On Being With Others

This was my first time in any treatment program. I hadn’t been seriously thinking of an eating disorder until March, so when I say that I’m “new” to this world, I really am.

I entered my treatment program on May 15 (Yes, my first night in treatment was on my birthday. How symbolic, right?). My fear prior to starting the program was that I would be the oldest person there. I suspected that I would be the only minority as well. I was indeed the only minority, but I was not the oldest. Of the eleven of us on that night, there was one male that was maybe in his 50’s, two other women that were maybe in their early 50’s, and one other woman who was in her 40’s like me. The rest of the women in the program were between 18 and 29 years old. There were only two of us who were working full-time at that time. Only one of us had children and those were adult children.

What I soon learned about treatment programs is the fluctuation in the number of patients at any time. The night that I entered the program, one of the women had just started the week before me and was new to any form of treatment as well. As the program progressed it was normal for people to be added to the program and others leaving at anytime. I learned not to get attached to other patients because they might not be a part of my life for very long. Our group was as large as 13 people at one point and was as low as 6 people at another.

What I would later learn is that everyone else had been through varying cycles of treatment over the years. For instance, one young lady had been through inpatient, residential, PHP, back to residential, down to PHP, IOP, outpatient, and back to residential. She was only 19 years old. These patients, who had cycled through the treatment system, knew all of the terminology, what is acceptable, the structure, and all of the “rules”. They also knew all of the “tricks” of treatment. Hearing them tell their stories could have easily been mistaken for people traveling for adventure just sharing stories. The difference was that they were talking about the various treatment facilities they had been to across the country over the years.

The stories of the other patients scared me. Not because of anything that happens in those programs, but because it made me face the fact that some people will spend a lifetime of suffering in a cycle of seeking help, getting to recovery, and then having to seek help again. Had I sought help many years ago, I may have already started the cycle. Most likely my turn in the cycle is just beginning, having just started the process. Now that I KNOW better, I have to try to DO better. Living in the bliss of ignorance about my behavior doesn’t change the fact that it’s always been there. I’m just getting started on the work of change now.

It was heartbreaking to eventually learn other’s history with their eating disorders. Anorexics, bulimics, bingers, restrictors, excessive exercisers, compulsive eaters; all in the same program with the same goal of living a “normal”, productive, happy life eventually. Lives put on hold while we find our way. College educations, employment, special events, families, friends, obligations, hopes, all deferred until we are well enough to reasonably manage or, at the minimum, survive. I would sit in my car each night before treatment and think to myself “there is no happiness in treatment”. I didn’t say it to be pessimistic, but it was reality and I had to accept it.