Sweating Like A Hooker In Church...Again

Written by: Ryan K
Originally posted: 8/7/2015


Sorry mom. Sorry God.

So here we are. 

This elusive "path to recovery" they talk about ... How it's windy with a bunch of detours and one-ways and back paths and blah blah blah ... Basically, to get from point A (eating disorder land) to point B (recovery land), you don't get a straight shot on a nice suburban tree-lined road with leaves swaying under the sunlight. I find this troublesome.

Instead, it's ugly, it's dark, it's narrow, it goes over bridges that break halfway through and you find yourself struggling to stay afloat in shark-infested waters. 

Yes, that dramatic.

I left residential treatment 2.5 weeks ago feeling on top of the world. Like, I thought I was recovered. Past tense. Like, I'm done. I'm the one exception to the rule who, yes, after a few struggles, is onto recovery land and not looking back. See y'all on the other side! The view is great over here!

I am not there yet. 

So Ed has friends. He often works with Perfectionism, Anxiety and People Pleasing. When I moved to the Transitional Living House (TLH), I was so good at keeping Ed at bay. Even though I had way more freedom (and free time), I was able to manage the urges and he was nowhere to be found. So what did he do? 

He sent his buddy, Alcohol. 

About a week into living at TLH, I realized that although my ED behaviors were distant, I was drinking every day. Hmm. Curious. I have had issues with drinking and subsequent negative consequences before, but I'm not an alcoholic, right? I don't wake up shaking and drink immediately and then drink all day and all night. But I did say to myself, "You don't wanna develop a new problem and have to go away for something else lol." I use the "lol" as nervous laughter that makes the statement less intense.

Let's flip into timeline action, shall we?

Tues, July 28, 2015
After spending the weekend thinking I was going to get fired, an idea fabricated in my own head, I finally met up with my manager at a restaurant nearby. Naturally, we had drinks. We've had drinks a million times! It's fine. I came back drunk and sent my roommate to check in with the counselor on my behalf, and then she ended up joining me (I smuggled a bottle of vodka onto the premises. Note: TLH is a sober house. No drinking on or off the unit, and I knew this). We had a fun night and no behaviors were used. Yay!

Wed, July 29, 2015 
GEORGE EZRA concert! First real night out to see a musician I love, on my first non-treatment outing in months. Yay! I made a drink and had that with dinner, sitting across from the counselor. Ooh, bold. Went to the concert and had several more drinks. Yay! Real life! I'm 30! Normal! Drinking! Came back from the concert with severe binge urges. My roommate was having urges too, and so we ordered pizza and used behaviors ... together. Really, really, really, no bueno. Went to bed feeling very icky, guilty and disappointed. Not good.

Thurs, July 30, 2015
Went to program early with every intention of talking to the group about what happened and getting some feedback. Also to tell my case manager about what happened. Filled the daily check-in sheet with complete honesty re: my lapse, but then the nutritionist called me out to get my weight before program started. Weight has gone up! Again! Great job, Ryan! You are progressing BEAUTIFULLY, exactly how the team thinks you should be! Oh. OK. So many follow-up thoughts. Despite using behaviors, my weight still increased. It's almost like it didn't happen? The team is pleased with me! OK so really, maybe it didn't happen? I get to save myself so much grief today if it didn't happen. So it didn't happen. Went back to group room, crumpled up the original check-in sheet and filled out a new one. This time, I wrote that I hadn't used any behaviors. The streak was alive!

That night, I had dinner out with my mom, friend and cousin whom I haven't seen in a while because his family moved to Virginia. I desperately wanted to show how much progress I've made, while simultaneously feeling anxious about what triggering comments may be said. Long story short, the dinner didn't go superbly and despite being meal compliant, I was unhappy. Also, I was drunk. My roommate came back from a difficult night as well. She suggested going to the basement to play angry ping pong, which evolved into not-so-healthy "healthy anger" ping pong against the walls, turned into definitely-not-healthy-anger smashing paddles and Christmas tree ornaments on the street. Don't ask. We were pissed off at our eating disorders and we took it out on Christmas and table tennis equipment. We thought we cleaned sufficiently, but we did not. Needless to say, things don't go well over the next few days.

Fri, July 31, 2015
Went to program then made plans for a massage right after. Sweet! Got off the massage table around 5 PM and saw a text from the TLH life skills counselor (LSC) (lots of acronyms). 

"When are you back? We need to touch base."
Er. Sounds weird. Few minutes later I responded:
"On my way to the Porter Square station now. Am I in trouble?"
"Just come by the office when you're back :)"

Yes. There was that smiley face emoji. Using the smiley face emoji where it doesn’t belong is like saying, "No offense, but I really fucking hate you lol." It's terrifying. So then I call the LSC and ask if I am in trouble. I am told that we do need to talk when I am back. Panic attack ensues.

Turns out, getting to work greeted by a pile of destroyed ornament remnants on the street and then seeing the condition of the basement caused some alarm. There had been suspicions of my drinking in the previous days, and this was the icing on the cake (#notrigger). I was beyond horrified, fearing that I would be kicked out of the house and lose my support and out-of-pocket housing expenses. She told me to try and calm down, that I am not a bad person, and that I looked like I've seen a ghost. I certainly felt like it. My roommate was spoken to also, and we both had our tails between our legs, feeling guilty, self-loathing, remorseful, all of the fun stuff. But we tried to stay positive and promised to get through this together. The next step was meeting with the big boss lady of the center on Monday. She who shall not be named. We were nervous and scared, to say the least.

Sat, August 1 and Sun, August 2, 2015
We managed to get through the weekend, even getting together with friends and family. 

Here's the thing. I do not do well with the unknown. We knew we were expected to meet on Monday, but no idea when or where. The possibilities were endless, and not in a good way. Just in case she would be stopping by the house, we maniacally cleaned the apartment several times. On Sunday night, sleep was tough to come by.

Mon, August 3, 2015
THE BIG DAY. Anxiety as its best. I went to program nervous the entire time. Showed up thinking, "What if she's there now? Waiting for me already?" No sign. Reminded the LSC to text me as soon as there is further info about the meeting. Program goes by and no word. The silence was deafening. I leave early to clean the apartment some more, for good measure. Then it's a lot of waiting around. By 7:45 PM, any sounds of cars passing by, car doors slamming or car alarms going sent my roommate and me into a panicked scramble to the window to see if she had arrived. This happened for about two hours, after which the LSC told us big boss lady just called and will be meeting with us at 8:30 AM the following morning. I have never felt more simultaneously relieved and panicked.

Tues, August 4, 2015
THE BIG DAY. For real this time. Roomie and I put on some respectable dresses and anxiously wait in the CEDC lobby. BBL ended up speaking to the two of us individually, and in sum, was not pleased. I was told one more incident and I will be asked to leave on the spot. I told her I completely understand, and I am extremely apologetic, and it was never my intention to disrespect her, the program, or to destroy property.

Here's the thing. As shitty as I felt about myself, I was also very relieved and glad everything was out in the open. I knew my behavior was not cool, but I have an extremely hard time admitting to any wrongdoings and asking for help when deep down I know that's what I need. As difficult as this was to stomach, I thought back to the first time I was sweating like a hooker in church in residential, and how much I ended up learning from my mistake. People learn from their mistakes, right? That's a thing? I tried to use some self-compassion while feeling grateful that I wasn't immediately evicted so I could get my progress back on track.


My team told me they can only work with what I share with them, so it doesn't help anyone if there are discrepancies between reality and what I say. Not only is it hard for me to admit when I am "misbehaving," I was also scared that any sign of struggle would send me back to residential care. And I can't do that! I have to go back to work! It's been too long!

In the end, it's that acceptance from months ago that I finally had to the idea of needing treatment that I need to hold on to. The more pressure I put on myself, the less progress I make. So what if I need to go back to resi? I don't think I will, but just the mere allowance of that thought has helped me do better in the past few days. I need to remember what I told the New Girl ... Go in with an open mind, and remember you are exactly where you need to be. This whole ordeal sucked, but I'm glad my struggle with drinking came out while I was here with the necessary support, because Lord knows some shit would’ve gone down with my return to company and industry cultures of frequent drinking.


So I'm not sweating as much anymore, but for next time, I do need to work on proactively staying hydrated before passing out from a heat stroke. Hydrated with non-alcoholic beverages, of course.



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Original post can be found at www.ryandoesresi.com.