Monday, Mar. 15, 2004/9:10 pm

spillage

The can of worms has been opened.

I had to see my diabetic nurse today. It wasn't a pleasant experience, she was so angry with me, literally shaking. At the last apointment she took an hba1c sample, which measures your average blood sugar level over the last 3 months, it was high. Far too high to match up with the false meter readings i've been recording. She didn't understand, asked me what was going on. I played dumb, biting my lip, trying to stop the tears. My Mum told her that she thought i was still vomitting, and that i constantly smelt of ketones. I was made to have a urine test, which showed ketones as present. She said that the ketones could be partly due to starvation as well as high sugars and that she needed to talk to the eating disorder specialists.

I'm in trouble. Deep down and stuck. Time to sink or swim.

Whilst i was using the toilet she spoke to my Mum, and said my clothes are hanging off me again. Apparently i will be sectioned if i keep on like this. If i don't gain some weight and sort myself out. She also advised that i go to my treatment review on the 31st, instead of avoiding it, otherwise decisions may be made without me.

I was in a state, of course i was. I can't go back into hospital, i just can't. Mum was so disapointed in me, and all i could utter on the way home was 'please don't make me go back there.'

I thought about killing myself, just for a moment.

The only option left is to try, try and change, try, try, try.

I have read diaries of those who have overcome this illness, those i admire, those i am inspired by. It gives me a little hope.

I kept down soup for dinner tonight. Tomato soup and a small baguette. I lay sprawled out on the sofa afterwards, from 6 until 7, uncomfortable and bloated. Not willing to sit up and feel the extra fold of flesh curl inwards. I still feel quite ill, my stomach isn't used to this. I've asked if we can have chicken salad tommorrow night, hoping to withstand that inside me too. I am taking my insulin, somehow, i am.

& i feel awful, and guilty and bad. But i've built up a few responses in my head, just to aid me through for now.

Telling myself that if i had to be re-admitted, i would have to put on more weight in the long term.

Switching the punishment around, the torment of food, punishment of having to take when it's easier to refuse.

The reasurance that i can always turn back if it gets too much. Relapse, lose it all again, just for now, i have to keep going.

And the most important promise, a promise to do this for everyone else. Not for me, not for health or happiness, but to ease the worries of others, of which i am not worthy of.

I have to be well enough to go back to college in September. I want to be able to have children, see their faces instead of just a blur, i want to write, and not be mistaken for a 12 or 13 year old.

Wow, a difference from the last entry i wrote no? hmmm, i do change my mind alot. I don't think i will ever be fully dedicated to recovery, but i guess halfway is better than nothing. Halfway is better than dead.

I just felt so selfish and screwed-up today, like the whole world is looking down on me, not because of who i am but what i've done.

It will be okay....right?