"Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail" - Ralph Waldo Emerson
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| This was a hill I found in Denver that I would look up at a lot and then found the above quote and kept it on my journal cover to remind myself I am creating a new path. |
Heart pounding. Shaky legs. Tapping foot. Knot in my stomach. Deep breathing. What am I about to go through? My life is now in Denver, Colorado, not knowing a soul that I am about to get REAL with, real fast. I slowly open the doors (it's kind of like in the movies where the actor opens the door and it's like this blinding white light into heaven or the future or a fantasy land or... um, know what I mean? oh boy, okay anyways) to report for duty at ERC (Eating Recovery Center) and face this inner demon head on and hopefully knock it out of my system for good. I check in and the first thing the receptionist said as she looked over my papers is, well look at that, Happy Birthday! As I gave a little chuckle, HA yea...HAPPY birthday to me. She looked at me as if she was looking into a lost child's eyes, which I was, could tell I was scared out of my mind and said "this is the best gift you will ever give yourself", I nodded as if I believed her when I was trying to believe it when I was telling myself that. I sat in the lobby to wait my turn to go through all the fun paperwork and can honestly say, I cannot remember a thing that was going through my head. I just couldn't believe I was there. I wasn't somewhere that I could just hop in my car and drive home if I didn't like it. I was half way across the country about to expose a secret that only I knew about, that I was about to go through so much therapy and work on my inner self, digging so deep to feelings that I haven't even touched, to learn how it is to be vulnerable and authentic. Will people like me here? Do I need to keep up this persona, this mask, that everything is really fine with me, that I just need "a LITTLE" help with a few things here and there. Will I ever know what it truly feels like to be ME in a friendship, a relationship, to someone who is going through something EXACTLY like me?
The facility was super nice and could see why it was so highly rated throughout the country. I was trying not to think of it as a treatment center, or rehab, but a place who accepts all, judgement free zone, a place where you can literally hit pause on life and stop all the chaos going on around you and to learn how to live a life full of health and happiness, because we only got one shot at this right? So it was time to get this show started, they took my bags upstairs to my room and I was sent into the cafe for lunch. Really? The first stop is putting me in a room full of patients who all know each other already, AND food?! You know the very first day of school and your scared shitless (what do you mean that is not a word, Mr. Spell Check man?!) about walking into a classroom not knowing who is in your class, where you are going to sit, who will you have to talk to? Yea, that awesome feeling x 100 is about what I was feeling as I walked down the hall to see everyone who I will be sharing this journey with for the first time. As I was walking down the hall, I was looking all around me to see what it was like. It was your basic hall way with doors that led to offices or group rooms, there was a larger room where you spent down time, bathrooms, it really did remind me of an admissions building on a college campus type feel. I get to the cafe and had to take my jacket off because you were not allowed to wear anything with pockets or hoods while eating. I slowly walked in and there was chatter everywhere, tables filled with 6 or so girls at each, and then there was me. I felt like the record scratched and all heads turned to this girl with fear in her eyes, white Nike crew socks and tennis shoes on, and gym clothes, looking around for my name tag. I tried keeping on a brave face but there was no hiding how nervous I was. I did make eye contact with a lot of the girls just for obvious reasons and wondering who the "newbie" was and just wanted to find my seat as quickly as I could. Once I did, I opened my plate topper to a PB&J sandwich with carrot sticks. At this point, the knot in my stomach had completely filled my entire body and the last thing on my mind was eating. Each table has a staff member sitting with them to monitor the meal because you were expected to complete 100% of all meals. The staff member was super welcoming and introduced me to the rest of the girls at the table. They were very welcoming and asked where I was from etc, but as soon as I opened my mouth to talk like I was straight out of a country western movie, they knew I was definitely from the South. :) For the first time in my life, I didn't know how to carry on a conversation, I couldn't think of any open ended questions to ask, I just couldn't THINK about anything other than how the hell am I supposed to eat this sandwich. We had 30 minutes to eat and when time was up, I had only got 1/2 the sandwich down and a few carrot sticks. Luckily, you get a "free pass" for your first meal to not have to drink Boost in the form of how ever many calories you left on your plate. After sitting through the longest thirty minutes of my life, we got a quick break to go outside and OMG, fresh air could not have come at a better time, not only does Denver have 0% humidity, I just needed some reassurance I wasn't just stuck in a bad dream, that this place is real and I am breathing.
So, what was going through my head at this point now that I got through my first meal? A big olllll, WTF am I doing here?! Everyone was paired up sharing stories, having small talk, and I was the new girl, not knowing what to say, how to say it, what can and cannot I talk about here? Sadly, I was already comparing myself to others, judging their bodies, wishing mine looked like theirs, wondering what their story was, how long had they been here, will I get to the point of feeling comfortable here like they seem to be? But, one of the questions and self judgments I had that thankfully later learned almost everyone had when they first arrived was, am I even sick enough to be here? I don't reallllly have an eating disorder. Do I really have an eating disorder? Am I skinny enough to be here? Everyone else is skinnier than me, was I doing my ED wrong? My competitive side got jealous that my sick mind was thinking other girls were better at their ED than me, they did get skinny and I didn't, why do I fail at everything? It must be nice to be that skinny, to be able to feel comfortable in jeans, because everyone's preconceived notion on eating disorders is that you have to be rail thin, see every bone in your body, news flash, YOU DON'T. People with ED's come in all different forms, shapes, and sizes and that is what I wish people would understand. I hate when I hear people say in a sarcastic tone "ha, obviously I don't have an eating disorder" if they think they are "too big". I just want to respond, well, I don't know? Do you? Even if someone is really skinny, you don't know their story, what they face on a daily basis, what their inner demon may be.
Okay, sorry, little tangent there, back on track now after my vent moment.... Well, now that I know and believe what I just preached about, at THAT time, I didn't because how low my self-confidence was and how deep I was in my E.D, I DID think I was "too fat" to be there, maybe people are looking at me wondering why I was there? I look fine, not that skinny, is she faking it? Does she deserve to be here? HA, if I only knew what I was about to go through. It's just like me being at home in CLT, just automatically implanting all of these made up stories in peoples minds when they look at me or talk to me, analyzing every inch of skin on my body, what I was doing in life, and that everything was automatically negative. I just overwhelmed my own mind with negative self talk and just wanted to runaway. We were still being monitored as we "mindfully walked" outside (you had to keep a slow and steady pace), keeping close corners, but I looked up at the sky and just asked myself why???? Why did I tell my secret that landed me here, I could've done this on my own but I had to open my big, fat mouth and deal with this completely nauseous, uncomfortable feeling and there was no turning back.
When I snapped back to reality, it was time to go back inside to start groups. The first was thankfully in small groups that we were assigned to every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday called Process Group. This is a time after lunch where we can reflect on how the day is going, how we are feeling, if we have any specific topics that we want to talk about in more of an intimate setting rather than infront of everyone that was there. So I was paired with four other girls and we would meet with our primary therapist we were assigned to. I quickly grew to like these groups because you could really talk about ANNNNYTHING you could imagine, whether it be eating disorder related or not, it was OUR time. Well, since this was my first one, I didn't even know how to say how I felt because I haven't allowed myself to FEEL anything in about 8 years because I would use my behaviors to erase anything I was feeling (good or bad) because I didn't deserve to have feelings, I was just space in this world. (hm, how many times can I use "feel" in a sentence) When it got to my turn, I tried so hard keeping it together, but I just started to cry, I was just so confused, overwhelmed, scared, nervous, alone. Everyone was super supportive and just kept saying, we know exactly how you feel, everyone has their "first day" and it is scary as hell, BUT, it will get better, remember why you are here and how awful your life was getting before you reached this point, TRUST THE PROCESS. It was very comforting to hear that from the other girls and as they started to explain their stories, their authentic feelings in the moment, what they wanted to talk about, I was like WOW, maybe I am not alone?! They feel like that too??? I'm not the only one who shames the person they are and hates their reflection and hates their body and just, AHHHHHH, wants to scream out of frustration not knowing who they are! It made me really start to think of the reasons why I chose to enter this treatment and knew God had a better plan for me here than torturing myself every day back home. After that group was over we would have snack. Wait, again? I am eating again? I had to let 1/2 a sandwich actually digest so not only having that anxiety of calories that are now IN my body, I have to eat again and let THAT digest too? Dear. Lord. See, this is how my mind would process eating food on a daily basis. Say I would eat a PB&J. My mind would break down every ingredient in the food, okay so I have bread (which is carbs that could slowly turn into fat if I have too much, PB (fat), Jelly (sugar), so I am eating fat and sugar, awesome. With everyyyyy mealllll, break down the ingredients and automatically categorize them into "bad" food groups, even got to the point where I was eating TONS of vegetables, I thought I was eating too much that was making me fat.
Yea, I know what you're thinking, I'm crazy. BUT, good news, luckily my snack was a bowl of fruit which put my mind at ease because in my mind, fruit doesn't really digest to anything but if I were to eat crackers or a cookie, that would digest strictly to fat, so I was good, give me fruit allllll day. I was quickly realizing how much I was about to have to eat (6 meals a day), and by have to eat, I mean HAVE to eat infront of staff members while the bathrooms remained locked until certain times in the day (unless you were in a more advanced level of care, I'll explain later).
Next up, I got upstairs for the first time where my bedroom would be but also the art room and community room for 24 hour care patients. I sat down beside a girl who on her second day as we waited for Art Therapy to start. We quickly had a lot in common with uncomfortable feelings and being in treatment for the first time. She asked what I did for a living and told her I was a fitness coach and she said I probably should find another name for that because if others start asking, some may get extremely triggered because their relationship with exercise and the fact we are not allowed to even talk about food or exercise with others, especially during meals would also be another good idea. OH GOODIE! Now I am going to be judged even more, because obviously in my mind that is what everyone has been doing all day to me, by what I do for a living. Now they are going to be judging my body and maybe now realize why I am here because I'm not skinny enough for my profession. First I thought I wasn't skinny enough to be there, but now maybe the reason I was there is to learn how to lose weight through healthy eating to be a trainer. That's what I will learn here too, right? A proper meal plan will I'm sure help me lose weight instead of stuffing my face just to get rid of it. Then, my mind went to, okay, so this is why I am here, to learn how to eat and lose weight. YES! I won't be swollen anymore from purging and allowing my body to absorb the nutrients it needs, orrrr something like that.
I know, I know, my mind was "out of its mind". So, moving on, went to Art Therapy for the first time ever. I've alwaysssss been a one for doodling, yea my high school agendas and notebooks were pretty on fleek (yes I did), so I was pretty interested in this. I never really thought about expressing how I felt through drawing or coloring or just doodling until that very moment when I really got into the exercise. I have kept all of my drawings/representations as well as pottery art which was a really cool outing we had. Here's a fewwwww: (I'm no Picasso.)
More time had past and it was time for dinner, again, "first day of school walk in to the cafeteria hunting for your name tag" and then thirty minutes went by. I was SOOOO ready to just be done for the day and get to my room so I can just CHILLAXXX after one hell of a day. So dinner, ohhhh lookie there, more food, more dissecting of every single ingredient that was going in to my body. I was so freakin' beyond full at this point but nope, had to sit with it, and with the awkward silence moments at the table. Afterwards, I was able to get outside for the last day that day before heading upstairs with the other girls that were staying under monitored care. When I finally got a chance to go to my room for the first time, I opened the door and almost wanted to drop to my knees. With the dorm like hallways, it was most definitely a dorm like room with very little space. I had a twin size bed, a small night stand with a lamp, a few drawers and hanging space for clothes, a window, and a place to hang cards. It was small but honestly, I wanted small. I needed a small space where I felt like I could just hide out for the night and pretend no one knew I was there. We finally got to get electronics after dinner so I immediately checked out my phone and went back in my room to call my mom. By this point I had completely forgot it was my birthday so when I turned on my phone, I was SO overwhelmed by all the texts, voicemails, fbook messages/posts I had received but also, you guest it, brought me to the most tears I had cried that day. It just all hit me, it was my birthday, I am sitting on the floor of my new, small room, not having any friends 'yet', and scared out of my mind. I called my mom and dad and just begged them to keep reminding why I was there, why I needed this, why I deserve this because I could've packed up and left then and there. The nurse from earlier peaked her head in to check on me (well, I'm sure she could hear my sniffles) and just reiterated everyone has their "first day", that I was here for a reason, TRUST THE PROCESS, you're strong and brave enough to come here which was the hardest part. While I could hear my parents agreeing with everything she was saying in the background, I still just couldn't swallow that THIS was the present moment and not some bad dream.
I got off the phone because my mom, being the motivator she is, said now get out there and go sing some karaoke! The Tracey I know would've been the first one to grab the mic and start singing Britney Spears, remember, "you've got this!" I wiped my tears, put on a brave face, and walked into the community room where the girls were and sat down to listen to them sing. So, it did allow me to crack a smile, finally, and I am glad I went, but I still just wanted to be in my room, alone, and take a chill pill. Little did I know, my eating for the day wasn't done yet, we STILL had a snack to eat before lights out. Sooooo that little chill pill had to wait. This actually turned in to my favorite part of the meal plan because we were allowed to get hot tea and boyyyyyyy did that hit the spot in helping me calm down. After snack we had to check our vitals every night, turn in our electronics, and then the bathrooms were unlocked to get ready for bed. I was trying not to look at myself in the mirror while I was brushing my teeth because it just became a habit with bad body image, but I actually did because it was nice to see a familiar face. I looked at myself in the eyes for the first time in a very long time and told myself in my head, "I've got this." I'll never forget that moment.
As I got back to my room, I heard a knock on my cracked door and in popped one of the girls I had briefly met earlier. She handed me a card and again, reiterated that I am not alone here, everyone is family, it's going to be okay, here is a little something for you. I opened up the card and my jaw dropped. All of the girls on my floor had signed a birthday card for me. When I thought the waterworks were done for the day, man, that was one of the most touching moments I think I can remember in a very long time. So if ya'll are reading this, THANK YOU!!! I still look at that card from time to time. I placed it on my night stand and stared at it with a smirk. I was looking around the room again pinching myself to make sure this was real life then glanced over at the journal they provided us at check in. Journaling was something I never had the patience for and never really knew "how to do it," but I opened it up to the first blank page and started writing.... and folks, I haven't stopped (as well as considering this blog a journal for me as well :) ). This is only the second time I have looked back at my very first entry on May 7th. Some of the things I wrote were, "What am I doing here? I made the biggest mistake of my life! All of this just for acceptance? This is the worst birthday ever. I feel like no one wants me around. I am alone. I just pray tomorrow is better." Even though I just had such a heart-warming moment with my birthday card.
I closed my journal, turned off my lamp, and finally after the biggest day of my life, closed my eyes to the sweet sounds of a better tomorrow...
Thinking of how to talk about my time in treatment was hard. How can I even begin to explain what it was like? It was 2 1/2 months of hell on earth....but by day 68 and me walking out of those doors for the last time, I felt like I was heaven on earth. Since my first day was so emotionally draining, it was important to get somewhat of a gist of how days were structured to set up for the next post. NOOO NO, I am not going through each individual day, but rather a summary of ALL things learned while I was out there. That's the good stuff. Even though this post doesn't really do my first day justice, I hope you could somewhat paint a picture with me at ERC as we continue our time at treatment, together. Now get some rest, wake up call comes early and remember....trust the process.
TLC
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| What my E.D. mind would think when I eat. |
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| What I want my mind to think about when I eat. |
Yea, I know what you're thinking, I'm crazy. BUT, good news, luckily my snack was a bowl of fruit which put my mind at ease because in my mind, fruit doesn't really digest to anything but if I were to eat crackers or a cookie, that would digest strictly to fat, so I was good, give me fruit allllll day. I was quickly realizing how much I was about to have to eat (6 meals a day), and by have to eat, I mean HAVE to eat infront of staff members while the bathrooms remained locked until certain times in the day (unless you were in a more advanced level of care, I'll explain later).
Next up, I got upstairs for the first time where my bedroom would be but also the art room and community room for 24 hour care patients. I sat down beside a girl who on her second day as we waited for Art Therapy to start. We quickly had a lot in common with uncomfortable feelings and being in treatment for the first time. She asked what I did for a living and told her I was a fitness coach and she said I probably should find another name for that because if others start asking, some may get extremely triggered because their relationship with exercise and the fact we are not allowed to even talk about food or exercise with others, especially during meals would also be another good idea. OH GOODIE! Now I am going to be judged even more, because obviously in my mind that is what everyone has been doing all day to me, by what I do for a living. Now they are going to be judging my body and maybe now realize why I am here because I'm not skinny enough for my profession. First I thought I wasn't skinny enough to be there, but now maybe the reason I was there is to learn how to lose weight through healthy eating to be a trainer. That's what I will learn here too, right? A proper meal plan will I'm sure help me lose weight instead of stuffing my face just to get rid of it. Then, my mind went to, okay, so this is why I am here, to learn how to eat and lose weight. YES! I won't be swollen anymore from purging and allowing my body to absorb the nutrients it needs, orrrr something like that.
I know, I know, my mind was "out of its mind". So, moving on, went to Art Therapy for the first time ever. I've alwaysssss been a one for doodling, yea my high school agendas and notebooks were pretty on fleek (yes I did), so I was pretty interested in this. I never really thought about expressing how I felt through drawing or coloring or just doodling until that very moment when I really got into the exercise. I have kept all of my drawings/representations as well as pottery art which was a really cool outing we had. Here's a fewwwww: (I'm no Picasso.)
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| My pottery plate I made with a saying my mom would and will continue to always tell me. |
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| Isn't he a little hottie. |
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| Just some doodlin' |
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| One of the girls drew this for me, of me. :) (Thanks, KimmiCakes) |
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| Friendship bracelets became a HUGE part of art therapy and a time passer activity. Thanks to my girl, Lexi, for teaching me. xoxo |
After that group was finished, we had some down time which, I didn't really know what that was because I always had to be, GO GO GO. We sat around the community room and either read, write in your journal they give you, or anything to past time. Still having my first day jitters, I didn't know "what to do with my hands" but saved by the bell/needle, I was called in to get some blood-work done. Here is where tears would come again, and not from drawing blood! I was so emotional that even the nurse asking how my first day was going, I just started balling. The head doctor of the center was in there as well to just ask some questions and it was so hard for me to get out a word because it was the first time I felt like I COULD show emotion and it not be in front of the girls. Why not in front of the girls? I wanted to act like I was strong enough to handle this. That I knew exactly what I was doing. (hint again: mask what I was really feeling) The nurse was sooooo unbelievably nice and funny and she said she knew it was my birthday and "personally invited me" to karaoke in the community room that happened every Thursday night. I shrugged my shoulders and said maybe and went on with the day...that did make me feel really good though.
More time had past and it was time for dinner, again, "first day of school walk in to the cafeteria hunting for your name tag" and then thirty minutes went by. I was SOOOO ready to just be done for the day and get to my room so I can just CHILLAXXX after one hell of a day. So dinner, ohhhh lookie there, more food, more dissecting of every single ingredient that was going in to my body. I was so freakin' beyond full at this point but nope, had to sit with it, and with the awkward silence moments at the table. Afterwards, I was able to get outside for the last day that day before heading upstairs with the other girls that were staying under monitored care. When I finally got a chance to go to my room for the first time, I opened the door and almost wanted to drop to my knees. With the dorm like hallways, it was most definitely a dorm like room with very little space. I had a twin size bed, a small night stand with a lamp, a few drawers and hanging space for clothes, a window, and a place to hang cards. It was small but honestly, I wanted small. I needed a small space where I felt like I could just hide out for the night and pretend no one knew I was there. We finally got to get electronics after dinner so I immediately checked out my phone and went back in my room to call my mom. By this point I had completely forgot it was my birthday so when I turned on my phone, I was SO overwhelmed by all the texts, voicemails, fbook messages/posts I had received but also, you guest it, brought me to the most tears I had cried that day. It just all hit me, it was my birthday, I am sitting on the floor of my new, small room, not having any friends 'yet', and scared out of my mind. I called my mom and dad and just begged them to keep reminding why I was there, why I needed this, why I deserve this because I could've packed up and left then and there. The nurse from earlier peaked her head in to check on me (well, I'm sure she could hear my sniffles) and just reiterated everyone has their "first day", that I was here for a reason, TRUST THE PROCESS, you're strong and brave enough to come here which was the hardest part. While I could hear my parents agreeing with everything she was saying in the background, I still just couldn't swallow that THIS was the present moment and not some bad dream.
I got off the phone because my mom, being the motivator she is, said now get out there and go sing some karaoke! The Tracey I know would've been the first one to grab the mic and start singing Britney Spears, remember, "you've got this!" I wiped my tears, put on a brave face, and walked into the community room where the girls were and sat down to listen to them sing. So, it did allow me to crack a smile, finally, and I am glad I went, but I still just wanted to be in my room, alone, and take a chill pill. Little did I know, my eating for the day wasn't done yet, we STILL had a snack to eat before lights out. Sooooo that little chill pill had to wait. This actually turned in to my favorite part of the meal plan because we were allowed to get hot tea and boyyyyyyy did that hit the spot in helping me calm down. After snack we had to check our vitals every night, turn in our electronics, and then the bathrooms were unlocked to get ready for bed. I was trying not to look at myself in the mirror while I was brushing my teeth because it just became a habit with bad body image, but I actually did because it was nice to see a familiar face. I looked at myself in the eyes for the first time in a very long time and told myself in my head, "I've got this." I'll never forget that moment.
As I got back to my room, I heard a knock on my cracked door and in popped one of the girls I had briefly met earlier. She handed me a card and again, reiterated that I am not alone here, everyone is family, it's going to be okay, here is a little something for you. I opened up the card and my jaw dropped. All of the girls on my floor had signed a birthday card for me. When I thought the waterworks were done for the day, man, that was one of the most touching moments I think I can remember in a very long time. So if ya'll are reading this, THANK YOU!!! I still look at that card from time to time. I placed it on my night stand and stared at it with a smirk. I was looking around the room again pinching myself to make sure this was real life then glanced over at the journal they provided us at check in. Journaling was something I never had the patience for and never really knew "how to do it," but I opened it up to the first blank page and started writing.... and folks, I haven't stopped (as well as considering this blog a journal for me as well :) ). This is only the second time I have looked back at my very first entry on May 7th. Some of the things I wrote were, "What am I doing here? I made the biggest mistake of my life! All of this just for acceptance? This is the worst birthday ever. I feel like no one wants me around. I am alone. I just pray tomorrow is better." Even though I just had such a heart-warming moment with my birthday card.
I closed my journal, turned off my lamp, and finally after the biggest day of my life, closed my eyes to the sweet sounds of a better tomorrow...
Thinking of how to talk about my time in treatment was hard. How can I even begin to explain what it was like? It was 2 1/2 months of hell on earth....but by day 68 and me walking out of those doors for the last time, I felt like I was heaven on earth. Since my first day was so emotionally draining, it was important to get somewhat of a gist of how days were structured to set up for the next post. NOOO NO, I am not going through each individual day, but rather a summary of ALL things learned while I was out there. That's the good stuff. Even though this post doesn't really do my first day justice, I hope you could somewhat paint a picture with me at ERC as we continue our time at treatment, together. Now get some rest, wake up call comes early and remember....trust the process.
TLC
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