I've been discharged!!!

It still hasn’t sunk in that I’ve actually been discharged; there have been lots of times when I’ve thought that the day would never come. 

Three months ago I waved goodbye to my parents through the glass window of the locked ward doors. However, on Thursday, I got to walk out of those same doors WITH them. I didn’t have to ask permission to be buzzed out or have to get my leave from the ward granted, I was able to freely walk out!

An update so far - life on the outside thrilling… I can now make cups of tea WHENEVER I want, can have HOT showers, or even a bath if I want! I can eat toast that’s actually toasted enough for the butter to melt. I can meet up with friends, go out, and roaring around in my trusty old Ona! It feels amazing.

It must be hard to imagine what life is like when your freedom is taken away from you, if you’ve never had to endure it. All I can say is how it felt for me - like my worst nightmare. The driving force behind my anorexia, has always been an extreme desire for control so being detained in a locked ward, where my bags were checked, my room searched, with little/no choice over the food I had to eat, and having to earn the simple pleasure of a walk in the fresh air, was horrendous but, let me make this very clear, I knew it was what I needed at the time. I wouldn’t be where I am today, or potentially still alive had I not been admitted.

The reality is that by trying to gain control through obeying my eating disorder, in the end, I lost all control. The things that I’ve seen and felt over the past three months whilst being an inpatient have been by far the hardest things that I have ever, and likely will ever, endure.

I’ll share below a few snippets from my journals throughout those 65 days; the realities of the many ups and downs of this journey, how the smallest things would brighten my day, and how manipulative this illness really is.

31st January 2019 – ‘I have to wait until 21:45 for ‘night snack’ before I can settle down and sleep and escape this nightmare. I’m still here though, as Mima knows if I walk out now it’ll (anorexia) make me go home, pretend things will be different when… they won’t, and I’ll have missed out on my one shot at beating this. So, no matter what, I WILL stick it out for now… a day at a time.’

 5th February 2019 – ‘Please, please, please help me get out of hospital, allow them to allow me to discharge myself tomorrow. I will try at home, I won’t let everyone down. My biggest fear is to be told I can’t and to be sectioned. I can’t put into words how much that scares me.’

6th February 2019 – ‘THE worst day of my life. Apparently I can’t leave, and if I try to they’ll do a MHA (Mental Health Assessment) on me as my BMI is life threateningly low. This is ridiculous!!!!’ 

‘Last night I couldn’t stop crying all evening – I was hysterical. If I’m honest, I wanted it all to end. I saw no reason to keep going. My life seemed hopeless. I have never ever felt so low, ever!’

12th February 2019 – ‘I’m SO proud I admitted myself here, I do SO want to get better, and I can’t believe I’m actually here, doing it, recovering! I AM! It’s petrifying, but I am DOING IT!’.

13th February 2019 – ‘Just feel like why the hell am I carrying on? Everyone says, “you’re so strong”, “you’ll have so much to look forward to” etc, when actually I don’t think that at all. I can’t bare to live like this anymore.’

‘Before I came in, if I re-read my entries, I’m praying for a bed, Mima knew she needed one, desperately & yet when I come in I want to get out. Why? Because being in here scares the life out of anorexia, it has nowhere to hide, it’s been revealed as toxic, not my friend, my enemy. IT wants power over me forever & the fact that’s not possible when I have a team here fighting against it when I feel I can’t any longer, that scares it, that petrifies it, as it’s true, manipulative self is being revealed. This experience is needed, much as it’s horrid. I’ve faced THE worst & most intense feelings of despair in here, but I’ve kept eating & got through them. Yep, in this cell of a room, I’ve faced my scary feelings, cried them out, written them out, anything & everything BUT using food as my coping mechanism. I’ve wanted to leave this place daily, I’ve felt totally desperate at times…’

‘Went right from my CPA (Care Programme Approach) where lovely Sharon came & gave me big hugs & said how proud she is of me, which means A LOT! I showed her the photo of her & me in my ward room & her letter up on the wall of my room.’

‘Just spoken to a very low Daddy, too. I just don’t get why life is so hard for my family, and has been for so long.’

Those are just a few of the many highs and lows that I’ve felt throughout this admission. Whilst an inpatient, it was the simplest of things, such as toast rather than cold bread, or crumpets in that day’s delivery, that would make my day. Jokes aside, I hope that the above sheds perhaps a glimmer of light on what the past 65 days have been like for me, and above all that they help show why this illness is so serious, and just how manipulative it is. After just two days in the ward it tried to trick me into believing I was cured and ‘had learnt my lesson’. This illness doesn’t stop at anything, it not only tricks those around you, it also tricks the sufferer too, and the only way I can continue winning against it, as my consultant made very clear, ‘is to keep eating and working with those around me to win against it’. 

Thank you to everyone who has supported me along the way, and my hero of a nurse, Sharon. Now the hard work really begins…