Looking Back, Moving Forward

Stepping down. 
Those 2 words? The words I have been waiting for seven months to hear. 
Stepping down- as in stepping down from my current eating disorder program, and stepping back into my life- though it will be as a better, stronger, and happier me. 

The last several months of my life have been crazy. To recap, in mid-July, I entered an Intensive OutPatient (IOP) for an eating disorder. I've had an eating disorder for 12 years, sought treatment, made a bit of headway, and slipped back into the slippery slope of the disorder again and again. 

In May 2010, my current therapist suggested that there was little else she could do for me in the setting we were in, and that I would benefit from another program. She sent me to the Emily Program. 
(Won't lie, I was not upset about not seeing her again.)
It took me until August to make an appointment (you know, maybe my ED would cure itself before I had to go elsewhere, right? I thought I would give it a try), and until early October to see a new therapist. After my first meeting with him I felt the most hope I had in years that I could actually beat this thing.
However, even meeting once a week, he was unable to push me far enough ahead. I simply did not do my menu plan, didn't track (write down the foods I ate), and follow his assignments. (say it. I know. I am a teacher and I never do his assignments. I like to think it allows me a little control. He just jots down little notes, which I imagine say things such as, "Sara continues to show rebellious behaviors, control tendencies, and has very cute boots on today.")

(p.s. on that...Can I note that I hate it when therapists make those little notes on their files? I can't stop wondering what he is writing. Did he note that I mentioned that the picture on his wall was just a touch crooked? I mean, who is he to say anything about OCD tendencies? I have never, ever  seen that man with even a slight wrinkle in his clothes. He looks like he stepped out of an dry cleaners every time I see him.)
p.p.s. I do ask him what he writes down sometimes. I never get a straight answer out of him. Actually, he never answers anything, just asks me questions back or shrugs his shoulders and waits for me to "figure it out myself." Fine. I just sort of think for what I am paying him, he could just tell me what to do sometimes instead of all this self acualization stuff.

Back on subject here. (Confession: I still have the tendency to get off topic once in a while.) 

I went through the shame and embarrassment of telling my friends and family I needed IOP to recover. I had to face my principal at work and tell her I needed to take a medical leave to do treatment. Had to face the questions, the comments on how I "don't look like I have an eating disorder" and "I've seen anorexic people, and you don't look like that." I had rude comments said to/about me, ignorance showed by others. 

It was scary. Sitting in the room the first day, I was so angry and upset. I looked at all these other people around me and thought, "I am not one of these people. They are all worse than me. There has been a mistake, I do not belong here." I thought for sure I would be sent on my way once they got to know me.  (Or possibly stay for SEVEN MONTHS)

I had to sit in a room day after day, week after week, with strangers- some of whom became dear friends of mine, so of whom I will never wish to see again- and spill my feelings, my urges, my food journals, everything. 
I ate foods I've never tried before. (Enchiladas, quiche, carrot cake, coconut pancakes, banana bars {eewwww}, blueberries, madarin oranges, to name a few) 

I cried, broke down, fell backwards, cussed. 

I watched others come and go- some back to even more intensive programs, and some who were healthy enough to move on- while I stayed. 

I joked nearly everyday how I wanted to be done. I had all the recreational therapy I could ever need or want thankyouverymuch. They laughed back and told me to sit down. 

I got my life back. Slowly, over the months, I emerged from the eating disorder and began to seperate Sara from the eating disorder. I found new interests, abilities, hobbies, friendships, laughter. I felt better, with more energy, rested, better able to focus (fine, for me that is relative), and happier. 

I do still struggle. I do still hate my body and fight against it. However, instead of the eating disorder winning every time, I now win some of these arguments. I don't obsess over food, restrict, and cause harm to myself as much. I am headed down the road to recovery slowly but surely. 

In two weeks? At almost exactly my 7 month start date? I will exit out of the program and move forward. 
I'm ready. 
I'm nervous
excited
scared
optimistic

and glad. So very glad I went through it all, took the chances- took a year off from my job, worried about health insurance, money, appointments, driving, what I was doing to my family, all the details that go along with something of this nature- and did it. 


Because? Having my friends and loved ones tell me how much they love the changes I've made, how much healthier I am, and feeling so much better about myself is a gift I should have never denied myself so long. 


Thank you to all who walked on this journey with me, from the beginning, and continue to do so as I move to the next leg of my journey. 

p.s. My friend Jess from the program also has a blog. Hers is way more real than mine- she even uses grown up words. I love her raw honesty and drive. But- I do not and will never miss doing rec therapy with her.