After weeks.... sorry, months.... of agonizing over taking a leave of absence the day is finally here. It's my last day at work for 4.5 weeks. (BIG EXHALE). Right now I have knots in my stomach, I feel like I need to vomit, and I'm scared. But I am doing the right thing. Not for my husband, not for my daughter but for ME. Everyone knows now-- including my mom. Her husband told her, which went against advice I received but I had to trust my gut. She was upset initially that I didn't tell her but I think her concern overshadowed that and I received the phone call I was hoping for.... She told me she loved me (which I've obviously never ever doubted) and that she's going to support me. As for the EDNOS--- she was not pleased and this is going to be a battle with her. She was pissed the first time around and she's not any better this time. She questions what I eat, adds food to my plate,etc.... You know, all the things a mom would do in this situation. But I'm not mad. I'm not even annoyed. I told her that sometimes a girl needs her mom-- no matter how old she is.... I'm sure that I will work on this codependency issue ad nauseum when I enter (drum roll please) The Psychiatric Hospital.
Yes, I sat through a two hour evaluation and was recommended to TWO programs. I think that means I'm super crazy. Anyway, I was recommended to one for my EDNOS and another "women's program." My response to the ED program was simply "I do not want supervised meals, I am not going to be escorted to the bathroom and I am not meeting with a nutritionist because I don't give a shit about the food pyramid." Yup. That pretty much sums that shit up. She quickly realized that wasn't the program for me and honestly, at 119 lbs (depending on the scale), I'd be the fat chick in the room. Who wants that stigma??
Oh one very important piece of advice, when being evaluated by a mental health professional for placement in an outpatient psychiatric hospital, and you're asked if you have homicidal thoughts, don't respond with, "Only when I'm driving." They take that shit seriously. I thought it was pretty fucking funny to be honest. I was wrong..... Either that or she didn't have much of a sense of humor.
The evaluation was PAINFUL and EXHAUSTING. It caused a great deal of money to be spent on some serious retail therapy. Have I mentioned that I've bought 4 pairs of shoes in the last 2 weeks??? And that's not counting the Louboutins that I scored in NYC. Yup. I see lots of shopping in my future but I may just stick to Old Navy. My program, which will include cutters, crack addicts and prostitutes consists of 7 hours of intense therapy for 5 days. Are there desperate housewives types (a la me) there as well, sure but we're the minority for sure.
There will be HOURS of one on one. There will also be workshops and group therapy. I'll need a pen and notebook but somehow I think showing up with my Donnie Wahlberg notebook wouldn't be perceived well. Unless of course there is a huge D-Dub fan in my group. She may appreciate it. In the time it's taken me to decide to go, share my decision and come to terms with it I have accepted that I have an eating disorder. I'm a grown ass woman with an eating disorder. I'm not 22 looking for attention. I have an addiction... and it's real. Sadly, I have people in my life who I consider good friends who can be judgmental and I've told them I've been under stress when asked about my rapid weight loss but I'm not going to hide behind that anymore.
My father in law is a recovering alcoholic. I've recently spoken at length with him about this and he tells me I didn't relapse.... that it never goes away and it's a demon you fight for ever but every morning he wakes up and says, I didn't have a drink yesterday and that keeps him going. He's been sober 25 years now. No matter how we slice what's going on with me-- depression, EDNOS, anxiety..... I need help. I'm taking the first step on a long journey. I've gained support in places that I didn't know about. People in my life who love me and care about me that I just didn't know. I don't mean my mom or husband but random people who have suddenly appeared in my life. I thought by accident at first, but now I believe my dad lead them to me to help me.
I'm scared as fuck. I really am. I'm about to dig deep into suppressed feelings that have been stuffed to the bottom of the barrel. The unknown causes a great deal of stress to me and I don't know what's going to happen as a result of this. During the evaluation I was told that a great deal of the women drop out before completing the 5 days. She asked that I give it at least 2 days before making that decision. Well, if I can give it two, I can give it fucking 5. I'm not going through all this shit for no reason.
A big questions weighing on my mind is, does my being so fucked up have anything to do with being an only child? The answer is yes, loud and clear. I don't blame my mom. She was the best mom and did everything to protect me but I think I was protected too much. I've said it before, being an only child comes with a great deal of self imposed perfectionist pressure. Now that's NOT my mom's fault. That's mine. I've created this world of stress and anxiety.
What do I hope to accomplish? I have no goals. I am going in open minded, clear headed and ready. ....but come and talk to me after day one.
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