DEAR EDDIE/DEAR FRED

 "There is such a euphoric feeling when you feel in control" Yeah, but you aren't, are you? I had my follow-thru appointment with the dietician at my bariatric clinic last week.  She took my weight...I knew what she was going to say.  "Your weight didn't stablize, you've lost more.  Away with you to an inpatient program!" Well, maybe she didn't say anything like that last part.  But...... Away I go to inpatient.  Appointments have been made for an intake interview and paperwork is filled out and signed.  Damn it. Where is your control now?

  Letting Go I cry.  In the early morning, when no one else is around.  So they don't see me.  I cry.  In the shower, so that it all gets washed down the drain.   Then no one will hear.  I cry.  While alone and staring out a window at the grayness of the world.  It hurts but I do it.  I cry.  In the back places of my soul so that no one knows that I do. Until my chest is too tight to breathe. I cry.   When I finally can't hold it back any longer.  Feeling bad for me?  I do, too. 

 Hey, news sources- Just so you know, the phrase "dying to be thin" is triggering as fuck.   Don't use it. 

 Is there a huge difference between a child (aged 1 to 18) with an ED and an adult (my age) with an ED?  As an adult, I don't have to wait until an adult finally decides to take you to start the process with doctors, therapists,  etc.  A child has to wait for the adult in charge of them to chase down insurance, contact doctors, find therapists that will connect with the child, sometimes all that takes a few tries for each one.  The child still has to try to be patient while literally melting away.  if the adult recognises the importance of the situation and acts asap, so much the better; me, I can just do that right away, at any moment during daytime working hours.  The child has to hope and pray that the adult's insurance will cover it, I already know if mine will.  Do I think I have the better deal?   Nope, it hurts just much and ruins lives just as much for the kiddo as it would for me.  I've gotten my team nearly together, and I'm still shit scared, worried, and on

 So.  My appointment at the clinic went really well, my team is all on board and almost complete; I just have to find a physical therapist to help with the whole "purging thru too much fucking exercise" issue, and I have a number and a referral to start that, plus I plan to check with my regular PT.  They have to be someone that has lots of experience working with this sort of stuff. Very scared and prepared to fail occasionally but determined to keep trying ...and yeah, I'm slightly freaked out by the whole thing.  I can cry now.  I feel so bony and weird and awkward...this must be what it's like being Popeye's girlfriend, Olive Oil.  Starting to look like her, too. I'd rather be Diesel Oil, her brother.  Or both...I rock the androgynous look.

  The Rita Voice Rita is new, all bright and scary.  I'm going to start recovery/refeeding soon.  I'm down to a bad weight due to a recent triggering episode and I'm tired, scared, and getting pushed to my limit.  So, I'm ready.  For the purposes of this blog, this part of my life is named Rita...this will be the 'voice' of my physical ED recovery process.  It starts this Thursday when I tell my team that it's time.  I will be handling this thru outpatient only for right now, I've got to try this way before any other programs as I'm slightly leary of that particular way.  My ED brain is trying to convince me that I won't be treated as an adult in places like that...I'm a bit old for the whole reward/punishment schtick and my life is wayy beyond parent/school/teenaged angst stuff. So....hi, Rita.  It's going to hurt a lot getting to know you, but I'm tough.  I hope.