Hot and Cold

When I was only two or three, my parents took me snowmobiling one afternoon at a place called Walden Pond.  No, it's not the same Walden Pond in Concord, Massachusetts, that Henry David Thoreau wrote about.  When I was a little older we would go to Walden Pond and eat sourdough pancakes with real maple syrup after the owners had tapped the trees for sap and boiled it down.  Eating pancakes in a lodge by a pond is pretty cool, huh?  But, on the day in question we were snowmobiling on the grounds of Walden.  Evidently, snowmobiles were available to rent and my parents decided to take my sister and me riding one afternoon.

I don't remember that day.  I do remember feeling my cheeks days later and wondering why I had hard spots on each one.  My parents noticed the redness and the hard spots and realized I must have been frostbitten while riding that afternoon at Walden.  Oh my God!  What have we done to our little boy? they asked themselves.  But, it was no one's fault.  My mom remembers it being a beautiful sunny day and no one being overly cold.  I never complained of being cold.  Nonetheless, riding around for a while was enough to affect my exposed cheeks.

I don't remember being in pain.  I don't even remember being too concerned about my cheeks.  I just found it interesting I think.  Why do I have hard spots on my cheeks?

I made a full recovery and the redness and hard spots went away.  I never seemed to suffer any permanent damage.  And, the experience didn't seem to affect my feelings toward winter weather.  As a youth I took part in most of the wintertime activities most kids do.  I built snowmen and snow forts.  I made snow angels.  I went sledding.

Sure, at times winter weather was bitter cold and a bit too much.  You dreaded recess on those days.  I think my friend Brad informed our teacher once that he would be staying inside and coloring during recess on a particularly brutal day.  That, of course, didn't fly.  We still had to go outside.  Sadists!

Even getting on the bus in the morning was painful.  Our house was one of the first on the bus route and the bus was still freezing cold.  Sitting down on one of those cold hard bench seats was excruciating.  Christ!  I can still see my breath!  Is this Dante's ninth circle of Hell for crying out loud?  The bus was warm by the time we reached school.  Thanks a lot!

It was the same experience getting into a cold car if we'd been, say, visiting my grandparents some winter evening.  It's not like my dad was going to let the car warm up for an hour before we left.  Even as a little kid I tried to reassure myself that it would warm up if I had a little patience.  When we got home I was half asleep and didn't want to get out of the car which was now warm.

When the weather would warm up in the springtime, it was an amazing experience.  God does exist!  It was still only about 50 degrees outside but kids were whipping off their jackets in jubilation only to be scolded by the teacher on recess duty.  "Put your damn coat on!"

I went to a sledding party at my girlfriend's house during my freshman year.  I decided not to wear a hat because hats didn't look cool and I didn't want to mess up my hair.  What a prima donna.  What an idiot.  Like anyone cared what my hair looked like.  Everyone else was bundled up sensibly.  But, not me.  Fortunately, when I soon realized what a fool I was someone loaned me an extra hat which I gladly placed upon my head.

Dieting for wrestling was always a miserable affair.  Starving is not a good time.  I'm hungry!  Dieting to the point that you have very little insulation (body fat) left and no fuel in your body is particularly painful.  I can't speak for other wrestlers, but I developed quite a case of cold intolerance.  I was sensitive to the cold weather that comes along with participating in a winter sport.

The funny thing is that we practiced in a room that was probably around 80 degrees.  Most wrestlers lose weight through sweating which is why the room is kept so hot.  It felt unbearably hot sometimes.  "Is it okay, coach, if I step outside briefly and crawl into a snowbank?"

I can remember walking around high school freezing my ass off and yet dying of thirst because I was restricting fluids to lose water weight.  Cold as hell and yet wishing I could have a big cold glass of water.  Nuts!

Later in life I would develop anorexia nervosa.  I lost a lot of weight.  I was cold all the time.  An eighty degree summer day was heaven.  Winter weather was hell.  Crank the heat! 

Here's an interesting fact.  My family always made homemade ice cream on New Year's Day.  Someone once asked me why we didn't make ice cream during the summer.  The thought that making ice cream during the summer months would have made more sense never crossed my mind.  Making ice cream on New Year's was our tradition and never seemed odd to me at all. 

I still hate cold weather.  Hell probably isn't hot.  It's probably cold.  Cold like a Northeast Iowa winter.  Every year it's the same.  Winter rolls around and I swear I am getting into my car and running away to California or Texas or Florida.  Maybe I'll even fly to Hawaii and never return to the mainland I say.  But, here I am putting on a hat and gloves and sweeping snow off of my car knowing I'll probably always be here.  At least I know how to drive on snowy roads unlike some people.

I hate cold weather.  Winter with all its accompanying snow can be beautiful at times I suppose.  I'll give you that.  But, I prefer sunny warm weather.

I love the sun.  I'm a Leo.  So, perhaps that makes sense.

The Girl Who Loved Cheese

Megan loved having mac and cheese for lunch while we were in day treatment together in the Psychiatric Partial Hospital.  She would have eaten it for breakfast if the cafeteria had served it during that time of day.  I found it interesting that an eating disorder patient loved a calorie dense food filled with carbs, fat and sodium like mac and cheese.  She loved cheese period.  I seem to recall her talking about eating a cup of parmesan cheese at a restaurant once while waiting for the pizza to arrive.

Maybe every eating disorder patient has favorite foods one might not expect.  And, if one is in treatment and has to eat anyway she might conclude it's an appropriate time to enjoy some of those foods.  It still kind of surprises me when an eating disorder patient in treatment says, "That was really good."  Or, "I love (blank)."  I think it's the rare eating disorder patient that abhors food entirely.

I don't really have any fear foods per se though there are foods I tend to avoid.  I like some foods better than others.  I have a bit of a sweet tooth.  Years ago I was basically living on chocolate chip cookies leading up to one of my hospitalizations.  Cookies aren't exactly what one would expect to be the daily fare of an eating disorder patient.  I met Wendy during that hospitalization and she'd been living on her favorite cereal and pretzels.  I heard about a female patient who had been eating so many carrots prior to coming to treatment that her hands were orange.  Too much beta-carotene!

After hearing Megan's life story, I think it's a miracle she's still alive.  She had survived an abusive relationship that she felt she had no way of leaving.  Her boyfriend was controlling and at times forced her to eat large late night meals which would eventually contribute to her eating disorder.  He would force her to eat large meals at night.  She would refrain from eating during the day to try to counteract these forced feedings.  She was routinely beaten.  She'd had a gun held to her head at times and had reached the point where she didn't care if she lived or died. 

Eventually, with some help, she found freedom.  She was depressed for a long time afterward and had trouble even getting out of bed.  But, over time she slowly found herself feeling better and stronger.  She began to work again and found supportive people.  She eventually moved to a new city and started going to college while continuing to work.  She even found a man she trusted enough to form a relationship with.

She suffered from anxiety after moving to a new city although she certainly had no plans to ever return to where she came from.  When she met with a therapist they discovered that her eating habits were a bit odd.  She tended to eat one big meal a day or not at all.  She didn't see a reason to eat unless she was really hungry.  This may have had to do with the way her family viewed eating and also with the late night feedings that were forced upon her while in an abusive relationship.

Megan had been afraid to share her story with us.  She was afraid we'd find it boring.  It was tragic and sad but it certainly wasn't boring.  I was glad to learn more about her and happy that she trusted us and confided in us.

Megan was beautiful with a big toothy brilliantly white smile.  She did experience body image issues though like many eating disorder patients.  While in the group room, she often had a sweater or jacket wrapped around her waist because she was self conscious about her stomach.  One of the therapists noticed this and convinced Megan to uncover herself occasionally. 

I mentioned that she seemed comfortable in aquatic therapy.

"That's because no one can really see my body when I'm under the water," she said.

We had aquatic therapy in a small heated pool in the rehabilitation therapies area of the hospital.  The recreational therapist would usually ask us two questions when we entered and exited the pool.  She wanted to know our level of anxiety and our level of body image discomfort on a scale of 1 to 10. 

I would often say I was at a "5" for both anxiety and body image.

But, Megan would often use numbers like 1.2 for anxiety and 4.5 for body image discomfort.  She wasn't being insolent or a smart ass.  She wasn't trying to be cute or funny.  She truly felt the need to have her numbers be as specific as possible.  The therapist didn't get upset.  She loved it.

Megan made me laugh and smile a lot. 

One day she came into the group room and said she'd met a man from the mood group who had a British accent.  She did an impression of him that had us all laughing.  Their first meeting by the coffee maker had been interesting.

"What group are you in?" asked the British guy.

"The eating disorder group," replied Megan.

"I'm in the mood group because I'm moody.  I've got all my moods," he replied.

Then he commented on the coffee situation.  "I just wanted some milk for my coffee but all they have is this non-dairy creamer and I don't like it."

She really enjoyed seeing him.  They had a few encounters after that.

"I had music therapy the other day and I got to play the xylophone," he told her excitedly one day.

They talked about groups and she mentioned that the eating disorder group had music therapy too and also aquatics.

"Aquatics?!  Where's the water?" he inquired.

For a while Megan got caught up in an mobile video game called Cooking Fever.
She would play it on her phone when we had free time.  She was operating a bakery serving cakes, milk shakes, and espresso.  I seem to recall her mentioning burning some cakes.  She mentioned needing to buy another oven or perhaps upgrade her ovens to speed up her operation.  She had some televisions to entertain her customers but she said they were old retro looking ones and she'd like to upgrade to flat screen high-definition televisions.  She didn't want to spend any real money to buy something called gems which might help her advance to another level.  I think at some point she got frustrated and started over from the beginning.  So, she was back to serving food in the fast food court.  One day she handed a customer a hot dog without a bun and got a funny reaction.   

It was fun to see how much joy she got from playing that game.
 
She also enjoyed shopping.  She loved to wander around Target.  She also mentioned a wonderful and inexpensive place called Marshalls.  Her grandparents took her to Costco sometimes.  She said she was set for toothpaste for months to come perhaps years.  She had so many paper plates she was considering donating some to charity.  She'd experienced the joys of buying in bulk. 
 
One day we walked to the other side of the hospital together to get our bone density scans.  We had to pass through a skyway from the hospital to the clinic which was very warm and sunny that day.  I had been through that skyway before on my way to have my blood drawn.
 
We both liked the light and warmth of the skyway on that level and decided we could bring in some furniture and set up house and just live there forever.  Perhaps she only mentioned it would be a nice place for a nap.  Maybe the silly notion of setting up house there was only my idea.

While waiting for our bone density we scans we talked a lot.  She mentioned her grandpa had worked his way up in his profession and had high expectations for her as well. 

We also talked about typical things like our interests and likes and dislikes.  I was sitting there having a conversation with this stunning beauty and yet felt totally at ease because she was so cool and down to earth.

One morning during a breakfast group therapy session I said, "The key to recovery is recognizing illness-based thinking.  For example, if you tell yourself you don't have time to eat lunch when you actually do and then skip lunch you are acting upon illness-based thinking."

 

I suppose I wanted to sound smart.  The therapist said there was more to recovery than that one facet.

Nonetheless, Megan thought my comment was interesting and then shared an anecdote with us.

"One day I stopped at the convenience store for some gas.  This farmer pulled in with a tractor and some kind of machinery hooked to it.  He got out of his tractor and walked into the store and came back out shortly carrying a sandwich, chips, and a drink.  I decided that if a busy farmer could find time to grab lunch I should be able to as well."

Then we tried to figure out what kind of machinery he was pulling behind his tractor.  And, I was curious what kind of tractor he was driving when she mentioned his tractor was yellow.

One day while walking to the occupational therapy kitchen, Megan wished she was at the beach.  I told her I would buy her a sandbox and deliver margaritas to her.  She liked that idea.  It was nice to make her smile.

It was actually anxiety that brought her to a therapist in the first place.  Then the therapist figured out her eating was kind of strange and Megan was formerly diagnosed.

One day Megan said, "It's amazing how eating regularly has reduced my anxiety.  My car sounds like it's probably going to die on the road anytime now and I don't even care.  I'm not concerned about it at all.  Funny what good nutrition will do for you."
 
It amazes me what experiences human beings can endure and survive.  It's remarkable that people can bounce back from traumatic events.  Not everyone rebounds and thrives but Megan seems to have recovered.  The world is surely a better place with her in it. 

I'm not sure why I didn't get her contact details before I discharged.  Perhaps I just wanted to get the hell out of treatment and never look back.  Maybe I was feeling so insecure and sure I'd fail in my recovery that I didn't want to stay in contact with anyone from treatment.  Maybe some people pass through our lives and have an impact on us even though we don't form a long lasting bond. 
 
Before I got discharged she said, "I'll miss you." 

I miss you Megan and I hope you are doing well.  I'm sure you are.

 

 

The Left-handed Goddess

The last time I worked I noticed someone had drawn a heart by my name in marker on the assignment board.  I knew who did it.  She used to draw hearts by my name all the time but hadn't for the last several weeks.  So, it was nice to see a heart by my name again.

I pointed out the heart by my name because she, the beautiful coworker I adore, was nearby at her pricing table.

"Someone loves me," I said.

She smiled.

"I wonder who put it there," I said.

"I don't know," she said, "Maybe some left-handed goddess."

"Are you left-handed?" I asked.

"Yes," she said as she smiled.

The first time we met you came running by the break room looking for a manager.  You had been working in donations and weren't sure whether you could accept a particular item so I offered to come and take a look.  After dealing with the situation we talked for a bit.  Saying I felt an instant connection with you might seem an exaggeration but I did feel there was something special about you.  Sure, you were beautiful but it was more than that.

We had some good conversations at work after that initial meeting.  I had such a crush on you.  I couldn't wait to see you again and was disappointed if we were scheduled for different shifts.  You seemed funny and intelligent.  You seemed cool but quirky.  You were edgy but sweet. 

You were a vegan who loved salsa and hummus.  And, tater tots!

You had tattoos of cats and Godzilla.

"Yeah, really hard core stuff," you joked.

One time we carried some furniture out onto the sales floor together.  After we set the furniture down you raised your hand up for a spontaneous high five.
I still love it when you want to high five.

I eventually asked you if you had any roommates.  I didn't want to ask a really obvious question like, "So, do you have a boyfriend?"  You said you lived with your cat.  And, your boyfriend.

I smiled and nodded trying to be cool and casual although perhaps you could tell how crushed I was.  I wasn't really surprised you had a boyfriend.  Beautiful women almost always do.  It was silly to think you might actually have some feelings for me anyway, right?

One of my coworkers talked to you in private and I heard he got your number and I was jealous.  Later I found out you had no interest in him at all.  It was just one of those situations where you gave a guy your number as a friend and he was hoping it was more than that.  A few other guys had an interest in you at work too.  One time you exited through the donations door after your shift to avoid a male coworker you'd heard was waiting for you outside.  You were willing to get written up for breaking the rules to avoid dealing with having to reject his proposal of going on a date.  One of our female coworkers joked that you had a fan club.

I decided to just focus on being a good friend and we continued to have good conversations.  I got over my crush on you although I, of course, still looked forward to seeing you whenever we worked together.

When you did become single I never acted upon it.  I had become used to thinking of you as a friend.  My health wasn't so good.  You deserved better anyway I figured.  And, I still wasn't really sure if you ever had more than a platonic interest in me.  After all, I'd seen you shoot a few guys down or avoid them altogether.  How could I know if you'd shoot me down too.

You ended up having a liaison with another coworker.  Or, so I heard.  I was a bit disappointed you chose some typical bad boy.  But, who am I to judge.  Did I expect you to pursue a boring polo shirt and khaki pants wearing guy like me?
Guys have flings all the time just because a girl looks a certain way, right?  So, why can't a woman.  I would never expect you to be constrained by some archaic double standard.  So, good for you for choosing the adventurous bad boy.  And, even though you had some regrets later and broke things off with him I realize you may have actually had some feelings for him. 

Eventually you were back with the original boyfriend.  Then you had a baby!  That was exciting.  I was still enamored with you anyway.  Perhaps I imagined us being together and raising this child together. 

You became single again.  You moved into a new house.  You bought a new vehicle which is funny because you used to always walk and ride your bike.

We seemed to get closer again after you returned from having a baby.

I wrote you notes.  I made you an origami cat.  You put hearts by my name on the assignment board.  Everyone at work knew I liked you.  It wasn't a secret.
One coworker joked he couldn't mess with me because you were so protective of me.  It's true.  Even if a customer hurt my feelings you were ready to throw punches.  Why do you care about me so much?

You are so cool even though different from me in many ways.  You like horror and slasher films.  You enjoy having glass or plastic skulls sitting on your pricing table.  You told me recently you have a skull in every room of your house except the bathroom.  You're an artist.  Sometimes you wear a necklace with a Frida Kahlo pendant on it because you're a huge fan of hers.  You dress cool.  You're often in dark colors and boots.  No polo shirts or khaki pants for you.  You continue to add more tattoos.  You like things I would expect like Hello Kitty.  But, you like things I wouldn't expect like Godzilla and Domo Kun. 

I suggested you might want to get the initials TS tattooed on your body.  You said perhaps on your posterior.  Is that a good thing?  Maybe the initials TS will reside on one your rear cheeks someday.

"Have you seen Pet Cemetery?" I asked recently.

"Of course!" you said.  "That's like in my top three."

"So, you've seen every horror movie?" I asked.

"I'm working on it," you said.  "That's my goal."

You said you were looking forward to October and the new horror movies that would be coming out.

You told me someone donated a blanket once with a Ouija Board design on it and our coworkers were afraid to even touch it.  You priced it, put it on the sales floor, and came back and bought it on your day off.

If you'd been a young women in the late 1970s would you have been a punk rocker?

Sometimes you stroke my ego by saying I'm an alpha male and have all kinds of women after me.  Or, you say women are lined up around the block because they know I'm working that day.  Or, you make up stories like how you came to meet me at a restaurant only to find me with two other women.

Sometimes we'd high five and our fingers would become intertwined briefly.  I've read that's a sign that a girl is into you.  But, I couldn't believe you were really into me.

You asked me once, "Tharin, how does a girl know if guy really likes her?"

I wondered if you were cryptically asking me, "Tharin, do you like me?"

I noticed you had dimples not so long ago.  I'm not sure why I never noticed them before.  Damn, girl!  Like you weren't cute enough already.

I got your number at some point.  You suggested we could grab a bite sometime or catch a movie or go to the library.  I didn't act upon it.  My health isn't so good.  I keep to myself a lot.  I blew it.  I could have spent time with this amazing women who had become my friend.

At one point I remember thinking to myself I'm not afraid she'd say "No" if I ask her out.  I'm afraid she'd say "Yes."  Then I'd have to man up and actually follow through.  Maybe I'd be a disappointing date.  I couldn't take disappointing you.

I called you once while I was in the hospital.  You were kind and supportive. 

You said, "You know I love you."

Before we hung up you again said, "I love you."

"I love you too," I said.

You probably simply meant you loved me as a dear friend.  But, that is huge.  When someone loves you in any fashion and cares deeply about you it is huge.

You continue to make me laugh.

"What would you like for Valentine's Day?" I inquired back in February.

"Not flowers.  I don't want something that's just going to wilt and die.  I'd rather have something cool like a cactus.  I don't want a Teddy Bear.  What would I do with that?  A hand-written scented note would be cool.  A lock of your hair.  One of your teeth.  A nice meal.  Some chips.  Take me to an arcade."

Damn, girl!  No flowers and a box of chocolates for you.  You are so unique.  I love that about you. 

Perhaps we will go out one day soon when I man up and take the initiative.  I will buy you a big vegan burrito and win your heart forever.  I'm not sure what you see in a boring guy like me.  But, when I saw a heart by my name on the board again recently I was on top the world.

I don't like horror movies but I'd watch them if you were next to me.. Just hold my hand or give me a hug.  You can wrap your tattooed arms around me anytime.

You recently mentioned you'd like a pair of fish tank/aquarium shoes - not with real fish of course.  You keep surprising me.

You are a goddess!  A left-handed goddess.  I love you.

F*CK THIS SH*T #2

I walk quickly along the hallway on the first floor.  I'm headed toward the other end of the hospital.  I don't look at the artwork this time.  I zip past the coffee place and the gift shop.  I zip past the cafeteria.  I keep moving.  When I had to go back to treatment in April, walking along this hallway was novel because I hadn't had to go to the other side of the hospital for almost a decade.  But, now, having to return to treatment after being discharged only three weeks ago it's no longer novel.  F*ck the artwork and f*ck having to return to treatment after only three weeks.  What's that line from Animal House?  You're a goddam disgrace!

I reach the silver elevator doors set into the red brick on the other end of the hospital.  I push the UP button and step in when the doors open.  I hope there's something good for breakfast.  If I have to eat I might as well eat something that tastes good.

A woman steps into the elevator with me just before the doors close.  Although she's thinner than I've ever seen her, I recognize Rachel immediately.  We've been in treatment together before.  We even used to hang out together.  We used to go to movies and out to eat.  But, that was several years ago.  We drifted apart and I would rarely see her unless our paths crossed unexpectedly.  We acknowledge each other in the elevator although I'm not sure we even say hello. 

"Are you going to the 5th floor?" I ask as I press the 5.

"Yeah."

"So, you're the new girl I heard was starting today."

"Yeah.  I am so tired of this."

"Yeah, I hear you."

We get off on the 5th floor and walk into the Psychiatric Partial Hospital.  It's called "Partial" because it's a day treatment program that patients attend Monday through Friday from 8 AM to 4 PM.

I part with Rachel at the front desk and walk into the group room and say hello to Tala the cute Middle Eastern woman.  She's only lived in America for five years but speaks English perfectly.

* * *

 

My breakfast consists of a small portion of eggs (my meal ticket reads Scrambled Eggs 1/4 cup), one piece of wheat toast with butter and jelly, some raisin bran cereal., and a carton of 1% milk.

 

The small pile of eggs looks sad.  I don't mind mass produced hospital scrambled eggs.  I just think they could have given me a larger portion.  And, another piece of toast would have been nice.  If I have to eat I might as well eat a good sized portion I figure.  I know that seems messed up - an eating disorder patient thinking his breakfast could have been a little larger.  The breakfasts will get larger soon enough.

 



 

One of the therapists eats breakfast with us so we can eat and have group therapy at the same time.  He has eggs and hash browns.  He mentions having steel cut oats at a B&B in Ireland.  So, now he doesn't like instant oatmeal or even regular oatmeal anymore.

 

I think he mentioned the steel cut oats because Cindy is having oatmeal for breakfast.  Cindy mentions having a margarita the night before at a restaurant with friends.  She also ate more chips and salsa than she deemed reasonable.  So, when she came home she threw it up.  She and the therapist talk about what might have led up to the purging and how to potentially handle similar situations in the future.

* * *

In Coping Skills group we talk about recovery.  A worksheet with a lot of info reads, "Recovery is a way of living a satisfying, hopeful and contributing life even with the limitations caused by illness."  At this point I can't comprehend recovery so it seems pointless to be looking at a recovery worksheet and talking about it.

In the next group therapy session I don't have much to say.  The therapist wonders why I seem to have given up.  "I'm tired of life.  I'm tired of being sick.  I'm tired of feeling like crap.  I'm tired of struggling.  I'm tired of everything," I say.

 

Tala is upset and in tears.  She's been doing everything they ask of her and is gaining weight.  She is extremely distressed by the number on the scale.   She's supposed to be at "maintenance" weight and truly doesn't need to restore any weight but has gained weight anyway.  If eating well balanced meals and doing what she's told means gaining more weight then she is ready to give up on treatment.   Telling her the weight gain is within normal variance and might simply be caused by water weight or other factors does not appease her.  She doesn't want to hear that her body is trying to find homeostasis.  She doesn't want to hear about the body weight set point theory.  F*ck that!  No reassurances comfort her at this point.  Even being told she looks healthy and beautiful is of no comfort. 

Tala is afraid she will be alone.  She is afraid that she will not find a partner (i.e. a boyfriend that will become her husband).  I laugh a little inside.  I am incredulous.  She's a kind and beautiful young woman.  Why is she single?  Is there something wrong with the college boys in this town?  Or, have they simply not noticed her yet?  I think when the college boys notice her she will have to fight them off.  She said she is still waiting to find a relationship that lasts for more than four days.  I'm not sure how much the desire for friends and a mate influence her eating disorder.

 

* * *

 

Tala and Cindy get to go to the cafeteria and pick out their own food.  Of course the food they choose has to be approved by the nurse.  Rachel and I get trays of food wheeled onto the unit in a silver meal delivery cart. 

 

My meal ticket informs me I will be having pizza for lunch.  I smile and laugh a bit.  My weight is pretty low and I've only been back three days but I'm being served pizza already.  It's not a very big pizza although it does cover my entire dinner plate.  A small pizza cut into six pieces.  I have to admit that part of me was happy about getting to eat pizza.  I guess I can rationalize it by saying they made me eat it.  I had no choice.  Messed up thinking I guess.  Sometimes I find myself getting hungry when in treatment.  Maybe my body is telling me it's happy to be getting some food and would like even more.

Eventually I will get more.  I'll get more food with my meals and the addition of snacks as well.  It becomes an odd challenge to see if I can eat all the food the treatment team expects me to. 

 

Rachel gets pizza for lunch as well.  I don't think she's too happy about it.  I eat mine much faster than she eats hers. 

 

 * * *  
 

After lunch we have a group led by one of the nurses.  Tala shares a Thought Record she did concerning a fight she had the previous evening with her cousin and mother.  She was so upset she was shaking and couldn't even move for a long while afterward.  She said that was actually a good thing because she was unable to go out and buy food to binge on.

I share a Testing Your Thoughts worksheet.  I talk about being back in treatment after only three weeks and how I've been thinking lately that my entire life has been a waste and I've accomplished nothing.  I discuss how I know that's not really true because I have a college degree and have held jobs and gotten good work reviews.  I have been in relationships.  I love my family and they love me and care about my well-being. 

Tala tells me that returning to treatment is actually a courageous thing to do.  I don't feel courageous.  I feel like an utter failure.

Our last group of the day is a recreational therapy group.  We go outside and sit at a picnic table.  The rec therapist gives us each a worksheet with a bunch of questions for us to answer and discuss.

What was the happiest moment of your life?  How can I pick one moment?  I can't really answer the question.  I don't think I was happy when I graduated from high school or college.  Each of those occasions was more of a relief than an occasion for happiness.  I think of how I qualified for the wrestling state tournament my senior year.  That was a happy occasion I suppose but also more a sense of relief too than happiness.  And, the fact that wrestling may have played a role in my eating disorder makes it not such a fond memory either.  Perhaps I should never have wrestled or at least refused to cut weight.

Some moments in life are simple but happy like eating a nice meal with your family or going to a good movie or knowing that the girl you have a crush on likes you too.

What's your favorite way to spend a night on the town?  Tala mentions having some drinks.  She likes vodka.  I used to go out to drink and dance back in my college days.  I used to go to movies and out to eat with friends and girlfriends.  That seems like a million years ago.  Another lifetime.  Was that really me?

* * *

 

The day ends and we gather our stuff.  Tala is going out of town for the Memorial Day holiday.  Cindy is going camping.  I'm not sure what Rachel is doing.  I have a meal voucher I could use in the cafeteria but I don't.  I just head to the parking ramp because I want to get the hell out of the hospital and go home. 

 

I don't know if I can do this crap again.  I am tired of it all.  Earlier in the week in music therapy we were asked if we had any favorite affirmations or mantras.  I had nothing much to say.  Tala said, "This too shall pass."

 

I hope she's right.



The Roller Rink

Although roller skating had been around for decades, the 1970s saw a resurgence in popularity for this activity.  My family was swept up in this phenomenon as well.  My sisters and I went skating at the local roller rink many Sunday afternoons and occasionally my 4-H club, a church group, or a group from school would host a skating party.

It's quite possible I would have been introduced to roller skating anyway.  My parents met at a roller rink.  My grandfather had skated at that same location even when it was just a tent covering a wooden floor.  So, it was probably natural for them to introduce skating to me and my sisters.  The roller rink where they met is where I learned to skate.  My parents owned their own skates which they probably received as gifts.  Skating was a fairly popular activity then thanks in part to the booming economy following World War II.  I think the skating my parents did was a bit more elaborate than what I experienced.  Back then it was popular to two-step, schottische, waltz, bunny hop, and twirl on skates skating forward and backward.  The skaters even performed a Grand March.

In the middle 1970s, disco music catapulted roller skating back into the spotlight.  With customers flocking to rinks at a record rate, many entrepreneurs decided to build new state-of the-art roller skating centers.  Countless rinks were built with massive sound and lighting systems.  The older, more traditional rinks made few updates, but still profited from the roller-disco craze. 

"Disco is a musical style originating in the early 1970s.  It began to emerge from America's urban nightlife scene, where it had been curtailed to house parties and makeshift discotheques from the middle of the decade onwards, after which, it began making regular mainstream appearances, gaining popularity and increasing airplay on radio.  Its popularity was achieved sometime during the mid-1970s to the early 1980s."¹ 

I definitely remember being aware that this genre called disco music existed.  I think it kind of bothered me that I was never really sure which songs were considered disco.  I figured "Disco Inferno" had to be a disco song because of its title.  I think I knew that Donna Summer was the Queen of Disco.  I might have even known all of those Bee Gees songs featuring Barry Gibb's falsetto were disco.  At my young age I didn't realize disco was considered dance music.  I just considered it pop or rock.  Dance music wasn't part of my music vocabulary. 

"Disco marked the dawn of the modern era of dance-based popular music.  Growing out of the increasingly groove-oriented sound of early '70s and funk, disco emphasized the beat above anything else, even the singer and song.  Disco was named after discotheques, clubs that played nothing but music for dancing."²

During the late 1980s, some college friends and I used to go to a club called Spinners to socialize and dance.  Disco never really died.  It simply evolved into dance-pop and a variety of other dance-based genres.  It's still a little sad though that we missed the disco craze.  We never got to strut around like Tony Manero in Saturday Night Fever.  I was around during the disco era but too young to be dressing in a leisure suit and going to discotheques.

The word boogie was featured in a lot of songs back then like:
"Boogie Fever"
"Boogie Wonderland,"
"Boogie Oogie Oogie"
"Boogie Shoes"
"I'm Your Boogie Man"

Everyone wanted to get down back then.  Everyone wanted to boogie - even your parents.

"Hey, Mom.  What are you and Dad doing tonight?"

"We're going to go out and boogie!"

"What?! Noooo!

"Grown-ups had their discos, bars, and pool halls, but the children of the '70s had the roller skating rink.  The roller skating rink was around long before the '70s - they were often enormous with live organ music.  In the '70s they metamorphosed into a disco themed haven for teens.  They had everything you could want - loud music, poor lighting (all the better to get away with stuff), an equal measure of girls and boys, pinball machines and, later, a video arcade."³

The concept of the roller disco originated as a fad in the 1970s when the disco craze was at its height.  The marriage of skates, amplifiers, lights and loud music was a love match.  But, the local roller rink where I skated didn't pop up because of the disco craze.  It had been around for a long time providing wholesome family fun.  Dean's Roller Rink (formerly Art's Roller Rink) was nothing fancy but it was fun. 

Dean's Roller Rink was a nondescript big white building sitting along the highway between two small towns.  You entered the door and paid your admission before proceeding through a swinging door into the lounge area.  Most customers rented their skates so you walked over to the counter and someone asked you what size of skates you needed.  Boys wore black skates and girls wore white.  You put on your skates and you were ready to roll.  Although Dean gave a brief group lesson now and then, learning to skate was largely a DIY task.  I became proficient fairly quickly.  Soon I found my place among the weekend warriors, wall-clutching newbies, and teens looking for love.  I could roll with the best of them.  Sometimes I would see how fast I could go and end up wiping out.  I always hoped a girl would ask me to skate a couples skate with her although that didn't happen too often.

Dean didn't have a state-of-the-art sound system.  He just had a record player, microphone, and some speakers.  I guess one might have called it a public address system.  It was enough to fill the rink with the sound of music and Dean's voice.  Even though Dean's rink wasn't a roller disco I know he played some disco songs.  He played a lot of contemporary '70s music and a few older selections from the '50s and '60s as well.  I suppose when a new decade began he added some '80s music to the mix.  I remember a lot of the songs Dean played because his playlist didn't change a lot over the years as I recall. 

Here's a partial playlist for the roller rink.  Some of the songs I know I heard and some perhaps just seem like something I might have heard.

I Like Dreamin' - Kenny Nolan
All I Have to Do Is Dream - The Everly Brothers
Rhythm of the Rain - The Cascades
Hushabye - The Mystics
409 - The Beach Boys
You're Only Lonely - J. D. Souther
On and On - Stephen Bishop
Sentimental Lady - Bob Welch
Never Be the Same - Christopher Cross
Swayin' to the Music (Slow Dancin') - Johnny Rivers
Babe - Styx
Baby Come Back - Player
How Much I Feel - Ambrosia
Cool Night - Paul Davis
We'll Never Have to Say Goodbye Again - England Dan and John Ford Coley
Just Remember I Love You - Firefall
Sharing the Night Together - Dr. Hook
If You Leave Me Now - Chicago
Love Hurts - Nazareth
Lost Without Your Love - Bread
Without You - Harry Nilsson
Let Me Love You Tonight - Pure Prairie League
Who Loves You - The Four Seasons
Steal Away - Robbie Dupree  
Muskrat Love - Captain and Tennille
Ooh Baby Baby - Linda Ronstadt
Midnight Blue - Melissa Manchester
We're All Alone - Rita Coolidge
Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue - Crystal Gayle
Shadows in the Moonlight - Anne Murray
Right Time of the Night - Jennifer Warnes
Lotta Love - Nicolette Larson
Hopelessly Devoted to You - Olivia Newton John
Reunited - Peaches & Herb
Kiss on My List - Daryl Hall and John Oates
Keep On Loving You - REO Speedwagon
Heart of Glass - Blondie
The Loco-Motion - Grand Funk Railroad  
Freeze Frame - The J. Geils Band
Saturday Night - Bay City Rollers
We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions - Queen
Don't Bring Me Down - Electric Light Orchestra
Dancing Queen - ABBA
Shake Your Booty - KC and the Sunshine Band
Celebration - Kool and the Gang
Disco Inferno - The Trammps
Funkytown - Lipps Inc.
How Deep Is Your Love - Bee Gees
I Just Want to Be Your Everything - Andy Gibb
Hot Stuff - Donna Summer
If I Can't Have You - Yvonne Elliman
I'll Never Love This Way Again - Dionne Warwick

It's interesting that Linda Ronstadt's cover of "Ooh Baby Baby" was a track on her Living in the USA album.  The front cover photograph on the album shows Ronstadt on roller skates.  So, a song I recall hearing at the roller rink was actually on an album with a woman on roller skates.

And, Olivia Newton-John did some roller skating in Xanadu (1980).

Most of the time the patrons skated counterclockwise around the rink.  To add to the fun, there were couple skates, hokey pokey, and limbo skates.  There was a skate routine involving a flashlight.  The guys would line up in the middle of the floor while the ladies skated around the perimeter.  Dean would flash the light on a female and the guy would skate one lap with her and get back in line. 

The limbo was fun but I couldn't go too low.  "Limbo lower now.  How low can you go?"

The hokey pokey was led by Dean and was fun as well.

You put your right leg in
You put your right leg out
You put your right leg in
And you shake it all about
You do the hokey pokey
And you turn yourself around
That's what it's all about!

It was common to hear Dean address us over the PA system from time to time.
"Clear the floor, please.  Clear the floor, please."  Then after the floor was clear he might say, "The next skate is couples skate, ladies' choice."

One of my female classmates went skating often on Sunday afternoons as well.  Let's call her Molly.  I think she probably owned her own skates.  She could skate equally well going forward and backward.  When we skated together during a couples skate she would sometimes skate backward while we held hands.

On one occasion some of my other classmates were at the rink.  I was hanging out with some of the guys by one of the pinball machines when a couples skate was announced.  I saw Molly skating toward us said something like, "Oh, no.  Here comes Molly."  I don't recall if I was feigning disinterest to seem cool or if I really didn't feel like skating right then.  They urged me to hide behind the pinball machine but it was too late.

"Do you want to skate?" she asked.

"No," I said quietly. 

I don't think I'd ever turned her down before.  The combination of my rebuff and the guys' laughter probably really hurt her or really pissed her off.  She skated off in a huff.  I guess she must have forgiven me because she asked me to a homecoming dance a few years later.  I turned her down then too.  What an asshole I was, huh?

I recall going to the rink one evening when I was a seventh grader.  I had a girlfriend at the time.  I recall another girl asking me to skate which I thought seemed odd.  She told me that my girlfriend had asked her to skate with me.  Then I saw my girlfriend skating with one of my classmates.  What the hell is going on here? I thought.  I think she dumped me for him not long after that  although I never blamed it on the skating rink.

My grandpa drove me and my sisters to the rink occasionally.  He would usually skate as well.  Sometimes he would skate with one of my sisters or another amiable young woman.  Although most guys would hold their skating partner's hand or put an arm around her my grandpa did things differently.  He would put one arm around his partner's waist and hold her near arm in front of him as though they were figure skating.  I guess that must have been how they did it in his earlier days.

If you were hungry or thirsty, you could buy refreshments like soda and candy at the front counter.  I recall them selling really long licorice whips.  I think if you requested a "suicide" they would mix all the flavors (e.g. cola, root beer, orange, lemon-lime) from the soda fountain into your cup.

I think the rink had one or two pinball machines in the lounge area near the snack bar.  I don't recall Dean's rink ever having any video games - not even Space Invaders.  That's okay, though, because we were there to skate.

Another roller rink I went to a few times was the Harmony Roller Rink in Harmony, Minnesota.  Cool name for a town, huh?  I think I went there at least twice with my 4-H club.  I think I was a fourth or fifth grader the first time I skated there.  I recall two older girls asking me to skate with them during a couples skate.  They may have been in junior high or even high school.  I guess I was a still a cute kid at that point in my life and they must have thought it would be fun to skate with some cute little kid.  The funny thing is that I think my 4-H club went back to the rink again the following year and on the night we were there those same two girls happened to be there as well.

"Do you remember us?" they asked.  I said I did and I imagine they asked me to skate again.  When I got older I didn't have beautiful older girls asking me to skate.  I guess I lost that cute kid charm.

I didn't skate quite often enough to justify buying skates although I looked at them in catalogues sometimes.  I never read any roller skating magazines like the aptly named Roller Skating although I think I ordered a copy of The Skating Rink by Mildred Lee from one of those school book clubs.  I only read some of it but I had to buy it because of the cover I guess.

I didn't skate much during high school.  In fact, I think the last time I skated may have been during my freshman year.  One night I skated a lot with my girlfriend who happened to be there.  Another evening she wasn't there and I skated with a girl from another school who asked me to skate with her.  One of my friends also skated with her and made it a point of telling her that I had a girlfriend.  That was true but it still kind of irked me that he wanted it to be clear to her that he was available and I wasn't.  When I was old enough to drive, I never took a date roller skating or even went with a group skating.  It was a new era.  I was busy with other activities and I guess skating just didn't seem cool any longer. 

I suppose I was a bit of a snob when I turned my nose up at inline skates when they became all the rage during my college years and after.  How could inline skates beat a good pair of quad (four-wheeled) skates?  I guess I was already nostalgic about skating even then.  I imagine inline skates are a lot of fun.  Perhaps someday I will try skating in a pair although I think I'd still rather skate in a plain old pair of roller skates.

I was just a kid in the 1970s but I remember some of the teenagers from that period.  I've also seen pictures online of teens who roller skated and frequented rinks during that time period.  Bill Yates, a photographer, took some interesting pictures at the Sweetheart Roller Skating Rink in Florida during the early '70s.

https://www.sweetheartrollerskatingrink.com/

What if I had been a teenager during the '70s (especially during the disco craze) and went skating often?  Would it have been different? 

* * * 

I see her sitting there on a bar stool next to the counter.  She has long blond feathered hair like Farrah Fawcett.  She's wearing a halter top and some hip-huggers.  She's wearing a pair of white skates with pink pom poms.

I glide over and sit on the stool next to her.  A friendly woman walks over and asks if I want anything.

"I'll take a suicide," I say.

The blond glances over at me.

"A suicide?  Are you sure you can handle that?" asks the pretty blond.

"I drink one almost every time I'm here.  I'm very adventurous," I reply.

"I like your yellow wheels," she says.

"Polyurethane," I say.

"I think mine have clay wheels.  But, at least they're mine and I don't have to rent," she says.

"I like your pink pom poms.  Such a girly touch," I say.

"Well, I am a girl," she says.

"Oh, I noticed.  Believe me, I noticed.  Nice halter top by the way," I say.

"It's actually a crop top and you're being kind of forward don't you think?"

"I'm just saying that not everyone can get away with showing off their belly button."

"YOUR shirt is interesting."

"Interesting?"

"It's very colorful.  It looks silky."

She reaches out and feels the fabric of my shirt and says, "Nice."

"It's fifty percent polyester and fifty percent acetate."

"Well, I wouldn't stand too close to anyone lighting up a cigarette."

"Ha ha.  I'll be careful."

"What kind of car do you drive?"

"Now who's being forward?"

"I think it's a fairly common question."

"I drive a black Trans Am like the one Burt Reynolds drove in Smokey and the Bandit."

"Are you serious?"

"No, just kidding.  I do own a Monte Carlo though."

"Oh my God!  You better not be joking this time.  I love Monte Carlos."

"I'm totally serious.  It's a black Monte Carlo."

"Does it have a cassette deck?"

"Of course."

"You have to give me a ride sometime."

"Absolutely."

Over the PA system a voice says, "Clear the floor, please."  A moment later the voice says, "The next skate is a couples skate, ladies' choice."

Soon the rink is filled with the Bee Gees singing "How Deep is Your Love."  The blond says, "I love this song."  She grabs my hand and says, "Come on!  You have to skate with me."

We glide onto the floor hand in hand and begin to skate.  Soon she seamlessly switches to skating backward.  As we glide along holding hands and looking into each other's eyes and the world around us disappears, I can't think of anywhere on Earth I'd rather be at that moment. 

Notes 

1 "Disco." Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disco Accessed 19 March 2018.
 
2 "R&B>>Contemporary R&B>>Disco." All Music. https://www.allmusic.com/subgenre/disco-ma0000002552 
Accessed 19 March 2018.

3 "Rollermania #3." Retrospace. 14 May 2010. http://www.retrospace.org/2010/05/rollermania-3.html
Accessed 20 March 2018.