Relapse;Signs

Limbo

(title and end lyrics from Reflections) 

I ended up in the ER last night. Again, a few days after Adrian and I's little flip session into the pool. This time my heart rate was slow, and I had passed out again. Same diagnosis. Electrolytes were low, my body was failing, my organs were shutting down and I was dying. They begged me to get help, threatened me to get sectioned, and I so badly wanted to. I so badly wanted to get sectioned and to get help, but my parents refused. It was all just a "no, Allen can take care of himself" when clearly, I can't. I fucking can't take care of myself, I'm dying. Yet no one cares, no one sees it and I want to live. I want to get better, so desperately. I want to live again, as a human being, not caged, but free. Free of these damn obsessive thoughts. Free of all this shit. At an 11 BMI, yeah, my body was shutting down and I was going to die if I didn't gain. I ate just fine. I truly ate just fine, I made sure to have protein and all my electrolytes. I drank stuff that helped with that, I took multivitamins. I did everything, but still, I was dying because my body can't handle the strain of being this underweight. It couldn't do it. I didn't want to go to school today, I felt fucking sick as shit, and mom worked all day. I was left alone after 10 am, and I wanted breakfast, so I went downstairs into the kitchen. The dishes from the rest of my family were in the sink, and it bothered me, so I cleaned them up before anything else. The weather was starting to warm up again, and I was still extremely cold all the time, but I guess less cold? I don't know, it sucked. Walking hurts, and sitting does, and everything hurts. It's hard to just exist, and I truly wanted to gain back to at least 100 or 105, but triple digits made my brain fucking want to eat itself alive, as my body fought me, I fought myself. Everyday.

I cleaned up the plates and then made my bowl of oatmeal with protein powder to help my heart even in the slightest. I put the packet of oatmeal in the microwave with some water. (120). Once that was done I put in some protein powder (75 cals). Which made the whole thing 195. I added Stevia and some almond milk to put it at 200. I put the bowl on the table and made some tea and added lemon for a diuretic to rid of any water weight that my body was holding on to. I drank some of the tea and then sat at the table and started to slowly eat the oatmeal while scrolling on my phone. Food wasn't a fight for me anymore, it really wasn't. I wanted desperately to get better, but I could barely eat enough to gain anything, I fought to eat at maintenance level, as my stomach didn't know how to handle food anymore at this point. It took a while, but I finally finished the oatmeal bowl and then put it in the sink. I drank another cup of tea to help calm my stomach, and then I walked back upstairs. I knew I needed to go and get some more electrolyte shit to try and avoid another ER visit, but they see me so frequently now they just sort of sigh when I end up there again. I get looks of pity, disgust, and everything else. It's sad. I know people see me and feel such pity for the shape I'm in. I hated pity, so much, it made me sad to see others care. Truly I just wanted to be able to get help, without being pitied and without having to almost die, like last time. The day felt boring and dull for sure, the sky was gray, the temperature lower than it was normally. I change my pants and pull on a hoodie, Oliver might want to come help me with groceries. I had money for it, and I needed to replenish my stuff, because mother refused to buy the stuff I need for my health. Truly it's a fight, in a sense she wants me to stay sick, to show her problem child, but when I was young, she forced me to get better? It made no sense to me anymore, maybe she just gave up trying to help? I was so far gone anyway, death was more inevitable than anything else.

I decide to call up Oliver soon after to help with my errands, and I grab my phone and dial his number. He picks up soon after.
"Yeah, dude, what's up?" He asked, concerned for sure.

"Not much, I was hoping you could help me with groceries though." I say into the phone.

"I don't think I have much else to do, I'll be over in five then." He says and hangs up. I put my phone into my pocket and my wallet as well, then I head downstairs and put on my shoes and grab my keys, and sat on the couch while waiting for Oliver to arrive. It felt like ages, but he knocked and I quickly opened the door, and he walked inside.
"Yo, you ready yet?" He asked and I nodded, so we both headed out the front and once we were outside I locked the front door and headed to Oliver's car, and we both go inside. Oliver put his keys in and turned on the car. He backs out and starts driving.