Refusals

I had my first refusal in IOP last night. Every little thing seems to be adding up lately, and I just had no desire to go to treatment last night.

I hate Tuesdays. We go to group for an hour, sit around doing nothing for an hour, and then eat dinner/post/go. So, I arrived at treatment a few minutes late because of work. I got my weight and vitals, which were miraculously in range without having taken my medication yesterday, done by staff and went off to group. Group was fine. I was pretty numbed out to the conversation of "Love Yourself." Never a fun topic, so I just kind of sat there, zoning out. Conversations about love and relationships make me anxious. Some of the topics brought up were pretty triggering. Anxiety builds.

So then, we have this awkward 45 to 60 minutes to sit around and do nothing. With any eating disorder, sitting and anticipating anything with food is the worst. Your anxiety kicks off and all you want to do is go to sleep to relieve it. Then, of course, I decided to pick a challenging meal, chicken and dumplings, instead of my typical sub-meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. So, my anxiety continues to build.

Then, I had e-mailed my psychiatrist on Friday morning. I wrote about surrendering to her in a previous blog and being willing to try medication. Well, Thursday night, she left me this long winded voicemail about how she is concerned that I am using alcohol so heavily that I will go into withdrawal and Wellbutrin can kick that off faster. Honestly, I am not drinking nearly as much as I have in the past. I am not even drinking to the point of getting drunk most of the time. I typically max out at 2 drinks, and then I'm good. I have never gone through alcohol withdrawal, only hangovers. So, I e-mailed her Friday morning explaining that my alcohol use is down and that I am not drinking every day, etc. She never responded. So, I didn't start the Wellbutrin. By last night, she still hadn't responded, which was frustrating because I knew she had worked multiple days at this point. My anxiety builds even more.

So, I decided to check in with one of my favorite staff members. I had gotten pretty close with her the first time I was there, so she has been through most of my breakdowns and previous struggles with me. I expressed how frustrated I am with this whole process. In a lot of ways, I feel like I've wasted the last 8 months of my life by doing this, but rationally, I know that this helped save my life. I shared how frustrated I am with my team's lack of responses and my meal plan. I talked about my alcohol use, and how much I have progressed with that. I shared my fears about losing my job, having to move home, and potentially having to go back to PHP. I basically just bitched about everything for 45 minutes and got some support, which was helpful, but my anxiety was still pretty high. She said she would contact my psychiatrist to see what was up and to try and get an answer for me about my medications. My anxiety is at an all time high.

Then, right before dinner, the nurse comes over and tells me that my psychiatrist has said "Absolutely not" to starting medications. So, I just started crying, because at this point, I was just so frustrated with everything. Of course, that's the same moment we're going to sit for dinner. My anxiety has cracked.

On the walk across the hall to dinner, I spoke with another staff member about my struggles today. She informed me she couldn't get my meal changed, so I would have to challenge myself. So, that was just the news I needed. We talked about how I don't feel my alcohol use is bad enough to warrant a ban on medications, especially when I am even open to trying them. I got to the meal really upset, which is never how you want to start challenging meals. The anxiety is overwhelming.

The meal itself was a salad, chicken and dumplings, and cookie cake. Whatever I didn't finish, I knew I would have to drink supplement for, and I didn't want to drink 24 ounces of fluid instead of food. So, I knew I would have to try to eat some of it. For supplementing, you have to eat all or nothing for the appetizer and desert. For the entree, it is none, half, or all of it. I knew I wouldn't finish the salad, because there were ingredients on there that, for taste preference reasons, I won't eat. I was actually able to eat half of the chicken and dumplings. I tried to just focus on conversation and checked in with staff if I was close to 50%. I was feeling too anxious to try and eat all of it. I was also able to finish the cookie cake; however, that still left me with 12 ounces of fluid to drink. For reference, that's like a can of soda, but when you are already feeling so anxious that you're incredibly nauseous, thinking about drinking that amount of liquid in 15 minutes is insane. I need a relief for my anxiety

So, I chose to refuse the supplement. In some ways, it was for practicality. With how sick I already felt, I thought I would lose everything by drinking so much liquid. So, I wanted to keep some calories in. Also, my eating disorder was screaming, because I felt so out of control with the entire day. I didn't want to put those calories in me. I checked in with the staff after the meal just to try and calm down enough. We agreed that I would take the supplement with me and made a 2 drink maximum deal for when I would be out later that evening. My anxiety finally lowered a little when I left.

Refusals are a tricky thing. I feel extremely guilty about it, because I feel like in IOP, I shouldn't be having any. I also feel like I am fucking up my recovery. At the same time, my eating disorder is so happy with me. I felt back in control and ready to go for the rest of the night, especially because the supplement is still sitting in my fridge. I know refusals are a part of this process, but I just wish this would start to get easier. With every little thing adding up, I truly still wonder if recovery is worth it. Then, I have to check myself, because I know it is. I have a responsibility to at least try and make it work, even if I am incredibly frustrated. I do not need to have control over everything, even though it feels like I do. I have control over my choices in recovery, and refusals cannot be a part of that.