Hi Tracy, I was on an ED unit in Feb...i

Hi Tracy, I was on an ED unit in Feb...it is the only ED hospital in New England and I can get there in one short bus ride. They take care/caid. They have a psych side and an ED side. I was twice on the ED side in 2010, once on the psych side last September (this was a good experience) and this last time on the ED side again. The doctor/nurse practitioner assigned to me this last time never, ever read my chart. What mattered was weight and that was all. She never saw the blood tests or told me the results of the neuro exam even when I asked her to go look in my chart and just open the notebook for a change. She knew shockingly little about the medications I took, didn't know doses or side effects, was not aware of interactions (I had to point these out) and didn't know how to titrate. Never mind human rights abuses on the unit, including monitoring and censorship of every conversation we had. I went there in the first place because otherwise, I would have died, but ended up really kicking arse about human rights while I was there and finally had food in me enough to speak my mind. I don't think they'll let me back there. Late in 2010 for a couple of months I was doing well and working in my own way, not in any program, just therapy...my T treated me like an adult. Now and then she'd ask me what my weight was and made sure I was eating okay, and there was trust and respect between us. No grilling, no accusations, no threats. She was not an ED specialist but knew about ED. She was brilliant at art therapy. It would have been great if it had lasted, but she got laid off. I got this new private practice therapist who took care/caid and was a specialist. She saw me within the framework of her training. So she was taught that all people with anorexia throw up their food. She saw me coming in there and eating lunch before our appointments, and she was under the assumption that before I walked into her office, I went to the bathroom every time and threw it up. This was never part of my repertoire of behaviors, which I made clear from the beginning, but her training told her that all people with anorexia can't be trusted to tell the truth about anything, ever. Then when I told her I was a runner, and that running helped me take pride in my body and feel strong and fit, there was immediately a problem, because her training told her that running always equals overexercising. I ran my first 5k, one of my big accomplishments. This was huge, a big moment for me. It was like triumph over my ED. All she did was to put me down and invalidate me. Yoga, apparently, is the stereotype "healthy exercise" for people like us, the "good" exercise, and running is "bad," always, period. She said she refused to see me unless I had my weight checked once a week by my PCP, because I guess that was her training, that all ED patients should have this done and all ED patients were alike. Our relationship from the start was based on lack of trust and disrespect. It breaks my heart that such a dedicated, compassionate and skilled therapist...she was nice, too...what a shame. I put up with a year of being with her and saw that I'd gone downhill and downhill...I fired her. I am free of her at last, but in bad, bad shape right now. I have Medicare Part D and that pays for meds, right now about a dollar a bottle. My insurance covers my psychiatrist and I like her, but I don't dare walk into her office for fear that I'll lose it and start crying, maybe tell her too much about what's been going on, and that will be that...Section 12, as we call it in Massachusetts. I told myself I'd get the bingeing under control somehow and then I'd allow myself to go see her, the massive weight gain being so embarrassing as it is, but the bingeing never stopped. I can't freaking stop. I really think I am losing my mind, completely losing it, engaging in dangerous behaviors and it's just getting worse. One of the ministers at church is calling me today, so that's good. I haven't had human "out loud" conversation for days...nearly a week.