Mealtimes and Milestones Read Online Free Page A

just couldn’t, it was too hard, and a complete lie to me. It’s all a lie.
    Saturday 11 August
    My parents arrived at 10 a.m. for their visit today. 9 I had to get my tube re-stuck on as the tape wasn’t sticky any more, so
they were waiting in reception for me. When I opened the door I found it really awkward. I knew that they were slightly anxious about seeing me in case I was angry with them for giving permission
to pass the NG tube. To be honest, I am a bit, but I was just so glad to see them. Whenever something painful has happened to me before Mum has always been there holding my hand, but this time she
hadn’t been there, which makes me feel even more lonely.
    When I left them to go into morning snacks, instead of having a green snack, I changed it for a blue and a red; 10 this was more manageable for me, because
it enabled me to have smaller mouthfuls. For me, it is more about the portion size, and not the calories, but while I have been here I seem to have developed an obsession with calories, because
here everything is so calorie controlled – it’s hard to avoid getting caught up in it. I guess I didn’t count them before because there wasn’t any real option at school to
know the calorific amount in the food; I just went on portion size, as that was much easier to reduce.
    I’ve tried different methods to disguise food for myself while I’ve been in the unit, to try to make myself think I’m eating less than I am, so I won’t get distressed
about it. One thing I do is wrap food up in other types of food. I did this at snacks this morning. I put pieces of chocolate inside a dried apricot. I guess I was trying to trick my mind into
thinking I was having less than I actually was. I finished my snack, but my guilty feelings just became too great. I walked out of the dining room and shut myself in the toilet. I couldn’t
believe I had been so stupid as to give in.
    ‘You’re a failure. You’ve betrayed me.’
    I didn’t deserve to eat food. So much for wanting to end my life; I had just got as far as possible away from doing that.
    ‘You stupid, stupid girl, you deserve to die, you’re nothing, nothing.’
    The voice kept on and on at me.
    I tried to compose myself as I went back to join my parents, but one of the nurses had seen that I had been crying and called me back and asked if I wanted to talk. We sat down, and I just felt
all of the emotions come back up again. I didn’t know what to do but cry. I possess so much self-hatred. I just want all these pressuring thoughts to disappear, and I want to be able to eat
some food, even a snack, without feeling the need to commit suicide afterwards. Is that really so much to ask for? My parents had seen me talking to the nurse so when I went back Mum opened her
arms out to me and gave me a big hug. I burst into tears again. I am fed up of this illness, I just want it to leave me alone, I want Mum to click her fingers and it all to go away, but it is never
going to be that simple, and the road of recovery that lies ahead of me is very long, very hard and very frightening if I choose to take it, and I am scared of embarking on it.
    Mum and Dad left at 5.45 p.m I was incredibly sad that they were leaving but also glad because they are quite ‘lovey-dovey’ parents, and because I am so self-conscious about my body
I don’t really feel comfortable with hugs, so I always get cross, but I don’t feel strong enough to say that to them in case they become cross with me. I would rather have a swift exit
than a ten-minute goodbye. I want to exert independence, and I don’t appreciate that much affection, especially when I want to die anyway. I know I should be able to accept affection, but I
just find it too hard.
    I ate about a third of my tea, but then I had to wait for my feed by tube, which just increased my anxieties. It was so much today, I was really down on calories. I cried the whole time that the
nurse was feeding me. I know that