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.