When I got to 39 kg I entered the psychiatric hospital. It was on the 18th of January 2019. I remember laying in my bed while my mom said "you're going to the hospital from tomorrow". I wanted to runaway, I was not crazy, I was not meant to be in a psychiatric hospital with ill people.
I cried for the whole first day there. I couldn't even talk. There was a kitchen, a tv room and bedrooms. I had to stay in the tv room for two hours after each meal to make sure that I wouldn't make myself throw up when I get back in my room. I was alone, I didn't know anybody, I didn't trust the doctors. I ate as much as I could at every meal, and every time my mom came to visit me I asked her to bring me food so I could eat, gain weight and leave. I went back to school the next Tuesday. I could finally eat at my house, eat some decent food, and of course I had to take dietary supplements that the hospital prescribed me. That was disgusting. It was too sweat, and the taste was awful. Going back to school was the only thing that I was hoping for. I wanted to see my friends and my mom, I felt like I was in jail up there, I would do anything to get out even for 5 minutes.
I got weighted on the next Friday to see if I could get out of here. I had to weight 40.500. The night before, I drank a litter of water because I knew that it wouldn't be enough. When I got on the weighting machine, I didn't want to see the number. When I looked down and saw "40.600" I almost fainted, because I was sure that it wasn't enough, but it was. I think that I've rarely been so happy. I started crying and hugging the nurse. I thanked god, even tho I don't really believe in it. I finally saw the end of the tunnel. I was finally going back home.
A couple of weeks after I got out of the hospital I attempted for the second time. It was in February, after the holidays. I couldn't sleep, it was my first insomnia like this. I didn't have my phone or my computer. I tried to sleep from 11pm to 3am, knowing I wouldn't sleep before I go to school. I had a big panic attack. I cried and yelled for hours, grabbing and scratching my belly and thighs as if I could get rid of all this fat. I got out of my bed and grabbed a razor blade and the few medicines I had in my room. I took all of them and cut my leg as deep as I could. I put all of the rage I've ever had in it. I've never seen that much blood coming out of my leg. My eyes felt huge because of the medicines, I knew it would never kill me, it wasn't enough, I just wanted it to make me sleep. I roughly put a tissue over my leg so the blood wouldn't get on the bedsheets, I didn't want my mom to know about it. Thanks to the blood I lost, the medicines I took and how much I cried I fell asleep without even trying. I was exhausted.
It was the last time I harmed. Everything finally got back to normal after this, for good.
