I was encouraged to start writing my thoughts down sometime last year in order to help me cope with All The Things. I didn’t post on here again after the last post as it got so chaotic I didn’t have time and then I was just too broken to say anything.
Her first admission coincided with my starting university. Her second admission coincided with the start of semester 2. Her third admission coincided with exam block. I was up to my eyebrows in study, trying to do normal parenting stuff..and abnormal parenting stuff (abnormal being psych visits for all the kids, fighting in courts and just generally not the stuff you think of parents doing) and her rather rapid descent into mayhem.
She got told she wasn’t ill enough to be admitted on the Friday. On the Monday….. she was . She lost a large number of kg’s over the weekend. Consumed 1.5 litres of cooking oil and sugar, and collapsed every time she stood up. Finished my exam, picked her up, took her to the ED and told them I wasn’t taking her home. Initially there was some resistance… until they weighed her and checked her BP. Then they kept her in.
This time she had a nasogastric tube passed.
I’m still rather concerned over the crap some of the nurses did. One told her how many calories was in the feed. Then told her they were increasing it. You Don’t TELL them. They told her how much she weighed. She wasn’t accompanied to the toilet until I pointed out she has bulimia! One nurse spent 8 hrs straight telling her all she had to do was find Jesus. Another one tried to take over her community care. That one was then told she couldn’t enter the room again.
Something clicked in that admission though. She recovered, she came home and it’s been a while since the alien has shown it’s ugly head.
But
now
it’s
back.
She’s been trying really hard and I am immensely proud of all she has achieved . Food started going missing again but this time she asked me to lock food away. She is binge/purging again but she asked to go to the dr.
This is her second/third small relapse since discharge. The first one hit me hard. I had stupidly thought that the road would be fairly smooth (yeah, yeah, I know) so I internally started panicking when she started to head down again. This time round I just feel- resigned- which feels rubbish but there’s nothing I can do. I can watch her. I can take her to the dr, the psychologist, wherever… but ultimately, I’m just the little dutch boy with his finger in the dyke trying to stop the flood. If she is ready to beat it again, she will. If she isn’t, she won’t and I will have to cope and pick up all the pieces. Again.
I made the mistake of reactivating my instagram account. Mistake because her account is one it’s suggested I follow. She has been keeping a recovery blog, helps keep her accountable. Reading through some of her posts………. I decided, I don’t want to know. If she wants me to know, I’m here, otherwise it feels like an invasion of privacy. So I’m going to forget I have that account for a while.
because
I’m tired and I have enough on my plate without going looking for more.
meanderingthoughts2310 