I wrote constantly during my latest round of treatment for my eating disorder. I have several journals from the experience which I am now typing out to use for a later project. The journals can be hard to look at – I experience a range of emotions. Sad because I remember what that hopelessness felt like. Empowerment because look how far I’ve come. Guilt because I left my family for two months to get treatment four hours away in Chicago. I just wanted to go home. This was written on 1/26/22:
Have you ever been away for so long that you swear you’ll never take your home for granted again?
I’ve been feeling that way lately.
I love my family but now I’m going to show them I love them even more.
I love my city but now I’m going to be the proudest Toledoan there ever was.
I’m going to play with my kitties.
I’m going to water my plants the perfect amount.
I might even clean my house.
I just want to be home.
It was very exciting when I was finally given my discharge date and had something to look forward to. It was definitely a light at the end of the tunnel.
On 1/28/22 I found out I would be officially discharged on 2/13/22.
This was written on 1/30/22:
Things I Want to Do When I Get Home:
- Put more effort into my job. It has its moments, but for the most part, I really enjoy my job and I work for people who genuinely care for me. I have the potential to do some great things and really help people. I need to make it happen. I need to show the higher-ups that my program is important and that the grant that funds it needs to be renewed every year.
- Spend more quality time with my daughter. There are so many times we are in the same room together and I’m not even paying attention to her. That’s got to change. My daughter needs her mom and now I see how much she misses me.
- Take recovery seriously. I need to get connected with an outpatient team because it’s going to be really hard not to fall back into old habits and there’s no fucking way I’m going through all this again. When the thirteenth comes I’m getting the fuck out and I’m never coming back.
- Write! Write! Write! That goes without saying. I need to give my blog more love!
Also, when I get home I’m going to be all about personal care. I’ve only shaved once in the past six weeks. I haven’t had a bush in a long time and now I’m pretty hairy. I’m going to moisturize and wash my hair. Pluck my eyebrows. I’ve really let myself go while in treatment and I know I will feel better once I do all of these things.
I can’t wait to take a bubble bath!
I recently found these two entries while typing up journal #5 (of 8) and I just thought they were a lot of fun to read now that I’ve been home for a few months.
Have I kept my promises? For the most part, I have! (Except for the house cleaning part.)
I still struggle in recovery but these journals are proof of the progress I’ve made.
arw = are.
I think my inner pirate was expressing themselves!
Ashes, I have never been in your situation, nor do I have the right to disavow your feelings.
However, I wonder if you have ever tried to transpose your situation to someone with a physical disease. If someone was diagnosed with an advanced case of cancer, and was sent to a hospital for an extended treatment away from their family, and then got a prognosis of remission, not cure, how would that person have felt through the process?
They probably would have felt hopeless at the beginning, but would that memory make them sad to look back on it? Hopelessness is a normal reaction to a life-threatening disease, why would someone be sad to remember that feeling?
And why would someone feel guilt for leaving their family to get treatment for a life-threatening disease? If they did not get treatment when they could have, and then became disabled or died because they did not seek help, and thus left their family permanently weakened, THAT would be something to feel guilty about.
Your situation is NOT less serious because it is a psychological, rather than a physical, disease. The risks, and the rewards, arw every bit as much real and serious. Please NEVER minimize the danger of the tightrope you are walking on. Both your life AND the lives of your family hang in the balance.
You make a very good point. Thank you. Your comment brought me to tears.
Well said, comment #2 (if not #1…LOL, it’s not even Talk Like a Pirate Day!)
I had been struggling to put into words what I was feeling, and moarscienceplz nails it.