2005-10-03, 8:18 p.m.
Today was not a good day at program. I felt like crying the whole time and I seriously feel like throwing my hands up in the air regards to treatment. I've really not felt good about anything towards recovery since we had this talk on Friday about people's chances of relapse....and those chances are big. I feel seriously depressed and hopeless. Everything I do is wrong and the treatment team keeps telling me how chronic I am and how I need to go IP. It's really discouraging because I am trying so I feel like all my attempts are useless unless I make some serious progress. It's like unless I completely stop purging and eating according to my food plan I am not making progress to them and they're like "tsk tsk". It's fucking frustrating because I am really trying. They are saying over and over how honest I am and how that's good..but then they use that honesty against me which is REALLY frustrating. Like I can't work frozen yogurt into my food plan because my frozen yogurt is a "disorder" or a "behavior" and I need to use other foods. And because I admit to all my behaviors and foods...like my ephedra use and am so accurate on my food plan they're wanting to boot me out. I wish they would see that during the first week I only ate like 1/4 of all my food in program and I'd come home and buy binge food and have huge binges. Now I'm eating a lot more program food and my binges are smaller and less intense and less thought about. I'm not as hungry and craving them.
Today I was seriously hostile and couldn't calm down. During lunch when Laura, the nutritionist kept asking me to eat my food, I was seriously a bitch. I picked up my mutilated veggie burger with my fingers and shoved it in my mouth. I felt like chewing it with my mouth open and obnoxiously showing her I was eating. Before that I spooned the left over cottage cheese she wanted me to "scrape" from my bowl and put it under the bowl and mushed it all over my plate to show her I was done with it. BEFORE THAT I broke up my pretzels in little pieces but she made me eat those anyway. I was all over the place. During the morning I was joking around with a counselor I hardly know and was giving him a hard time. Inside I just wanted to cry. I cried while the nutritionist saw me. I had her look at a vitamin bottle my dad gives me and she says she DOESN'T want me on them because of the contents and it's so frustrating because those vitamins are my only source of income so it's either keep taking them against the nutrionist wishes or tell my dad about the program so I can figure out another way he'll pay me. Everyone, EVERY FUCKING DAY keeps telling me to tell my dad about the program and it's so annoying because they don't know my dad and I don't see the point in telling my dad. I want to hit my head against the wall every time they bring it up. It's another thing I feel like I'm doing wrong in the program because I'm refusing to tell my dad.
There's this new patient who keeps pointing out...kind of in a backhanded way how sick some people are and how good some of the patients are. She'll compliment some people and say some of the quirks "some" people have. She's never complimented me and she always says my food habits to the group. It's like she's saying how sick I am and other patients are in comparison to the group. it makes me feel like such insane freak. Like, "Wendie, I always thought you were one of the more sane bunch because you never cut up your food or use tons of mustard. You seem so level headed, Mary. You seem to really want to get better." And it's like because she never directs those comments at me about bring level headed and wanting to get better, but compare those comments about my mustard habit to me, it's like they're sane and wanting recovery, i'm choosing this fucked up path and i'm really insane. It's making me feel like such fuck up bad-seed.
All in all, I'm starting to get suicidal thoughts again. Like, this is impossible and my future is ruined. Stuff like "I should just give up" and "this is impossible" comes in my head multiple times a day. I start nearly crying everyday and leave to go the bathroom to cry. I'm picking up old habits of looking at books about suicide and death and dying in the psychology section of bookstores. If I have to go to IP, I'd rather kill myself.