Looking Into Treatment

I feel like there’s a storm brewing under me. I picture myself on the beach. Sitting on a towel, alone, hands hugging my legs to my chest and my eyes fixated on the water. Its movement is steady, calm and natural. I feel this rare peace wash over me. I am at a place where I remember to thank God for my ability to take this breath of salty air and enjoy the warmth of the sun on my skin.

There is hope. Everything—in this moment—is ok.

If I look for it, I can see the clouds brewing in the distance. If I only focus on what’s in front of me now, then that’s all I have to handle. I can deal with the storm when it’s staring right back at me.  

There’s a lot going on inside of me and in my life.

Not that you people don’t have problems, but we are going to talk about me now. I need to address everything or else that storm will come with more power.

My Granny is having hospice care come in. My Granny that would go on two walks a day with two crazy dogs. My granny is so damn witty. My granny with the slight English accent. My granny that always has room for dessert. My granny who enjoys a vodka tonic before dinner and showed me how to make it while also setting the table in her home in Tallahassee.

My dad, her son, lets slip emotions I’ve never seen displayed on his face. I feel helpless as I watch him watch his mom slip away. I’ve never seen him so human.

On top of this I went to The Moore Center in Bellevue to look into treatment. That stirred a lot of shit in me. The doctor asked about high school life, when did I start my habits, why do I think I do this.

She even had to clarify…SO YOU THINK YOU’RE FAT?

No, I love myself you asshole of course I think I’m fat. I’m at an eating disorder clinic.

They weighed me. Wouldn’t let me see how much I weighed. Now some stranger knows one of the most embarrassing things about me.

They want me to do partial hospitalization. It reminds me of prison. THAT brings up more emotions and shit.

Talking about high school. How confused I was. How trapped. How hated I felt.

Talking about my parents. What was home like?

This woman brought up everything I’ve been shoving-ha literally with food-down and hiding away.

All of my pain, hate, anger and confusion in one stupid 15 minute conversation.

I went into the bathroom and swore just for my friends that I told I’d come here I’d stick through the end.

I’m glad I did.

I spoke with another girl that made me feel more normal, comfortable. She outlined the program and I actually am looking forward to it?

Let’s not go that far.

Again I cannot express how much support I’ve gotten from all of you and God at just that right moment. I have received texts, calls, letters, books, conversations that are irreplaceable and that boost me up because right now I am so broken.

I’m not sure how to end this other than I know that this is what I need and I’m starting to believe that I deserve freedom and it is possible. One step. One day. One prayer at a time.

God bless.