30 days

I am currently on the way home from rehab with my parents. I made it the full 30 days without getting myself kicked out/transferred (barely).

The good is that I am 37 days sober. I am back on meds that theoretically should work. I had 2 counselors.. one for individual and one for group. My individual one I only saw 4 times, so I honestly didn't feel that close to. He was really nice and obviously cared though. The group counselor really seemed to care and worry about me. She would keep me after and give me extra homework. She kept saying she was worried because it seemed like there was a dark cloud over me. They had an awesome person who taught the twelve steps. Like she was a true representation of someone who lives by the principles but still manages to joke and swear a lot. She got me a temporary sponsor, which didn't really work out (not going in to that now)

That's where the bad comes in. My depression started getting worse after about a week there. I started to self harm and feel really hopeless. I would have random crying spells. In one of those, I started entertaining the fantasy of getting a hotel room when I get home and a couple handles of vodka. I made the mistake of mentioning this to my counselor in an attempt to explain how I was having this depression. He asked how that was financially possible. I said the assumption was that I wouldn't survive this.

So yeah.. I got myself put on one to one. I had to meet with a crisis nurse and explain this wasn't a plan. It was just a fantasy. I then had to convince both therapists that it was better to let me finish the program than transfer me to somewhere else. Somehow I managed. I did learn my group counselor had a patient kill himself at the facility, so that explains why she was concerned about me.

I wish I could say it got better. I have spent the last several days crying because I really can't imagine life. There's a part in the big book that says "Some day he won't be able to imagine life with alcohol or without it. Then he will know loneliness such as few do. He will be at the jumping off place. He will wish for the end". I am there. I am desperately clinging to the hope that others have done this. I have been reading the big book constantly. I again had to convince my counselor after group that I wasn't planning to kill myself. I have a tech that came by in the middle of the night a couple days ago (scared me when she woke me) that gave me her number and made me promise to call to tell her I am safe. So I am aware people care. I just don't know how to handle sadness like this without alcohol.

The Plan- Step 2

So this past week was an adventure. Last Tuesday I went to the emergency room. I was there a total of 12 hours. It took around 3 to see a doctor. They gave me IV fluids and Ativan, and I waited to see a social worker. I did the assessment and agreed to go to psych. I waited and waited and eventually a different doctor comes and says they're admitting me to medical because of my labs (which the nurse said were fine but I knew wouldn't be).

So eventually I got admitted at like 2am. Well because it was so late wouldn't give me my Seroquel because the doctor didn't want me to sleep all the next day. So I ended up staying up all night watching TV. Every time I looked jittery or anxious they pushed more Ativan, which is why things got fun.

I forgot that once before I got Ativan for detox and had double vision. This must have been more because I went a bit crazy. I started hearing things. First it was like I was singing songs in my head but made up songs that made no sense. I kept thinking that the back of my bed was an arm around me. I realized that I was hearing things when I thought I heard my therapist outside the room. I checked and nobody was in the hallway. The medical doctor had already said that I would be transferred to psych because of my depression. I just waited hours for a bed. Meanwhile I went through phases of sobbing on my bed and sitting in a chair and constantly looking up because I was sure someone was sitting on the bed.

I finally told my nurse what was going on and she freaked out and told the doctor. They switched me to librium. Eventually I got to psych. I honestly don't remember much of what I said that day. I woke up the next morning and pinched myself a couple times because I couldn't figure out where I was. Eventually I remembered. I slept most of the day.

The rest is the usual psych ward experience. I did call my ex sponsor and asked her about cleaning my apartment. I updated her on where I have been. I talked to another AA friend too.

Long story short, I am out now and headed to rehab. So you will hear from me in a month or so and I will figure out the next step.

Detox again

Therapy with my parents was really hard. I expected that. I guess it went ok? I am not sure I am 100% on board with the plan for me. Everyone but me has decided that I should move out of my apartment as soon as possible. They want me to hire someone to clean and pack and put everything in storage. They are talking about me moving to sober living, and that's the main issue. I have lived alone for 6 years. I didn't have good experiences living with roommates in college. I don't want to move home while I find somewhere. It's not because I don't love my parents, but I am 30 and don't want them to have to take care of me.

Eventually, I think it became obvious that I couldn't handle all of the plan. My mind was so overwhelmed and it all felt impossible. I said that right now I need detox. I can barely climb stairs, I am not physically well enough to handle this. I am not mentally well enough to make a bunch of calls to arrange any of this. I am tired and scared, and I can't deal with the future. I have so many unpaid bills that are most of what's on my mind. I don't know how to act normal anymore. I am barely eating. I am pretty convinced that my potassium is low because I got so dizzy when I stood up earlier. My legs and arms are visibly thinner, but my stomach looks bloated.

So I am only thinking about the first step in the plan. Tomorrow I will go to the ER and admit myself for detox. I am not entirely sure if I will end up in the psych ward or if something is medically wrong. I will do what they tell me.

Then when my brain and body are a little better, I will figure out the rest. I am ignoring the medical bills. I am hoping that one of the people from AA who does cleaning can help with the apartment. I don't care if I have to pay. I just feel they're less likely to judge me for the mess. Still. I am not thinking about it. I am honestly just wanting to get some strength.

The plan is to transfer from the hospital to rehab. I don't know where. The agreement was that residential for the bulimia was the only thing that worked for very long, so logically it should help with alcohol. My issue is that the only time I managed to stay sober for long, I only slept on my sponsor's couch for a couple days and then stayed sober over a year. I have tried rehab twice. Once I went and stayed sober for like a week when I got home. The other I basically tried to kill myself. So I don't know what my best option is.

I also learned more about what happened with Dove Tree. Apparently they told my parents that they thought I was trying to manipulate them into something, probably getting kicked out of treatment. They told them I needed a higher level of care and implies I wasn't welcome back. I was told something very different. I was told that transferring to the crisis facility would make it more likely that I could come back. I was told I would have to meet with the treatment team. I admitted that I thought being suicidal was probably about wanting to get out and drink. It can't be that uncommon for someone to become severely depressed or suicidal when their main coping skill is suddenly removed. I was honest about it. They never bothered to be honest with me. My therapist is now trying to get what my mom paid (because I didn't have my debit card) refunded because of how unethical the way I was treated was. I was honestly planning to do it because I paid up front for what insurance wouldn't cover, and I doubt I was there long enough to owe anything.

I am not unwilling to go to treatment. I just can't handle the idea right now. My therapist was very good about saying this was not my fault. I didn't choose alcoholism or depression. It is good that I want treatment.

Dinner with my parents was a little awkward. I had barely eaten all day and was hungry, but after the appetizer I had no appetite. I ordered a veggie burger and after awkwardly taking bites, my mom finally told me not to eat if I didn't want to. She said if I haven't been eating, it was going to be hard to keep down. She had commented on grocery shopping with me to my therapist, so I guess she understands that I haven't been eating. I don't know if she understands that it isn't the eating disorder. I physically can't eat. I am planning to do what the doctors want in detox except that I swear to make them give me something for nausea because I don't want to spend tomorrow puking.

So tomorrow I will go to the hospital. I packed a bag. I just have to take the cats to my parents and then they will take me to the emergency room. Then when I am no longer focused on feeling like shit, I will decide the rest.

Checking the mail

I managed my main goal for today. I went to lunch with my friend. I took out a bag of trash. I checked my mail.

It was about as bad as expected (the mail). Collection notices, bills, and a lot of junk. The only good things were one thing saying that I overpaid a hospital, and they were crediting back $100 and something from the IRS saying I owe $0.00.. I didn't think I owed them, so that was odd. I think I didn't respond to some letter a while back saying they were looking to see if I did after I sent a check for something that they claimed I made a mistake on. Still, I get occasional fraud calls claiming to be the IRS, so I panicked at seeing the envelope. Tomorrow I will try to deal with the bill situation. Highest priority is one hospital that sent me a $10,000 bill that I have to contact my insurance about and ask what the hell that's about. I had a moment of clarity last night that sometime during the ECT treatments (where my memory is fuzzy) someone said something about insurance claiming I did TMS. I said that I didn't. My asshole psychiatrist made me see the TMS person to see if insurance would authorize it, and then I never did it because I couldn't afford the out of pocket cost. So it might be that or might be if the hospital tried to bill the insurance before COBRA kicked in, which means that they would have been told I had no insurance. The treatment date is from March, when I definitely did, so it may just be confusion. I also need to check my bank balance to see what I can pay (mainly rent and electric) and I think in therapy discuss if my parents can help with money.

Lunch was pleasant. She hopes I can get help. She was understanding about my situation although not happy about the stuff like me cancelling my psychiatrist appointment last week, but I knew that wasn't rational. She laughed at my random thought yesterday that I should join the army but realizing there is no way in hell they would take someone as crazy as me.

I really struggled to eat. It wasn't just the food. It was like I was struggling at the idea of using a fork. The food I struggled with too. The toast was too buttery and the taste was too much. The eggs.. well I honestly always have been weird about eggs. Like I can only eat scrambled and only if cooked a certain way. I ate sausage. I have been eating vegetarian for a couple months except one trip to McDonald's. It honestly sounded good but somehow eating it was unpleasant. I guess I am staying vegetarian. I just feel weird making substitutions (the meal came with sausage or bacon) or not finishing meals in front of my friend who is a recovering anorexic. She seems to be doing well now but has generally in the past been hard to watch at meals. I remember once days before going inpatient she ate an apple dipped in salt. It was always an unspoken rule that when we ate together (me, her, and at the time two other people from support groups) we ate normally. I had a falling out with one woman when she wanted to do dinner but skip the support group (another taboo), and another woman once couldn't stay because my friend was upset that she said she had already eaten. I am only still friends with one, and I try to respect that my eating could be triggering. In the end, I managed half my meal because between the fork, the toast, and my exhaustion.. it was too much. I am honestly happy that I wasn't fond of the sausages because really do have an objection to eating meat. No offense to those who do, but I struggle with the idea that eating a pig is so different from eating one of my cats. I have struggled with the idea for a long time. It was only because my stomach was so screwed up and that I couldn't cook but had to eat, that I lived for a while eating only fast food. That made it hard to eat vegetarian.

On the topic of cats. Last night I heard Odd crying (if you've been around cats you know the meow that means something is wrong). I went and checked he looked fine. I went back to my bedroom and heard it again. I went to check again and Nermal had a plastic bag stuck on her head and Odd was standing there crying. It was really funny. I took off the bag and told them they were OK. Odd followed me to my bedroom and I gave him pets and told him it was ok. I have honestly never had cats that got along this well. Like he stands guard while she eats at my parents house. His name is really Odd Thomas and my mom calls him Thomas, but I have always found Odd more fitting.

To go or not to go

I have been feeling particularly unwell this week. I am used to being tired if I am too lazy to take my levothyroxine or spending so much time in bed. I am used to tremors. However, I have started having chest pains (very mild) and abdominal pain. Both stop when I am drunk and really just happen if I get out of bed and walk much. I don't know if it's the alcohol or poor diet or if I am simply a hypochondriac. I know I haven't been eating much protein and look like I lost muscle/weight. The abdominal pain could be my liver or just *tmi* constipation. The chest pain could be heart related or my imagination. I have had this kind of exhaustion and weakness before and had my potassium be low, but that was when I was vomiting a lot. I have had similar symptoms when I was not drinking but heavily restricting back in my eating disorder days.

I know no one can tell me what to do. I am just trying to work out if I can fix this with food and maybe pedialyte, or I actually have prescription potassium somewhere that I never took. I am trying to decide if I wait and see and avoid even more medical bills, or do I go to the ER. I hate the ER, and I owe money to most local hospitals. I also hate being trapped in bed and poked with a bunch of needles and asked all the stupid questions. I had a particularly bad time last time when in the middle of the night after days without sleep when the nurses decided to change the leads for my heart monitor and just basically undid my hospital gown and had my whole chest exposed and I just cried and nobody commented on me laying there crying or made any hurry to cover me up (I am very uncomfortable with people seeing scars and particularly how I pick at my chest). Plus I have therapy Monday and may well be back in treatment soon. I am honestly not that concerned with dying, but somehow I still worry. I don't like having no control. I don't like how weak I am. I don't like being visibly unwell.

So I don't know what to do. I have been eating more but for some reason sleeping less. I am trying to still rest. I am unfortunately drinking more.. more than 1.75L in 2 days because my response to sleeping less is to try to drink myself back to sleep.

I did manage to leave the apartment today. I had lunch and saw a movie with my family. I was exhausted and shaky and sweaty by the time the movie was over, so I didn't stay for dinner. I could tell my dad was worried, but I needed to get to the liquor store and couldn't risk being too late. I know need is relative there, but liquor stores close Sunday so I couldn't wait until tomorrow. I get sick enough only being sober during the day.

I did not manage to check my mail or email. I didn't pay any bills. Tomorrow my goal is to check my mail and have lunch with a friend. It might be awkward because I told her I would write her in rehab and then eventually texted to explain what happened because I didn't want her to worry that I hadn't. She was grateful to hear from me and was worried. I know her from eating disorder support groups, so she is more understanding than most about mental illness. I have visited her in treatment and written or called when I was. I just still hate admitting relapse. I am still going to go. Wish me luck.

Awkward night with my parents

So I don't remember what I said about how earlier this week I admitted via text that I was struggling. I did, so I knew that I needed to explain tonight.

But OK let me explain exactly as awkward it went. I got there and when they got home kept waiting for them to ask. I just don't know how to do that without being asked. We made small talk. We talked about restaurants and I brought up how my car air conditioning has been acting weird (like only blowing warm air when stopped). I really wasn't feeling well. I spent the morning in bed and hadn't eaten very much. We finally pick a place for dinner.

We got there and were the only customers in the restaurant. That means you always get watched by the staff, which makes both me and my mom anxious. I order and because I am trying to be vegetarian again, I ordered something with tofu. I am the unlucky vegetarian who has texture issues with tofu. Soft tofu makes me nauseous. I can eat it if it's fried and firm. This unfortunately ended up being really gross to me. While I am trying to eat it to look normal in front of my parents and not say I didn't like it in front of the employees who were all looking. I finally give up and try to pick out vegetables and noodles and indirectly say the tofu wasn't good. I do this while awkwardly talking about how I am doing. I admitted to not leaving the apartment and not eating anything but granola bars and popsicles. I talked about my therapist wanting to talk to them. I didn't actually say it's because she feels ethically obligated to tell them I am drinking myself to death. I mentioned treatment and we briefly talked about what happened with rehab and how none of us really was told anything at all. I am glad they did seem to agree about how they were wrong to just drop off my suitcase and not explain.

My mom did say some understanding things, which were basically that I have to set a time to get out of bed and get dressed everyday. That she knows it is easy to want to sleep all day otherwise. I also asked them to take me grocery shopping because I am really struggling with being in public. Well, I asked before the food really made me feel sick, but I went because I really have been struggling with it.

We get there, and I have no idea what to buy. It has been so long since I ate normally. She kept asking me things and saying I need protein and she doesn't want me eating the same thing every meal. Repetition is comfortable to me, although I know I should be eating better. I finally ended up with powerade, cereal, granola bars, mini bagels (which are admittedly an eating disorder food that I lived on in college), and some frozen meals. Now we will just see if I can actually eat these or the food will just remain unopened. I do wonder if my unbalanced diet has been causing my weakness and exhaustion.

The main highlight of the evening is that my car seems to be fine now? I have no idea how or what was wrong. I just know that it has been hot as hell here lately, so I really didn't want to end up with no AC. Just hoping it stays that way because I probably can't afford repairs

Seriously scared

So I really don't know what's going on. I am not able to drink enough to sleep. I am not able to be sober enough to function. I don't remember telling my parents I would come over today, but I got a text at 5ish asking if I was coming. I didn't know what to say. I only said that I wasn't doing well and not able to function. He said they wanted to have me there because they couldn't do much with me here. That was about how honest I could be. I said that I couldn't remember that I was going anywhere today. I would come Thursday and try to explain. I tried to word the texts to give the impression I am very sorry and just not functioning. I said in my last post that my therapist was going to call if I didn't say I was basically drinking myself to death. I may have to tell them Thursday because I don't know how else to explain that I honestly don't remember saying I would be there tonight. I said I didn't remember I was leaving my apartment today. I think my messages were vague but enough to imply that I am not well. My dad said they understand, which gives the idea they know that I am unwell. I think neither of us know what to do, so I think I have to discuss this before I have therapy. That's terrifying, but so is laying in bed drunk because I am not sober enough to function but not drunk enough to sleep.