For 33 hours I stayed in a hospital over the last two days. Thankfully I was not a patient; I was at work and became stuck because of road restrictions. I shared my room with two lovely people from my unit and we made the most of the situation. Part of this was requisitioning an extra bed on the unit before anyone else got to it.
In the process I was at work off duty and I wandered back to the pediatric unit on my floor. I went back to help with the babies; I fed them, held them, gave them contact for a while. When the newborns come to our floor they are frequently needing light therapy for jaundice or need more time to detox. The nurses and techs love them too but there just isn't enough time to give them the individual attention. I have fallen in love with one of the babies and the staff have joked I should take it home with me, including the doctor.
It's interesting because the difference between having a job where overnights are a regularity and not having them at all resulted in long days and sleepless nights. After my scheduled hours I changed into comfortable clothing and tried to do homework and this lasted for an hour before I was falling asleep on my books. That sleepiness has continued into today further indulging on my procrastination of this session. I need to get on track but it isn't going to happen today.
For 33 hours I was game on, in front of people, unable to take the mask off. I realized how much I appreciate having my own place, an area that is safe and mine. For the glorified closet nature of my apartment it still mine only, I can afford to live by myself this way. By 11am my voice had a slight tremor to it when I was checking in with my therapist, who I am unable to see this week because of the storm. She was able to validate my feelings of the heaviness of my situation and she vocalized the difficult nature of what was going on.
Sandy was an unexpected storm that gave me an opportunity to see how much I have grown.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Sunday: Coffee and Light
I'm in the middle of my apartment sitting on my couch. Next to me is my cup of coffee and my brand new lamp that is supposed to help give me 'energy'. If you were just to hone in on me on this Sunday before the storm you might think everything is calm.
If the rest of my apartment came into view the reality of the hurricane having hit my apartment already is very apparent. My kitchen counter is stacked, there are piles of 'stuff' everywhere, and my bathroom needs to be cleaned.
The saying about knowing how a person is really doing by looking at their personal space is true. I've lacked energy, motivation, and self-care. Hopefully the light helps with some of this and I am able to get back on schedule.
If the rest of my apartment came into view the reality of the hurricane having hit my apartment already is very apparent. My kitchen counter is stacked, there are piles of 'stuff' everywhere, and my bathroom needs to be cleaned.
The saying about knowing how a person is really doing by looking at their personal space is true. I've lacked energy, motivation, and self-care. Hopefully the light helps with some of this and I am able to get back on schedule.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
A year of ambivalence
I am sitting here thinking about the posts I wrote a year ago, when I was actively trying to grasp health instead of culture’s standard of what is pretty, when I was comprehending what it meant to appreciate my body at 144 pounds; A time when I was cognizant of this life being my own and no one else’s.
At this point, one year later, I am pondering how I have moved closer to my ambitions of last October and how I have moved—just a little—further away.
I have learned a long time ago to appreciate each circumstance, each hurt, because none of it is useless. Of course, I begrudge the process of working through these times, but I have always walked out of them a little wiser and a little stronger. These are some of the things I have learned in the last year:
Nothing is black and white. For a long time I told everyone everything was fine and I told it so often I, almost, started believing it myself. When group therapies were brought up I always used work as an excuse to not participate in them; In reality I was denying myself help and, until, I broke down completely I didn’t think I deserved it. There was a lot of fear in a higher level of care because I always thought it would jeopardize my job. In the midst of going on reduced hours and leaving work through a four month period I was also named one of three employees of the year and given a role model evaluation. I cringed when I had to call my supervisor and tell her I was returning to work because I didn’t know what my reception would be; It was quite warm because people had missed me. I did not lose my job because I asked for help and I realized it’s a strength leaning on others. I asked for, and removed myself, for help and I kept my job; life isn’t either or.
I have grown closer to my sister. Before I was hospitalized there was no communication between us. Our relationship was based on visits every few weeks and a phone call with little substance, she didn't even know where I lived. Through the process of mandatory therapy we explored some of what caused these blocks. I see her far more frequently than I ever have and we are building our relationship. She's also someone I cannot fool when I am in my eating disorder. Sometimes I (my eating disorder) want to strangle her because she makes me eat.
I am letting go of blame and fault that is not meant to go on my shoulders. It's easier to hold all of the blame to yourself; when the blame is held close the ability to be around the one at fault remains possible and there's a sense of control. But not reconciling the fault with the 'offender' keeps the pain real and fresh. I am closer to letting go of my father by working through this process. My dad committed suicide when I was a child. I couldn't take in the fact my dad would leave me so it had to be my fault he left. Everytime something happened that my dad could not protect me from became my fault. This though pattern became so ingrained I have yet to completely shed it's weight.
I am surrounded by people that support me, that understand my struggle, and are walking beside me as I heal. Sometimes in your lowest times you meet the people that come to be closest to your heart. The hospital stay gave to me dear friends, a treatment team of excellent, caring, individuals, and a foothold back into life.
Today, at this moment, I am thinking of the ways my eating disorder can help accomplish all I want to do. And I am able to actually stop and realize the eating disorder thought process because, in the long run, the eating disorder will only take what I want away from me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)