Take Me Home

During my stay at Oliver Pyatt, I desperately wanted to go home. But looking back, I wanted out for the wrong reasons. I wanted out so I could relapse. I thought I was manipulating my parents and my treatment team, but I was really manipulating myself. 

December 12, 2016, 8:04 pm:

I’ve never been more homesick. It’s painful how much I miss home.

I’m conflicted about the news I received yesterday from Amy. She called me for session right after she got off the phone with my mom. They’re giving me a pass home for Christmas: December 23-27. Then I go to true PHP with mom until January 13 (mom slipped up and gave me that date on the phone last night—apparently she wasn’t supposed to discuss that with me).

At first I was very upset when Amy told me about this plan. I cried for the first time in her session and I kept pushing to discharge permanently at Christmas. She kept saying we’re only three weeks off which won’t make a difference in the grand scheme of things. But if three extra weeks won’t make a difference, then why would three fewer weeks?

She said she can’t tell me what I want to hear right now, but she scheduled a treatment team meeting for tomorrow. She pressured me to “use the group” in Process Group immediately following her session. I did because I felt that I had to, but I was really glad I did. Just more evidence that honesty is always best, especially when you don’t want to talk. I just vented and sobbed. I didn’t want feedback, just open ears.

I feel awkward and guilty now because the team is keenly aware that I don’t trust them, that I feel disconnected and much prefer my team at home. That awkwardness and guilt prevailed in my session with Chelsea today. I shared my drawing of my eating disorder and my “Beautiful” image and then we painted.

Rudi dropped a bomb on me today in session. She forced me to cry and vent about weight restoration and meal plan “struggles,” then proceeded to dismiss everything I described as “judgments.”

I begged get her to shrink my meals and increase my snacks so I’d have less to eat at one time, but she said that would be more painful. She said I’m feeling so shitty because I’m close to weight stabilization. Comforting, but how close is close?

Here’s the aforementioned bomb: Mom is portioning everything for me on my pass at Christmas. She doesn’t know yet. We’re discussing this tomorrow during the treatment team, and she’s going to learn my meal plan. How am I going to restrict when I go home if she is this involved?

I’m fucked.

I want weight maintenance and I want a low meal plan and I want Mom’s trust and I want control. Control at home. Control with my body. Control with the food.

How I’m coping with my homesickness: participating in the experience and improving the moment (look who’s using her DBT skills). We just had an ice cream party and we’re watching Elf. I also read lots of Letting Go today.

All I want is to see my mom. I want to fast forward to this weekend.

I can’t wait until treatment’s over. I just want my control back.


 


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