Round...(too many to count?)
Fuck. Sorry to make this confusing, but the following post was written on August 29, 2019, NOT the date I uploaded it. I never really finished it, but I'm getting around to concluding and following this ASAP! Stay tuned!
Writing these posts can be overwhelming. Especially when so much has happened and I'm in a totally different place than in the previous post. There's also the shame barrier when there is the potential perception that I have moved backwards or haven't made any progress. Today, however, I'm starting a new transition where I have more time on my hands (take a guess, if you must), so I am trying to begin managing my time a bit better and work on sticking to a schedule. Currently, I am signing myself up for a good deal of personal reflection with this, that I don't now if I am really prepared for, but I think it is in order after apathy being the frontrunner for far too long.
In mid-June I started back in PHP. Jesus Christ, I fucking hate writing that. This shit feels like it's never ending. Sorry if that is disappointing to read. I didn't really tell many people about this return to treatment other than my parents and one friend, even if this meant I had to lie. I had been out for just three months and proven myself incompetent at recovering. That's what it felt like, at least. There were so many different feelings I had surrounding returning to treatment at CFD. I was proud that I was able to ask for more help even though it felt really awful. I was ashamed to go back and see people who were there for my goodbye group and my journey thus far. Especially because upon my departure, I did all I could to present as the perfect recovery success story and minimized my own fears and struggles that I was having in those same times. I also was angry and scared of going back to a place that felt really safe and having to go through all the transitions that come with starting in PHP all over again. I felt that I had been able to move on from the loss of that support and familiarity I had there and having to do it all over again because of my own doing (or lack there of, depending on how you look at it) pissed me off and scared me, too. I can't deny that I was still excited to have these things in my life again despite feeling ashamed of needing them. So, that's a sense of how I was feeling about it. My eating disorder had a few contributions, too, that can't be forgotten. Of course it was feeling all the things you would expect upon the return to a higher LOC: fear, anger, anxiety, etc. This mostly revolved around weight gain and eating significantly more than I had been. It also praised me and expressed it's gratitude for being "sick enough" to have to return to treatment. It felt validated, and therefore, so did I.
Fast forward to six and a half weeks later: today. Yes, you heard that right, I got six full weeks of PHP approved by my insurance without the need for even an appeal! I was shocked when I kept getting approved, and I'm sure it was a result of having to switch over to my mom's insurance provider instead of my dad's. This turned out to be the biggest blessing for me as they were reportedly much kinder than the previous people that my team had to work with. It was really humbling to have to see many of my peers deal with bad insurance calls and situations because I have been in their shoes over and over again ad I know how horrible it can be. To not be that person for once (or I guess twice if you count residential) was honestly weird. But it took a huge weight off my shoulders and really allowed me to focus on recovery knowing that my insurance company seemed to actually be on my side. I wish the same could be said for everyone who is trying to receive the care they need to recover. That being said, today is my first day of IOP and I've been really dreading this change all weekend. Because of the past struggles I have in IOP, my brain seems to associate it with not-so-good feelings. It gives me more time to myself and two more "feedings" to be responsible for on my own. I'm trying to talk myself down from these associations by highlighting the differences between this time and all the previous times. I start school in three weeks. I may feel like I have too much time on my hands now, but I am assuming give it 30 days and I will be killing for this time. I think now I have a different take on it because in the past, school and other things that I was working towards were more hypothetical. Now, I have my schedule and pretty much everything is set up to start pursing a whole new career than what I was doing at UT and I am really excited for it.
Which brings me to other aspects of school that I have to prepare for and expect. I am elated to return to my occupation of "student" and get out of this season of my life doing nothing but treatment (and occasional babysitting). As nice as it can be, it eventually got old, and, as crazy as it is, I actually miss school and learning. For a while I thought I would be living on my own near campus, but because of mostly financial reasons, I decided to live at home and commute to UH. Initially, I was really disappointed about this, but the closer that school gets, the more I realize that this was definitely the smarter decisions for a number of reasons, especially protecting my recovery (and ability to stay in school).The ED voice has been relentless in trying to use school to it's advantage, wanting me to seize every opportunity to please it when I am in the new environment on my own. Granted I will only have to go to campus three days a week and will be able to be home for most meals, there is the saying that goes: "give your ED an inch and it will take a mile". It's not wrong.
Glo
Writing these posts can be overwhelming. Especially when so much has happened and I'm in a totally different place than in the previous post. There's also the shame barrier when there is the potential perception that I have moved backwards or haven't made any progress. Today, however, I'm starting a new transition where I have more time on my hands (take a guess, if you must), so I am trying to begin managing my time a bit better and work on sticking to a schedule. Currently, I am signing myself up for a good deal of personal reflection with this, that I don't now if I am really prepared for, but I think it is in order after apathy being the frontrunner for far too long.
In mid-June I started back in PHP. Jesus Christ, I fucking hate writing that. This shit feels like it's never ending. Sorry if that is disappointing to read. I didn't really tell many people about this return to treatment other than my parents and one friend, even if this meant I had to lie. I had been out for just three months and proven myself incompetent at recovering. That's what it felt like, at least. There were so many different feelings I had surrounding returning to treatment at CFD. I was proud that I was able to ask for more help even though it felt really awful. I was ashamed to go back and see people who were there for my goodbye group and my journey thus far. Especially because upon my departure, I did all I could to present as the perfect recovery success story and minimized my own fears and struggles that I was having in those same times. I also was angry and scared of going back to a place that felt really safe and having to go through all the transitions that come with starting in PHP all over again. I felt that I had been able to move on from the loss of that support and familiarity I had there and having to do it all over again because of my own doing (or lack there of, depending on how you look at it) pissed me off and scared me, too. I can't deny that I was still excited to have these things in my life again despite feeling ashamed of needing them. So, that's a sense of how I was feeling about it. My eating disorder had a few contributions, too, that can't be forgotten. Of course it was feeling all the things you would expect upon the return to a higher LOC: fear, anger, anxiety, etc. This mostly revolved around weight gain and eating significantly more than I had been. It also praised me and expressed it's gratitude for being "sick enough" to have to return to treatment. It felt validated, and therefore, so did I.
Fast forward to six and a half weeks later: today. Yes, you heard that right, I got six full weeks of PHP approved by my insurance without the need for even an appeal! I was shocked when I kept getting approved, and I'm sure it was a result of having to switch over to my mom's insurance provider instead of my dad's. This turned out to be the biggest blessing for me as they were reportedly much kinder than the previous people that my team had to work with. It was really humbling to have to see many of my peers deal with bad insurance calls and situations because I have been in their shoes over and over again ad I know how horrible it can be. To not be that person for once (or I guess twice if you count residential) was honestly weird. But it took a huge weight off my shoulders and really allowed me to focus on recovery knowing that my insurance company seemed to actually be on my side. I wish the same could be said for everyone who is trying to receive the care they need to recover. That being said, today is my first day of IOP and I've been really dreading this change all weekend. Because of the past struggles I have in IOP, my brain seems to associate it with not-so-good feelings. It gives me more time to myself and two more "feedings" to be responsible for on my own. I'm trying to talk myself down from these associations by highlighting the differences between this time and all the previous times. I start school in three weeks. I may feel like I have too much time on my hands now, but I am assuming give it 30 days and I will be killing for this time. I think now I have a different take on it because in the past, school and other things that I was working towards were more hypothetical. Now, I have my schedule and pretty much everything is set up to start pursing a whole new career than what I was doing at UT and I am really excited for it.
Which brings me to other aspects of school that I have to prepare for and expect. I am elated to return to my occupation of "student" and get out of this season of my life doing nothing but treatment (and occasional babysitting). As nice as it can be, it eventually got old, and, as crazy as it is, I actually miss school and learning. For a while I thought I would be living on my own near campus, but because of mostly financial reasons, I decided to live at home and commute to UH. Initially, I was really disappointed about this, but the closer that school gets, the more I realize that this was definitely the smarter decisions for a number of reasons, especially protecting my recovery (and ability to stay in school).The ED voice has been relentless in trying to use school to it's advantage, wanting me to seize every opportunity to please it when I am in the new environment on my own. Granted I will only have to go to campus three days a week and will be able to be home for most meals, there is the saying that goes: "give your ED an inch and it will take a mile". It's not wrong.
Glo
Comments
Post a Comment