The following are journal entries from my first stay at Cambridge Eating Disorder Center, from April to June of 2010.
Looking back on these entries now, it is very clear to me now that I was putting myself through unnecessary pain and suffering by ruminating on these negative feelings I experienced during the treatment/re-feeding process. Fat and sensations of fullness were the predominant ‘feelings’ I wrote about. Food and the program were my enemies because they were ripping my one crowning achievement, impossible thinness, away from me. Or so I thought.
Gaining weight is hard. I feel fat and uncomfortably slow.
My blood pressure wasn’t ‘good enough’ by CEDC standards to go on any sort of outing again.
This is frustrating; yet another reason my body is punishing me.
Still feel fat and full. The idea of gaining weight is terrifying and makes me angry, sad, and fills me with self-loathing.
I don’t like myself. In fact, I’m probably the only person on this earth I hate the most. I’m comforted by the self-abuse . . . starvation, self-injury, over-working and running my ass into the ground.
These things keep me sane, they make me feel good. Sitting around on my ass here makes me feel like a lazy fucking pig.
In reality, I was already chock-full of self-loathing and other assorted negative self-talk, but those feeling were easily ‘numbed out’ by the incredible forces of anorexia, self-injury, and substance abuse. As I went through treatment and my self-injurious behaviors were ‘taken away from me’, the real feelings of self-hatred that I had harbored for so long violently resurfaced and was evidenced by my behavior at CEDC. I was prone to outbursts of anger and rage, sometimes destroying property and verbally abusing the staff there. My anger became the incredible, seemingly unstoppable force that began to dictate my life as I fought my way through a crude form of recovery for a few years.