This Crazy Life

She’s done.  She wants to come home.  She hates her team.  They aren’t helping her.  She’s refusing to work with them.  Now don’t get me wrong, there have been several red flags.  Several things I’m not sure of.  But she’s eating.  She’s drinking.  Well, she was.  Until Friday.  And since then, it’s been one meal and one snack a day.  Because if I won’t discharge her then she wants to be sent to a different residential at a minimum.  She does not want to be here anymore.  And I don’t know how best to support her.  Do I bring her home?  Do I try a PHP?  Will she qualify for PHP?  Will she eat at home and PHP like she says she will?  Is this place actually really bad for her?  Or is her eating disorder just really upset?  How am I supposed to answer these questions.  I have zero idea.  My gut is literally torn and I’m making myself physically sick over it.  She has a birthday coming up.  She wants to be home for her birthday.  She says she wants to do things at home.  But I think the eating disorder is still in charge.  I think she wants her version of her eating disorder.  Where she has her cake and eats it too.  Which I mean, I wish she would!  But I think she plans on restricting her eating but also working on getting her life back.  At the same time.  Which would that even be that bad at this point?  Is it what I want for her?  No.  But if she eats enough to stay out of the hospital and do things maybe she’ll want a life again and maybe that will motivate her.  Or is that even possible?  Is the eating disorder too loud and we’ll be right back where we are in another 6 months.  I don’t know.  You don’t know.  The professionals don’t know and I’m 100% certain she doesn’t know.  So, what do I do today?  Do I work on pulling her?  Do I bring her home for her birthday?  Do I keep her in treatment.  I mean she’s not even eating.  I’m sure insurance will extend her date at this point.  But they aren’t even trying to support her.  She says they say nothing to her when she doesn’t complete.  They don’t try to coach her.  They don’t try to help her take a bite.  They do nothing.  But she is safe.  And her body was at least getting a break.  Ugh.  It’s decisions like these.  Decisions where no answer is right.  Where no answer feels good, that literally makes me want to run away.  Run away to a dark cave and never exit again.  Let someone else be in charge of her care.  Let someone else deal with the daily phone calls, the emails, the refusal calls.  Until then, I guess I’ll just breathe and think some more.  Nothing major is going to change today, or tomorrow, or in a week.  One way or another.