An ugly bird at that (we’re talking pigeon style – sorry any pigeon birds out there, as opposed to the dove or robin I’d like to be), but she’s free nonetheless. 😊
I never really appreciated how soft, but embracing my double duvet was until last night! My first night at home in 9 weeks and 4 days (not that I was counting). The duvets on the ward have a plasticky coating on to prevent fire risks, and the duvet cover always, always slips off… so it used to make me cringe when you’d wake in the middle of the night, your feet making contact with the plasticky inside bit of the duvet that hundreds of other people would have slept under, from which the cover had snaked it’s way off, rising up so there was a saggy bit of material at the top, the bit I like to cuddle and cling on to. (can tell I’m still single can’t you…)
Don’t get me wrong, I fully appreciated HUGELY the extra support I have been given as an inpatient for the past few months… but boy was I ready to come home. Yesterday I had my review, and it was pre-planned that as of then, I would be able to go on ‘extended home leave’ for a week before my discharge next Tuesday. So unless something drastically went wrong, in terms of suicidal thoughts and any behaviours trickling in again, I basically see myself as discharged now, just not officially. Oh, and you are also looking at an ‘informal’ girl! Yep, I was discharged from my section too – so now the mental health services don’t have a legal hold over me and I am free to make my own decisions. Which is very empowering!
So when I say I’m ready to come home… I realised that I had been helped as much as I could there. I was ready to have a proper go at ‘life’ stuff again, because it actually becomes depressing when you don’t have the freedom or responsibilities, when you feel more stable and safe with yourself.
My Bulimia isn’t cured… I’m still, disheartingly in early days of recovery again. Being on the ward had actually made it worse at times, because I’d start thinking of food more, and (rightly so) food is often left out… such as biscuits, and leftover meals… leftover cake. After my months and months in and out of eating disorder units, this is still a bit of a shock to the system to get my head around. I was used to being on a ward with a locked kitchen for so long, when every snack and meal was planned for the week. Here I can come and go, taking more or less as much food as my head manipulated into me wanting at any given time.
The amount of bread and butter portions I smuggled to my bedroom, under my top, I’m ashamed to say, is utterly embarrassing. But I’m sharing this here to be fully transparent with you, because I have nothing to hide. Everything experienced should be talked about so we can all learn from each other.
I also smuggled leftover meals and cake a LOT.. because my head didn’t know how else to cope, or how to tolerate the body I currently am in. (I’m working at this being at peace thing with where I’m at, don’t worry) So yeah things kind of escalated, so now I am all unpacked at home (I seemed to have moved every person down my street’s belongings with me to the unit) and I feel like I can breathe again. I was craving that homely-ness, the sense of routine and independence.
And I’m satisfied that craving has been fulfilled, hopefully batting away the unhealthy urges and cravings. (touch wood)
Tommorrow… is… PUPPY DAY!!!