In many ways, hospital admissions for depression are easier than hospital admissions for anorexia. With this admission it feels like there’s so many more rules and restrictions, and so much more to lose.
I’ve been getting my feeds through the nasogastric tube, as well as eating the majority of each of my meals so that I can get the NG tube out and ultimately leave hospital as soon as possible. With that, it feels as though I’m rapidly losing control. I’ve only very occasionally self harmed these past few months but over the past couple of days I’ve found those urges to cut returning. Of course, being in a psych ward I don’t have the means to do so and get increasingly desperate and distressed. I’ve tried to make do with punching the wall instead.
Over just the past two days I’ve gained 1.1kg. My stomach is so very bloated, and I look like I could be pregnant. On one hand that gets me out of here sooner. On the other hand, I’m disgusted at myself for eating. For gaining weight. For getting fatter and fatter, after months of hard work in losing that weight. I don’t want to see my body expanding before my eyes, feel the flab returning to my arms and legs, for my stomach to protrude, for my thigh gap to disappear.
The doctor said today that I could be here another three or four weeks. Tomorrow marks two weeks already that I’ve spent in hospital, the thought of another three or four weeks in here just feels horrible. I miss my freedom, and I miss having control over my life. Not to mention this screws up uni for me, yet again. Right now I want nothing more than to discharge myself from all mental health services so that I’m never ever forced into treatment and imprisoned against my will again. Unless they put me under a Community Treatment Order I don’t see what’s stopping me from just going home and losing this weight all over again.