I've been found out.
The unit I have been attending for treatment for the last four weeks demand regular ECGs and blood tests.
Although I have been complying with their re feeding stuff when I'm there, outside of the unit I have been over compensating to such a great extent that this week I weighed less than when I started.
I have been cheating their scales very well up until a spot weigh on Friday.
At about half past seven on Wednesday evening I missed a call from a doctor who left a message asking me to phone back to confirm that I was being followed up by the ED unit.
My most recent ECG showed that my pulse was under 40.
I know my weight has been under 5 stone for some time and has dropped significantly.
I have been informed that if my weight does not increase this weekend then more energy will be packed into me during the day and I may well face hospitalisation.
The terror of the situation has driven me to eat like I haven't eaten for a long time. And yes, the food is lovely but the torture and the panic and pain
of re-feeding is almost overwhelming.
The pain of the swelling in my hands woke me at five thirty this morning.
My feet are purple.
My body aches.
I am drained beyond belief.
Until now, I have managed to maintain such composure within the group.
They value my support but I have not been able to be truly honest with them or accept any real support from them.
The Woman suggests that this is all defence, denial even.
I know she is right.
I have never been so grateful for her.
Clocks go forward tonight and, one hour earlier, tomorrow
brings the fresh prospect of sunshine and an endless stream of food to make me feel more swollen, bloated and out of control.
I have been strapped into a rollercoaster which has jerked forward unsteadily and set off to a slow roll.
The screeching and grinding of the steel on the old metal tracks is drowning out my shouts as I try to tell them I want to get off.
Can you stop it..? Please. I need to get off. I changed my mind I want to get off stop Please PLEASE LET ME OFF.