This was the most appropriate title for this post. The mystery will soon be unravelled.
I think it was on another writer's blog that i saw something similar to the following written:
"When you are restricting, it's not always obvious that you have a problem. But when you have your head down a toilet, you know you have a problem"
And so it is with me. I know i have a problem even though i have never stared down the barrel of a porcelain toilet bowl. But the reason i know i have a problem is because i come face to face with the contents of my stomach at least once a day. And that is the reason i agreed to a day programme even though i have no desire to go down this route. It is not the fact that i am at my lowest weight, it is not the comments or concerned looks i get from others and it sure as heck isn't the fact that my blood work is all over the place and i am clearly living recklessly with the ED at present. Added to the regurgitated contents of my stomach is the fact that my mind had finally become my worst enemy. I understood what it was like for your own self to turn on yourself. It was scary and that was what initially led me to the wooden door of my GP.
So yes, purging reminds me that i have a Real problem. So even though a great part of me believes that i should not be anywhere near any kind of programme, i know that i need help and support. And this leads me onto Day 1.
I now know why a loved one who i shall refer to as GoGetter (GG) prefers not to spend too much time with people who are depressed. Cos you'll end up looking just like them. That is what came to mind within an hour of me turning up. That, my friends, is exactly what i do not wish for and what i most fear. I wanted to avoid ending up in some kind of system which claims to have THE Answer, THE Cure, when the truth is that all it does (i do not trivialise it by saying all, i just want to put some perspective on this) is point us in the direction of healing and it holds our hands whilst we walk towards that place of healing. It doesn't carry us. If the sand underneath our feet is burning, we may have to run quicker cos noone is going to carry us. We must use our own legs.
Today, i learnt that the hardest part of this programme will not be the turning up part, or the huge lunch and 2 snacks; the hardest part will undoubtably be what happens afterwards.
There was no huge fanfare when i arrived. No staged introductions. No energisers, icebreakers or appetisers. Oops. That's something else isn't it?? Anyway, my introduction to DC (daycare) was a mugful of soya milk, tears (not on my part. i don't cry in front of others like that), a stuttering morning, and admonition for leaving the room to ease myself ("well if you'd explained the rules in the first bloody place....").
I questioned everything today: the overcompassionate, halfpatronising expressions of the group leaders. I questioned the words of the other "patients". I questioned the need for the words "hospital property" to be etched into the cutlery and wondered whether i was now also "hospital property" and most of all, i wondered which mad scientist (read, crazy professional) thought that custard and fruit salad made for a good combination. I thought we were meant to be the crazy ones.
As we queued up for lunch like lambs to the slaughter, or death rowers waiting to be seated on the executioner's chair, i wondered where the joy and laughter i was so used to being surrounded by had gone. I looked around at the sombre, pensive faces and wondered whether it would be a wise idea for me to wipe the smile off my face. I hate misery. And more than misery itself, i hate the face of misery.
By the end of the lunchtime dessert, my ED brain kicked into gear as i wondered whether adding more water to the contents of my stomach would help me bring it all back up once i'd returned home in ummmm, a few hours. I decided it wouldn't be possible so i would 'sit' (how i hate that word. "Have you thought of sitting with those feelings?" "No, but i sho would like to sit on them") with that meal and allow my body to breathe if only for a little while. Lunch was more more pleasant than i'd imagined but i know the hard work will really begin when i have to increase my portion size in a few days time. aaaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhh. I even smiled at one point, thinking about how nice it was with the condiments i was allowed. I am glad i read some of the recovery blogs on here. It reminded me to stay grounded in the present.
I am by no means, a wallflower and although i spoke when invited, i wasn't completely me - wherever she is.
I decided to request something from a professional. All they can say is no and No has never been known to cause any physical pain before.
Now as i sit on a double decker bus listening to Brooke Fraser, green spaces roundabout me and listless clouds above me, i accept what my evening will look like and hope i can reduce the frequency. I am curious to discover how long it will take before i feel hungry again (7 hours later, i was not hungry. My stomach had almost recovered from lunch) and whether i will find a large enough pothole to empty this binge food into. It would really have gone down a treat in a totally empty stomach but with the contents of lunch still doing a merry dance somewhere inside of me, i think i need to keep my index finger on the pause button for a little while longer.
A few other notable things:
- I found myself problem solving for others in my head as they talked about some of their issues. Other times, i was bored by the talking and lost myself somewhere in the fog of my mind.
- Is it possible to die from therapy overdose? It was only Day 1 but i think i am completely wiped out by issues and problemsolving and suggestions and planning and sitting with things or sitting on things (as i prefer). I am bored shitless and tired of this and i am not sure how much more of it i can take. All i kept saying in my head in the first few hours after arriving was: are you kidding me? is this what i signed up to? Rapunzel, will you please let your hair down?
Sayonara Day 1
(i didn't mean for it to be this long - really, she says with a sly smile)