2004-12-06, 10:59 p.m.
I guess the reality of inpatient treatment hit me tonight over the toilet as my ears starting ringing (i've read that's because of dehydration) because I started to sob and no matter how much I tried to fight it, I just kept crying. I also guess it finally hit me because Julio and I kind of picked out a treatment place. He's going to call the people from my insurance place about UCLA and that just makes things so final. Such a next step. And I'm so, so bloody scared. After this is finalized, we set up things with my dad, and I guess I go. Oh god, I want to cry again.
It just doesn't feel like this would ever come. For some reason I always felt like I could avoid this some how: Get better on my own, keep pushing this back forever and ever, get so sick I'd end up in the hospital and I wouldn't have to go into IP by decision, get so sick I just die. I don't know. It doesn't seem like this would actually happen. The worlds "UCLA" and white hospital walls keep flashing in my eyes and tears form in my eyes. I'm 18. Why am I going to a hospital? I know it's not like a real hospital...but for some reason I just wish there were some other option. But I know I fucked myself over. The worse part is everyone is so happy about this. Why be happy about reversing something that shouldn't of happened in the first place? And locking me up to just fatten me up?
Anyway. Julio and I's session was good today despite the fact I didn't get mad at him like I wanted to. It got all ruined when he offered me coffee and was all nice to me right off the bat. Bastard being nice. I kid, I kid. But Julio made some good points about me and was very up lifting. He was saying how there's a very healthy person that is kicking and screaming to get out and he's seen that in me since the first day he met me, but something won't let it out. We talked about how my perception of relationships is messed up. He said really, Melissa, how many functional relationships where the other person truly understands you. I paused and said, um, 1, holding up my index finger then moved it pointing to him. He said as long as he was around he can teach me to have functional relationships. I told him not to die on me and he said not to die on him either. I saw that as a good sign that he wasn't going to ditch me anytime soon but I worry about this treatment thing that I won't be able to see him anymore.
We talked about my body image and how that even if people don't have a perfect body, and no one does, it doesn't matter. That no one likes every single thing about them. And somewhere down the line the people in my life (i.e. my parents) put it in my mind that I was unloveable. Lately I've been thinking about the possibility of how nice it would be to be healthy. How nice it would be to live without scales, counting calories, and not to worry about my body. To realize that calories = energy and calories not the devil. It would be so wonderful to eat 3 meals a day and not be hungry all the time. Lately that seems like a dream not to have to binge to sickness and purge to exhaustion.
I told Julio how much I'd love to be healthy. I'd give anything to rewind and yell at myself and get myself to stop. He said I'm a poster child for if reincarnation exists, then I'm in. I'm an old soul in a young body. I'm wise beyond my years. That was flattering.
He said next step is UCLA. Admit that I'm powerless.
I'm so, so scared. I can't even describe the fear that goes along with it. All the questions, anxieties. What if I can't do this? What if I'm forever tortured with this? I told Julio I need to start living or dying and I honestly don't know which I can do.