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 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.
