It’s Physically Painful
I can only compare this to how it feels to have a bad bad breakup. A divorce. I love Frank. I had no idea how much I loved him until I came here. I don’t want this to end yet.
I feel so alone. I want letters or something. I need my friends and family now that Frank has left me. Or rather, I’ve left him.
It’s family week here; people have siblings and spouses and parents and cousins coming and going and I’m alone. I try to distract myself with reading and writing and playing Scrabble. I’ve been sleeping whenever I can. I’m still certain that starting Monday would’ve been a better choice. Monday isn’t family week. And there’s too much free time on the weekends.
Tonight was a little traumatic at dinner. I’m still “refeeding” so my portion was tiny. I was still hungry, so I asked for more. They said I could have a little extra so I got a little extra and planned to just eat a few bites until the hunger pangs subsided… I didn’t know that I’d have to finish EVERYTHING that was on my plate. I wouldn’t finish it because I ran out of time, so I had to drink a supplement. What bothered me was that I wasn’t told that if I asked for extra that I had to eat EVERYTHING THAT WAS GIVEN TO ME.
All I learned there was that asking for extra food is stupid, even if you think you’re hungry.
Now that I think about it I was probably just thirsty. My water is “plated” (plated means that the dieticians tell you exactly how much of something you can have and it’s served to you. It’s nice because you don’t have to think about it, but it sucks because you can’t have extra water.) So I only get 8 oz of water at meals and snacks. My head is throbbing and I think it’s from being dehydrated. I know they have to be careful because I’m malnourished, but that seems excessive.
I thought I was ready to be here and I’m definitely not. Which terrifies me. I don’t want to do this twice—it’s a waste of money. And if I’m here and doing the work but not ready, what if I relapse? And I can’t MAKE myself be ready.
I’m angry and feeling forced. Everyone wants me to be ready NOW and gives me all these reasons why I should be and . . . .I’m just NOT.
All I can think about is getting out and reuniting with my love, my lovely Frank.
I’m so alone. I’m so angry.