#sometimes someone says something at like 3 am while talking about horton hears a who and it rewires your brain

[atomic-freezer]

"When the last voices crying out "WE'RE HERE" finally stopped, and the fires leapt at the edges of the bell tower, that is when realization struck-"

[notthecanadianaverage]

All 65 ho! 😤

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

I mean I guess kind of sometimes? As someone with ADHD, object permanence is a big thing so if I don't see you, you aren't real xD

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

Um, it varies, actually. Generally speaking, I'm not afraid. But sometimes I have lots of nightmares and the darkness is awful and I will deadass sleep with the light on. Also while I'm not afraid, if I hear sounds, I am terrified xD

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Jason Mamoa. He seems like a fine person but something about his appearance triggers my fight or flight.

4. What is your favorite word?

Hippopomonstrosesquipedaliophobia

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

I think maybe either a birch or a weeping willow?

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

That's not yellow

7. What shirt are you wearing?

I'm wearing a green Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time shirt that my sister got for me a few years ago at Fan Expo.

8. What do you label yourself as?

Panromantic asexual. Gender identity wise, demigirl. I recently learned what omnisexual is and I'm curious, but I don't want to come out again so panromantic it is xD

9. Bright room or dark room?

Bright! Lots of sunlight for plants and reading!

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

I was being trained at work

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

I think 18, just because mentally I'm still there.

12. Who told you they loved you last?

My boyfriend :3 I miss him.

13. Your worst enemy?

Dickface. He called me his step daughter once and I almost fucking lost it in that Tim Hortons. I had to fight so hard not to say anything. I was also fighting some pretty rough food poisoning that week so I was not in the mood to argue xD

14. What is your current desktop picture?

On my computer? I think it's a rat xD it's either me with Cortana on my shoulder or Willow peeking through some bars, I can't remember.

15. Do you like someone?

I like my boyfriend. A lot. I mean I hope I do since we have been dating for 6 years xD but I also have a celebrity squish. Patrick Dempsey. Motherfucker. Yes. That smile. Those EYES.

16. The last song you listened to?

https://youtu.be/0Eh4b0Ge-sM

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

That power hungry cheeto. But only if I wouldn't get caught.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Dickface. He is a child abuser and just a shitty person all around. I called him a stupid idiot on my birthday and lost my fucking mind because I didn't actually mean to and he looked PISSED.

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

I don't know who, but I would make them cuddle because I am touched starved and need a fucking hug xD

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

I'm doing this all in my phones notes so I can't add a picture, but I love my tattoos and piercings! I have both nostrils pierced, my septum and snakebites. Tattoo wise, I have the Triforce of Courage on my left hand, a small blue hard on my right thumb, a beautiful memorial rat tattoo on my left leg, Midna's Fused Shadow on my left arm and Expecto Patronum on my right wrist. I. Need. More.

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

Not gonna lie, I'd probably jerk off xD

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

If I shared it, it wouldn't be a secret.

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

I... don't know

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

I would stick with my normal Subway order: lettuce, tomato, red onions, LOTS OF PICKLES, cheese, black forest ham, mayo and salt and pepper.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Not gonna lie, I would probably get some Subway and maybe some candle making supplies.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

California. I miss my boyfriend. Let's go.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

Joke's on you, I don't really drink alcohol! I would instead request all the apple juice :')

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

Pet rats for everyone!!!!

29. What is your favorite expletive?

I enjoy cunt :3

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

My little stuffed lion. I would also grab my teddy bear seeing as they are always together.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? (Tw rape for this question)

I mean... all of these experiences have made me who I am. But if i can erase one experience without changing who I am, it would be nice to not have been raped.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

I would say Indonesia because volcanoes! But I am also very gay and I don't believe that is a gay friendly country... so... maybe Japan? All of this assuming that the boyfriend is with me. If not, then California.

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

My grandpa. I really miss him... I want him to see how far I've come and I want to spend more time with him.

34. What was your last dream about?

I have been having a weird amount of sex dreams lately...

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

Rat mom? I like to think so! Shameless plug, but I have a blog here called @ratpotatoez where you can see my beautiful chonks. I'm also on Facebook and YouTube.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

I mean yes? But not for like an overnight stay.

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

Yes

38. What is the color of your socks?

Fuck socks

39. What type of music do you like?

Depends on my mood. I love heavier, alternative rock but my heart will forever belong to Simple Plan.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

I think they're both really lovely!

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

Vanilla

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

I don't like football. The only sport I watch is hockey.

43. Do you have any scars?

I am covered in self harm scars (I'm working on covering them up with tattoos). I don't really have any scars with cool stories. I had one that went down my arm but somehow it healed??? Someone in gym class accidentally took a chunk out of my arm with their finger nail and I had a hole in my arm for the longest time!!! I also have a scar on my knee from when I was really young, maybe 3 or 4. I was balancing on some bricks in someone's garden and I lost my balance, fell, and hit my knee on the brick. I remember there being blood running all down my leg as I screamed and cried. So that was fun.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

I don't know. I do know, though, that I want to go to culinary school. I also want to go to school for creative writing.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

My weight. I gained 100+lbs when I went off my anti-depressants and I swelled up like a balloon. I've felt like shit about myself ever since.

46. Are you reliable?

I sure as shit hope so!

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Was it worth it...?

48. Do you hold grudges?

I try not to, but I think I do ._.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

PIGEON RAT

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

"I just really want to punch this horse in the face, okay?"

51. Are you a good liar?

I think so, yes. Trauma does that to you.

52. How long could you go without talking?

When I get super super drained, I go mute. I can stop talking for days at a time.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

I once left the hair dressers with essentially what was a fucking bowl cut. Yea, I wasn't thrilled. I refused to remove my hat.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

Yes. At 3AM. Because fuck a healthy sleep schedule.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

I can do an okay British accent and an okay Indian accent.

56. What do you like on your toast?

Butter. Just butter.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

Um... I don't remember the last time I drew. Actually, that's a lie. I tried drawing a "small town doctor" while playing Drawful. I drew a very tiny doctor with a city skyline behind him.

58. What would be you dream car?

Literally anything with the popup headlights.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I talk to myself in the shower. Granted, I do that everywhere xD it's the only way I can work through my thoughts. I also cry in the shower a lot.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

Yes. We can't be the only ones here.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

I don't really have a favourite. But I do like D. Mostly because it's the first letter of my boyfriends name, but also it reminds me of a woman I helped while working in tech support. She needed help figuring out her gif keyboard so I helped and she was so excited when I told her how to search for gifs. She then started giggling like a little girl saying she wondered what might happen if she searched for DICK. She made my day xD I think about her a lot. I hope she's doing well.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Don't do this to me...

Dragons are obviously amazing but haVE YOU EVER SEEN A DINOSAUR?!?!? LIKE THOSE THINGS ARE REAL. THEY WERE ALIVE. THEY FUCKING RULED THE EARTH. HAVE YOU SEEN A STEGOSAURUS?!?!?!?!?

64. What do you think about babies?

I like babies a lot. Like so much. I have super colourful hair, too, so they seem fascinated with me :') but their little chubby cheeks omg

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

Fun fact: I actually really like the smell of wet dog. It's kind of a really comforting smell.

[jernal]

A Day in Inpatient Eating Disorder Treatment

It’s Monday, weekday 1/5 (unless you’re still new or untrustworthy because then you’re here all weekend too; no leave), breakfast is at 08:00 but we have to be in the lounge at 07:00 for bloodwork. I set my alarm for 06:30. I need this. My alarm starts quiet and gets louder but my brain jolts awake at the first tone; I’m so worried my roommate Miranda is growing to resent me and my alarm. I shower at night so I can get up and out quietly. I’m always tip-toeing. I’m tired though so it takes me a minute to peel myself off of my starchy hospital sheets. I didn’t sleep well because overnight every 20 minutes a nurse walks into our room with her iPhone flashlight on, shining it in our faces and whispering “checks” as if I might not know why she’s here. Sometimes I hold my eyes wide-open, staring, just to unnerve the night nurses. There were two Code-Whites last night too. Alarms and screaming. In Ottawa, the Regional Centre for the Treatment of Eating Disorders (AKA: your only option) is made up of just six beds on the locked general psych ward. Fourth floor, north wing. Code White, Four North. Code Blanc, Quatre Nord. So I get up and tip toe out of my room and into the half-lit hallway. I no longer care about how socially unacceptable it is to walk around a place full of people in my sleep clothes and bare feet. I’m wearing a purple nightgown with thin straps and a low open back; it’s cute. I walk to the nurses station and stand by the reinforced glass window waiting to be noticed by the clerk. It’s Bruno. He never fails to have a positive attitude and light sense of humour - it must not be easy to do in a place like this. He knows that I’m here to ask for my curling iron or straightener. I switch it up every morning. He waves it in front of the glass like a treat in front of a dog. I am the dog. I have no power. He means it as a joke though and I do appreciate him. I have to say please and thank you to him - he doesn’t tolerate my teenager attitude; I’m 24, but living in an environment where I have no rights and am at the mercy of a wide variety of older-adults has made my sass-control regress a bit. While I wait for Bruno there’s a man with long dreadlocks wearing a hospital gown, spinning circles and popping wheelies in a wheelchair close by. I usually avoid interacting with general psych patients but he talks to me a bit. He tells me he killed someone and he’s here until he can be assessed, then he’s probably going back to jail. He seems more sane than the majority of gen psych patients and I’ve never see him before so I talk to him till I have my curling iron. I have to return it once it’s cooled, I’m not allowed to have cords. 

I sneak into our bathroom and close the door before I turn on the light. I’m really concerned with people potentially hating me, letting a stream of blinding light escape from the bathroom would make me easily hate-able. I do my hair and then sit on my bed to do my makeup. Miranda is up by now and I can turn on a light. I take time to do my makeup and my hair, I pick out an outfit and I don’t outfit-repeat for as long as possible. This seems stupid but looking like myself is the one of the few things I have control over. I will not become a sweatpant-wearing, dirty hair, slipper-footed hospital patient. I’m here for a long time and I’m going to gain weight and struggle with that - I don’t need to struggle with feeling ugly and frumpy too. I apply my usual false lashes. 

It’s 06:50 now. The six of us have an unspoken arrangement when it comes to bloodwork: first come, first serve, first leave. The two smokers, Nate and Amy are usually first. We meet in one of the two lounges. There are a couple psych patients in there too. One is an old man in his hospital gown going hard on the elliptical in the corner. There’s just the one exercise machine, it’s pretty random and for some of us it’s very hard to ignore; we could risk being discharged on the spot for getting on that thing. The room otherwise has a TV encased in plexiglass on the wall, a variety of leatherish couches, chairs, some tables, two vending machines and a small shelving unit with mushy ancient puzzles and boardgames. None of them have all their pieces, that’s a guarantee. The nurse is 15 minutes late, pushing her cart in casually like we haven’t been waiting anxiously to do bloodwork and get the fuck out. I don’t mind needles. I watch. Once I’m done I head to the set of double doors of 4 North. I have to have Bruno buzz the first set unlocked, walk into the vestibule, wait for it to close behind me and have him unlock the second set. I’m going to Critical Care; it’s a huge open space with the Tim Hortons (not the Second Cup that’s closer but yuckier) and giant windows and couches. I bring a book and sit with my coffee as long as possible. I won’t be alone again all day.

I come back up at 07:55 and wait in the hall outside our special EDP kitchen. The gen psych population eats in the lounge or in their rooms. Some of them are aware that we have our own special room but not aware enough to understand why. Sometimes they yell about it. Once, a non-verbal man came in and took the glass base out of our microwave and we had to pull an alarm because our nurse had left briefly. Our nurse this morning is a bitch. I can’t put it any nicer. Her name is Brenda and we got off on the most wrongest foot ever. There’s a general belief that people with eating disorders are sneaky, manipulative liars. I fancy myself a rational adult and choosing to recover in this way was hard enough; it makes no sense to me at all that I’d voluntarily leave my job and move onto this ward just to lie and sneak around and try to lose weight and be symptomatic. She didn’t talk to me or get to know who I am before deciding I was bad. Seeing her walk down the hall, realizing she was our nurse for the 7-3 shift, makes my stomach flip. It causes me more anxiety than the meal itself. I spoke with the ward manager a few weeks ago though, Brenda apologized to me. She was wrong and treating me unfairly, for no reason evident to me. She still makes me anxious though. She’s late but she doesn’t apologize. If we’re late we’re actually punished with having to eat more at snack time. Punishing an unrelated infraction with food - now that’s logical. During Breakfast, we turn a radio on so it’s not silent. Brenda talks though - she’s famous for it. She’ll keep talking even though no one responds. She’ll keep talking even after we’re finished and waiting for her to start check-out. Breakfast is one of the worst meals in the day. In the wise words of Nate, my best friend in this hell-hole, “this meal makes no sense”, and they’ll chastise us saying meals don’t have to ‘make sense’ but having toast, a muffin with cream cheese on it, an apple and a glass of milk is a lot. But wait, cause if you’ve ordered a bran muffin with cream cheese too often (‘too often’ is completely based on the opinion of the power-tripping dietician, Shelley) you might get a bran muffin and…. a piece of plastic-wrapped, room-temperature cheddar cheese. This meal makes NO sense. So you down each piece as quick as possible because, that’s totally normal and not disordered eating, right? Yuck. When we start passing our plates to the person closest to the dish cart Brenda wraps up her latest anecdote, sighs, then turns to her side and asks the nearest one of us how their breakfast was. We have to say something positive - how this helps our recovery, (lying when necessary to come up with an acceptable response) I’m not sure. I say “I liked the muffin.”. Nate raises his eyebrows a tiny bit, tilts his head sharply and says “my omelette was the same temperature as my milk” and I stifle a laugh. He is a barista in the real world and he has a chalkboard-painted travel mug. Every day he writes something on it, every day I look forward to it. Today he’s written “Day 42: one lump, or two? “‘six’” - Shelley”. Last Friday's mug said “Day 39: to have your pancake and eat it too”. 

The day is spent in groups. There’s CBT group, led by a Nurse Practitioner, Simin, who is almost like a psychologist… except not at all. There’s family and relationships groups: open-circle groups led by Stephanie, an actual psychologist who can only speak in that whispery therapeutic tone shrinks develop. These groups drive me insane because it’s completely unstructured and we might spend the hour listening to some rambly, whiney story about someone’s mom. I’m a bitch though. It helps that person to talk, but hearing about five other people’s problems doesn’t benefit me at all. I have a therapist in the real world, I want to exempt myself from these groups. There’s body image, the ONLY group led by the psychiatrist who runs the inpatient program. There’s DBT where we just watch one patient draw a chain of events and we analyze the shit out of it for an hour. There’s ‘take charge’ group led by Jodie, a social worker, where we made resumes…. (most of us are adults with jobs), There’s medical education run by Simin again, the NP, possibly the only valid group although she chooses a topic at random and it’s very basic information, I truly appreciated the group where she explained that ‘gluten-free’ diets are a bullshit trend. There’s a group led by Shelley the dietician where we learn about the food pyramid and how milk is good for you.

Lunch is at noon. 2 starches, 2 protein, 1 vegetable, 1 fat, 1 fruit, 2 dairy. Afterwards we do menu marking. We sit together and circle the meals on wide menu sheets that we’ll have for the next five days. It’s so stressful I know ahead of time to ask for a PRN. I request clonazepam. In my pre-treatment life, I used this med as a sleep aid. Now it doesn’t affect my wakefulness in the slightest. I’m so anxious it barely does anything at all. I struggle immensely writing out my future five days. Trying to do it ‘right’. Trying to pick the ‘right’ things. Trying not to forget any portions. I hand over the sheets of marked menus to Brenda or Shelley and they skim it and accept it or point out flaws. I don’t trust the acceptance anyway, Shelley might make changes later without my consent. Why bother giving us this ‘responsibility’ and ‘control’ and ‘choice’ if you’re going to make changes later without warning and our food comes up with something senseless and surprising that we’re forced to consume anyway? Mixing food & eating with a sense of insecurity and distrust. Excellent. Oh, did I mention that if we’re late to group, chewing gum etc, we might also be punished by having one menu taken away, meaning one of our days meals will be totally redone by whoever is in charge at the time. It’s no wonder that this task and these people are actually giving me bigger trust issues and general anxiety than I probably came in here with. 

We also meet with the psychiatrist, Dr. Proulx, on Mondays. This is the only time we see her besides Body Image group, DBT sometimes, and Feedback (which is Tuesdays, a long table with all staff and all 6 of us) and it is the only time we see anyone on EDP staff one-on-one… and even then, Simin The NP is usually present as well. Throughout my time in program I won’t ever understand the purpose of this ‘one-on-one’ meeting besides to discuss medication. When I was admitted Dr. Proulx questioned the medication I’m on and suggested going off of it and trying something more fitting. I’m on Limotrigine, an anti-convulsant used off-label as a mood stabilizer for bipolar and schizophrenia. She didn’t know me or my history, decided it was the wrong medication, but then didn’t do anything to change it.

At 3pm, the nurses switch shifts. It’s a gamble, there are a few nurses who are true gems and a few who are new and/or unfamiliar with the psych ward. None of the nurses are specialized in eating disorders, they’re just trained nurses who happened to end up on the psych ward and then happened to end up assigned to us. Despite the clear lack of formal training or understanding, some try to psychoanalyze or offer impromptu therapy sessions. On one of my first days, a filipino nurse with broken english came in to ask me how my first shower was. I wanted to tell her it was worse than the public pool showers I remember vaguely from my childhood swimming lessons but I figured she wouldn’t get my dark sense of humour and just nod along knowingly, supportively, ahh yes, I see. But does she see? My bathroom comes equipped with two milk crates stacked sideways forming a sort of shelving unit for us to store tiny hospital towels. I have my razor hidden between a few of them, I just can’t stand having to ask for it every second day and I am not a self-harm risk. None of us are; self-harm = automatic discharge. The bathroom has a stand up shower, no shower curtain, just an open doorway beside a metal shower head protruding from the wall. Our bathroom door has no locks and our room’s door has a towel wrapped around the handles, preventing it from closing fully. My roommate has a huge problem with the lack of security and lack of privacy. She sleeps in a sleeping bag on top of her bed. The filipino nurse asked me if I had any urges and on my first day I was naive enough to not know what the hell she meant, asking nervously knowing my roommate was on her bed behind our divider curtain, certainly hearing this exchange, and the nurse clarified by miming cutting her wrists. Yep, definitely not a mental health professional. At 3pm I’m overjoyed to see our nurse is Barb. Colleen is a close second best-case-scenario, a warm, smiley woman with a kind voice and a motherly demeanour. Barb is funny and also very kind. She holds one of us back at random after dinner to check-in and unlike every other nurses attempts at therapeutic conversations, I do enjoy chatting with Barb. She believes me when I tell her I didn’t mean to cut my meat up into ‘too-small’ pieces, she believes me when I tell her that’s not an ED behaviour I have. She believes me when I say I know what I’m doing here, what I mean to accomplish, what my goal is; I mean to spend my 8 weeks (that’s the max, I had decided right away) eating well-rounded meals and gaining some weight. I know I’m sick, I know I have an eating disorder and I know I’m doing serious damage to myself, she hears me when I say this. She believes me, and more importantly, she respects my decision, when I tell her I’m not looking to work on issues relating to past relationships, family, self. I’ve worked with half a dozen therapists by now, I know that 8 weeks in an artificial environment made up of 90% group therapy sessions is not the place for me to open up about any and all issues, I know it won’t help and could actually hurt. Barb hears me and believes me. I respect her for respecting me and treating me like a rational adult. Dr. Proulx tells me that anorexia is not rational, therefore I am not rational. It’s like she doesn’t think that eating disorders are mental illnesses, and I can be level-headed and rational about any other area of my life. I feel distrust and scrutiny from almost every direction. I’m a perfectionist and feeling like I am failing constantly is extremely distressing. Not feeling approval from those in charge of my care and recovery is really hard for me. 

Dinner with Barb is nice though, and often times meals are ok. The food isn’t all terrible. I did make a dire mistake of selecting a ‘salisbury steak’ not actually knowing what it was but knowing what steak was and knowing I was in The Red Meat Club (low iron) so I didn’t have a lot of choice anyway. Salisbury steak, the hospital kind at least, is something I don’t ever wanna see or smell .. or taste.. again. Imagine how hard it was finding a positive to share with the group after that surprise. I also tried my very first Shawarma here in the EDP kitchen. It was pretty good. We’re a bit lucky because EDP gets extra menu options and they’re good ones like Stir Fry of the Day, different sometimes but good almost always. Barb is nice but she’s just as strict as the rest of the team, things can still go bad real quick - like someone throwing a pudding cup across the table, scattering silverware and cups everywhere. I leave the kitchen when Barb said “ok you all can go except….” and she chooses someone she’s been wanting to chat with, hasn’t seen around much, etc. It’s not me today.

What’s difficult about the routine after dinner is that unless it’s the one day a week where we have our glorified arts and crafts group (therapeutic creative expression?) we have 2+ hours to kill. We have visitors or we hang out or just hide behind our curtains watching Netflix on our laptops. If we have arts and crafts, whichever nurse happens to be on shift that night picks an activity at random, I think they must google it 20 minutes prior, and we’re expected to do the activity as if it’s crucial to our progress and recovery. The only example I can even think of is when Brenda told us to “draw what having a life looks like” and in her better-than-thee way, left it at that. So poetic and profound and intentional. I basically regressed back to my oppositional high school self, took her directions exactly literally and sketched a perfect anatomical fetus in utero. That’s what it looks like when someone “has a life” inside them. Everyone else did what I knew she wanted; smiley faces and playing outside and friends and family and food and stuff. No. I’m an artist. I won’t conform. 

 Since dinner is at 5pm, night snack feels miles away at 8pm and that’s great except then we’ve eaten (sometimes several things) so late before bed it makes relaxing enough to sleep really difficult. I have graduated to a meal plan where even at snacks I have to consume what feels (to my body) like a LOT of food. Because I’m still not gaining weight as fast as they think I should be, I’ve had an Ensure Plus Calories added to my meal plan. I have a Chocolate Ensure Plus Calories with a pack of 4 two-bite brownies. At 8:00pm, after a solid dinner and a solid day of solid meals. I regret immensely choosing this too-chocolatey snack combo. No point wishing it wasn’t so, I sit down with my things. We all scan across the table to see what everyone else has. No one is jealous of me. We came in on our own and are waiting for Barb but she’s actually taking her dinner so Nurse Will comes in. Nurse Will is a hottie, or at least.. the hottie. There aren’t a lot to choose from (although, pro-tip: set your Tinder location settings to as narrow as possible and you’ll pick up a lot of nurses and doctors in here). Nurse Will has helped out with EDP nurses on occasion but never on snack with us. He seems a little uncomfortable, not sure what routine we follow. I open my brownie packet and discover there are 5 and not 4. I panic. I look around wildly trying to catch someone’s attention. Amy sees me first, sigh of relief, Mom might help me. My voice cracks and I tell Will there’s an extra brownie it’s only supposed to be 4. I know this is not an anorexia thing, but I know normal people would be delighted by an extra brownie, but normal people don’t also have to down the 400 calories of chocolate ensure I do. I’m already challenging myself so much and oh jesus god if he makes me eat the 5th one that I was never supposed to have I’ll throw a proper fit. I’ll get myself discharged. But he makes one joke about how ‘oh I guess you have to eat it!” but my look of terror had him quiet down and say it’s all good if they say so? Confirmation from my team that it’s ok if I don’t eat the 5th brownie. We do that too, sometimes someone has an issue and the team weighs in and says well I had that food too so it’s ok for you to, or maybe hmmm that is a lot of rice if you’re not ‘challenging’ this meal. My life was in their hands but they unanimously agreed that 4 is the normal in those bags. Safe. Well, still very full of heavy, rich, chocolatey calories. Camille gives me a shy smile and thumbs up from across the table. I remember the first time she did this to me, my first day here and I was pushed into lunch with 5 people I didn’t know, a room I’d never been in, a sandwich I didn’t like. And I cried. And cried and cried. Quietly as possible, because surely the other 5 people were uncomfortable. But I looked up and Camille was waiting for me to look up, her hand clenched in a thumbs-up of encouragement. I wanted to cry and run away and I was so embarrassed and this stranger was being more kind than she needed to be.

After snack I jump in the shower. As quickly as human possible because as I’ve mentioned, our shower is drafty, the shower head is such a little nub on the wall that you have to press your back flush with the cringey tiles to be under the shower head’s spray zone. I don’t stop thinking about what I’d do if the bathroom door suddenly flew open. After, I dry off using 3 scratchy little hospital towels and walk down the hall to drop em in a laundry bin. I grab new ones cause I need to rebury my razor in them. My MacBook and it’s charger are under my mattress. 

At night I usually hang out with Nate. We might go down so he can smoke and for my last dose of fresh air for the night. Back on the ward, we sit up on the counter outside my room and watch the nightly traffic go by. We read IKEA catalogues, make up backstories for patients. We watch this NBA sized guy pacing slowly, dragging his catatonic feet but managing to have feverish conversations with the people in his head. Otherwise, the hallway traffic tour slows and we have some quiet. We sit in the lounge watching the other nurses all doing checks together and chatting. Eventually Nurse Jillian will firmly encourage us to go to our rooms. It’s probably 1am but I’ll be up at 6:30am and tip toe out of bed to start this all over again. 

Except tomorrow is Tuesday, We’ll have Feedback at a round table with the whole EDP staff, all 6 of us, and go round the table one-by-one one staff delivering the feedback of all to the one patient. Feedback is maybe more stressful than Menu Marking but not usually for me. I go into Feedback having faith that these professionals discussed and shared their thoughts, that I can’t get bad feedback because I’ve done nothing but try to do everything right. Feedback can change everything for some… not for me…..  until the time that it does. 

But that’s another Day in Inpatient Eating Disorders Treatment. A Tuesday

[carrickbender]

The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated..... that being said, my life has taken a few unexpected turns in the last month or so, and it's been kind of crazy... So let me catch you up, if you will allow me to be so self-indulgent: 1. 2 weeks ago, I started a new job with a company called Cosmo specialty fibers. They produce, from wood chips, the pulp that goes into damn near everything which binds stuff like toothpaste, cigarette filters, photographic paper... You name it...together into the form which we know and use. It would never have been my first choice, but when somebody calls you and asks if you're still interested in a position that pays almost double what you were currently making, you jump at the chance. Now mind you, this is not necessarily as physically easy as my previous job, and wearing steel toe boots and walking on a concrete floor is pretty lame. But, the people I work with are great, the benefits are amazing, and it's going to allow me to make the choice in 6 to 8 months of weather I want to stick around for a little while or go on to do my Merchant Mariners coursework. I'd like to mention that my leaving my old job for that major online retailer whose name rhymes with Country Crock has nothing to do with them. Again, I was working with kind, intelligent, thoughtful People Who provided a very nice place to work. But when someone doubles your paycheck, you listen. Which leads me to... 2. I finally did the adult thing and bought a car. You know, I've owned a Volkswagen Bug before but it was a 1973 Super Beetle. And being that I'm 41, and that I've always purchased vehicles with other people( a newer vehicle, that is, when I was with my ex-wife) this was the first time I bought something that I wanted. Kids, Volkswagen are wonderful automobiles. This is my new rock mobile, the one that is going to plop me all over the Northwest this summer and spring watching and playing shows, and generally making a nuisance of myself. 3. Yes, if you notice something in the one picture of me in the hard hat, I had to shave my beard. This is a gray area with the place of my employment, because we are required to keep personal protective equipment on our person at all time. And I'm not just talking about a hard hat, or safety glasses and earplugs, I'm talking about the fact that I had to be fit tested for an SCBA apparatus and am required to keep an evacuation breather on a belt loop at all times. It gives me 20 minutes or so to get the hell out of dodge and not die in the case of a sulfur dioxide leak. So yeah, I'm adjusting to life without a beard. It is a gray area, and as I have to go in and talk to my supervisor tomorrow, I'm going to ask what the deal is about having a beard. Because honestly, I feel naked without it. And that baby face? I don't think so! How am I ever going to get on with the baby face like that? LOL 4. So I went and saw the Reverend Horton Heat the other night with my lead guitar player. The show is intense, the guitar playing was mystical and bombastic, and I didn't realize it was what I needed when I accepted the offer of going up to the show, but I really did need it. I think every now and then we need to get reinspiring influences, like a dose of something that gives us a shot in the arm. And the thing about it is that I've been writing a lot, and working on music whenever my schedule allows. But I'm in a funk writing wise, and I have no feeling like I have so much to say but I don't know where to start. So all of you amazing writers out there, if anybody has a hint... Please, feel free to help loosen up the Log Jam that is my brain right now. 5. Speaking of log jams breaking up, you ever come to a realization where someone is not telling you something but they're doing things out of character and you just know that they're not telling you something big and important? See, I feel like I've been very blessed by the great beyond in that y'all have let me be privy to your lives and to the things that are going on, especially with losing someone. And in that context, I had a cathartic moment in that I finally piece together some pieces of a puzzle that has been 41 years in the making. Let me explain... As many of you know, my Dad and I didn't start to get to know each other until I was 20 years old. In my parents relationship, there was a lot of drama and turmoil, both of them being teenagers, my grandmother threatening to kill my father if he ever tried to play a role in my life... The list honestly goes on. The bottom line is that I didn't get to know my father until I was an adult, and I think that that probably was the best thing ever. So, like so many of you, my father has a terminal disease and other health issues that are life-threatening as well. And over the last year, maybe even two years, for the first time in our relationship my dad has reached out more than ever. He is tried to be a father figure when I needed advice, he has tried to do things for me financially which he never did, and I see him trying to do things in his life that he said that he's going to do and it made me realize that I need to be more attentive and a better son to my father. Now you can say is much as you want to because my mom never had a dime of financial support from my dad, and there is a case that some people in my life have made for just saying no, and shutting him out. I mean, for so many years I was the one who had to make contact always, I'm the one who had to make the phone call on Christmas Eve to my grandparents trying to find out where he was and initiate contact after 20 years, I'm the one who has had to do all of these things within our relationship, and I had my mom's dad who was an amazing father figure... But with all of that being said, I feel like everything that's going on between the two of us has made me realize that all of our times are short, but his time is even shorter. And as part of that catharsis, it's made me realize that I need to recommit to all the relationships in my life and make sure that the people who value the most to me know how much that I love them. Even those who ducked out of their responsibilities for the first 20 years of my life, I don't care. There's a great verse from the U2 song "Sometimes you can't make it on your own", which Bono wrote for his father... "I know that we don't talk I'm sick of it all Can - you - hear - me - when - I - Sing, you're the reason I sing You're the reason why the opera is in me Where are we now? I've got to let you know A house still doesn't make a homea Don't leave me here alone..." I am that child, pleading with him to stay and this stupid thing called mortality as if I was a murderer asking for another day just to see another sunrise, sparing me from the gallows of my memories. Because there will be a day, sooner than I will know, when I can't ask those questions anymore. We all get there, I know. But I get the feeling that he knows it even more so, and it's time to mend all of the fences and say all of the things before he goes silent. 6. Anyhow, enough of my rambling. The bottom line is that I've missed you guys, and I'm sorry that I have been woefully absent. I was even tagged in stuff and in my jackassery, I didn't respond... That is if you missed me, lol. But I also want each and everyone of you to know that I really do feel blessed that you have shared so many things about yourselves with me that help me get perspective on my own proverbial shit. And I want you to know how much I appreciate you all! Much love from the upper left-hand corner of the big rock, and I promise not to be so much of a stranger.