Yesterday was one of the most distressing days that i’ve had in a while.I skipped all meals and snacks starting with lunch. They are going to ask me today why I did that and I don’t have a good answer other than I just feel drained being around other people and anxiety is really high. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t like going to groups anymore because I don’t have anywhere to sit. Katy and Belle totally stole my couch and I can tell Ella isn’t all that keen on me sitting with her, maybe because I’m too fidgety or something. I don’t think she’s doing it to be mean or anything, I think maybe she just likes her space, which I get. But it leaves me feeling kind of pushed out of group and like I don’t have anywhere to go. It feels like a dumb thing to be upset about and it kind of is. And it’s not like I’m upset with any particular person or anything like that. I’m just frustrated by the overall situation.
Also, Chris’s groups are really hard. He always does really hard material and it’s just more than my brain can process at the moment. I’ve been ruminating on Danielle thoughts too much and there’s been too much daydreaming about things going back to the way they were. I know in reality that’s never going to happen and I should just let it go. That’s easier said than done though, I am still grieving in a big way with Danielle. I think that’s what triggered the anxiety yesterday. That and just not wanting to be around anyone. I was really sensitive to light and noise. Being in the cafe made me very uncomfortable and to be perfectly honest, I intended to skip lunch completely. I would have if Courtney hadn’t come and asked me to eat with her. There was nothing challenging about eating a quesadilla. It’s a simple food, I know what’s in it. It’s not a ton of calories, I don’t think anyway. So, yeh, kind of a wasted lunch with the dietician if you ask me. But she’s the expert.
I plan on asking Dr. Parsley to step down to PHP next Tuesday, the 26th, instead of waiting until June 1st. He’s going to ask why the change and I need to be prepared to give a good answer. I think I have several reasons. The biggest one is that when I made a pros and cons list I came up with over 40 reasons to step down to PHP and 9 reasons to stay. That’s pretty telling. I’m ready, I don’t need to take up space here any longer. Someone else needs this bed. Most of the challenges or reasons for wanting to stay don’t really make sense. And besides, I want to be free to move around.
Now the thing that I’m not going to tell them is that I plan to restrict even more in PHP. I’m going to disappear around meal times. I’m going to skip groups. I’m not going to eat HS snack, ever. I’m not going to cook for myself on the weekends. I have no intention of completing the program. As soon as I can, I’m going to quit. I just don’t think I’m ready for recovery. But let’s keep that a secret between you and me.
Recovery means giving up too much for me. If I made a pros and cons list for continuing the program and recovery, I would have 100 reasons to keep the ED and like 4 for recovery. It’s just a fact. I need to get back to life. I want my kid back. I want my home back. I want my pets back. And I want my body back. I don’t like the push-pull of trying to get better. I’d rather just let the ED pull me. It’s easier. I will never aim for a target weight of 150 lbs. That fact alone is enough for me to say, I don’t want recovery. There’s nothing in it for me. I can still keep my values (Juniper, primarily) and my ED. I don’t have to choose. I didn’t get very sick at all from the ED. I just need to up my caloric intake slightly and I’ll keep my organs working just fine. I intend to hide the ED much better this time and not get caught. I never want to find myself back here. I just want to go home. I want to be in charge of all the aspects of my life. I don’t need assistance from anyone. It’s always been just me. Well, now it’s me and Jude and I intend to take the best possible care of her that I can. I’m going to get the house paid off and work my ass off and try to save as much money as I can. I’m going to give juniper what she needs. No one else is going to do it. And I guess my radical acceptance of the month is: it’s on me. Danielle is gone. She’s not coming back. It’s on me.
The SI has improved. It’s not 100% better, but it’s been silenced enough that I can push through it and get through the day. I’m less impulsive, I don’t think I’ll hurt myself at home. The anxiety is bad, but that’s mostly because of how restricted my movement is. Once I get out of here and I’m able to use that energy for something else, I’ll be a lot happier and less anxious. Also, I’ve got this writing thing that I’m doing and quite enjoy, most of the time. I want to set up the blog and start posting. And maybe some readers somewhere will find me. I’m going to make it all organic and I’m not going to include many, if any pictures. I’m doing that on purpose. I don’t want to be a star, but I do want others that are dealing with similar issues to have something they can read. I want them to see the non-linear path that I’m on and not feel so alone. And at some point, I’d like to publish a book. I don’t know that my writing will ever be good enough for that. Danielle always kind of hated my writing. It’s not super technical, I don’t use super complex sentence structures or word play or anything specifically fantastic. But I have been writing brutally honest. More honest than I’ve ever been in my entire life. There’s something to be said for that. I think that’s why Against Me! was so popular and so good. Gut wrenching, disgustingly brutal, radical honesty. People dig that. It’s not sunshine and rainbows, because life isn’t sunshine and rainbows.
There are days when I’m going to do nothing but rant and rave and complain. There are days when I’m going to curl up under a blanket and hide like a mouse. And then there are going to be good days, where I have positive things to say. Where I feel like I want to recover and take steps towards that goal, maybe. But the thing that I do promise is that I’m not going to hold back any thoughts. I’m going to talk about myself and my experience in a way that is bold, radical and truthful. And if, by chance, some editor out there sees the blog and thinks there could be a book hidden in there, that would be great. And if not and I never have a single reader, that’s fine, too. The goal isn’t fame and fortune. My values have moved away from being rich or famous or important. My values are now about honesty and truth.
And the truth is, I have mental illness that I’m going to contend with for the rest of my life. It wasn’t diagnosed until I was 42 and we’re still figuring out exactly what it is and how to manage it. I don’t feel like we’ve gotten that much closer, but I do have hope that one day we will. And in the meantime, let this journal serve as a map of the journey. The only promise that I’ll make is that I’m going to always ask for help when I need it and will never abandon Juniper. She is my entire life. She’s the reason for waking up and the reason to fight. Because she needs someone strong to fight for her. My promise to her, before she was born, was that I would seek out and help her find every opportunity possibly available to her and I intend to do that.
So yeh, take from this what you will. I’m grey. Not good. Not bad. I just am. Today I just exist in the grey space of life. My colors may change throughout the day, week, month or year. But today I am grey and that’s ok. Onward.
Now it’s time to get up, make the bed, take a shower and push through this day. It’s going to be brutal, but I’m going to push through.
I wore a dress to sleep in last night and when Betty saw this morning she got all excited. She loves skirts and dresses. She even offered to let me borrow a short dress a few weeks ago. Maybe on my last day here I’ll take her up on the offer. But, she got all excited because she thought I was going to wear that today. I decided to be brave. I’m wearing my green skirt just for her. I’m not all that sure about the quality of my leg shaving, I may look like a wildebeest, but that’s just a risk I’m going to have to take. I do, however, wish I had some cute socks to wear with my mary janes. I’m over thinking this. No makeup today either. Going natural and practical, except the skirt, which I’ll probably change out of when they open rooms before lunch.
I can still taste a pill that got stuck in my mouth this morning and it’s disgusting. The kids are whispering in the corner, I wonder what secret plot they’re putting together. Maybe they’re going to burn this place down. Maybe they’ll start a riot, like they do in prison. Set some toilet paper on fire, throw it at the guards. Take them hostage and hold them in the group room until a list of demands are met. Real 2-ply toilet paper, 2 cups of coffee at breakfast and 1 cup for lunch, more outside time after each group, hoodies officially allowed in the cafe and last but not least, yoga for all, starting on day one and every single day. Is that too much to ask? Then one of the hostages goes down. Mind you, we’re not violent people, but we’ll use our secret stash of hair dye to turn their hair orange. Not blonde, fucking orange and burnt to a crisp, so there’s no fixing that shit. It’s going to be a long regrowing process that could take years. Nothing is worse than burnt orange hair. NOTHING. But that’s just an idea, not sure what they’re really talking about. Maybe it’s all phase II business. Maybe it’s vacation. I don’t know. I hate not being in on a secret. But it’s ok. They’re kids. I’m a grown up, automatic exclusion.
I feel like there’s going to be some hate that I’m stepping down without going to Phase II or III. Because Phase II and III are just an illusion of progress. They have nothing to do with the actual medical recommendations. That’s essentially what Dr. Parsley told me. But that doesn’t mean it won’t cause a stir. I almost want to be one of those, “Disappear in the morning without saying a word,” cases. Like, I’m not particularly close with anyone and I don’t think I’ll be missed. Actually, my negative attitude is probably more problematic than I am helpful. Maybe I shouldn’t say that. This morning, the new girl, whose name I don’t know yet (oops) , stole my shower spot and I was kind of bitch about it. I could have been nicer. I mean I didn’t yell at her or anything, but I wasn’t super polite. I get protective over my shower time. But, the point of this isn’t that I was mean. The point is when I got in line for meds I was late and that’s the reason I jump in the shower so early. But, Belle let Rachel go ahead of her, because she wanted to do makeup. And Rachel let me go ahead of her, but she has to time her insulin just right. So anyways, I ended up at the same spot that I normally end up for morning meds. And the real point being, Rachel does care. Rose does, too. I know that.
I went to the med window this morning to get my razor and who’s there, fucking Nurse Bailey, who says, “Clara, nice to see you.” What the fuck. Shut up Bailey. You think you can be a cunt to me when I’m in crisis and then just say something nice and I’m going to let that shit go. Fuck that. I’m a girl, we hold grudges and don’t let go. I’m not letting go of that shit. Fuck you Bailey. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. I give zero shits about your pleasantries. I won’t be bribed with your crooked awkward smile and your soft kind words. I won’t be charmed. Take it and shove it… oh is that negative? Let’s reframe. RULE NUMBER ONE, BITCH, DO NOT BE A BITCH.
I feel pretty good after breakfast. I sat with Allie, Priscilla, Anelise and Betty at our table today. The conversation is so good when Anelise and Priscilla are at the table, they just have such a good vibe and so many interesting things to talk about. I feel like I’m learning new things every time we talk. Priscilla was telling me about her favorite Audrey Hepburn movies. I realized I need to watch more of them. I ADORE Audrey Hepburn and Priscilla has such an analytical mind, so hearing her take on the deeper meaning of movies is really cool. And I realized yesterday that Anelise has a certain cadence and enthusiasm in everything she talks about, so I love to hear her talk. The vibes are just so positive this morning. Everyone has been complimenting me on my skirt and cherry coke shirt (which is apparently banned, because it’s food related), but everyone loves it. I’ll take a picture later. For my intentions today, I said I would attend groups and snacks and I was grateful for my friend Betty. She encouraged me to wear the skirt and made all kinds of positive comments. Then she gave me kudos after intentions and said she was glad I was there and she hoped to see me attend groups and meals today. I was excited to be sitting with Priscilla and Anelise, because it’s been at least a week since I’ve sat with her and she just brings good energy wherever she goes. She called my outfit, “so cute” and Katy said something similar and she liked, “the way I styled it.” Even Eliana had something sweet to say about it. I guess I just really appreciate the encouragement.
I was going to ask my team to move up my stepdown date, but I think it’s really important to me that I make Phase II before stepping down. I realize it’s not necessary, but It’s good to have a goal to work towards next week. I think that’s part of the reason I haven’t been pushing myself the last two weeks. I just felt like there was nothing to work towards. But I’m on the same level as Anelise and Priscilla and I think if we all stepped up next week, before I get stepped down to PHP, it’d be a really cool accomplishment.
Chris is going over groups and as I said yesterday, that brings a lot of anxiety for me, so I’m trying to zone out a little bit and let the rest of the group pick which groups we do. I’m going to stay in the group room (exposure therapy) and either listen to music or play guitar. They all think it’s neat that I’ve seen so many 90’s musicians. I want to play “Say it ain’t so” for them. I kind of feel like a rock star in my skirt and cherry coke shirt. Oh, and both Anelise and Jake have a Cherry Coke shirt. Unfortunately, they didn’t bring it with them, I wanted to have a cherry coke shirt day. Oh well.
Let’s talk about paralysis by analysis for a minute and how it applies to my recovery, my writing, and my song writing. The concept is one I learned from marketing forums. The idea was simple, if you come up with an idea for an ad, be it an angle, a photo, ad copy or anything else, you shouldn’t think very hard about it. Instead, you should make 5 variations of that idea. Four of which have only 1 small change and a fifth that looks or feels completely different. Then you should test all of them and see if there’s a winner. WIth music, because I’ve always wanted to write amazing songs, I focus way too much on my lyrics and just get frustrated and quit. But something I learned from Pablo Picasso, Kurt Cobain and others is that you should just throw the idea out there and if it sucks, keep doing it anyways until you have created your masterpiece. With Kurt Cobain, it was listening to his old demo tapes where he would just say silly words that fit the melody if he didn’t know what else to say. I listened to a Guns N’ Roses demo of November Rain once, too, and it was the same thing. It sounded nothing like the final polished version. It was full of mistakes and parts where he was totally off pitch. At the Picasso museum in Paris (my favorite museum that I visited) there were tons of his sketches and doodles that eventually turned into masterpieces. On one canvas, he had painted over it so many times with white paint, it looked like an inch of bad idea that he scraped until he finally painted something he was happy with. Danielle has this same issue with writing. She’s a fantastic technical writer and writes really interesting essays. But she loves writing and literature so much that she’s afraid to put anything out, because of the fear of rejection. I get it. It’s the same as my music paralysis.
Writing this journal has been the opposite experience for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever even let someone else read it. I go back and forth. I don’t care about grammar or technical writing skills. It’s all just been jotting down the things that my brain is churning over. There’s a lot of repeated gibberish, quite a bit of ranting and lots of ups and downs. But because I’m not trying to write something great, I can at least be honest. It also reminds me of the play I wrote with Muriel (we should talk more about her later, she’s one of the coolest persons that I’ve ever met and kind of my idol) and the other French group. It started as an idea with a specific structure. But when I joined the writing group (We called ourselves Five-to-Nine Productions) I just got to spit out ideas for dialog. I wasn’t worried about whether they would like it or not. Rather, I just threw around ideas until we all came to the conclusion that it was the right words for that scene. It felt like Picasso painting over his canvas until he found the right shape, color or texture.
With writing this journal, it’s more about getting it all down, everything that pops in my head and then worrying about editing or changing things later. I think that’s similar to how Marguerite Duras (Danielle’s favorite French author) wrote. Well, except that she got really hammered when she would write. I think I’m beyond that. I hate drinking and I don’t feel like it makes me particularly creative and smoking weed might make me too lazy. Cocaine would be interesting, it does make me play piano like Mozart. But, alas, that chapter of my life is closed and I have no intention of reopening that book, there are just too many negative consequences. But I don’t think my rough draft has to be perfect or poetic in nature. It just has to be real.
If I apply this same concept, paralysis by analysis to my recovery journey, maybe there’s something to be said for just showing up. Paint the canvas as many times as it needs to be painted. The final result will be something beautiful if we don’t get caught up on one particular idea. The idea that you think is going to be most important, may end up not mattering at all. And the silly test that you give yourself could wind up being your “why” for recovery.
Priscilla just spent 15 minutes chatting with me during outside time and I gained so much insight just hearing her talk. We run thoughts by each other and I love when she challenges the word I use to describe something. She has a precision to her vocabulary that is really neat. One of my favorite parts about writing (and that writing ad copy helped me get closer to mastering) is precision of vocabulary. Finding the shortest, most succinct way to say something, not necessarily the most beautiful or poetic. When writing ads that part is super important, because your goal is to strike an emotion in your reader in the blink of an eye. Very few people view a website because they want to click on an ad and many people (the ones that aren’t using ad blockers) are actively trying to ignore your advertisement. They’re on a site for a reason. Of course, if you’re targeting correctly, hopefully your ad at least somewhat coincides with the page that it’s on. But that’s not always the case, specifically with branding or if you’re targeting by demographics and not subject. With ads I was always challenging the way it looked or sounded and then of course tested it. With recovery or treatment, I should be challenging the way I think about my ED and the core causes of it. I should be trying to find the best, most precise words to describe what emotions I’m feeling. Hearing Priscilla challenge my word choice is incredibly helpful. I love words, but reading is so challenging for me, I tend to get too distracted. So my vocabulary is more limited than avid readers like Priscilla and Abigail.
Something Priscilla and I have in common is we both feel like we interrupt or get impatient when we’re talking with other people. It’s embarrassing to me when it happens, I feel like a rude jerk. It’s not that I’m not listening or not interested in what other people say. It’s that my thoughts come so fast, but also are so fleeting, I’m afraid it will be gone before I have a chance to speak it. I admire Priscilla’s courage to be herself and speak her mind and how she doesn’t get caught up worrying about how it’s perceived. So much of my anxiety is just feeling embarrassed that I’ve said something dumb or out of place. I also worry that my out of the box thinking is not going to be received. Is being weird or eccentric good or bad? Priscilla challenged my thought that it’s a negative thing and I can partially agree. But sometimes my thoughts feel so strange or like they don’t fit the conversation because I relate to things in a different way. I know that can be positive. For instance, I love problem solving, because I’m good at finding solutions and work arounds for complicated or challenging problems. But I’ve also found that sometimes my thoughts don’t land the way that I mean them to in conversation. I want to take some of Priscilla’s courage and apply it to myself. Part of the reason we are here is to learn to be ourselves and challenge our own self doubt and negative self talk. Nearly all of us admit that it’s a problem. It’s important that I find a way to reframe my self doubt in such a way that I can feel good about participating in conversation without feeling awkward, weird or anxious at what I’m thinking.
On a side note, we also discussed how I could publish this without violating patient confidentiality. I’m going to use pseudonyms instead of real names and if they want, they can pick their own name. It’s kind of fun that way and much less revealing. I’m also going to remove anything that directly describes the name of the facility or the unit we’re in, so that everyone feels safe. I’m also going to remove the city and state, just to be on the safe side of things. I would never want to violate someone’s confidentiality or make them afraid to share or be vulnerable because of some stupid blogger writing down what they say. But also, I think it’s so important to share what I hear and talk about both with other patients and staff.
Rounds went better than expected. I’ve set my goal of making Phase II before I step down in a week from Tuesday, which gives me the weekend to make sure I’m meeting all my goals, such as attending groups and completing meals. We’re increasing the buspar dose to 10mg. I keep waiting for Lexapro and Buspar to do their magic. Maybe they are working some, I can’t tell in terms of anxiety.
This, too, came up with Priscilla, in regards to how and where we find motivation. There is a big part of me that says, “Phase II is dumb and it’s not a measure of success”, but Priscilla pointed out that it could be seen as a marker or milestone or inch stone of the treatment process. The real values that will help me recover come from within and it’s okay if I don’t know what they all are yet. I have some and they are Juniper and surgery.
That’s enough for now. Others will come as I progress through the treatment process. My team seems satisfied meeting me where I’m at and letting me set the pace for the remainder of my time at Willow. I want to get the most out of being here. It’s a unique experience and I’m lucky to have been afforded the chance to come and to stay as long as I have. I need to recognize my own self worth and accept that the people around me do value my presence, both peers and staff. Betty said it out loud this morning and that means a lot to me.
Group ideas today, pass or don’t talk as much, less pressure, listen to music (maybe one earbud), appreciate my new seat (I kinda like it), stay positive and remember the value/goals, and STAY CALM. I informed Chris (MC) that I might be quiet today and that I’m practicing distress tolerance. I’m going to distract myself if it gets to be too much. My main goal is sitting through the discomfort. I don’t know why group has become so uncomfortable. I don’t know what my brain is associating groups with some sort of distress. I like group. I thrive in group. I enjoy hearing perspectives, being vulnerable and adding to the conversation. I find group is where you learn the most about yourself and your peers. Today’s first group is “validation” and that should be a positive topic. I was going to take hydroxyzine, but Nurse Bailey said it was too early. I was going to walk away and she asked if I wanted to take the clonazepam. I was trying to save it for the afternoon panic, but I think she was right. Don’t let the anxiety grow and snowball and then keep me away from lunch or groups.
What is validation? What is a part of validation? How do I define it? Per Priscilla, it’s being seen authentically, both in struggles and successes. Or seeking it as a means of escaping the uncomfortable. Also, being understood. Permission and acceptance of who you are, to be yourself. Seeing ‘me’ for who I am and not being lumped into a group that doesn’t necessarily fit. Meeting you where you’re at.
Pause on that group – Milo the kitty is here. He’s a longhaired orange Mainecoon from the Ukraine and he’s the coolest. He’s so fucking chill. The group is flocking around him and he just eats the attention up like tuna. I think he thrives on it. We all got our pictures taken with him. I may or may not post later, lol. He’s so cool. I wish I had done makeup today. I feel like my face looks so manly today. I hate that. Ugh.
Okay, back to validation. I think I would define it as recognition of an expressed feeling or emotion, neither negative nor positive. Katy says, “permission to take up space, beyond feelings and emotions, how you are raised”, so beyond just feelings or emotions to recognize opinions. Ella sounds like me, she has trouble trusting and seeks validation and reassurance. Per Chris, “not necessarily agree, but allowing for different views. It can be a dialogue, back and forth or question asking, starting point for problem solving.” Anelise, “can be understanding with disagreement.” Raine is asking if calling a problem, “just your eating disorder talking”, but how that kind invalidates the fact that the ED is part of who you are. My eating disorder is me, it’s a way to make a statement about how I’m hurting. “I am my eating disorder,” pretty much everyone. The challenge is balancing giving yourself grace, but also holding yourself accountable for your actions. I guess two things can be true. Being nourished makes it harder, because during the eating disorder, you give yourself permission to choose ED behaviors, but in recovery, the push-pull is very real. Nourishment isn’t the cure, addressing the underlying causes is the correct treatment.
I’m using music to distract during group and I really like how I’m able to switch back and forth between the group and the music. My brain automatically bounces back and forth as various things are happening. I can have it as a score for group, with focus on the music when things are quiet, but lower when someone is saying something of value. It’s a good discussion and this is definitely helpful. “The Reckoner” is such a beautiful score for this discussion and currently my favorite Radiohead song. “Jigsaw Falling into Place” also works well. I’m zoning out, I don’t want to be too consumed in this group. I might need some space, but I don’t want to isolate. Ugh. I want to be part of the group. I want to be strong and focused and present.
I’m ready for roomtime. I need to recharge. Chris’s groups are hard. I want to send Brandon a cute message in my cherry coke shirt and skirt. I’m going to ask Belle to do my makeup on Saturday for when Brandon comes. I want to look young and my makeup to be expressive and exciting. I want to pee, again. At least peeing in a short skirt is a pretty simple task with a few steps. Skirt up, panties down, pee, panties up, skirt down, make sure your shirt isn’t tucked into your skirt or panties all the way around. Proceed to the hand washing station.
Just reflecting on something Raine said just before we got out of grow. Audra brought up the topic of weight restoration and how failing to restore weight increases likelihood of relapse. And Raine said what I’ve been thinking for the last few weeks, especially with the push-pull of the team and me on weight restoration. She said, she feels like by the team she hits PHP, she’s already relapsing. This is almost exactly what I’ve been trying to say for the last few days at least. The more I feel like I’m gaining weight, the more I want to restrict and the more I find myself thinking negative or ED thoughts. The more I want to hide in my room and not come out and the more I feel out of control. I don’t want to gain weight. I’m fine with the nourishment part, I guess. I’m not excited about it, but I recognize I need to eat some meals to maintain a healthy body. Okay, fine. But I just can’t get on board with their weight restoration goals. They just sound terrible. I know I’ve ranted about this plenty, but it was nice to hear someone else say it. I just feel like if I had to choose whose eating disorder most mimics my own, Raine would be it. I mask well and I came in here and thought I wanted to recover. But as time has dragged on and I’ve learned what recovery actually means, the further I feel from actually doing it. I do want to make phase II before I leave Willow. It’s important that I meet that criteria, both for myself and for my peers. But back to what I was saying, I’m going to PHP, not with the goal of getting better, but with the goal of getting out of here. I want to get my certificate saying I’m sane, healthy and responsible and I want to go home. I’m going to PHP not because it’s the next exciting step in my journey, but because of the 40+ reasons I listed, none of them recovery related. I want to have recovery oriented thoughts and I want to participate in the group, but not to heal, more so because I like everyone so much and I want to encourage them. I want to see them recover and be healthy. I feel like everyone deserves it, except me. My ED does want to kill me and I’m struggling to challenge that thought, probably more so than any other thought. “Most of your work is going to be done in PHP”, my team says. How am I going to do work if I’m already checked out? I don’t know. I want to stay positive, but I am very skeptical.
Not to just repeat myself, but I wish I had done my makeup today. Or even better, I wish I had let Betty do it. At least some cherry red lips would be nice, maybe a little blush. I had no idea this outfit would be so cute. And now I feel like I’ve under achieved with my makeup and it all just kind of went to waste. I have another opportunity on Saturday with my dress. I think I’m going to wear it without the leggings. I’m feeling bold. But I do want to shave my legs again. I guess I missed a few spots, oops. In all fairness, I get full body waxed every five weeks. This is the longest I’ve been without being waxed in several years. I hope Josie is there when I finally get out of here. She’s going to be so mad about the shaving, but she’ll just have to deal with it. I want to wear dresses and skirts. Enough. I think they just called lunch. Like it or not, here I come.
So far today, I’ve made it through Breakfast (easy because of coffee), group, snack, group, lunch. I’m not feeling particularly swell, but I don’t feel awful yet either. Mostly grey. Not good. Not bad. I just am. I’d like to lean more yellow today, but I don’t know if it will happen. The vibes have been good and the conversation not so heavy that I can’t make it though. I wonder what’s next, I don’t want to go to group and my room is open, so my plan is simple. Make it through this group and then hope the door is still open and go hide until snack. I hope it’s not something super heavy. I hope I can handle it. I do have permission to walk out if needed. To get space and air. Ohhh nooooo, I think this might be community. I’m not all that keen on community group. It’s such a bitch fest and I don’t want to hold myself accountable for any of my partnering in illness behaviors. Also, I miss Polly. they would always say, “it’s ok” when I’d talk about something maladaptive that I was doing. I really hate misgendering them. Fuck me. They/thems fuck with me, just because it doesn’t sound right in my brain. I’m fine with the ENBY concept, just struggle with the grammar part. Please don’t take it personally, it’s me, not you. I’ll keep trying until I get it right. I hope that’s ok.
It’s cute, Betty has a morning outfit and an afternoon one. I’m committed to my skirt for the day. I went with it, I’m not going to back down now. Each outfit is new and looks a little bit different. I dreamed last night that I was shopping for overalls. Actually, I think I might have shopped for that last night before bed. I don’t remember.
It’s 4:42 PM, we just finished Chris’s group outside. I’m not really sure what the point of the group was, but it was kind of fun. I was on a team with Rachel, Raine, Priscilla and myself and we were to design a machine of any kind and then present it to the group. There were 3 total groups and the variety of machines was very interesting. We made a robot that detects your mood, emotions, feelings, etc. and provides you with encouraging support through positive affirmations, validation, hot & cold packs, tissues and more. Other teams made a brain scan device that helped detect mental health issues at an early age and with absolute precision. And the final team made an app that is a toxic person detector. It allows you to take a picture of a person and find out about their background, history and general attitude towards life to determine if they are a person worth getting to know or not. I think the best part of the group was seeing how radically different all of our devices turned out to be. It was fun.
It’s dinner time, I switched from the skirt into some comfy pants and will eventually make my way into my PJs, after dinner. I have met my goal/daily intention of attending all meals and snacks thus far. I may still skip HS snack though. My stomach kind of hurts and I don’t really want the calories. I hate how my body functions when I eat normally. That’s one part of the ED that I liked. My stomach never felt like this. I didn’t even really feel hungry anymore. Maybe in the morning, but I’d just drink a shake and be good until mid afternoon when I’d drink another shake. I would sometimes have a third shake, too, if I was really hungry or felt woozy. Or sometimes, I’d binge on cookies or something like that. I’d usually be on a strict 500 calories diet for the next 3-4 days if I binged on cookies. The longest I ever went without eating was 5 days, I think and it wasn’t even really that hard. I didn’t really miss food at all. I feel like as soon as I walk out of these doors, I’m going to revert back to that way of thinking, so that I can slim back down a little bit. I guess I just don’t believe this process is somehow going to magically make me not care about how I look and feel and how my body functions. I don’t have a lot of hope for that. But I do have some excitement about going to PHP. Just the extra freedom around the bathroom and where I can hangout all day, passes that I can get away from the building, dates with Brandon, etc. But, at this point, I feel like I’m already relapsing and the additional freedom is going to give me the opportunity to go balls to the wall, so to speak. As Ella says, once it starts, it’s kind of like, “Okay, let’s do this,” and my brain will just turn back into anorexic mode. Is that too negative? Let me reframe… I’m going to have to fight really hard if I don’t want to end up sick again from anorexia. I’ve got a lot of work to do.
It’s been really nice being here with so many girls. I think I’m going to ask Belle to do my eye makeup on Saturday for Brandon. Maybe Belle and Betty can help me get it just right. I need my proper concealer that’s in my confiscated bag. That concealer is 100x better than what I have in Splataaaah. I’m going to wear my new dress. I need to work on shaving my legs a bit more. There were some hairy patches that I found while wearing my skirt today. I want to be baby soft for him and hopefully we end up in the telephone room and I won’t even complain if he gets a little handsy. A girl has needs and his attention is definitely part of that. But back to what I was saying, girls, lots of them, being around. It’s been fun. I didn’t get to experience being a girl when I was younger. I had lots of female friends and stuff, but I never let on that I felt more comfortable being around them than guys or whatever. We didn’t go shopping or do makeup or giggle like this group does. I love the community. We even talked about it a little bit today. We’re not clique-ish. Everyone is welcome, we try to make new people feel at home. Everyone pretty much gets along, there’s not really a hierarchy per say, everyone is equal (at least in my mind.) Everyone gets a voice and no one is ostracized or left out. And I feel like the younger girls are especially good about this. I am doing my best to do better with it. It’s just a really comfortable environment and I’m going to miss it when I step down. I guess we could add #10 to my list of cons. I know there will be community at PHP, but it’s not the same as living with people. That’s valid, right? And I worry that I’ll be starting all over with different people and the vibe will be different. And what if I hate my roommate at the apartment? Who knows what I’m going to get. I think that’s going to be pivotal. Courtney said everyone eats HS snack together. I’m planning on ducking out for HS snack. But, let’s say Polly is my roommate, what am I going to do, let them down? Of course not. I’m going to do whatever I need to do to encourage them and promote their recovery.
20 mins until dinner. Bless these BHTs for not locking the doors. It’s been nice having access to my room all day, even if it’s just to change clothes or shoes. And there’s always this really awkward time right before dinner where there’s not really anything to do but hangout in the hallway. My introvert is always so drained by this time of day that I don’t want to hang out. I just need a few minutes of down time. Maybe some self reflection. A little journaling. I even leave my room door open. I don’t want to be closed off, I just want to sit in my own space. I guess I miss having my space. I miss being home. Two things can be true. I love the dormitory style life that this hospital provides. The community, the variety of people here, the nursing and other medical staff, etc. All ready to help any time of day, 24/7. It’s a great environment for me. If I’m having a total meltdown, it’s fine. There’s someone here to help, unless it’s Nurse Bailey. That cunt sucks. Yes, I said cunt. Deal with it. Have I mentioned that I was in crisis and asking for help and she told me to piss off? That happened. That was real. Anyways. Everyone else is cool.
I will go to all meals, snacks and groups. I may not eat anything at dinner, I’m not sure what I’m having. I’m not going to feel ashamed for restricting if it’s something gross. Like lunch, it was gross. It was some kind of vegetarian sandwich, but I didn’t like the sauce and the bread was all mushy, so it was gross. I tried it. I ate some. I just couldn’t finish it. No. Fucks. Given. Let’s see how dinner goes.
I had grilled cheese. No veggies, no sides, nothing. Just a plain grilled cheese sandwich. They have reduced me back down to the same levels of food as when I got here. Interesting. I told them I had already relapsed. I told Dr. Parsley that last Friday or whenever it was that we chatted. He asked me how I felt about that and the honest truth is that I feel fine about it. I don’t want to eat anything else. I went to meals today because Betty asked me to come. I went because I didn’t like how no one was talking to me in Splataaaah last night after HS snack. Ugh. The social pressure is kind of intense. I’m going to go to HS snack, but I’m not taking a single fucking bite. I don’t want the calories. I ate breakfast. Lunch was gross. I ate my shake. I ate my grilled cheese. I won’t eat the cookies. They’re delicious and I love cookies, but I’m not going to eat them or drink the milk. If anyone asks why, I’ll tell them… my stomach fucking hurts and I don’t want to put anything else on it right now. That’s true. How am I going to make phase II. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll hang out with the underachievers until they kick me to PHP, where I will starve myself, refuse to go to the hospital at all and refuse to eat. The grilled cheese with no side was a message. They were sending me a message. Just finish what’s in front of you. Weird. I feel like it’s some sort of mind game they are playing with me. I know I picked a vegetable to go with every lunch and dinner, so why did they dumb it down? To make me feel accomplished. I don’t. I feel patronized or something. This is meeting me where I’m at I guess. I’m fine with that I guess. I’ll live with it I guess. I’m guessing they have some sort of tricks up their sleeves. This is where that whole trust thing becomes a thing.
I really enjoyed today, however. I started off with some weird vibes, but the green skirt and cherry coke shirt was the right move. A power move. Not even Betty shows off her legs that much. I seriously might borrow a dress from her tomorrow or the next day. Her “short dress.” Or maybe I’ll wear that green dress that I slept in last night with some sort of cute top. That red top. Not the newest one. That one is cute, but I like the other one for this outfit.and I think my strapies will kind of show around the collar. All six of them. I’m fine with overkill. It’s the layers that make it work.
I have to shave my legs a little better. It’s a challenge, you know? Maybe I’ve mentioned this before, but the Splataaaah opens at 6:30 AM, 6:25 if we’re lucky and the BHT is on it. My shower time is at 6:30 AM, which I pick because I want to get my meds before breakfast. That gives me 15, maybe 20 minutes to pee in a cup, gather my things for my shower, lay down 4 towels, so I don’t flood the bathroom (more on that later), change into a gown, get a weight, get everything shower ready (shampoo, conditioner, body wash, shower gloves, razor), exfoliate, wash and condition my hair, clean all the bits, shave thoroughly, then try to shave my legs. The light in the shower area is less than ideal and I have fine blonde hair (thank god). But I’m going as fast as I can, because I don’t want to make the next person late getting in their shower. And go forbid I show up late to Splataaaah, because someone will swipe your shower. Betty, my pal, even tried to do it one morning. I’ll give Maggie a pass, she’s new and she didn’t know. It’s fine. But I’m just saying, the minute that door unlocks, girls gotta pounce or else. What am I getting at? I’m just saying, I don’t even normally shave my legs. I wax. It’s so much better than shaving. But until I get out of here, I have no choice. It’s shave or look like Tarzan or his wife or something. Maybe three dresses in a week is pushing it though. You don’t want to be the cutest dressed every day. You gotta let the other girls shine. Don’t be the thunder thief. If I didn’t list that in the rules, I should have. That’s a bitch thing to do, and RULE NUMBER ONE: DO NOT BE A BITCH. Unless Audra tells you that you can be. She has that authority. Yesterday, I’m pretty sure she called me a bitch five times in the same sentence, but it made me feel good.
While we’re on the subject of Splataaaah, let’s talk about it. Its original name is Spa A, but Polly added a worm like thing, a dinosaur and some extra A’s at the end of Spa. I added the L and T, so now it’s Splataaaaah. I hope it stays like that after I’m gone. I hope the legend of Polly and Clara persists. Anyways. They call it spa, but it’s just a community bathroom. There are 4 toilets, 4 showers, 2 changing rooms, 5 mirrors, a special bathroom they call the 1:1 bathroom that I don’t really understand and a sink with a separate mirror and sink next to the special 1:1 bathroom. Then in the middle of this lovely spa, there is this weird community trough sink thing. There are a couple of things worth noting here. All the drains, both in the shower and the trough thing are made to keep you from being able to purge and hide it or whatever, so none of them drain particularly well. For the trough in the middle, the water must not drain well at all, because it always smells like… sewer water or maybe a dirty fish bowl. Water that has bacteria clearly festering and growing at an alarming rate. I’m really not sure how the health codes people haven’t shut down the hospital for that. Seriously, it’s a health hazard. And the faucets have a red and a blue button on either side of the faucet. Normally, with these types of faucets, you push the button and it slowly pops back out and the water stops. But not in our Splataaaah. As soon as you release the button, the water stops. So if you’re washing your hands, you have to touch the button with one soapy hand to clean the other, then use the clean hand to rinse the soap off of the first hand. Gross.
Now let’s talk about the showers and their fabulous design. The stalls are 4 feet wide and 4 feet deep. They have a small table of sorts to put your clothes and things on and it kind of sticks out of the stall curtain a little bit, so you never have 100% privacy. Not that we have any peepers anyways, but just saying. The show itself has a curtain that is just a little bit too short and not quite long enough, so water is going to leak around the curtain. This is especially true, but the “hang yourself proof” shower heads that look like something from Shawshank Redemption are not in the middle of the shower, or the inside near the wall… they are on the outside, so water is hitting the back wall and the shower curtains as soon as you get in. And remember those drains I was telling you about, the puke proof ones. Well, they don’t work all that great in the shower either. So, if you don’t want to flood the bathroom, you get 3-4 small towels and make a fortress. The key here is four towels deep, about an inch from the drain. If you get them too close to the drain, they’ll absorb more water than actually goes down the drain and you’ll have a horrible mess on your hands. Too far away and the water just sneaks right past. If you get it just right, your bottom three towels will be soaked, but the top one will be relatively dry, giving you a dry towel to carry all of them over to the towel bin. I’ve been here just over 2 months and I’m still discovering the best ways to take a shower, but I do like stall 4. A lot of people complain about the pressure in stall four, but I like the pressure. Also, being the less popular choice means it’s usually not booked all the way to Splataaah closing time. No one really tells you about the drainage issues or why we need 5 towels to take a shower. That’s sort of just one of those things you learn on your own after a few days here.
And then it all comes crashing down at HS snack. That was a horrible shit show from hell and I’m not even really sure what happened. It started with Betty talking about her marriage ending and she’s destroyed. I can see in her eyes, she looks as scared as the day she arrived here. Then there was a really ill advised talk about weddings that kind of made things worse. Then Priscilla ends up hunched over and in tears. I asked if she was ok and Anelise just waved me off. I had no idea. Fuck. This sucks. I care about all these people so much, so to see them hurting really hurts. They are good people. Betty is a really good person. Priscilla is a really good person. They all are. Every single person in that cafe is a good, kind hearted, wonderful person. It breaks my heart to see them crumble like that. I know those feelings. I’ve been dealing with very similar emotions to Betty, except, she’s been married for 30 years. I was married for 8 and it feels like an organ being ripped from my chest. She met with her husband today and she said he was stone cold. I know that feeling all too well. The person that once doted on you and couldn’t see you enough, now looks with cold, dead eyes. It’s more than any person can take in a day. I know Betty is strong. She has kids that love her and will make sure she’s taken care of. And her husband may be some bigshot lawyer, but no judge is going to allow a 30 year marriage to dissolve without making sure she is taken care of financially. That doesn’t make it hurt less though. My heart breaks for her. I told her to come find me if she wants to talk or text me. I’ll stay up all night with her if need be. That’s a lot to go through and a lot to swallow in one night. She needs support. I can do that.
And Priscilla, I don’t know what happened. I’m so worried about her. She was smiling and giggling and correcting me like normal and then all of the sudden, on the floor practically. I asked if she was ok, but I didn’t realize how serious it was. Geez. What an awful feeling. I’m hoping it was just her emotions getting the best of her because of the wedding talk. That’s something we can work through. She didn’t know. All of us were doing it and none of us thought about it. We just get started on a topic and have a tough time stopping. And most of the time, marriage would be a fine topic of conversation. Geeeeez. That’s so awful.
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