To Dine Out

Today was my second lunch group outing. Sally, who normally runs it, has been on vacation for about a week now so it has been presided over by her protegé, Calista, and the rec director, Talia. Now Talia has been working here for years and knows her dietary ED info pretty well even though her main focus is recreation. Calista, however, is another story. She is new, still in school, and here for the purpose of completing her dietetic internship. Granted, shes still learning the ropes a bit, but she has been here long enough to at least have figured out how to eat meals around a bunch of eating disordered patients.

Talia is excellent to eat with. When we are out she gets roughly the same amount of food as us and she eats all of it without a hitch. Calista has been consistent as well but not in such a good way. In fact, many of my peers here would much rather not dine with her at all. She is a naturally thin woman of indian origin who, personally, I think is quite beautiful. The problem is that she doesn’t eat enough. There are many dietitians with food issues but they have jobs working with people who are trying to lose weight, not gain. If there is one thing a dietician should do when eating meals with us its to be a good example. One of Sally’s mantras is that we should model our plates after hers.

To make a long story just a bit shorter, Talia asked me a question as we walked back to the inst, ahead and out of ear shot of the rest of the group. She wanted to know if the amount that Calista had left uneaten on her tray had bothered me. After an honest “yes” on my behalf Talia then asked me if I would bring it up at a short meal process group when we got back. Hesitantly I agreed so long as all the others who had similar complaints would back me up. She asked why no one had addressed the group about it before and found that, although most of us were irked by it, none of us wanted to rock the boat. We are generally a pretty passive bunch.

So I did it. I said it made me uncomfortable that she didn’t practice what she preached on a routine basis. Others agreed with head nods while Calista immediately got defensive. On that note Talia wrapped the group up and too Calista in back. Since it was Talia’s idea and urge to air out the dirty laundry I can only assume that they had a chat about the issue. Hopefully things will change. Just as we are doing our part learning here the is learning as well. In one way or another we are consistantly helping eachother – it just depends on how accepting of it we are.

Everybody has them

Things happen here that you wouldn’t expect. Things forgotten, things remembered, ways of force by means of will we dig deeper than we would have thought possible. There is no real right or wrong way to go about discovery because its only the outcome of the experience that is tangible.

I never reall understood the term “you are as sick as your secrets” and yet it seems to be a common theme for the day. Dr Vanhalen says that I keep them but I don’t really think I really have any. I generally believe that I have only truths and just a lack of people who really care enough to ask me about them. I’ll open up, I have no problem with that, but I’m not going to readily offer up my soft underbelly if I don’t think its going to be treated with fragility by those around me. I figure that if people want to know something about me they will ask and if they don’t then I think its safe to assume that they don’t perticularly want to be burdened with my problems. Thats what therapists are for. Thats why we pay them. Its their job.

I don’t know where this idea that I have to be some sort of pillar of strength came from. I’m not sure why truly breaking down and asking for help seems so out of my nature. Maybe my true feelings on this subject were a secret I was keeping from myself.

So, it wasn’t singularly Dr. Vanhalen that spurred this inner diving session. Creative writing group had a free write seesion with the theme being secrets. Most people seemed to write on the topic with ease but, for some reason, I just couldn’t come up with anything. Naturally I was discouraged because I have been recently priding myself in my written words. I feel like I am going to have to think more on this subject. On the surface, if asked about secrets and the like, I’m sure I would off-handedly say something about trust or truth but after this I believe sompletely rethinking my ready-reply answer is in order.

Grapes

*I will preface this with the statement that life is not always roses. It has been suggested to me recently that I might want to try and throw a little more my personal emotions into my writing. That this is a tough time and its not always just about whats going on around me, but whats also inside as well, that matters. Its just that its not so consistently as positive as I make it seem here. This next entry is something that I wrote because, at the time of writing it, that is how I felt. It doesn’t mean that its a constant struggle or that I’m not doing well in the long run, just that this revolution is not as easy as I would like it to be…and its hard admitting that.*

Maybe I should start doing some of the exercises in the body image workbook thats been sitting on my desk for the last two months. Its just been staring at me collecting dust without even so much as a single crack in its glossy spine. I have it because I thought it would be helpful but its sitting there almost as a trophy of strength and triumph. Do I think I don’t need the same lengths of help that others do? Am I really that much better if somewhere in my disillusioned mind I still think I’m tougher than everyone else? Why does it become second nature to feel I’m not allowed to show my weaknesses? Its difficult enough to even let leak that I have them. All I know is that right now I don’t feel pretty. I don’t feel myself. I’m not even sure what that would feel like if I did. I feel more nauseous than anything else…or maybe its that I’m hungry. I can’t even tell anymore.

I wish I knew if there was an end to this or not. It sometimes seems that the healthier I get physically the more often I feel confusion mentally. I’ve just been getting this common undermining sense that some part of me is lost. Its not that I felt any better in the depths of the eating disorder, its just that at that point I had something that I could actually pin my sadness to. The emptiness had a name then. There is no way in hell I would want to revisit that misery but I’m not real keen on how I feel right now either. Its troublesome but worth contemplation.

Venturing Adventure

The stars stretch northward from my gaze as I lay on my back beneath them. Consumed by their expanse on this straggling last day of summer the green metal bench is only slightly chilled under my back. To the south are the frilly borders of the slowly burning treetops that build the natural wall between the fresh air park and the highway. East of me is the Inst Center, home sweet home at the moment, and wast is the top of the tall wire fence surrounding the yard. The others are still strolling slowly, pacing the perimeter, but I feel like I have walked enough today. Its finally a time that I can kick off from all the bustle and open up to reflection. I am here, now, and this is what I see. With so much going on its rare to get a clear view in the city.

Its been a long day but a good one. Abound with adventure things didn’t entirely pan out as I had expected but the time had was no less exciting and new. To start there was the very first makeshift art therapy group. If you go by the true bare bones definitive it was actually more of a themed art collective since I had to leave before any therapy really came into play. The project I had come up with involved glue, large heavy paper, scissors, and the immense amount of old magazines we have piling up everywhere. Because of the scissors we had to request the watchful eye of a staff member but Victoria was happy to do it. The instructions were self-interpretive and basically called for the creation of words and pictures to create a self-portrait.

Not everyone on the unit participated but the six who did later reflected on how much they enjoyed it. I had to leave at 11:00 to begin the day’s pass outing but they were all still working diligently even as I stepped out the door. I would have liked to look at everyone’s creations in the end but it just didn’t happen this morning. Actually, that sort of brings up a wall for me. O one hand I would love to hear how people would interpret their self-portraits but, on the other, even though I was asked to lead this group, I don’t want anyone to feel like I am overstepping my bounds by acting like a teacher. I don’t want to be resented. All in all though I have been told by each who attended that it was an enjoyable success. I have been assigned to head up the same alloted time with a new project next week.

As the morning wore on our pre-lunch departure time gained bearing. First things first, upon leaving the building Benji, Amy, and I happily pardoned the Starbucks that had successfully positioned itself kitty corner to the subway entrance. As good as Starbucks coffee is though I am truly seeing its money-consuming potential. I will have to remember to ask Molly which sidewalk cart she frequents in the mornings. Apparently, whatever shes getting as her coffee fix is just as good, if not better, than Starbucks and its only costs the same $.75 as it does in our regular 6th floor cafe.

After we had armed ourselves with caffeine and ice water the three of us trek towards the underground. The subway station’s lower platform has the heat of a snake pit but we are lucky. The train that is meant to carry us to the Washington Square Park Soho area of Manhattan pulls within a minute of our descent into the dank. We board the A-train express and begin to 40 minute bullet shot to the day’s unfolding agenda.

The Creative Outlet

There is no art therapy on the unit. When I fist got here there was sort of hap-hazard art group that was halfway organized for the weekend slot but mostly we just sat around reading the newspaper. The woman who was supposed to be there for the purpose of the group never had anything specific planned. She was presumably around my age and, although very pleasant to be around, seemed as though she was only with us for the means of filling a quota. One day though, about three weeks into my stay here, she came in and announced that she would be replaced with someone better suited to the eating disorders unit. Its been almost two months since that announcement now and the scant, bedraggled, art supply remnants sit collecting dust.

The general consensus around here seems to be that the lack of an art therapy group, a real art therapy group, is not the ideal. There are few select groups that art therapy seems to be very beneficial to and one of those is the treatment of eating disorders, especially where body image is concerned. All of this, not so much taking it but counseling with art therapy is something that I am extremely interested in. It is something that has caused a whirling excitement of hope for a while now. Every time I think of being able to help others in that way I can’t help but feel almost a giddy centering sensation.

I’m scared too, of course. I can prospectively see myself getting passionately woven into the thick of art therapy dynamics but there are aspects of this dream that I am not so solid on. First off is how the get there. I can’t readily be of any accountable access to others if I’m still engulfed in an eating disorder myself. I have taken that step though. I am on my way to recovery and, although I wouldn’t feel comfortable really practicing with potential clients until I was at least a year in, I now need to bring some focus onto whats next. What scares me about the whole thing is the possibility of disappointment. I’m terrified of wanting something so badly and having it fall through like so many other miscellaneous dreams. If I expect the worst and prepare myself for possible failure then it surely will be laid to rot but if I hold hope too tightly then I’ll be broken if I can’t achieve.

I’ll need help. I know I’ll need help with this just as I’ll need help with recovery once I get home, but it’s hard to say so. I’m so used to not relying on people. sometimes I say that if I’ve learned anything in life it is how to be self-sufficient but thats not always a good thing. In general I don’t like to believe that people will do what they say and, because of that, I try to do everything myself. Past experiences have just taught me that its easier that way so I don;t have to be mad at people if they do let me down. I’ll work something out though. Asking for help may very well be the hardest part of this endeavor.

The lack of descent art therapy here versus the heightened interest in it from the group has put a new and unexpected spin on things though. It seems that I have been voted the unofficial leader of a new impromptu art therapy group. I have checked out project ideas and inventoried the supplies at our disposal so I think I’m at least somewhat close to prepared. Its another new adventure and it kicks off tomorrow morning. I have my fingers crossed.

Looking Towards

Okay, I don’t usually do things like this but I was directed towards a site today that intrigued me. I know a little about the different zodiac signs and how mine pertains to me but not anything beyond the generalizations for the month it spans. This site though, it goes by the specific day a person was born on, and I fund mine to be dead on. Crazy coincidence or is there something to the unknown movements of the universe?

June 26 Birthday Astrology

June 26 Cancers are blessed with brilliant and creative minds. They enjoy conversation yet feel frustrated with its limitations. It is easy to mistake these loner types as being unhappy since their disposition is incredibly solemn. Yet under the calm and quiet surface is a wicked sense of humor that can cut their scholarly reputation to ribbons.

The typical June 26 native has a powerful personality that attracts others. However, their complexity can be exhausting for all but those who love them best. In romance, they may be far too analytical to give themselves up to its uncertainties. Despite their bohemian nature, they thrive when part of a relationship or marriage.

Children and Family
June 26 natives are not emotionally bound to their childhood. They may even dismiss it as a somewhat irrelevant part of their lives. Once they have their own children, these formerly self-absorbed people become tender and vulnerable in their parental role.

Health
June 26 people can be quite fussy about their health, worrying that their long hours at work will put an unavoidable strain on their physical constitution. For this reason they are careful to get plenty of physical exercise, and to watch what they eat. Verbal communication is the forte of June 26 individuals, and they make effective writers, public speakers, teachers, and therapists.

Dreams and Goals
June 26 people wish to influence their world in a meaningful way. They will pursue this goal throughout their lives, sometimes feeling cheated if they are not able to accomplish it.

This is the site:

http://entertainment.howstuffworks.com/june-26-birthday-astrology.htm

If you just scroll down the page to your sign and then click on your birthday you might just be surprised. I know I was! Despite all of this though, throughout this recovery process I have found more and more things out about myself that I either thought I had lost or didn’t know existed at all. Its been an amazing journey and I know I don’t ever want to go back to where I came from.

I’ll Pass

Its another weekend and I am so close to getting 4a and passes I can practically taste it. What happens is that you have to hit your 90% two times, for me that would be Monday and Wednesday, and then at team meeting on Thursday I will get the official “go ahead”. I already have this coming weekend booked as far as places I want to go and I can barely contain the anxious excitement that makes me jittery at the thought of exploring. The city is laid out before me and all I have left is the green light of health.

The deal with passes is that you write one out on a formatted sheet of paper and drop it in the request box so the staff can review it at one of the 2 team meetings held during the week. The yellow sheet of paper that gets filled out is very specific, especially when it comes to eating meals out. You have to not only be exact about what you are going to go do while out but also how you will get there. They need specific departure and return times and, most importantly, where we plan on eating. All passes span across the time of at least one of the daily meals and sometimes, at the end, two meals  and/or an overnight out. Many people live or have family in the area and the “practice” of returning home can be very beneficial.

The most important part of a written pass is the part of the meal. On the unit we have a thick alphabetized binder of menus from around the city. For a pass we not only have to write down where we are eating but also what we plan on ordering down to drinks and sauces used. Beyond that we even have to write down a backup plan in case what we want to order isn’t available. One of the biggest inspections a pass gets in the review process is Sally, the unit’s dietitian, approving of our meal construction. As of late I have been perusing the menus and just jotting down some combinations that work, trying to model a plate of food out based off the components that come on our tray here. Tomorrow I will be going over my choices with Sally because she actually won’t be here for my first 2 weeks on passes.

I can feel the excitement for this taste of newly acquired recovery strength building as I write. My plans for this coming Saturday start off around 1 pm. Just after lunch on the unit I’ll be off to navigate the subway down to Sullivan Street where I have a 2:00 hair appointment scheduled at Mudhoney. Heather recommended the place and, after checking it out online, it looks like its right up my alley. After that is a bit of window shopping in the area and then dinner and an evening movie with actual movie popcorn. I can only imagine how tired I’ll be returning back by 8 pm for snack.

Then, on Sunday, is the Bust magazine Renegade craft fair in Queens. Handmade goodies with quirky personality? Yes, please! Count me in! So that day I’ll be eating lunch out and I’m pretty sure I will be joined by Benji and Amy.

At this point I’ve got my fingers and toes crossed that everything goes smoothly. If all of it pans out it will be just what I have been waiting for.

Moving on to the next step!

Of Two Minds

With eating disordered patients there is a general idea that they are of two minds. There is the normal mind, with its natural thought processes and preferences, and then there is the eating disordered mind. In the beginning, and really for a long time after anorexia started to take its toll, I had a big problem identifying the two as separate. As an eating disorder gets worse with time the normal mind, the one that made me who I am, got weaker until I didn’t know what my own thoughts and opinions of various things were anymore.

For me the eating disordered voice just came in and took over without my even realizing it. The strength of it was overwhelming but I was hesitant to say anything about it because, to comment on its growing demands, was like admitting that I had second person in my head. It was like hearing voices but not audibly; only within the realm of thought. Through word association alone I would think “okay, mind + voices = delusional = schizophrenia”, but I knew I wasn’t crazy and I didn’t want to give anyone reason to question that. That may seem like a strange statement from a girl who, at the same time, was visibly starving herself, but those words are actually a good illustration of the thought process within sickness.

Many girls use the technique of giving their eating disorder a name. Once it has the definition of something like Ed, Jack, Jane or whatever, it makes the process of distinction from the disorder’s long list of rules a bit easier. Once I could accept that it wasn’t actually me, or what I remembered of me, giving the orders, the path to contradicting them became clearer. Sure, there were still brambles and quicksand everywhere, and there is even still some these days, but at least I can now see the direction I need to go in and walk away.

To think, at any time, that your head is home to something so foreign to all you know, is horrifying. It really can make a person feel like the loony bin is the next step but its much more common than many people with eating disorders realize. For us, we have to keep in mind that all the disordered thought, all the regulations and backwards reasoning, are not the products of a healthy vitalized mind. All the times I was silently told to “just not worry about those few extra bites” or “if you had 20 calories more here you have to take away 20 somewhere else” just plain and simply wasn’t me.

The acknowledgement is just the first step though. Even if you can separate it there is still an incredible amount of strength behind it’s words. To have an eating disorder, to have that voice, has been often equated to being in an abusive relationship. In the beginning it came as protection, a controlled focus that created order in a chaotic world. As time went on though that control I thought I had with it slowly became an illusion as it grew evident that in actuality it held a deathly grip over me. It takes and incredible amount of work to shake off something with its claws buried that deep but its definitely a goal to word towards.

To Keep Going

I was reminded of surrender today. Its what I’m doing here and I’m glad I was reminded of it. I needed to be. Lately I have been more frequently going back and forth from my normal positivity of the situation to questioning it periodically, and thats not something I want to get caught up in. Not now. Not yet. Its too early to anything except go with the flow. Heather was neither talking to me or about me when the subject of surrender in regards to the program arose. I just happened to overhear a few words and somehow something clicked for me. I have to reconfirm the trust that I handed over to the team when I showed up those two months ago. It was never a question for me to trust my health to them. It was just something I knew that, with stepping through those doors, I would be doing.

There isn’t just surrender within these walls though. The other option that some take is compliance and there is a huge difference between that and the act of surrendering. To surrender is to claim that things just are the way they are. It involves a faith in the system; whatever that system may be to any one person. Compliance is begrudging. It implies a following of rules in action but not so much within the mind. To only just comply with the program doesn’t make for a very positive chance at continued recovery once you leave. To comply is to retain a sense of rebellion and not too many people get through something like this while trying to fight the system thats structured to save them.

There is a well-written research essay by a man named Harry Tiebout called “Surrender Versus Compliance in Therapy“. In it he states that: “In compliance, and individual accepts reality consciously but not unconsciously. He accepts as a practical fact that he can not at that moment conquer reality, but lurking in his unconscious is the feeling, ‘there’ll come a day’, which implies no real acceptance and demonstrates conclusively that the struggle is still going on. On the other hand, the ability to accept reality functions on the unconscious level, and relaxation ensues with freedom from strain and conflict.” The level of acceptance that leads to surrender in situations like this, I believe, is truly within the human capacity. Its just a matter of finding the building blocks that lead to it.

I completely understand that surrender is not an easy step to take and I definitely had both my years of complete rebellion and of mere compliance before I got there. Sure I was agreeing, going along with the program, but in no way did I have any sort of enthusiastic or whole-hearted approval. I still wanted very much to do it myself. I did want recovery but only on my own terms. I can see too, with some of the other girls here, that there is a willingness to go along for the time being but their inner reservations make that willingness thin and fragile. It won’t be until that compliance crumbles, until they have hit some sort of a bottom, so to speak, that the room for surrender even becomes available to them. As long as any part of compliance is in action there is no space for surrender.

This recovery program is varies greatly from the one I was in 2 years ago but, despite the multitude of differences in structure, one of the main differences is within me. My attitude and openness of accepting all that they are trying to do for me has brought about the surrender that is getting me through the tough times like these. I know it all sounds very spiritual and I’m not a spiritual person, but I have to put my life into the hands of someone else because trying to work things out myself is what got me to Columbia in the first place.

I need to be right here right now.

Oh, the Days

I don’t know. Maybe its just one of “those” days, whatever that means. Its a Sunday evening, after dinner, and all is quiet around the unit. We tried for our fresh air break, trekking down to the second floor all bundled in sweaters and hoodies, but it was raining harder outside than what could be determined from the fourth floor window. Opening the heavy double-doored portal to the park our small group was thoroughly chilled by a gust of moisture-permiated cold air. We schlepped back upstairs. So now everyone is doing their own thing as we wait out the remainder of CO. Its pretty astounding actually, and almost a little eerie. It hasn’t been this quiet around here since the rash of new arrivals; back when so many were getting ready to leave and constantly out on passes.

I can hear the staff on duty laughing in one of the back rooms. In half spanish and half english its hard to decipher whats so funny but, at least from what I can gather, its got to do with something on the computer. For however subdued things might seem at the moment though, this morning was the opposite. 10 a.m. and we were promptly out the door. It was 6 of us on level 3 or above, Cora and Jonathan for staff escort, and Brynn who was only on level 2 but had special permission to attend.

Actually, the trip itself was of Brynn’s making. There wasn’t much time so it was more of a speed-shopping trip than anything else but it was all her idea. I was initially surprised because usually the staff doesn’t go out of their written boundaries to grant this sort of thing often. They really try to stay consistent with the rules and privileges that come with level changes so there is no foothold for pointed discrepancies. It was very apparent that Brynn, who only had enough to wear countable on one hand, needed clothes. Because of this Target became the destination of choice and we all hopped on the one train heading northwest.

Although we had to be back by lunch I would say the trip was very successful. Not one of us, including the staff, came back empty-handed and everyone seemed to be in an outwardly good mood on the way home. I don’t know what this new obscure silence is about but it can only last so long. The overall moods of the unit at any one time seem to roll in and out like the tide so I know this will be over eventually. Until then I think I’ll just make the most of the rare peace and quiet.