You will never know how hard it is for me to take you back to that place, to see and feel you start to shake as your allotted time away from the unit draws to a close and we have to go back. You will never see the tears that pour down my face as I walk away from you, knowing how hard you find it in there. You will never see me sitting in my car and just sobbing, or the times I don’t even make it into the car and just sit on the road and cry.
When I’m with you I have to ‘be strong’ and not hear that you don’t want the food and that they are making you eat too much. I can’t let you see how I’m struggling with the dietitian and what seem to be petty game plays from her because I believe in some of what she’s saying but not in her delivery. I have to ignore you saying you want to come home because I sit with you through at least one meal a day and sweetheart, if you come home now, you’ll be back in within a week because food is still the enemy in your head.
If I had a magic wand, I’d wave it around and make you better. You have no idea how much I wish I could do just that. I wish, I wish so much that there was a tablet you could take that would make this all better. I wish I could find the words or find the people who had the words that would switch off that part of your brain which is using food as a weapon against yourself.
I want my child back. I want her well and healthy and happy. I hate being the person that has to take her to hospital but I’d hate to be the person who didn’t when she needed to more.
I’m so tired.
I’m so alone. Relatives of alcoholics get support, why is there nothing for relatives of people with eating disorders?
I hate bulimia.