Lil Miss Allergies

I awake this morning dizzy and nauseous.
Heading to the bathroom I'm bent over the toilet bowl trying my best not to throw up. Every fiber in my being says that action is wrong and is solely associated with ED behavior. So I I suffer and go against my body's natural reaction to sickness.
I'm not in a good place today with my Eating Disorder. ED is furious.
I've been eating more these days, my guard has been let down on account of all the good news that's been hitting me in waves..and as a result of actual ingestion of food my weight is starting to creep back up. I've managed to be 21 days Bulimia free, but that's on the the back burner because I can't seem to focus on the small victories, I can only focus on my sudden feeling of failing.
I weigh and there it is, gain. Fuck.
In the cold room's background I hear my alarm clock buzz and a stir from both my daughter and husband.
Suddenly the alarm goes silent.
I take my meds and vitamins.
I search the basket that holds all the various bottles of things I take on a daily basis, I'm in search for two little blue pills.
Water Pills, the last two in my possession, I'm incredibly bloated and need some release.
All my pills start to make me sick and the feeling of purging returns.

My husband is mad this morning, I hear him in the other room saying something that sounds like "stop that."
I go investigate and find my daughter's face a fright.
Her right eye is completely swollen shut. Yesterday it was puffy somewhat, an allergic reaction to something.
I never thought it could get this bad.
My husband is bitching at her for rubbing her eye. She can't help it, it itches and she's uncomfortable, she is only seven.
We're out of Benadryl, I tell him that's all she needs, it will help her. He ignores me.
My daughter heads to the bathroom to brush her teeth and start the school routine.
My husband is fuming.

My ED is out of control today. I am in all kinds of pain. My kidney throbs in agony.
Drinking on an empty stomach is killing me.
It hurts to move.
My head is loud with feelings of failure. Why did I eat? What am I doing?
God I'm so FAT!

My daughter keeps rubbing her eyes and my husband keeps barking at her to stop.
"She needs to go to the hospital now."
Here we go.
What hospital?
My kid's insurance is all screwed up, I can't switch her HMO until May. Her real Pediatrician and clinic are no longer taking my current insurance on account of budget cuts and new reform.
Her new insurance keeps referring her to a clinic in Coral Gables. This place only cares about cashing in, they don't have specialists or doctors that know our history. If I take her to any other hospital they are going to bill me and then I have to fight with Medicaid and try to dispute it.
He doesn't understand this, it's complicated.
"So, I don't care." he then turns to my daughter and bitches at her again.
"Stop rubbing your eyes, see how it got because you keep doing that!"
My daughter starts to cry and now so do I.
I tell him we'll go.
I comfort my daughter and dress her.
My husband is walking around with this face that screams I'm pissed off.
It's very intimidating, he looks so mad like he wants to hit something or someone.
After my daughter is dressed, I fix her a bag, it will be along day in the hospital and she needs to be ready.
She needs to dress warm, and plenty of things to occupy her.
My husband keeps on and I finally snap and bitch back.
He says I'm hysterical, we fight for a full minute before I tell him to just STFU and call her school to report the absence.
My daughter wants breakfast, I tell her to wait on the couch while I get dressed.
She looks miserable and confused.
I close the bathroom door and have my meltdown.
I'm suddenly feeling everything at once.
I feel like an awful mother because I'm too calm, why am I not a hysterical like him?
I hate that she's sick and I can't do a thing to make it all better.
I feel mad at my husband for always saying all the wrong things.
I feel like a failure.
I've gained weight, whether it's actual or not I don't know.
All I can think about is b/p and taking 40 laxatives before bed, or possibly all week. Diuretics and over exercising, restricting food or denying myself it all together. Everything and anything to get this weight off.
I make my daughter breakfast while my husband suddenly starts changing his tune and calming down.
While she eats I make the beds.
I holler in pain as I bend over to reach for a pillow.
I don't understand this new kidney pain.
It hurts to actually straighten myself up.
My phosphates in my kidneys are actually high on account of all the b/p and laxative abuse. Dehydration helps nothing.

Today was suppose to be different, last night my husband decided to start talking to me after ignoring since I got the good news that I was moving.
He actually started to talk about what his plans were after we separate.
He was moving out and on and wished me all the best in my new life.
Even said something like "I'll never rent again, I'm going to buy a condo."
Well isn't that just fancy, excuse me while I go back to low class quarters with the rest of the commoners.
Our income tax return is actually ready to be picked up from the tax place.

Yes today was suppose to be different.

We're out the door and now my husband is cracking jokes in the car.
He has to be Bipolar.
"I think these hospital trips are kinda exciting, don't you like them?"
What?
No.
I don't like hospitals why would I?
I practically grew up in one.
I lost both my parents in one on account of Cancer.
Chemotherapy, surgeries, appointments and emergency room visits. Let's not even get started on how many times I was in a hospital because of my mother's drunken stupors and falls that resulted in her splitting her head open.
How about my own visits, heart murmur specialists, nose bleeds for no reason, eye and throat infections, and of course complications because of ED.
No I repeat I don't like hospitals.
I am certainly not too pleased to pass down all this insanity to my daughter.

Parking is no fun when you have a backseat driver pointing to spaces your car cannot possibly fit into.
I wish he would just respect any decision I make.
My husband makes me feel like a little child at times, he makes me feel like I'm eight years old all over again.
Like when I was eight and my father would cut up my steak for me into pieces.
We arrive at the E.R ward and the long day continues.
Lots of tests done and no answers.
All they could come up with is an allergic reaction to something.
They pump my kid full of steroids and Benadryl.
She's sent home with recommendations to specialists for her allergies and a note for missing class. Rx's for nose and eye drops too.
We eventually manage to make it to the tax office and then the bank before heading home.
I'm tired and I'm going to go lay with my kid for awhile.
My husband brought Burger King home.
I ate it and didn't purge.
I have horrible anxiety now.
I feel so full and stupid for eating it.
Hours have passed since then and I'm getting over it.
I keep telling myself this..
I'll be okay, its just weight,
It goes up and down, that's the thing about change, it's inevitable.
I feel selfish and vain because I worry about stupid things like food and numbers.
I'm pissed today but I'm working on it.
I feel amazing that I didn't purge, I resisted and actually kept food down.
I'm going to start writing down true goals that aren't related to weight loss and try my hardest to bring them to fruition.
I have to get in touch with that non disordered side of me that's in there somewhere. I can do this.