Sit, Stay, the hardest part of healing.

Sit- stay- the hardest part of healing

My time in treatment has been like a rollercoaster. Ok that sounds so cliche but there’s a reason for cliches isn’t there? I came to treatment after being in a hospital for 30 days- fed by a feeding tube. I entered 50 pounds and was discharged somewhere in the 70’s. I had the best days of my life after leaving the hospital, mainly because I had a newfound appreciation for life after having almost died(not exaggerating here) in the hospital. I literally saw death and had days that I thought I wouldn’t make it. One day in particular I felt so so so depleted that I called my mum in fright that I would be gone by the time she got there to visit me. I begged her to drive faster because I didn’t want to die in a hospital bed alone. When she walked through the door I felt a sense of relief yet such deep sorrow and sadness because I was sure those would be my last moments. How sad to be spending them in a diaper, hooked up to machines. The only thing that I was happy for was that my mum was present. I asked her to call my father and she thought I was exaggerating, as did he when I said I wasn’t going to make it. I apologized for not being the perfect daughter. He didn’t understand.

I understood. I had seen my life flash before me and realized how vain, lifeless, mundane and shallow my life had been. After college I was so lost and unsure of what to do with myself that I decided to focus on the image- something for some ungodly known reason I have always focused on (past life shit for sure) and developed a deep, dark relationship with ED. For any of you who don’t know -ED is the man (or woman) who haunts millions of us and tells us our bodies are bad, that we are unworthy, that food is our enemy and that our self worth is determined by the number on a scale. Ed is the worst boyfriend or lover that I have ever had and I have had some really bad ones.

That is what saddened me the most in the hospital that day. I sent text messages to my sister and my good friends expressing my gratitude for their love but also my apologies for how deeply entrenched in ED I had been for so many years. Before my mum did come I remember saying to myself “seriously? Fuck, this is really it?” I wasn’t done yet. I thought of what I had accomplished or rather, want I had yet to accomplish and I had this feverish excitement for all things that I wanted to still do in my life. For whatever reason, the Universe decided it wasn’t my time yet and that it was going to let me prove to it-maybe for one last god damn time- how badly I wanted those things, how badly I wanted life, and how strong I could be in the face of ED. I decided from that point on that the universes gave me a second, or maybe at that point it was the third or fourth or 100th chance, that I would devote my life to something greater than my image- greater than myself. I was decidedly devoted to believing in the divine and trying to somehow submit to it. Whoever it is, god, the universe, Buddha, Krishna, Muhammad, whoever, whatever, I just knew that IT had a plan for me and the message was clear- you’ve got a purpose and you haven’t completed it yet. After realizing that I had been granted another chance, I pulled up my diapers, put on my oversized extra small yoga shorts and committed to a new life.

The plan was to be discharged from the hospital on June 3rd and go straight to the intake at the eating disorder program. On may 22, I woke up ready to mediate and do my daily routine when a new doctor came on who decided that he was going to change everything and release me that day, without the feeding tube, pronto. Most of me was happy about this. I would be free of the tube, back home and able to enjoy the fresh air, water and sunshine. The other part of me didn’t feel ready. I had no choice though, and within a few hours my things were packed (commode and all- my parents were pissed and adamant on taking the toilet home) and was on my way back home. I can’t explain how blissful and happy those 10 days between May 22 and June 3rd were for me. In a way, that doctor that I was so angry at for discharging me early, gave me a blessing (and a curse because the blessing didn’t last forever- alas nothing does) by allowing me to go home and spend time before the program. I had a new found appreciation for life- for the little things- sunshine, my mums garden, scents, and sights. Everything looked new and colors were more vibrant . I swear there were some greens that I had never seen before. I documented my journey via social media and had so much more to work with than in the hospital, both creatively and food wise. I looked forward to a fresh green smoothie every morning with mint from our garden, I went for little strolls taking pictures of flowers and insects, something I had never really allowed myself to do in recent years. I was always go go go and go to the damn gym at that. I actually did feel like I had died in the hospital – and home was my heaven.

Then, reality set in and June 3rd came along and I had my intake at the eating disorder program. I thought, or hoped, that because I was doing so well at home by eating, nourishing and gaining weight that they would see that and tell me that I could do it at home. Again, no such  luck. In fact, they didn’t even give me time to breathe or think after asking me a million questions. “You start today, and welcome to lunch.” I don’t remember my first lunch at the program, but I know that I was terrified and pissed as hell. The program doesn’t honor veganism, nor do they align with my values as far as a plant based, clean eating diet. I couldn’t finish even close to half of my food and was given the replacement- Ensure ( ironically made by the same company as my feeding tube formula in the hospital- big Pharma) Fortunately, now, though I have gotten to a place where I can say to myself -ok the program doesn’t honor my veganism, but they do honor my vegetarianism, so lets appreciate that, keep up with the veganism at home, and fight like hell when you’re out of the program to do all you can to promote a vegan lifestyle and one of do no harm. The days when they put milk or eggs in from of me I often cry, but I ask for forgiveness (from the universe) and promise that I will do all  that I can once free from ED and free from the program.

The other patients (mostly women except for now one male) are wonderful. In the beginning I was so in my own world and so unhappy and fighting every minute that I barely was able to connect with the fellow patients. I was dismissive of almost any and everything that was said or suggested- largely because they didn’t honor veganism but also because I am just a stubborn taurus. That made the first few weeks hard- beside the fact that they put me in a wheelchair just a fews days into it- “you need to conserve your energy.” They also implemented a rule that if I were to do isometric exercises ( I stretch and move around in my seat a lot because I AM in tune with my body and my true self) then they would give me Ensure. One of the clinicians even said that they all thought I was clenching my butt cheeks too much. I know, believe me, I wanted to slap him too.

The juxtaposition that I feel between my true self at the program – having to eat animal products, refined sugar, and artificial crap, and my true at home self who wants to love all eat green smoothies ,spinach, do yoga and do wrong to no one is a terrible feeling. For the first few weeks I would get in the car after programming and scream- I was angry at myself – at the program- at my parents – but mostly myself for getting to the point that I had to be under the control of others.

Now that I am 6 weeks into treatment ( and ready to be discharged) I have found benefit ( thank you Waylon for the language) in a lot of the programs therapy and groups. I have become much more comfortable expressing my feelings- to not only people that I don’t know very well, but also to my family, which is a big step. I have also discovered a way to express my needs and dictate them for my healing and to aid in my journey. This is something that I have always had a difficult time doing, and I think so many people have a hard time doing- expressing and voicing their needs to others in an effective and efficient way. So many of us are either afraid or unsure of how to express our needs or ask for help that we try to do it all on our own,.  We take the weight of the world on our shoulders and it becomes so heavy that it causes anger and resentfulness, often times at outside sources that are really not responsible for our unhappiness. Also, anger arises and we really are not connected to our true selves. So, luckily, I have been able to find a way to show and voice my needs, “Mum I need you to stand with me in the kitchen when I prepare dinner because I swear the fucking broccoli is screaming at me ( actually I love broccoli but you get my gist) Its scary to do that -to express those needs- not only because it points out and acknowledges my eating disorder, but it also makes me feel weak. Asking for someone else to help me simply make a fucking stir fry ( also adhd doesn’t help) makes me feel incompetent. But that is so much of what I struggle with with ED- and surely what anyone who also is in a relationship with Ed struggles with, is the power things. The wanting to control it all and do it all on your own because god knows you have to suffer and you must be perfect and to do that no one else can meddle. Its a Lonely life, the life with ED, and he loves it.

I do feel a sadness for that loss of excitement for life that I felt when I first was discharged from the hospital a month ago. I am often so stuffed full of foods that I don’t love or wouldn’t choose on my own at the program during the week that I no longer have room for those green smoothies that I would wake up looking forward to every day. Damn those 10 days were such a tease, must of been one of EDS many tricks. On the weekends I try to cherish my time with my beloved plant based vegan foods ( almost pathetically). In those sacred 10 days ( that is officially how I will refer to them from this point on) I would dance in my seat on a daily basis. Now, even at home, I am worried or have in the back of my mind that dancing in my seat is bad. I cried a the sight of a bright green leaf or the yellow in a flower when I first was released from the hospital, now I have to fight to see the world in such beauty again, and this is sad to me. I am saddened because I feel I have allowed myself to be so taken over by the programming and the feeling of loss of control that I’ve lost that love for life. Its strange because that part of me that was vibrant and dancing was also a little neurotic and flighty- something others- especially my parents and the program don’t like, but I sometimes like it. Not to say that I like being neurotic and flighty, but I would rather be neurotic and flighty and living and thriving and feeling and Vibbing, than numb and depressed and succumbing to the man. Ok, the program is not the man ,but you know what I mean. I don’t mind having bouts of ADHD and bits of rage if it means that I can actually FEEL it. Does the make me crazy or does that just make me Alexis? Does it mean that I actually GET IT and am not choosing the path that so many of our society takes? I ponder this idea and have pondered it a great deal of my life- feeling like I have to stifle my fire and put it out, dumb it down and stuff myself to appease others and make them more comfortable- so I can be more normal- so I can fit in and meet the BMI requirement- in that way.

Alas, there IS, however, a sense of peace that I am able to appreciate with this new calmness and also a new connection with my sacral creative chakra ( when I’m not feeling like I have to put the fire out) that has come about in my time in recovery- mostly because I have been forced to sit. I have not only taken more photos and been creative in that way , but I’ve also done more art( in fact I have a practice now of painting after every meal to get out my energy without physically getting it out- as that is not allowed), I’ve also written a lot more- poetry, and other forms.

I am hopeful that I will continue healing and finding the beauty in my life- taking what i can from the program and moving on. I am hopeful for health and furthering my creative self, but to do that I know that  I must sit in the stench of the shit that smells the worst- and eat the shit non vegan sandwich, as Elizabeth Gilbert would say. I have to do the hard part, before truly being free from ED, but I am determined and ready to free myself from this oh so abusive and destructive relationship. I am ready for REAL love, self love and love of others. I am this, I am Satya, and for now, that is my truth.

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