It has been almost a year and a half since I stopped going to the Children’s Hospital and seeing my therapist. Recent events have made me realize that I still need help. I’m fighting this all on my own and I don’t know what to do. I only know how to be disordered. I don’t know how to fight it. I left Children’s because the people there were doing absolutely nothing to help me, but what I should have done was ask for a different specialist and a different dietician. I didn’t know that was okay and didn’t find out for a long time. I didn’t know that you don’t have to stick with the doctor they assign you. I should have been more open with my therapist but every time I was there I felt like I didn’t really have a problem and didn’t really need to be there. I felt like I was taking away time from someone who actually was sick. So I didn’t say much. If I said something that had effected me greatly and still was bothering me I would follow up by saying that I was coping with it and didn’t really think about it anymore.
That being said, I know I won’t go seeking treatment. I won’t go up to my mom and tell her I’m not really better and need to get some help. I can’t go to a doctor because my weight is high enough that they would wave me on telling me I didn’t know what I was talking about and that I was completely recovered. I can’t go to a therapist because I would get only a few sessions in before leaving for college and I would feel the same now as I did back then. In college I won’t be able to find anyone who will know how to deal with an eating disorder. I won’t be able to afford any kind of treatment for a very, very long time.
When I was in treatment, I made it my goal to get out as fast as possible. I knew that my eating disorder was very expensive and college was only two years away. There was a $20 copay for every person we would have to see, which meant we were paying $60 a week not including gas to and from the hospital, which was an hour drive each way on a good day. We would have to find a babysitter for my brother and my mom would have to have everything done for the evening because we would be gone for a very long time. Grocery bills were more expensive because food was actually being eaten by me.
I was in treatment for less than a year because I wanted out ASAP so that we wouldn’t have to pay anymore. My parents are separated, pending divorce, and my father has not and will not contribute any money or support with my recovery, so my mom had to deal with it all. I stopped talking about it around her, mostly because she doesn’t understand, and also because I didn’t want her to worry about it.
I’m going to have to work in college along with taking a full course load (signing up on Friday. If I take the full course load every quarter I can graduate 2 quarters early and save money, plus get as much for the ridiculous tuition rate as possible) and planning a wedding (found a venue, looking for a photographer and celebrant/officiant. Post on that later). I won’t have time for any kind of treatment, nor will I have the money. I’ll be two hours away from my normal doctor and I don’t have a car so I couldn’t get home to see them if I wanted to. After getting married next year I won’t be on my mom’s insurance anymore and will have to have insurance but it will be too little to cover any kind of treatment to where we could afford it.
I like to believe I’m better. There is a voice in my head telling me to stop it; that I am better and don’t need any help. I don’t like asking for help. I don’t like asking for anything. I always tell myself I don’t need it so I don’t have to ask for it. I tell myself it will inconvenience everyone involved in the biggest possible way, so I don’t. That’s why I feel that way.
Maybe I am at a point where I can fight it on my own, but I did just say that I don’t know how.