said he would do. After trying to sort this out, she told me about how this person has basically bragged about getting another analyst fired. My supervisor became involved in the discussion, which was basically her fear he might target her if she complains. My supervisor (who should know better) mentions how this person asked while I was on medical leave if I had left. I know this is a fairly benign question, but I am nervous about anything said about me being gone unexpectedly. I am also constantly afraid of being fired because I have seen so many people fired.

So I wasn't able to hide my anxiety well. I have started biting my nails in addition to picking at my face. At some point my supervisor asks if I am OK, and I said yes (while biting my nails). She decided we should talk because obviously I wasn't. I tried to explain that I can't handle drama and gossip. I also don't like the fear that anyone might be targeted for being fired. I hate how the whole atmosphere at this company can become fear. I have gone through this before and I had hoped when she became supervisor it would be better. I am being pressured by her to go to the manager about some things with the other supervisor. I am getting the stress passed on from the analyst on his shift. I am not really able to cope but have been told I need to work on stress management. Another analyst had already asked what was going on because it was apparent something was wrong, and I tried to just say it wasn't important.

My supervisor insisted I talk to the boss. She basically said I need to rise above the gossip, so I felt like an idiot trying to explain things. I made an effort after to joke and be talkative because I felt bad for freaking out, but I really just wanted to sleep or die. I am so afraid that this will get brought up again. I don't do drama. I want work to be the one place I feel successful. I need it not to be more anxiety because I am generally failing at life. Like I am fairly certain that I have a hospital bill that has gone to collections because I can't even check my mail or answer my phone. I am failing at life and I need work to be a place I can forget that because I am good at my job.

I left today incredibly anxious and wanting to cry. I don't know how much more I can handle or how long until I end up in hospital again, but it seems inevitable.

I really am trying. I know I should take my meds, but it all seems hopeless. I try so hard to remind myself that suicide isn't logical. Not existing is not better than existing. I don't 100% believe in heaven, so I may well be choosing not existing. It reminds me of in Hamlet where he says "
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of" and that if I knew what would happen, I would try to kill myself.

So I am struggling. I don't know what to do. Nothing has ever truly worked. I am just trying to stay alive.

Being social

So I am generally doing terribly. I stopped taking my meds and all I want to do is sleep.

But in other news, I have had 3 separate meals with friends. I very nearly cancelled 2, but I had promised my manager at work I was doing this and remembered how excited she was. Like I cried to my therapist and said I couldn't do the dinner yesterday, but I went. I brought books for my friend's children and apparently her 4 year old can read. Her 2 year old has curly hair now and is incredibly talkative. I managed to stay for storytime and putting the kids to bed. It's a little sad how much I missed by locking myself in my apartment, but this is proof I haven't been forgotten. I had brunch with a friend Sunday and lunch Wednesday as well. I got to report to the manager that I had in fact gone through with my plans, and she was very happy. I am done with my performance improvement plan and they say I made progress. I even did a team building game at work, so I am making effort to not lock myself away from the world.

I am not sure I want to be part of the world. I am not sure I want to be alive, but I am trying. That's something at least?

Happy news

You have all probably gathered that my job is basically my life because it is the only thing I am good at. Hopefully, you will understand the significance of this.

I CAN CLOSE CASES AGAIN

My supervisor was telling me and the other analyst what we would be doing today, and I basically said I can't do that because I can't close. She's like I'll talk to you about that. When I ask again about closing, she calls me over to her cubicle. She has my competency test, which we hadn't finished. For the remaining parts, she asked a couple questions and said that I know what I am doing. She asked if I was comfortable closing, and I said of course. The feedback I am getting has been pretty much entirely perfect.

So I got to close cases today, and it was amazing.

Happy news

You have all probably gathered that my job is basically my life because it is the only thing I am good at. Hopefully, you will understand the significance of this.

I CAN CLOSE CASES AGAIN

My supervisor was telling me and the other analyst what we would be doing today, and I basically said I can't do that because I can't close. She's like I'll talk to you about that. When I ask again about closing, she calls me over to her cubicle. She has my competency test, which we hadn't finished. For the remaining parts, she asked a couple questions and said that I know what I am doing. She asked if I was comfortable closing, and I said of course. The feedback I am getting has been pretty much entirely perfect.

So I got to close cases today, and it was amazing.

When are you recovered?

I feel like I rarely discuss my eating disorder here anymore, but I feel like rambling.

So I mentally rehearse conversations pretty frequently. Conversations that might happen. Conversations that will never happen. I imagine all sorts. In these, I sometimes imagine saying I am a "recovered" bulimic. Then sometimes I correct this to I am "recovering" from bulimia.

This came up most recently thinking of how to explain why I need a new psychiatrist. A major reason is that I should not be seeing someone who has repeatedly mentioned prescribing me amphetamines. I don't know why. I don't have ADD. For years I abused diet pills. I have manipulated one doctor to give me Ritalin for fatigue. I have gotten this one to give me Vyvanse for binging. The fact that I have repeatedly told him no when he mentions Adderall says something about my recovery. The fact I voluntarily bought boost supplement drinks to increase my intake because I was struggling to keep down food says something. I was upset this morning that a friend commented on my eating, asking if I didn't like my food. I explained that I eat slowly because I just got over whatever stomach issue landed me in the er for dehydration. She quickly said she wouldn't want to pressure me to eat so quickly I would get sick. This friend has recently been in treatment again for her anorexia.

But in my head, I have a hard time ever calling myself recovered. I feel like once you have an eating disorder, you will always have an eating disorder. I still have disordered habits. I spend a great deal of time on eating disorder websites. I created an instagram account just to follow people with eating disorders.

It's like my thoughts and actions are very different. My behavior says recovery but my mind misses being ill.

I recently spent a great deal of time thinking of binging and purging. I imagined where I would go and what I would eat. I tried to plan the perfect binge knowing it would probably never happen. I imagined purging despite all the time I have recently spent trying to keep more food down.

So I have trouble thinking I have recovered despite not having binged or purged (except after the Tylenol overdose) in a long time. I have trouble believing I am recovered when I try to tell my doctor that amphetamines make me crazy because part of me wants them.

I buy whole milk yogurt in different flavors after years of only eating nonfat vanilla. I eat fruit, which probably doesn't seem as huge as it is. I had a huge fear of fruit and negotiated having a starch instead of fruit for snacks in treatment because fruit has no nutrition labels.

Yet I recently ate dinner at work and had chicken dipped in mustard, and I saw the weird look I got from a coworker. I have an unusual love for mustard and salt. I also realized that the upset stomach I had was likely from the sugar alcohols in the Halo Top ice cream I ate, and still bought another pint. I still drink diet soda except occasionally have regular with my vodka.

This is all just rambling. I just wonder if it is actions or thoughts that make you recovered, and do the thoughts ever really go away? So I guess in my head I would rather say I am recovering because I still have disordered thoughts and actions. I have known "recovered" anorexics who I could tell were in denial, and I don't want to be seen the way I viewed them (not as bad people but just lying to themselves). I would rather believe I am recovering but still need to improve. I don't want to be happy where I am. I do give myself credit for all the actions I take. In the same way I know I have made progress with the depression and with at least accepting I am an alcoholic. I just wonder if it is ever actually gone or if recovery is something that must constantly be maintained. Either way, I am fairly content with where I am. I don't miss the insanity of bulimia. I am insane enough without it. I may fantasize about binges, but I remember frantically trying to find the right combination of food and frantically trying to purge. I like my fruit and fatty yogurts. It is progress and it requires a lot less worry.

Denial and poor choices

So I am mostly trying to avoid thinking about what the doctor said about my liver. I am also at times actively in denial.

My brain's 2 main arguments
1. The ultrasound may have shown fatty liver and possibly cirrhosis, but my billirubin dropped from 4 to 3.1, and I am no longer jaundice. That means my liver is better than when I was last in the hospital. (There is some validity to this)
2. She mainly said fatty liver, which is a benign condition and possibly early cirrhosis

So technically both arguments are true, but they ignore the whole point which is my liver is damaged. It also ignores the fact that I am not taking any steps to prevent making it worse. I am still drinking. I have not made any changes to my diet that are suggested (lower fat and lower salt). I had Taco Bell for lunch and dumped tons of salt and mustard on my chicken at dinner. I am admittedly torn between the need to eat better and just needing to eat. I get sick when I don't. I have lost some weight, which is not bad, but I can tell I mostly lost muscle. I mean healthy people don't leave their laundry in the car for days because they are too weak to carry it up the stairs. I also don't trust myself to walk up stairs without holding the railing ever since the time my legs gave out.

I am making other poor choices. I am not taking my meds. I don't think they were helping. I also am too embarrassed to admit that I am not sure what I am supposed to be taking. I know the 2 antidepressants, but I don't really remember him telling me to stop the wellbutrin or if I am just supposed to be on Seroquel for sleep or also doxepin. I don't think this is entirely my fault. He mostly just talks during appointments rather than focusing on the medicine. He gives me scripts with 5 refills, which given my tendency to not make appointments unless I need Seroquel, is idiotic. I am thinking of finding another doctor. He also keeps trying to give me amphetamines, and I really don't know why. It is amazing of me to continually tell him no. I mean he thinks I am bipolar and he also knows I have bad anxiety. Why on earth would he offer me Adderall? Last time he asked why I stopped the Vyvanse (prescribed for binging), and the answer is that I know I only wanted it so I could eat less. I tell him Ritalin makes me manic and crazy. We have had this discussion several times. I really would love something to give me energy, but I logically know I do not need it. I really need a doctor who listens, who acknowledges all my diagnoses (you don't offer amphetamines to someone recovered from an eating disorder), and who clearly communicates what I am taking and why. I admit some of this is that I have trouble remembering what he says because 1. ECT and alcohol have damaged my memory and 2. I have this tendency to shut down when anxious. My brain shuts off and I only remember bits and pieces.

Also when I explained the situation at work, he asked if I thought they were trying to get rid of me. What doctor fucking suggests that kind of idea to a patient?

Work is.. I don't know. My supervisor finally at least started my competency test. I was incredibly frustrated because she was simultaneously trying to get me to do other things while interrupting me for the test. Like I am supposed to be closing more and she is trying to get me to stop to do other things. Plus, she just did little things that irritated me. Like when I was being tested over exporting data, she kept taking the necessary papers away because she didn't want me to cheat by looking at them. But I can't start exporting properly without those. Previously, I have just been allowed to export a plate like I normally would while explaining what I was doing.

Then just in general I am frustrated. I told her about the liver stuff since I had previously told her I was concerned about it. She said we should talk with the manager there but she was busy. I went back to my desk and she asked if I had talked to the boss since that was supposed to be a daily thing. I said the boss hadn't been in her office and I had basically been waiting to see if she asked to talk to me. I asked if I should go ask her. Well, she was busy. Then both the boss and manager left without saying anything to me. So I don't know if I should tell the manager and basically feel unimportant. I am also unclear as to whether the boss still wants to chat everyday since I had to ask to talk to her and she left without mentioning it. In some ways it is reassuring because I am not being treated like the crazy one, but I also feel like they don't care anymore?

I did finish a full plate today. I am hoping once the competency test is done, they will let me go back to closing. I am bothered that the trainees can see that I am not allowed to close because I worry that they don't see me as experienced. In the middle of the competency test my supervisor said something to a trainee who clearly didn't understand what she was telling her to do. I am not sure what the supervisor thought that I stopped answering the test questions to ask the trainee to come to my computer so I could explain, but I simply could not not explain. I just think they view me as training because I can't close and not as someone with more experience than anyone besides the supervisors (and one person who was hired when I was).

I should go to bed. I am having brunch with a friend in the morning. The first of several planned social activities this week. I am going to do my best not to cancel any of them.

Dehydration

And I got sent to the emergency room because I am dehydrated and orthostatic. Fun times

And

They did an ultrasound and I do have early cirrhosis

Doctors

I don't really remember if I wrote about this and am too lazy to go look. I have been sick for a few days. I am guessing a stomach virus, but I was already having stomach problems.. so who knows. I kept no food down Tuesday. Yesterday I managed a few popsicles.

I love my parents. I was supposed to go to  their house for dinner, but I emailed my mom that basically I couldn't drive that far on so little food and sleep. I kept getting dizzy. I managed to go buy pedialyte and cat food, but I could tell my legs were shaking too much to be driving. I ended up asking if they would come have dinner near me because today they're leaving for vacation and I really wanted to see them. They not only drove what is nearly an hour to have dinner. They offered to drive me to my psychiatrist appointment and to the pharmacy to get my meds. I know I am sometimes critical of my parents, but I do know they honestly care.

My psychiatrist.. not that sure about. He seems to be a genuinely nice person, but he just has this way of occasionally saying really tactless things. The first that bothered me was when he asked if I talk about the cutting on my blog. I really should never mention having a blog (nobody I know in regular life knows the title or anything else) to people because it really is not his business what I write about.

The second was when I was talking about work. He actually asked if I think they're trying to get rid of me. Yes, I have thought that.. but what psychiatrist would say that? He also basically suggested my job is the problem. He said he thinks I need to go back to the hospital. He asked if they did fire me would I qualify for unemployment. Then he told me stories about various people he knew who had liver problems (obviously to scare me). He told me I am very stubborn with a lot of denial. While I do not disagree, it wasn't the best way to say it.

Today I have my GP appointment. I am not looking forward to it. I really am not in denial. I know I have a lot of scary shit going on. I know I should be in the hospital. I know that liver failure is a horrible way to die. So I don't particularly want to go. I also cannot find my discharge folder from the hospital, so I am scared it will be days or weeks before I know how bad it is. I think they may be in my car somewhere. I am really not sure if I want to know because it isn't likely to make getting sober easier. It just means being scared. I am scared. I have started praying again. I bought a rosary bracelet (and on a lighter note had to tell my cat not to eat the virgin Mary because he started chewing on it). I am not unaware of reality. I just don't know how to fix it. Every possible step seems impossible.

I don't know. For now I am going back to sleep. I still am struggling to keep down food. For those of you who have eating disorders, you will understand how significant this is. I bought boost supplement drinks (and not the low calorie ones) because I am legitimately trying to get nutrition. I at least hope I can beg the doctor for something for nausea because I still keep getting dizzy and every part of my body aches. I keep imagining every food I want, but after my failed attempt at a salad last night.. not sure I am brave enough for more than popsicles and pedialyte

I will update about the doctor later

Doctors

I don't really remember if I wrote about this and am too lazy to go look. I have been sick for a few days. I am guessing a stomach virus, but I was already having stomach problems.. so who knows. I kept no food down Tuesday. Yesterday I managed a few popsicles.

I love my parents. I was supposed to go to  their house for dinner, but I emailed my mom that basically I couldn't drive that far on so little food and sleep. I kept getting dizzy. I managed to go buy pedialyte and cat food, but I could tell my legs were shaking too much to be driving. I ended up asking if they would come have dinner near me because today they're leaving for vacation and I really wanted to see them. They not only drove what is nearly an hour to have dinner. They offered to drive me to my psychiatrist appointment and to the pharmacy to get my meds. I know I am sometimes critical of my parents, but I do know they honestly care.

My psychiatrist.. not that sure about. He seems to be a genuinely nice person, but he just has this way of occasionally saying really tactless things. The first that bothered me was when he asked if I talk about the cutting on my blog. I really should never mention having a blog (nobody I know in regular life knows the title or anything else) to people because it really is not his business what I write about.

The second was when I was talking about work. He actually asked if I think they're trying to get rid of me. Yes, I have thought that.. but what psychiatrist would say that? He also basically suggested my job is the problem. He said he thinks I need to go back to the hospital. He asked if they did fire me would I qualify for unemployment. Then he told me stories about various people he knew who had liver problems (obviously to scare me). He told me I am very stubborn with a lot of denial. While I do not disagree, it wasn't the best way to say it.

Today I have my GP appointment. I am not looking forward to it. I really am not in denial. I know I have a lot of scary shit going on. I know I should be in the hospital. I know that liver failure is a horrible way to die. So I don't particularly want to go. I also cannot find my discharge folder from the hospital, so I am scared it will be days or weeks before I know how bad it is. I think they may be in my car somewhere. I am really not sure if I want to know because it isn't likely to make getting sober easier. It just means being scared. I am scared. I have started praying again. I bought a rosary bracelet (and on a lighter note had to tell my cat not to eat the virgin Mary because he started chewing on it). I am not unaware of reality. I just don't know how to fix it. Every possible step seems impossible.

I don't know. For now I am going back to sleep. I still am struggling to keep down food. For those of you who have eating disorders, you will understand how significant this is. I bought boost supplement drinks (and not the low calorie ones) because I am legitimately trying to get nutrition. I at least hope I can beg the doctor for something for nausea because I still keep getting dizzy and every part of my body aches. I keep imagining every food I want, but after my failed attempt at a salad last night.. not sure I am brave enough for more than popsicles and pedialyte

I will update about the doctor later

Good news/ bad news

Good news.. I think I am losing weight

Bad news... I have (unintentionally) thrown up 6 times already today. Twice before work, once at work, and 3 times since going home. This is my second day leaving early this week. Yesterday I started crying talking to the boss and was told to go home and rest. Today I admitted to being insanely nauseous and was told I could leave. That was shortly before I practically ran to the restroom to vomit the milk I had been drinking in an attempt to get some calories. Also after the boss telling me I look rested today.

Good news... I see my GP in 2 days and intend to beg for something for nausea. I also get to have labs done and can find out what state my liver is in.

Bad news... I found my ceramic knife and of course cut my wrist. Not a suicide attempt. I just always think it's a brilliant idea when drunk. I probably should have gotten it looked at, but it seems ok now

Good news... I think I made the manager so happy today by telling her I have plans with 3 friends within the next week. After recently updating her on all the depressing things in my life, I thought she deserved to hear something good. Seriously, she looked so happy when I told her.

I talked to my supervisor too to see if she thinks I am making progress. I have been trying so hard to be more social at work. I have been answering questions and also just trying to talk. She agreed that my work is better but I still need to work on confidence and stress management. But it sounded like I will be off the performance improvement plan soon.

In other news.. a strange thing happened today. I woke up to terrible noises. It sounded like the side of the building was being scraped off. At first it seemed to be near my living room. Then it seemed to be right outside my bedroom. I live on the 2nd floor, so when I looked outside I was not expecting to make eye contact with some guy on a ladder. I quickly shut the curtains because I was not fully clothed. I told this all to a coworker who found it quite funny.

Finally good/bad news. While doing some impulse online shopping (that's the bad part) for books for my friend's children, I decided to share a link with another friend. We posted back and forth on facebook and then I texted her to plan lunch next week. I also bought her a book. I honestly own too many kids books for someone without children. One is Jabberwocky a nonsense primer, which is a board book of the poem. It leaves out the more violent bits with the vorpal sword and chopping off the monster's head. But it has the frabjous day bit that is my favorite. Seriously, look up BabyLit books. The other one I bought is Frankenstein an anatomy primer, which I am quite curious about. So I bought Jabberwocky for 2 friends and already own a copy.. but the random shopping was inspiration to contact my friend. So 3 separate social plans. We will see if I survive.

Mental health day

So I don't really remember if I mentioned, but my boss (vice president of the company who I know from school) decided we should talk before my shift everyday. The explanation being that she doesn't miss anything going on with me (basically that I don't go crazy without her notice).

This is simultaneously very sweet and a horrible idea.  Sweet because she legitimately cares about me. Horrible because of what happened today.

I go to check in with her. I tell her I think I am doing much better at work hoping to avoid explaining anything else. She asked how things were going at home. I am not exactly an honest person, but when asked a direct question I will generally tell the truth. I ended up confessing that I haven't been taking my meds and that I am suicidal. We talked about it. I ended up saying I want to go home and go back to bed because I just couldn't handle work. She told me mondays are generally slow and to go home and she would tell my supervisor. I managed to stop crying enough to leave.

I told the other analyst I was going home because I wasn't feeling well. My supervisor wasn't around, so I told the manager I was leaving. I said the boss would explain and that I wasn't feeling well. From the expression on her face, I think she knows I meant mentally unwell. Honestly, I already looked like crap and with me crying, I probably looked bad. She seemed worried and asked if I had told the boss. I said yes.

As I was leaving, the boss said to go home and take my meds and to drive along the curve in the road. I had admitted to the idea of driving off the road at this particular place (it really is a scary curve) while talking to her. I assured her I would.

I did drive home safely, although I stopped to buy pedialyte and ice cream. I did take my meds but then drank a shot of vodka and vomited... so I don't know if that counts. I will take them tomorrow because I am expected to tell her I did. I have no idea what she said to anyone after I left, but I do generally trust her.

I just imagine this talking to her daily (which was her idea) may not go well. I am generally honest when asked a direct question. Lately, I am also prone to crying. So starting my shift crying in her office would be bad.

I don't know. I promised that I would work tomorrow. I really did need a day to sleep and not deal with things. I honestly barely have enough energy to write this. I am hardly keeping down food. I wake up frequently at night. I probably should not be at work. I am trying not to feel guilty. I bought a frappucino (not even a light!) because I can use the calories. Now I am going to take a nap.