Okay.... here we go.

Everyone. Get ready to read a novella. Because these past two days have been much too wild to miss any details. Where to start, where to start!!! (At the very beginning, a very good place to start?) So, lets just say something happened on Tuesday morning that set me off. A "triggering event" per say. And it led to me and my case manager getting into a huge argument, Her trying to take my phone, AGAIN. And essentially telling me that UNTIL I give my phone up I will be non compliant, even if I'm eating, using no behaviors, all that good crap. So I was incredibly upset, kinda yelled. She ignored me and left. At this point. I'm done. I am tired of not being heard. I feel trapped. I am treatment fatigued. I don't care anymore. I want my eating disorder back. My mental stability is AT A ZERO. So I start packing. So I skip snack. And group, after group, after group. Because I literally set up a plan that I was leaving today. I'm a nineteen year old girl who is about to be homeless, googling abandoned places in Boston, MA that I'd be able to sleep in. Ripping paper decorations off my walls and shoving them into my backpack. RC's kept telling me my team needed a "real" plan or I wouldn't be allowed to leave. But I didn't have a plan. I couldn't go home. I had $30 in my bank account. I had friends near here but they wouldn't let me stay long term. Maybe I could find a place to sleep in a church at night? I wouldn't go to a homeless shelter. But I couldn't stay here. I couldn't/CANT do it. My room mates told me to re think, my brother and mother were texting me begging me to rationally think this through. But I hadn't changed my mind about this the whole day. I was leaving. It didn't matter to me anymore. I waited ALL DAY today. With everything but my bed spread packed for my team to meet with me. At 4:30p they came to me and told me that I could not leave. If I left, there may be safety concerns and they could section me. My mother deactivated my bank account so I did not even have the $30. I had nothing but the clothes on my back, and was about to be sent to a psych ward if I took a step out of the door. So my team left my room and I SOBBED while unpacking. I sobbed because I hate being in treatment right now. I sobbed because I can no longer sit through six groups a day. I sobbed because my mood has never been so bad as it is not. And I sobbed because I don't want people to care. I felt better two weeks ago when I was feeling alone then I do now when everyone's supporting me and trying to help. I don't want my family to care so much that they take these extra measures to make sure I stay. I don't want these texts begging me "please Belle. Please." We love you. I wish I could be alone in my own destruction. I don't need people to care right now. It will only hurt you in the end. And I don't want to be responsible for that. Overall rating of these two days. Honestly, a zero.

#Recover #Recovery #Treatment #Mentalillness #Eatingdisorder