The days are melting into one. I’ve been stuck on the ward (98% of the time in my room) for 3 weeks 3 days and I’m beyond fed up. All I can think about is ending my life, all day, everyday. I don’t want to. I don’t want to put my loved ones through that horrendous devastation of pain, but I feel like I’m trapped in a corner with no alternative.

I can’t see a way forwards in this hell. I hate the weight gain as it is, so the thought of gaining 4 more BMI points is unimaginable. Speaking of which, my meal plan got increased again today (starting tomorrow) and I’m dreading it already. If I don’t complete it, they’ll NG me.

Staff know how hard I’m finding this and have had me on 2:1 obs since that CPA. I understand why they’re doing it, but I don’t see the point. I won’t cope with the weight gain and all its associations. Maybe I won’t ever get better, I’ve come to accept this possibility. I don’t like it, but it might be my reality. The fear of facing my demons is far scarier than a life consumed by anorexia. It’s a sad reality tbh.

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