Inpatient? More like IMPATIENT Amiright?!

I don’t know. I’m sleep deprived.

Okay onto the post:

So I was weighing my options today. With the feelings of “I’d rather be dead” and “I hate being alive” and “no one would miss me” resurfacing, slightly, the knowledge that revealing these feelings to the wrong person could land me in inpatient again.

Of course I don’t want to be inpatient again. Just knowing that I needed it makes me sad. I see it as a suicide procrastinating house instead of something that really helps. How unfortunate.

Also unfortunate is that some of the things that make me hate the hospital make me love the hospital. For example: the structure and routine. I’m forced to wake up at 6 or 6:30 am every morning for vitals and weight and a doctor’s visit (why psych doctors think they’ll get anything out of me that buttcrack early is beyond me). This early morning leaves me in a convenient, mostly thoughtless fog. When this fog starts wearing off around breakfast time, I’m given my morning meds. With the dose of meds comes another dose of fog.

Being hazy helps me stay out of trouble while I’m there (trouble like puking, cutting, or having a temper tantrum can all end up making my stay longer). Also, it helps me spew my plans for coping skills and safe places to the nurses and therapists that I hate. This way, I get out faster. So I’ve gained a few days’ break and the right to tell my job and school “I’m crazy go easy on me,” but no real long-term benefits outside of bad memories and a feelings of failure, shame, and worthlessness.

Once upon a time, during my first psych ward stay, we were doing vitals with a young nurse. She told us we shouldn’t be so stressed out, angry , and sad. She was the one working full time and planning a wedding. Look, lady, not ok. Most of us had never felt loved or that our time and effort at work or school was valued and you’re complaining about these things?

Now I’m the one working 50 hours, planning a wedding (admittedly slowly), all on top of trying to graduate college ON TOP OF a biological predisposition to mental instability, breakdowns, and piss-poor “coping skills.” It’s really a wonder how I’m not dead yet.

 

Bit of a Food Rant

Dieting is so hard. I use that word, dieting, very broadly, for we’ve all been told that how we change our diet is more of a lifestyle change. The word “diet” has a bad flavor to it. Like, “Oh, she’s on one of those weird ‘no carb’ diets. I’ll give her a week.” Now, being in and out of various inpatient and outpatient treatment places for the mind, I have a special issue with the use of the word “diet.” It all started with a diet, afterall. One day in fifth grade my friend (who had the same name as me, too) said she was fat and decided not to eat her french fries. Now, she was smaller than me, and me being me with my low self esteem, I looked up to her and thought, “Well, if she’s fat I’m fat and I should diet, too.”

My weird food things started earlier than that, but that moment was when I really began to dislike mirrors, dressing rooms, cheesy/fried dinners and what not. I remember the first time I skipped lunch… My dad told me that when I was six and visiting him in Virginia, his new wife, my stepmom, made brownies. I said I would only eat them if I ran laps around the apartment’s tennis courts. It was nighttime, he said no, and I ate the brownies anyway. Wow I got sidetracked. It’s worse than usual because I have so much to say about the subject. Well, moving on…

I started this post saying dieting is hard, because it is. I’m not going to blame media and society for making it hard, but seeing all those commericals and knowing so many people don’t care what they eat as long as it tastes good makes it sort of rough for me to stay on track. Keep in mind, I’m trying really hard to stay healthy. There are days when I don’t eat as much as I probably should, and when I work out a little harder than necessary, but overall I’m doing very well. I am recovered, you know.

Some days I want to throw in the towel and eat the WHOLE plate of country fried steak instead of taking the rest home, but I have to think moderation. And moderation is hard. It always seems to come back to moderation.

I have a very particular system with food. I wouldn’t call it disordered, but structured, rather. It’s what makes my “diet” easy and healthy; even on days where I want to give up. I’ve mastered my lethargy! Anyway, I have a set list of “diet staples.” These I always have on hand, and always take with me places in case of the emergency snack attack. I’ve planned them out very well. They include 1 fuji apple, 2 oz of sliced turkey, 2 slices of (whole grain) bread, 1 can of slimfast, 1 thingy (cup? bowl? package?) of Activia, 2 tsp whole flaxseed, and finally and favorite, 1 100 calorie pack of Emerald brand unsalted almonds and walnuts. I like to think these provide a solid base for any day’s intake needs. I have bunches of vitamins, minerals, and other good things like flavor for every day. It helps ward off the cravings.

I also buy frozen skillet meals (archer farms brand, usually, because it’s so delicious and usually pretty healthy/organic) and whole grain and/or enriched pasta etc. to prepackage for the week. That means once every week or so I go into the kitchen for an hour and a half, prepare a week’s worth of dinner, and portion it in little tupperwares so I have an easy dinner for when I’m really hungry after work or what have you. This way I’m not depending on snacks and slimfast to live off of. I also leave myself enough calories (I’m on myfitnesspal) to stop for a burger or margarita, because my fiance and I eat out a lot, and I’m always almost with friends somewhere with food.

That was such a lengthy post I apologize. I get wordy when I talk about food, and on here there’s no one to stop me! I could go on, so comment if you want more, or if you never want to hear from me again. That’d work, too.

Happy munchin’s!