Wow, what a morning! How am I feeling? Mad, Sad, Anxious
Why? Well, I’ll talk about mad first. I ordered cottage cheese for breakfast (apparently) and instead of the small cup that I normally get, I had a giant fucking bowl of the stuff. I don’t really like cottage cheese that much and it took the majority of breakfast time to eat it. It sucks for 2 reason: 1) I normally try to finish my meal and then I have 10-15 minutes to sit back and relax and enjoy my coffee and I try to drink all my water. Coffee is one of the few treats that we get here and it’s kind of a big deal. We only get ONE cup per DAY, so it’s something that nearly everyone here savors. 2) I feel tricked. Courtney had said no new meal plan increases until next week, at the earliest. This was clearly a lie. How am I ever supposed to trust my team if they keep doing things behind my back and without my consent. It’s so frustrating. I want to trust Courtney, I really do, but it’s nearly impossible when changes are made. And this was a big increase. Now my stomach hurts and ohh, btw, I tolerate cottage cheese. I don’t like it that much. I work in science and everyone always refers to infection as “cottage cheese”, so I feel like I’ve seen too much and know too much.
I’m Sad. Why? I think we’ve talked about it enough. There is change coming tomorrow and I don’t want to deal with it. I hate change. Fuck, I’ve ranted about this for days. But it just seems like all my favorite things in life are changing so rapidly. I’m grateful for what I do have. My mother (it’s mother’s day btw). I’m grateful for the people in our unit. We’re a pretty close knit group. Oh, and we have 4 new admits tomorrow and our unit is full, so we’re concerned (as a group) that they’ll split our unit. That would be super fucked up, considering we’ve all been here together for so long now. Ouch. That’s going to destroy me. Please don’t take my friends. Geez. It’s bad enough that Polly is leaving. Too much change, too quickly. Fuck me. But, adaptability has always been one of my core values. I will never give up. Remember?
I’m anxious. Since my breakfast meal plan was ramped up, what can I expect for the rest of the day? I have no idea. My anxiety doesn’t usually kick in until after lunch, or at least after AM snack. But now I have legitimate meal anxiety and it’s beyond my control. And the super deluxe ultra fucked up thing is that I can’t even talk to Courtney about until tomorrow (or Tuesday, or Wednesday) whenever she gets around to me. I don’t feel ultra high on the priority list. I think this is her way of forcing me into phase II. I definitely don’t feel ready, yet. But, I’m getting close. It would be nice to make it to phase II before all my peer group leaves. I am finishing most meals, even when it’s gross and I don’t want to. Positive self-talk, “remember your values.” My value is perseverance today. And adaptability. These are natural to me. I’ve always been strong willed and determined. I’m always under estimated.
Okay, now let’s talk Lindsey, because there’s so much to share. Let’s start with her walking around Spa Aaaaah with that grilled cheese between her thighs, just hanging out. Like, what the actual fuck? Do you see any other girls around here walking around with their junk out? No body wants to see that, girl, shit, come on. But it gets even better. She walks over to the mirror counter where we set our bins while we get ready. She grabs a bottle of mouthwash out of Rachel’s bin and drinks the whole goddamn bottle. Then she steals Rachel’s shower time. Rachel kicks her out, so she steals Rose’s instead. When Rose asks her to get out, she says, “No”. Ok, bitch, you know how the shower times work, because I fucking told you about it 2 days ago, when you signed up for 3 different spots. Seriously, fuck off with the playing dumb shit. Then she walks over to Ella’s bin and steals her leave-in conditioner AND PUTS IT IN HER OWN BIN. Like just straight up steals it. Ella comes out of spa, just like, WHAT THE FUCK? Who the fuck is this person. It’s weird, because other than my missing shampoo that reappeared a few days later, we don’t really worry about stealing around here. Everyone leaves their stuff lying around, and it’s an unspoken rule, you don’t touch other people’s stuff. Generally speaking, everyone on the unit is really cool. So, having a thief among us really fucking sucks. Now I feel like I have to watch all my stuff all the time. Especially bathroom stuff. If she’ll steal Ella’s stuff right in front of her, what won’t she steal? Such fucking bullshit. Now, it’s a game of wait and see what happens. Kristen, our delightful, but very strict BHT is on the case and going to hopefully take care of it for us. I like Kristen, she’s bubbly happy and very encouraging. But she does enforce most of the rules. At least we know where we stand with her though. But for someone like Lindsey that is super entitled and bitchy, it’s not going to go over well.
The anxiety is building, like a snowball rolling down a hill. It’s gathering its strength and going to crush me by lunch time. I’m so tired of anxiety. I’ve never been like this. Well, not until Danielle started flying out to see her BF in Nashville. That was like super-ultra-deluxe panic attack week. But now it’s a different type of anxiety. And I don’t understand why. Only that it’s daily and Clonazapam is the only thing that brings it down. I don’t understand the meal anxiety, especially. Where did this come from? I’m so tired of this eating disorder. I want it all. I want the body that I want and to live free from this food anxiety. I want both. I think that’s what I struggle with the most. I’m having trouble letting go of the ideal body image that I want. I don’t want to gain weight and I definitely don’t want to gain 20 more pounds. That’s crazy. But I do want to get better, at least today I do. I go back and forth. I think that’s normal. I hear it is at least. I don’t even mind doing the work. I just don’t want to look like a boy, again. I don’t want my body to morph back into a blob. It’s my biggest fear, I think. I guess. I don’t know, it’s hard to say. No, I do know. That’s my fear. I don’t want to be a rectangle. Body dysmorphia is real and it’s precisely the opposite of body dysphoria. And from what I can tell, it’s really complicated treating both. I guess that’s why 40% or some other ridiculous number of trans women have an eating disorder. At least I know with certainty that I did not do this to myself, like Danielle kept insisting. I was traumatized and fucked up by her AND my body doesn’t match my brain. Well, it didn’t. It’s better now, but if I go backwards, it won’t be.
They’re going to push me to challenge these thoughts, I know. But that’s where I butt heads with treatment. That’s where I find the most struggle. I can’t have body neutrality. It goes against my core value that if there is something about your body that you don’t like, it’s up to you to change it. Neutrality says, don’t give a fuck about your body. GAC says, change your body to match your brain. I think this is cognitive dissonance. Both can not be true in this case, can they? And the staff and therapists here are really wonderful and want to help, but I don’t feel like anyone has the right knowledge to help. I’m an outlier of the disordered eating population and it’s clear that Courtney doesn’t. I don’t think Dr. Parsley does. And Alana tries her best, but I don’t think she knows either. I get that the science for trans people is relatively new. My understanding is that the first studies were really done in the late 70’s to mid 80’s. And most of those were relatively flawed, as trans science was mostly seen as some sort of perversion then. And the means and methods of their studies demonstrated such. For example, one of the big studies in the 80’s made an assumption that a relatively large population of trans women lied when they were surveyed. This is crazy, how can you come up with a curve to represent lying from a survey. If that paper hasn’t been retracted, it should be. It never should have passed the peer review process. Another huge issue is finding populations to study. With so much negative press and scary political things happening, many advocacy groups recommend exercising extreme caution before participating in a study. There are some bad actors out there that have ill intent and it’s important that we don’t give them fuel for their fire. For example, the woman that wrote the now retracted paper on “Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria” has been trying to recruit for another study, which undoubtedly again target the science behind gender dysphoria. Be careful is all I’m saying. We must all be careful. Bad science is real and it’s out there. It’s such a fucked up world right now. Civil rights are being rolled back, minority groups are being targeted. It’s a real problem.
11:00am on the nose and we just finished snack. I took hydroxyzine again. I don’t think it actually does anything to help. The snow ball has begun to turn into an ice boulder. I can feel it all throughout my body. I’m nervous and shaky. There’s weight on my shoulders and pain in my neck. My feet can’t sit still and my stomach is uncomfortable. They keep saying it’s all normal. I don’t believe them. I don’t feel normal. My head is kind of achy. Not a headache, but just light headed, I guess. I’m feeling anxious. Why? Because we’re not even half way done for the day and I’m already feeling this bad. Also, anxious because groups have been so hard lately. Both just being in the group room with everyone and worry about what we’ll talk about during group. It just feels like every topic has been hard lately. Maybe that’s part of the radical acceptance bit or something. It’s weird because normally I thrive in group. I like participating and talking it out. I love hearing different perspectives and opinions. It’s how we learn about and get to know each other. It’s such an important part of treatment. I’ve skipped too many groups this week.
11:47 AM and we just finished group. I made it through, although my anxiety has hit 10/10 as a result. The subject was Red Light, Yellow Light, Green Light behaviors. Examples of Red Light behaviors:
- Excess Movement
- Impulsivity and irritability
- Louder Depression
- Self worth
- Restriction
- Isolation
- Medical Issues
- Using ED to Cope
- Numbers Chasing
- Dishonesty
- Obsessive Thinking
- Denial and procrastination
- Invalidation
- Purposefully Triggering oneself
- Not getting help
- Distress dysregulation
- Unrealistic goals
Yellow Light Behaviors:
- Just in case, keeping sick clothing
- Giving in once in a while
- Counting Calories
- White-knuckling
- Relapse Planning
- Just this once mentality
- Romanticizing
- Body Checking
- Comparison
- Recovery limit
- Denial
- Justifying
- Awareness
- Routine rigidity
- Compensation
- Conflicted or indifferent
Green Light Behaviors:
- Values first!!!
- Using coping skills
- Asking for help
- Triggers are gone
- Seeing Whys and bigger picture
- Engaging with passions
- Feeling Feelings
- Mindful of triggers
Here’s where I struggle and why this group made me so anxious. I’m not in the green area yet. Most of my behavior and thought patterns are still yellow or red. This is my biggest fear. I’m not making enough progress. I said that today I want to get better, because my value is being a good parent for Juniper #1, and a healthy brain so I can look at surgery sooner than later. But I’m definitely white knuckling it right now. I definitely don’t want body neutrality. I am still bargaining with myself. I isolate myself to cope. I self-sabotage by restricting. I body check frequently, at least once or twice a day. I use avoidance. I skip groups. I rationalize why i should skip a meal or snack. I look for excuses to do so. I still want this skinny body. I still have obsessive thinking. I don’t want to give up my sick clothes. I’ve engaged in relapse planning. I romanticize my small body. I’m in denial some days and justifying behaviors. I compare myself to other girls.
I think it’s safe to say, I am NOT in recovery. And this is where that stuck feeling comes in, because I am doing what I need to do, or at least trying to do. But I’m not in a recovery mindset and I don’t know how to get there. And that makes me feel anxious and like I won’t ever get there. That re-enforces that belief that I’m broken beyond repair. It’s scary, because I know I have to get better to be there for Juniper, but right now, staying sick still has some weird allure that I don’t understand. I am very worries about body image. I know Alana is just going to tell me to challenge these thoughts, but the voice is so loud. I don’t know how to challenge them. To me, it just seems like there are too many negatives associated with being in recovery. I don’t know how to reach that final stage, where I want to be in recovery. Where I care about it. Anusha said she’s in recovery because she knows her values. Her values are what keep her driven. I know my values, but maybe I’m just too selfish to recover. Maybe I’m just to stupid to see the value. There, see, I’m questioning my worth and using negative self-talk. I know for a fact that’s yellow/red behavior and yet I’m doing it anyways. I just feel like something is wrong with me. LIke i’m different from everyone else and I can’t do this. I hear Danielle telling me I can’t do this. I see her sabotaging me and it makes me want to give up.
They want me to progress. Alana and Courtney are pushing me to do phase II, but look at how far away I am from being in the green. I can’t even list 5 greenlight behaviors that I’m currently doing. But yellows and reds… all over the place. It’s so upsetting. I feel worthless. I want to go in my room and refuse to come out. Kristen will be on my ass if I do that, but it’s what I want to do. I want to quit. I don’t. But I do. I’m arguing with myself. I remember having these arguments when I was ready to quit cocaine and when I was ready to quit smoking. The constant battle, back and forth, in and out, up and down. This feels familiar, but different. Here’s the radical truth. If I walked out these doors today, I would go get energy drinks. I would say I was getting lunch, but not do it. I would restrict every meal that there are no direct eyes on me. I would check the scale daily. I would check the mirror, real mirrors, so I could see what I want to see. I would let my sick brain do most of the talking and convince myself I’m not sick and that I don’t need help. I already want to compensate for the big lunch and fatty milkshake snack. All these things are true. I’m not better. I’m white-knuckling it. I’m only doing it so they don’t take my meds away. I’m only doing it because I love juniper and she needs me in her life. I’m only doing it because I’m sad my friends are leaving soon and I’m going to feel alone here. I don’t even want to admit I have an eating disorder. I go back and forth. Why is my brain taking so much fucking time to heal. It’s fucking exhausting and everyone is growing impatient, including my team. It’s yet another reason I don’t trust them. They want to push me into Phase II when I know in my heart and brain that I’m just not there. I’m literally being bullied into eating here.
I do love juniper. She is a core value. I promised her every opportunity and I have to give it to her. I’m ready to be back in MY house and send my Mom back to TN. I’m ready to be independent again. I’m not ready for the isolation. I need friends, real ones, that want to hang out with me because I’m me. I need a support system. I want people my age and younger, too. Not just older people. I am still filled with youth. I guess that’s something my ED has cut into. It’s made me feel older, maybe? I don’t know, I can’t tell.
And what am I going to do when I don’t have the crutch of clonazepam to lean on every day. It’s how I’m able to get through lunch and PM snack. Dinner is a whole other beast, especially if it’s something gross. I don’t want to eat. I’m doing it because I have to, but I definitely don’t want to, at all. I feel bloated and gross. I want to go run. I want to burn as many of these calories as I can. I want to restrict. I don’t trust my body, I feel like it’s betraying me. I want to restrict lunch. Or skip it. What are my values today? Perseverance and adaptability. I must find the strength to keep doing the hard things. I have that picture of jude standing with her head up. I ask her to do such hard things, I have to do it, too.
7 minutes until lunch. I have 7 minutes to find the courage, strength and energy to go through another shitty meal. I’m repulsed by the very idea. Alana and Courtney talk about ordering in food, like that’s some kind of a treat. It’s not a treat. It’s gross. I don’t want some fatty restaurant food. Maybe a really big black coffee, but I don’t want sugary pastries. I don’t want meaty burgers or greasy fries. I don’t want sushi. I don’t even want seaweed salad or edamame. It all sounds absolutely repulsive to me. I don’t like milkshakes anymore. They are oppressive. Here I am, redlighting the fuck out and i’m not even looking at a discharge date yet. I’m not making progress. I’m just being bullied. I don’t trust my team. Our goals don’t align. I want to puke right now. I’m so full and I don’t know where any extra food is supposed to go. And i hate, hate, hate my body and it’s functions. I hate eating, it’s gross. Fuck you and your friend fucking foods. It’s nasty and I feel disgusted eating it. I would eat cake with juniper though. My little sweet pea. I love her and miss her so much. I’m starting to cry. I miss her every minute of every hour of every day. She’s the reason I have to get better. They’ll take her away from me, no matter how well I take care of her. They’ve already threatened me thanks to Danielle’s dumb ass conversation with the social worker. DHS is going to be on my ass forever. Thanks Danielle, you fucking twat.
She don’t so much damage and she gets to walk away, scot free, feeling like the victim. She’s really a vile fucking piece of shit. She’s vile, but only because of her brain. Her brain is broken. Maybe more so than me. And she’s not getting help, she’s being coddled. What the fuck? I thought her sisters were so fucking smart. Apparently not, because the isolated her for staying with me. They know she’s fucking delusional. I get that they are sisters, but really? You know she’s sick. You know her brain is sick. You drove out of my home and into that douche bag’s apartment. I’m still so sad. She’s an evil, mean cunt and I still love her and I still dream of her and I still just want her to call me and ask how I’m doing. I still just want to talk to her for hours about nothing. I still want that comfort and calmness that gives me. I still am willing to be abused to have that. That makes me still sick I guess and that sucks. Abuse sucks. I’ll never be over her and I’ll never fill this hole in my heart. Fuck my life. I’m broken.
Lunch was so gross. More cheese quesadillas and a bunch of baby carrots. I felt my stomach stretching. My gut is working over time. My guilt is building and I have regrets for finishing, even though I’m happy that I did it, sort of. I really like Kristen, although her rules can be a little challenging sometimes. If you’re chill with her, say please and thank you and follow the rules to the best of your ability, she’s really cool. She doesn’t hold grudges and she will get your back if you need it. She’s cool.and any issue that i have with her, I can resolve with my team. She did rat on me for not leaving my room last week, which sucked. But I also know that she’s just doing her job and in her mind, she was helping me, by holding me accountable for isolating. It just that particular day really sucked, because I was having mega anxiety and my introvert was shining through. But today she’s been awesome. One of the things I like about her is that she will always chat with you and she’s nearly always smiling, including on days when she is really tired. She doesn’t really get moody, she’s even keeled. What she does not appreciate is demanding shit, not taking redirection and consistent rule breaking. At least you know where you stand with her. She enforces some rules really strictly, like supplement and eating, etc. But other stuff she let’s slide, like hoodies and such at the table. Also very strict about red light topics (but in a kind way). In a way that’s good, because some of the red light topics are very triggering for some patients. I get that, it makes sense. The last thing that i want to do is send someone over the edge.
Well fuck me. It’s 4:28 PM and somehow I slept through PM snack. I didn’t hear them call it and I didn’t hear everyone shuffle down there. No one woke me up. Oh well. This is the shit I’m talking about, I didn’t even want to wake up. It’s an excuse, I’m rationalizing, because I didn’t want to eat anything else. I’ll go to dinner for sure though, it’s Polly’s last dinner here and I don’t want to miss it. But like, I don’t want to eat. I’m terrified about what I may have picked for dinner. Apparently, I got pretttttty fucking brave for the whole fucking menu thing on Tuesday. I’m really really sick of eating.
I don’t think I had a chance to talk about what I wore today. I wanted to wear something childlike and whimsical for Polly’s last day. Some of the girls wore onesies, which was cute. But they only wore them to breakfast. I, however, wore my black glitter skirt that leaves a trail of glitter, wherever I go. It’s kind of magical in that way. Everyone loved it. I just wanted to be childlike for a day. I probably won’t dress this silly again while I’m here. But Polly brings out the inner child in all of us, I think it’s pretty safe to say.
Second, today was Mother’s Day and I got so many well wishes from everyone wishing me a happy mother’s day and calling me Mom. It’s really touching that they see me that way and I believe they truly do. Juniper may call me Dad, but to her, Dad is a nurturer and safety and provides. I’ve got to get home to her. I’ve got to try harder. I’ve got to do better. This shouldn’t be so hard. I’m seeing my friends accelerate past me on a daily basis and I’m still stuck here, missing meals, missing groups. It’s so frustrating. I feel like I’m failing harder than hard. But the thing that everyone says and that I know is true is that I am a great Mom to juniper. Mom is a title you have to earn every single day. I show up. I’m there when she needs me. I make sure she is safe. By letter her stay with my Mom, I’m keeping her safe. Keeping Danielle the fuck away from her is keeping her safe. I’ve got to get back to her sooner than later. I’ve got to do this Phase II business. I’ve got to take the leap. I’ve got to trust that even though I’m in yellow territory, I’m making the right amount of progress and that it’s enough. I’ve got to trust that my team wouldn’t push me to the next level if they didn’t think I was ready for it. Trust. That’s a fucked up word, because the abuse and the trauma caused by Danielle has obliterated my trust in everyone. I don’t even completely trust my Mom, yet. I’m working on that, but it’s a long fucking road that I have to travel down.
I’m disappointed in myself. My goal today was to go to all meals and groups and I missed PM snack and I missed PM group (even if they are just watching Twilight). I can do better. But, I also must remember to give myself some grace. I deserve it. I’ve worked hard and I’ve apparently helped people. Kirsi was my kudos this week. I normally write a letter to go along with a gift. But earlier this week when Kirsi was having a really rough day, I wrote her a letter just telling her to keep going, be strong and overcome whatever challenge she faced. It wasn’t necessarily meant to be her kudos, but she needed a little boost that day. I’m terrible at spoken words, for the most part, but I can write a nice letter or email. I’m pretty good at that. People believe me when I write to them.
The winds are changing here. Tomorrow there are 4 new admits. FOUR. We’re completely full, so there’s going to be some unit shifting tomorrow. Hopefully they leave our unit alone and just open 2E. If they separate our group, it’s going to wreck a lot of our progress. Especially with those of us that have been here for a while. I brought this up earlier, but it’s one of those thoughts that has just kind of been ruminating all day and I can’t seem to get it out of my head. I’m not super duper close when any one person here, but they are my friends and I think I’m mostly liked here now. I feel safe and accepted. The girls see me as a Mom for crying out loud. I love them for that. I don’t want to start over. It’s such a scary proposition. I need to start preparing to make an exit plan, though. I need to be brave and go to Phase II. I’ve got to start worrying about how I’m going to live my life in recovery. That’s green light thinking. That’s good. Now I just have to make it stick, which I can do. Be brave Clara. Be strong. Being delicate does not mean being weak. You can be strong and delicate at the same time. You’ve got this. It’s written all over the fucking walls. YOU’VE GOT THIS. I just haven’t believed it yet. I’ve got to stand up. I’ve got to let go of these eating disordered thoughts. I’ve got to make the leap from yellow to green. I’ve got to shut down the red thoughts and behaviors. It’s the only way to get back to juniper and ensure that she’s getting everything that she needs. It’s the only way that I’m going to be able to progress this amazing relationship with Brandon. Besides, he’s a man with needs, if I don’t get out of here soon and he has those needs met elsewhere, will he even stick around. Actually, I think he will.
Ok, this Lindsey shit is just starting to get ridiculous… every fucking thing is an argument. She needs special sheets and special creams, special lotions and Rogain, don’t for the fucking rogain. I mean, yeh, I feel bad for her in some ways. But on the same token, like, you can’t just demand shit. Stuff makes it way upstairs after it is checked in downstairs. Then it comes up and a BHT or therapist has to approve it. It takes time. Nothing is going to happen instantly. It’s a hospital and there are policies. If you have a medical need, the Dr. has to approve it and write an order. Badgering Kristen and Frank are not going to get you anything any faster. Seriously, bro, chill the fuck out. Your sheets aren’t making you itch. You hypochondrism is what’s doing that.
God, I can’t shake the thought of Danielle today. I know she keeps coming up in the journal, but I just miss her. I keep thinking about all the time we spent together, all the good things we did. How just going to the store or for a walk was a great adventure. I miss her so much. I wish she would just call me, tell me she’s all better and that she’s coming home. We’d call off the divorce and I would be allowed to keep loving her forever. I can take the abuse. I can take it, just come home to me. I miss your voice. I miss holding you and I miss our conversations that would go on for hours and hours about nothing at all. I miss you so much and I don’t know why you betrayed me. Why did you leave me. When will this hurt stop. When will I be able to think about something else. I hate this. I hate it so fucking much. I just want things to go back to how they were. I just want to see you when I walk in the living room or bedroom. I just want to make dinners with you every night. I want us to cook and laugh and talk to jude and take her places. I want us to heal. You’re my soul mate. We were never supposed to be apart again. How in the actual fuck did this happen. It’s not just my heart that’s broken, it’s my soul. It’s been ripped away from me. I forgive you. I forgive you for anything and everything. I just want you to come home. I want to be a family again. I loved our little family. It was unique and strange and it was everything we both loved. Why did you stop loving it? How could you stop loving me and Jude. We are a team. We were the perfect team, we always were. This was never supposed to happen again. We promised each other forever and forever and I meant it and I thought you did, too. Why would you betray me like this? How could you? You promised you’d never stop trying, but your promises are lies. Lies upon lies upon lies. I don’t think you understand what honesty even means. Or maybe you do and you’ve just forgotten. Who have you become? It’s not the person you said you were. That person was kind and considerate and didn’t judge people on things they couldn’t control. That person said they’d never stop trying. That person said I could trust them with my heart. I gave it to you, completely and you tore it to bits after ripping me to shreds. Your brain is sick. Your brain is so sick that it told you to stop trusting me. It told you to get away and made up a story about me being a villain so that it would have an excuse to do so. And in the process, you abandoned me and Jude. We just want you to come home and be normal again. When are you going to be normal again? I know one day you’re going to wake up and remember that I’m your person and you are mine. How long do we have to wait. Until I’m on my deathbed? How long will jude have to wait? Until she’s fully grown. It’s not fair. It’s not fair and I reject this change. This is one change too many and i reject it and demand you come to your senses and stop being an idiot. Stop being this aggressive, hateful bitch or whatever the fuck you are now. Come back. Come home and let’s get back on track. Let’s fix this. There’s nothing in this world that we can’t do together, we can fix it. But you have to try. Send me a text and tell me you’re going to call me. I need to hear your voice. I miss your voice. I miss you. Please, please, please, come home.
I’m in my room and I’ve got the door cracked open. It’s actually quite warm in here right now, because it’s warm outside and our windows are west facing on this unit. Living out west and having west facing windows equals hot, hot, hot afternoons. I’ve got my blinds pulled down most of the way, but Juniper’s pictures are lining the window sill, so I don’t want them down all the way. And, honestly, I use the windows in the evening to body check. I only do it 2-3 times a day, but I’m definitely still doing it. I’m supposed to urge surf to not body check, but it’s just not working for me. I’m just not confident enough. I just don’t trust my team and I don’t want my body to change. I guess that makes me selfish, but I want to be small. 150lb girl is not small. I’ll never be happy being that size. This goes back to my college years, when I was working out and trying to gain wait. I had to eat like a pro wrestler to get to 145 and it never felt right. And now they’re telling me to ignore the number on the scale. Well, I don’t want to. My brain is not in recovery. I don’t think it can be. I don’t want to be big. I want to wear a size 2. I like being tiny. Brandon likes me little. It’s sexy and I look delicate. I don’t want to get bigger.
My bud this evening was Euphoria, but my real bud is my night time meds and sleep. I want to wake up tomorrow and try this again. I’m setting big goals for this week. I don’t know if I’ll get close, but I’m going to try. I have to make more progress. I can’t stand still. I have to move forward. It’s so hard though. I just have no desire to be what they tell me I need to be. I’m never going to be happy if I feel like an ogre. And if I get bigger than 140, I will feel like a fucking monster. I’m not just fighting to be a pretty girl here, I’m fighting to be recognized as a girl at all. It’s lovely when you’re in a place like this and (almost) everyone recognizes your gender. Those that don’t just say it by mistake and I don’t even hold it against them. I mean, i struggle with the enbys and they are part of my clan. Something about the grammar fucks me up. Oh, and their was Violet. I miss gendered her like 20 times. I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out. But it slipped out because I saw her as him. Which is why Betty saying him over and over is hurtful. Like, either see me as a woman or just leave me alone and don’t talk to or about me at all.
I think I hurt Betty’s feelings again at dinner. Writing about Danielle just made me really sad tonight. Knowing that my brain isn’t recovered really fucked me up in group. Polly is leaving tomorrow after breakfast. That’s got me all fucked up. I just don’t want to talk to Betty about it. And I didn’t want to leave the table. I wanted to sit through the discomfort. There are times when I need to get up and leave. But tonight I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stick it out. On the bright side, I think I’m earning Katy’s respect, which is kind of cool, because they are a gender diverse person and they are clearly the coolest fucking person of this new gaggle of admits. Their favorite band is Nirvana, which is fucking awesome. And, they think my dinner question answers are brilliant and funny. So that’s cool. They did steal Polly’s spot on the couch this week, but Polly wanted to work on their painting anyways. I miss them sitting with me, but I appreciate that they just needed to work on their painting. They always have to be doing something during groups, probably just to stay calm and I think they finished their paint by sticker books. Fuck I’m going to miss Polly. They bring out the inner child in all of us, including the staff. It just won’t be the same without them.
So now, it’s a matter of navigating this unit without the person that makes me feel ok.
Ok, so this shit is goddamn getting hilarious. Lindsey is telling Jack (BHT, super chill) what he “HAS TO DO.” She thinks that she’s getting her shit tonight. Na girl, them shits gotta get checked in, just like everything else. She also said, it’s part of the rules, “he has to go over to her side with her.” Na girl, Jack ain’t gotta do shit. There are no rules, but you do what you’re told around here. You’re not guaranteed room time. You’re not guaranteed blankets from home. You’re not guaranteed to be happy. And demanding shit is just fucking funny. I’m really super ultra tempted to steal her shit from the bathroom and hide it somewhere on the unit. I just want to see her head explode. She’s such a fucking ass. I also want to erase her shower spot and fill in all the remaining spots with fake initials. Like, bitch, you need to calm the mother fuck down. What a goddamn hoe. I know I keep saying it, but it’s true. Sit the fuck down. Shut the fuck up. You are not important. No one gives a flying rats fucking ass about your wants and needs bitch. Oh, and quit stealing other people’s shit. Oh. And. Fuck you. Geez. I hope I didn’t come across like that when I got here. I see the problem now. For real. If I did, I’m sorry. Like, really, truly sorry.
This journal is supposed to be about my journey, right? Well guess what, my journey has reached a pivotal point where I can see I was wrong. I can see what a spoiled ass I was. And you know the funny thing is that Betty sees Lindsey behaving this way and she is repulsed by it, too. I saw Betty and it made me calm down and Betty sees Lindsey and it makes her calm down. What would it take to make Lindsey shut the fuck up? Well, we have 4 admits tomorrow. What are the odds of a primadonna amongst the new recruits? Shit, I think it’s time go get in line for meds. The line opens at 7:15 and I don’t want to be last tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll keep writing . What the fuck else am I going to do while I wait.
Hey, it’s Nurse Brandon tonight. I like him, he’s cute, for a white boy. He walked in on me changing one night and it was kind of funny. I don’t think he saw that much, but I could tell it kind of embarrassed him. Not me so much. At this point, who hasn’t seen me naked. Totally cool. Really. Although, it did make Brandon a little jealous. Not a little, quite a lot. He wants to fight him. Not really, but he did at least play like he’s jealous. I find that hilarious and kind of cute. Not that there’s anything to worry about. The countdown begins, I’m just determined to not be last for meds tonight. My goal is to be so sleepy by the end of HS snack, I wobble into the Splatahhh, brush my teeth, wash my face and fall into bed. I’ll doubt I’ll even make it under the blanket. I love seroquel.
There’s growing interest in my writing and it’s really cute. One of the newer girls from this week, Priscilla, is about the most darling thing you’ve ever seen. She’s cute as a button, she shares a shopping addiction (hers is Lulu Lemon). But here’s the catch, she is super smart. She’s 18 years old and extremely well read and already has so much insight into this eating disorder business. I’m learning things from these kids that I had no idea, especially around relapse prevention and just eating disorder behaviors in general. To give you a visual, she’s got long, dirty blonde hair and the cutest smile. And I love how she talks to me like I’m on her level. Like sharing tiktoks and telling me about celebrities. It’s really fun. It’s something with Gen Y (I guess she’s a why, I don’t think she’s an alpha). They are just so much more accepting and empathetic. But hearing her talk about her shopping is one of my favorite things. She has a package that was supposed to arrive last week that is finally downstairs and she should get it tomorrow. I’m genuinely curious to see what she’s got. Priscilla is a great name for her, too. She comes with a little spice. You know, a little zing. She’s showing me her mindful tiktok dancing and it’s silly fun. I like her, she’s got a great spirit and she’s going to do awesome things. I think she said she’s 18 and starting college in the fall. She’ll be living in the dorms. We had a chat about the importance of staying out of rooms as much as possible and just being around other people. That’s what I mean about insightfulness. She’s a smart kid. So, Priscilla, if I end up letting you read this, this is my section dedicated to you. You’re cool and ooze potential. Your outlook and attitude speak volumes. You’re smart, witty and like to laugh. You like to learn and read. And there’s nothing wrong with a minor shopping addiction. NOTHING. Just can’t let it get too big, that’s all. And, we’re the only Aries on this unit. Aries have to stick together.
Okay, so there’s some hope. I like the new girls. New friends. They’re all really young, but that’s ok. I like hanging out with young people, it makes me feel young, too. I love that they are already guessing my answers to dinner questions. Am I that obvious? But they are clever and they get my jokes and sense of humor. Wasn’t I bitching that no one gets my sense of humor? Well they do. Katy called my answer to tonight’s question, “If you could be reincarnated as a sea animal what would it be?” The obvious answer that most people go for is something like a shark or whale or dolphin. But Rose and I had the same idea. I love Rose. She said sea slug, which is a wonderful answer. I said, “something like a mollusk or a clam that just sits at the bottom of the ocean collecting debris. They’re like the trust fund babies of the ocean.” Katy called it brilliant. Katy is brilliant, so I took that as a huge compliment. Katy is the one that got me writing. I saw them constantly journaling and it made me start writing. And when I filled up one journal, I started this journal, while I waited on Chris to hook up a new journal and as it turns out, this is way better. I can type faster than i can write and so my hands can actually keep up with my brain. Bonus points. I can actually read what I’ve written. I’m not saying this is Pulitzer material or anything. But I do think documenting as much of my experience as I can has some value. Maybe someday Juniper will want to know more about me and someone can read this to her (or she can read it herself, the kid is BRILLIANT).
Polly is packing and we’re all gathered outside their door. Everyone is feeling this loss. Kirsi, Ella and Rose especially. We love Polly. I mean that. We love them. They are a bright shining star. I gush. But it’s all true. And I hear them laughing down the hall. I have to get out of here, so I can go to PHP. Or maybe I should ask them for their phone number. I don’t want to be weird or be a weirdo. Meanwhile, Katy is sitting outside the group room on her own, journaling away. I love it. They inspired me and continue to do so. And there is something to be said for not letting paralysis by analysis keep you from writing. I wish I felt the same way about music. I would have been a massive rock star and song writer, but I let my perfectionism get in the way. With writing, I don’t give a fuck. You can read this or not. Makes no difference to me. I’m not doing this for you. I will say, I have one huge fan already, Danielle. She loved reading my journal so much, she made an illegal copy of it and quote parts of it to use against me for like 2 months straight. Thanks, love. Snack time. Let’s get through this, it’s going to be emotional for me, but I’ll do my best and then I’m going to bed.
Fuck it, I asked Polly for their phone number, we exchanged. That makes me happy. Okay! So all is not lost.
Now, before bed, which is approaching very fucking quickly, because night meds are starting to work, I have one more Lindsey story to share. Mind you, she’s on 2E and they are basically telling her she has to come over here to shower and use spa for night time shit. I do empathize with her a little bit, because it sucks she doesn’t get room time and all of her stuff is on the other side. That has to be frustrating. But her approach is just fucking atrocious. She demands instead of asking. She’s a cunt. That’s right, the big C. It should go without saying, DO NOT BE A STUPID FUCKING CUNT. And she is. A righteous one. She’s rude and demanding and entitled and can’t just go with the flow. It’s one thing to be frustrated at the situation, but it’s another to take it out on staff or anyone else. And the hits just keep on coming. She was brushing her teeth in Splataaaah and all of the sudden she starts marking these weird gargling noises, followed by some hawk tua sound. Rose walks behind me grinning and I’m trying not to laugh. The other girls are all giving each other looks. It was so funny and bizarre, all rolled into one. I think we outlined this in previous chapters on socialization with ladies. Definitely a rule that you should not be gross. That includes making lots of noise gargling and certainly no hawk tuas. That shit’s just nasty. Four new admits tomorrow and we can hope, yes hope, that they open 2E and do programming, meds and spa over there. Lindsey will be their problem at that point. Poor Toby. He’s going to be stuck with that weird ass woman. Hopefully the new admits will be cool and he’ll find some comradery. My eyes are getting heavy. It’s been a long, long day and I need to rest.
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