Relapse;Signs

Butterfly Effect

(Title and end lyrics from Reflections)

Finally the school let out for spring break, which meant I had a week off, and that also meant it was time to see the relatives again. Mom loved to drag the family to my grandmother's place every year, just to visit. I mean don't get me wrong, it's not bad, it's just, well, awkward. I mean now it'll be even more awkward because well, I've become a walking skeleton and I know we spend at least one day with the whole family, which meant that damn uncle that caused this. I really wanted to stay behind this year to just avoid any of the shit that could go down, but alas, mom forced me to go, because well, it was important to her that I see the family to, even at this state, to which I told her: "Good luck". I mean they're gonna comment on my body, for sure, I literally look like I'm knocking on death's door right now. That part became dreaded, I hated when people pointed out I was sick, because, well, I knew I was sick, I know I'm sick and people's comments truly never did help me in any sense whatsoever. They just sort of ingrained what I already knew. This whole thing was going to be a bust for sure, I knew it would be, but I'm being dragged along anyway. One, probably for health, because if I was alone and my body would finally quit on itself, I wouldn't have anyone who would know, or I'd not be able to call for help either. Two, just to make it seem like I wasn't problematic, and just for family reasons. Whenever we go over to any sort of relative's place there was always a gathering, and food, there was always fucking food, and I hated it because none of it was safe at all either, it was all just disgustingly high calorie foods that I couldn't even stomach anyway. I've just fucked my body up to the point of no return, which at this point didn't scare me, I mean ok, it did, and I want to get better, but I mean like, I've become so used to the feelings of starving that I didn't care anymore. I was just trying to find a way to survive right now, until I find the ability to live again, which I hope will happen soon because mom's actually going to look into getting help for me now, we've been looking at clinics and therapy offices, she refuses for me to be pulled from school though, so I can't go inpatient or be sectioned somehow, she avoided those ropes every time I ended up in the ER. It sort of sucked knowing that I won't be able to get all the help that I need but knowing that I'll at least have some, and knowing that I'll have a doctor there to guide me a bit will ease my fear of my body shutting down on me. After this weekend with the relatives mom promised she'd take me to a doctor, finally, and I'd get real guidelines on how to help myself. It was a step up from anything else. I mean yeah I'm not in inpatient but I mean, they're not the best at treating severe eating disorders anyway, it's more just to throw a kid in there, weight restore them as fast as possible and send them on their merry way, and most people will relapse because none of the mental aspect is worked on. It's bullshit to me, one week in inpatient was dumb already, and being sectioned sounds like pure hell as well. In a way I'm glad mom decided to not go through with inpatient treatment, I probably would've ended up a whole lot worse than I am now.

We were getting ready to make our way out to drive up to grandma's, again actually. Which was four hours of torture in my opinion, and we'd for sure stop for food on the way, which scared the fuck out of me. I spent the whole morning eating a bowl of oatmeal and researching calories of different fast food places and writing down exactly which ones were safe, and safe things from other restaurants. This shit is wild, let me tell you. The obsessions are insane for sure, but I mean, they're getting easier to manage, I guess. Fighting them is hard for sure, but if I want to live life, it has to stop. It took me like an hour to finish the bowl, but hey, I finished it without discomfort. I was sort of dreading the re-feeding process in this sense, as the discomfort at maintenance was almost unbearable already, but my body was all sorts of fucked up already, and even though now I'm attempting to manage my health, I've already fucked my body up into all sorts of ineffable things. I could feel my body breaking for sure, but hey, better late than never.