DISCLAIMER: This blog-post contains poop-related material. Those suffering with fecal-phobia use caution.
On Monday, I started going to PHP (partial hospitalization program) in Columbus. Going in, I wasn't expecting much of anything different than what I already know from past treatments, so I wasn't really looking too forward to it; BUT I kept an open mind. Essentially, the program is exactly like residential but I go home at night. The day went well: I ate all of my meals with no problems (they never are in treatment), I participated in groups (which I loathe), and I made some new friends with the three other kids in the program (I'm also the oldest of the group). As the day came to a close, my stomach started feeling funky. I figured it was because I was full or my stomach was starting to hurt from all of the food I had consumed that day, but that also struck me as odd because I had been through treatment numerous times where I'd have to eat just as much (if not more) food, and I never had problems with it. Nonetheless, I carried on with the day into "wrap-up group" with the parents who pick us up at the end of the day. Mom picked me up, and as we drove home in the car, I had to shut my eyes and sit there. My stomach was in a great deal of stress. I felt constipated and that wasn't any fun at all. When we got home, I took my coat off, and went straight to the couch where I fell asleep for the rest of the night. My stomach was in so much pain that I couldn't do anything else but sleep. I woke up the next morning around 6 and went straight to the bathroom. SURPRISE! I had friggin' diarrhea. What a way to greet the day. I ended up going to the bathroom 3 times before we left home to go to Columbus around 7. All of the way there, my stomach was upset. In my day at treatment, I ate all of my meals with difficulty because my stomach hurt so badly. I also went to the bathroom at any chance that I had, and I went every stinkin' time. I looked like death, on top of it all. I met with my doctor, and he said it was a stomach virus of some sort (which made sense because my dad had the exact same symptoms the week prior...thanks a lot, Dave). He didn't give me any medicine because he said the virus needed to come out, and the only way it would was through defecating it on out. He did order me Gatorade, though, because apparently diarrhea causes dehydration. The day went on with a great deal of stress and pain, but I pushed through. And then dinner happened: a soppy joe, chips and salsa, vanilla pudding, milk, and grapes. The thing about eating in an eating disorder program is that you have to eat everything, 100 % of what you're given, even if you're sick. Dinner was a nightmare. I could barely eat a tablespoon of food without my stomach getting unspeakably painful, and here I was downing more food than most "normal" people eat. Ugh. I started shoveling it down because I wanted to get it over with and not think about it or the pain I was going through. I'm pretty sure I can never eat vanilla pudding or salsa again without getting sick. I don't know if it was because of the dehydration or what, but by the time that I got to the sloppy joe, my mouth literally would not produce enough saliva for me to chew my food. With the assistance of the wee-bit of milk that I had left, I managed to finish the entire meal...Ouch. As we went into wrap-up group, everyone noticed how bad and sickly I looked as I walked into the room after going to the bathroom (AGAIN). I could hardly speak because of my stomach. That was not what I would consider to be a "pleasant dining experience" in the slightest.
After the "fun" day at treatment, mom and I headed over to the Ronald McDonald house approximately three minutes away. I've decided to call this my "McHome" or "McHouse" for the time being, since I am basically living there for the month. We checked in and went straight to our room. I promptly claimed my bed, wrapped up in about 30 blankets and my plushy, yellow bath robe, and fell asleep. Like the night before, I was freezing and being tortured by my stomach, so I again had no choice but to sleep. I woke up later around 9 because (despite my stomach issues) I had to have a snack. Luckily, all that it had to be was 4 oz. of orange juice, so Mom and I sat in the kitchen area downstairs as I drank it and she told me about her day. We returned to the room, and I went back to bed, feeling like my stomach would explode. I woke up around 1:30 and had to go to the bathroom (big surprise) where I was for about half an hour. There really is nothing more fun than sitting on the toilet, especially in the middle of the night.
The following morning, I woke up to a new day with less stomach pain and a lot of snow outside. We got ready for the day, and went downstairs to see about breakfast (it was Wednesday, and on Wednesdays you have breakfast at home instead of at treatment). Mom got a call from work saying that the snow caused them to delay opening until 11, so she had more time to get ready and take care of me. In the kitchen area, we saw one of my new friend's who is also staying at the Ronald McDonald house. He and his mom were also making breakfast, and they told us that they got a call from the program saying they were cancelling treatment for the day because of the weather. We realy lucked out on seeing them because we recieved no call, no message, no pony express...nothin'. I could have ended up over at the stupid facility alone. BUT that was not the case, and I'm pretty grateful that we saw them when we did. Having no time restrictions now, mom and I took the shuttle over to the hospital across the street to get breakfast. I had my exchanges for the meal, along with my stomach issues. I got something that I thought met it, but also wouldn't make my tummy troubles worse. I finished most of it, but then my stomach started to hurt again and I couldn't finish. Mom recieved a call from work again, but this time to tell her that they were cancelling her work all together that day because of the weather conditions. So we had the whole day to do whatever we wanted...which was very little because I was sick, she developed a headache, and no one was technically supposed to be "driving" or "out" because of "dangerous weather conditions" (psh, girl please). The rest of the day was spent sleeping, laying around, watching "Let's Make A Deal" and "The Price Is Right," eating very little to appease my stomach, making valentines in the craft room, and being bored. My stomach hurt, but not as bad as it had because I wasn't forcing food down my throat. Plus my diarrhea subsided, so in some regards, I was living what we like to call "the dream life." The next day at treatment, I ate breakfast, anxious that it would upset my stomach and send me into more excruciating pain. What do you know? It didn't! I went on to eat all of my meals with hardly any pain, and that was a good thing.
Being sick this week was such a struggle. Like, how lucky am I that I get a virus that makes eating a death sentance in the midst of being force fed a lot of food? #AWESOME. Besides that, though, I spent a lot of time coloring or doing wordsearches because I had nothing better to do. I get bored WAYYYYY too easily. I can't really stop and do one thing without getting impatient and anxious, so relaxing and I are not friends. This is not a good equation for me right now, and it's sent me into a bad depression. The fact that I have nothing to do bothers me a lot. I miss being a student. I could use my time to study or do homework, but no...I just have to sit and do puzzle books. Mom and I were driving around on OSU's campus the other night, and as I watched all of the kids walking around, going into restaurants, being with their riends, and doing other things that college kids do, I became indredibly bummed. I just kept thinking, "that should be me." That should be me. This eating disorder has made me lose friends, family, my passions, my personality, my sense of caring, it's made me bitter and impatient and mean...and now it's taken away my sense of "normalcy" in that of being a student. My entire life is "off-track" so to speak because of the dumb thing.
In my devotion yesterday, it spoke of the story in Matthew where Peter asks Jesus to let him walk on the water to join him, Jesus allows it, Peter starts, Peter freaks, and Peter sinks, then Jesus asks him why he asked for something and then didn't trust him to do it. Still, Jesus was there for Peter the rest of his days on Earth and made him more than he could have ever have dreamed of being. This really spoke to me because I'm the same way, especially right now. I constantly ask God for help, and he always gives it to me. Sometimes I may try to do what he's helping me to, but I always end up doubting and not trusting God, so I fall and end up back to square one. Regardlesss, God is still there for me, waiiting to help me when I am ready to trust him 100%. I've asked God for 4 years to help me end this battle; God has given me treatments, meal plans, people, and countless other resources to help me overcome it; I often start acting on or with these things, but I doubt that they will work or I get scared of the unknown outcomes, and I end up falling again, which is why I'm where I am today. Even though I've doubted God and haven't trusted his plans for me (which I know isn't good), he takes me back and will continue to help me until I do respond. He's always going to be there for me. That's the cool thing about God: He is constant; while humans would get impatient and sick of trying, God never does because he loves us that much. I'm hoping that this time, I do respond to God's call for me to recover because I am so sick of dealing with this, and hurting the people who love me by forcing them to watch me go through it. I want to live my life, and do good things for the Kingdom of God, and be a student, and go to school, and travel, and help people, and stay out late, and do silly shenanigans, and have a personality, and all that I really want...freedom. I don't want to feel guilty everytime that I eat, or get anxious or stressed out over food, or be mean to people, or be so depressed. Those outcomes are worth more than the outcomes that my eating disorder promises me, so I must keep them in mind.
This was a pretty "poopy" week overall, both literally and figuratively. It actually really sucks right now, but I'm okay with it. I was never promised that I was going to be happy all of the time, or that treatment would be easy. I just have to keep my goals and hopes and dreams in mind to pull me through, while trying to take each day as it comes and learn something from it, even if that lesson comes while on the toilet.
Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
You Wouldn't Even Recognize Me Anymore...
It's been, what? Two months since I last wrote? Sorry (to the, like, 4 people who follow me). There's been quite a bit going on. SO I decided that I would write about the relevant things because YOLO!
When we last left off, it was Thanksgiving and I had just started to eat meat again. Since then, things have changed...welcome to life, right?
For starters, I don't know how or why it happened, but the couple weeks leading up to Christmas break (the same time as Thanksgiving) I developed really bad anxiety. I don't know why, but I was super anxious. I was ready to leave Lee and go home for break, and I didn't want to wait. I was so stinking bored ALL of the time and I was just ready to be home, doing things with my friends. I also think that eating meat made me INCREDIBLY anxious because I hadn't done it in so long, and (I know, this sounds really dumb) I just didn't know how to eat meat. I decided when I returned from my friend's house over Thanksgiving that I would return to my pescetarian lifestyle, and only eat meat when I traveled and didn't want to be rude to the host home where I was staying. That would have been all good and well, but the anxiety remained even when I decided to not eat meat again. For some reason that I cannot for the life of me figure out, I decided that I was just going to not eat anything close to what "normal" or "semi-normal" eating is. For example, I would force myself to sleep in so that I didn't have to eat breakfast, and then some days I would go to Zumba because it gave me something to do and prolonged the amount of time that I wouldn't have to eat (but, honestly, I do like Zumba. I'd like to be an instructor when I'm in a better mindset/condition), and then I would eat lunch and dinner (which weren't by any means "adequate"), and then have a snack before I went to bed. Now, for some reason, I never fail to have a bedtime snack; it's comforting to me. As of late, I feel like I binge a lot during that time 1. because i hadn't eaten anything all day 2. because I was trying to make myself fuller so I wouldn't be as hungry in the morning (which doesn't work to well, btw). I also started losing my appetite because I was too anxious to eat, so that helped my little scheme. I began to feel quite depressed because I hated the lifestyle I was living, I hated being at school and bored every waking moment of the day, and I just didn't know what I was doing in my life. Worst of all, my relationship with God was no where near where I wanted it to be (which is my fault). I knew he was there and working in my life, but I couldn't see it or feel it (which sucks and makes having faith a lot harder, but you've gotta do what ya gotta do.)
The week before exams, I started packing my car because I didn't want to wait and I just wanted the time to go to be there. I dyed my hair dark, and I love it (except it has a reddish tint that I'm not crazy about). It's funny because when I have dark hair, I don't look adopted and I look like my family (they all have dark hair). When Exams came around, I only had to take one because I was exempt from my other one (I didn't have a very challenging semester by any means...). I was set to come home on a Tuesday, but since I finished my one exam at 10:45, I decided that I had no inclination to stay longer than I had to. I decided that I would surprise my parents and show up on Monday instead of Tuesday. So, that Monday, I got everything in my car, used as many meals as I could so they didn't go to waste, said my goodbyes, got my coffee, took my exam (which I pretty much buzzed through because I wasn't sure about half of the answers and I wanted to get out), went to Dunkin Donuts to get my mom some donuts and use the remainder of flex that I had, and then I hit the road. I left Cleveland around 10:45ish and got into Newark around 7. Before I came in my house, I called my parents, as I do every night, and talked to them like normal. They were freaking out and giving me instructions on how to drive the following day because the weather was supposed to be bad. I muted my phone, knocked on my door, and my mom answered. She said that she almost didn't let me in because she thought that I was either a stranger or one of my best friend's who lives across the street (so why she wouldn't let her in anyway, I have no idea). When she realized it was me, I was granted entry, and I approached my dad who was screaming into his phone, thinking that he lost the connection with me. As he shouted, "ZOE! ZOE!" I responded, right next to his side, with "WHAT!" He looked up and the only thing that he said was "Oh...hi." Apparently he thought I was one of momma's friends. That night, I got a pizza from my favorite Newark pizzeria (Debra's...#nomnomnom), and my family and I all just sat in my living room watching TV on the new couch they had just bought (it's a nice one, too). I was SO happy to be home. More so, I was super excited because I thought that I would start eating normally again. Yeah...eating disorders don't usually work like that...
Over break, I started working at the one, the only...Bob Evans. Not just Bob Evans, but THE Bob Evans that my mom has worked at for years. It's almost a family business, I am not even kidding. Believe it or not, after spending years being vehemently anti-Bob's, I actually really like my job! Weirder, I'm not as repulsed by the food that they make... I actually kind of like it...woah. I worked mostly mornings, which gave me the perfect excuse to go continue with my habit of consuming nothing but coffee until later in the day. Basically, my schedule was like this on the days that I worked: Wake up, drink coffee, work until around 2 or 3, eat yogurt, sit around, eat dinner, sit next to the fireplace (SIDE NOTE: THAT IS THE MOST GLORIOUS THING), drink copious amounts of diet soda to suppress my hunger, sit some more and watch TV with my family, eat what I would consider a "binge", go to sleep. On days that I didn't work, I typically forced myself to sleep in so that I didn't have to eat, and then I would try and find something to do with my friends. I made this entire list of things that I wanted to do and people I wanted to see over break, so I was pretty determined to get them done, and I did actually do a great deal of them. I love my friends back at home! They are great and understanding. I feel like I got a lot closer to someone whom I've considered to be a best friend since, like, 8th grade, but we never really hung out or talked that much in high school. We only hung out 4 times tops, and not getting to hang out with her became one of the biggest reasons that I was sad to have to go back to school.
Christmas came and it was not very good, to be quite honest. I really don't like to holidays. Why? Food. I see all of the delicious treats that accompany Christmas, remember enjoying them so much as a child, and then I don't eat them. If I do, then I feel a tremendous amount of guilt and I sometimes eat too much of it, and those are both things I don't want to happen. This year, though, I think that I had a grand total of one large Christmas cookie, and maybe 4 pieces of candy all together. I didn't binge or feel guilt, but I still didn't allow myself to eat as much as I should have. On Christmas day, I was not pleasant at all because I...well, I don't know why exactly; I suppose just the food thing. I was mean to my mom (which I still feel horrible about) and I just sat around all day. A big reason for my unpleasantness was because we had cinnamon rolls for breakfast. "That should make you happy, not unhappy!" Right? But no. I felt obligated to eat them because I asked for them (because we used to eat them every Christmas morning growing up). I had it set in my mind that I was going to eat them for almost two weeks, and I wasn't going to not. I had planned out what I would consume the rest of the day and I wasn't going to stray from that. I ate a cinnamon roll with my family at breakfast, drinking coffee (mocha flavored Kahlua coffee is horrendous, by the way. Like, Dunkin Donuts has better coffee...and that says a lot.), drank two cans of soda at my cousins' house, got stir-fried shrimp and vegetables at the Chinese restaurant that I hate but we go to every year for Christmas, and then had a frozen protein shake or something like that for snackage. And the biggest Christmas miracle? I felt tremendously guilty after! Shocking... The day eventually ended and the next few days were fine. Then came New Years Eve. I decided that I didn't want interaction with humans of any sort, so I stayed at home and sat on the couch with my parents. Dad watched something on TV, mom slept, and I played on my laptop. And you know what? I was perfectly happy with that. We turned on the New Years rockin' eve, or whatever that is, about 2 minutes prior to midnight, watched the ball drop, and then I promptly went to bed. New Years day, believe it or don't was actually really great! I woke up around 8 because I had to work (another reason why I didn't really want to do anything the night before), had my daily "breakfast" of coffee, had a great day at work, and then mom picked me up and brought me home to discuss our plans for the evening. We have a tradition of going to Columbus to see a movie (typically in IMAX) every year on New Year's, so we went to see "The Hobbit." Before that, we went out to dinner. Talk about the dream life: not only did I get to spend my entire New Year's day working at Bob Evans, but I even got to eat there! Actually, I was happy with that because it sounded good, we get an employee discount, and I didn't regret what I ate. We then saw the movie (WHICH WAS AWESOME), went home, and sat together in the living room. I'm really happy because it was a good day with no guilt and little anxiety that I got to share with my family.
Oh, Lee. How you were on my mind over break. I spent my entire break dreading the thought of going back to Lee. It's not that I missed home, it's that Cleveland is the most boring place I have ever endured and I couldn't stand the thought of returning to that level of boredom/inactivity/nothingness. I looked up schools to transfer to, went on two visits to OSU, and filled out different applications for transferring in the 2014 fall semester. I planned on going back to Lee, despite my dread, to give it another try. In all fairness, I think a lot of why I was so bored was because I wasn't as involved as I wanted to be, and I only took 12 credit hours of dull, non-mentally stimulating courses. I give it that. But, I struggled a lot over break as to whether or not to return next semester at all. I figured I could maybe take classes at OSU-Newark (despite my best wishes) this semester and then transfer to main campus next year. I texted my friends back at Lee from time to time when I was really thinking about how much I would hate going back. One of those friends (who also had a hard time deciding whether or not to stay at Lee her first semester) decided that she wasn't going to back next semester. I was so jealous of the fact that I had to go back and she didn't. I texted her about it, and she really helped me get a better mind set about making my decision because I really was struggling with it.
The day after I texted my friend, the "polar vortex" hit. Funny story: our furnace began acting up and our power was going in and out on the coldest night of the millennium...lawlz. Anyway, my mom took that Monday off because of the bad weather conditions. For Christmas, I had given her a coupon that enabled her to have me eat anything that she wanted me to. She's always telling me about how she wished that I would eat certain things, so I figured I could give her one day to fulfill those wishes and one day without me being in control. For lunch, we went to the Village Coffee House in Granville, and shared a plain bagel (like, plain? Really mom?) with cream cheese, a veggie wrap, harvest grain and mushroom soup, and a buckeye latte and white chocolate mocha. I ate/drank this stuff because it was part of the deal, but I felt guilty 1. because I felt that it was a ton of food 2. it wasn't what I would consider a "balanced" meal 3. I didn't enjoy the taste of anything besides the soup too much 4. she didn't know that when I said I would eat anything she wanted me to, I literally meant ANYTHING (meat included). So she kind of wished that we had done something different, but we ended up talking to the employees and having a good time. For dinner, we went to Hot Head burritos, and she had my dad make mine for me: a full size burrito with brown rice, black beans, cheese, lettuce, corn, pico de gallo, and guacamole. It was okay, but it wasn't something I'd get again. Mom had me try her's too, which had pork, rice, cheese, lettuce, and sour cream; I liked hers way more than mine, but I also used to enjoy getting a burrito with rice, cheese and sour cream when I went to Chipotle back in the day (I got that order for $1.60 once, thank you very much). Later that night, we both had the new "Ron Burgundy/Anchorman" inspired Ben&Jerry's ice cream (butterscotch on butterscotch...mmm) and a piece of chocolate bread from Bob Evans (I don't know why they call their breads "bread." They are all cake, if we're being honest with ourselves). I sat next to the fire as a I enjoyed my ice cream and "bread" and it was a good. As I laid in bed later, the eating disorder part of me felt guilty, but the me part of me was satisfied, enjoyed my day, and was happy that I wasn't in control and could just let myself eat with no reservations.
So here we are, 4 days later, and quite a bit has happened. On Tuesday, I picked my dad up from work. As we drove, I talked to him about how I felt guilty about the previous day, how I didn't know what to do with my life, how I didn't want to go back to school, and just venting my feelings of depression and distress. Later that night, we were watching "Sherlock", but I was thinking too much to really engage in the show. I thought. I thought for a good while; I then made a decision. I can't do this on my own. I can't. My eating disorder has hit me, and it's hit me hard. I know that if I keep up with the way things are, I'm going to die. I know that if I go back to Lee, I'm going to continue with the way things are now and I wouldn't be able to get the help that I need, and I'm going to die. The day prior, I gave up control. When I'm in control, I'M not in control, but my eating disorder is. I can't do it anymore; I don't want to do it anymore. Because I never eat and fuel myself, I never have energy and I've become incredibly bitter, selfish, and moody; I hate it. I want to live my life serving God and I want to help people. I hate that I'm always so wrapped up in myself because I'm too tired or focused on food to care about others or my relationship with God. Throughout this break, I've prayed (not often, I'd like to add) that God would show his will for me and my life, especially regarding college. As I sat in my family room on Tuesday night thinking, I made a decision and I believe that God revealed it to me.
What is this big God-revealed decision, you ask?
I have decided that I will not be returning to Lee University in Cleveland, Tennessee for the Spring 2014 semester. I have decided to enroll in classes at the Ohio State University-Newark campus, while staying at home with my family so that they can take care of me. I'm going to start going to outpatient treatment like I used to go to at Nationwide Children's Hospital in Columbus. And you know what? I am so excited and couldn't be happier with the decision that I've made. My parents will be in control of my food (making my meals, choosing what I'll eat when we go out, helping me make decisions about food when I have to, etc.), so that I can be in control in things that are actually important in my life like my school work, my friendships, helping others in anyway that I can, and building up my relationship with God. When I made my decision on Tuesday night, I prayed that if my decision was God's will then to let doors be open so that it would be done, and they were. On Wednesday, I was scheduled to work at Bob Evans, but mom called OSU-N (who's first day of classes were that same day because the "polar vortex" caused them to cancel the two days prior), talked to a lady who said it would be impossible for me to enroll, was transferred to someone else who said that he could do it, and then she called to tell me that I needed to go to the campus down the street to enroll. I called off of work, met with the man (who is an absolute angel) that mom spoke with, signed some papers, took a math placement test, and scheduled my classes for the semester. Thus, I became a buckeye and I had my first day of classes yesterday. Oh yeah...doors swung.
Now, I'm going to go to school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, work on other days, go to treatment, and just start to live. I'm sure it will be hard, but I know that this is best for me. I have the support and help of my family, my friends, and God. I'm so excited to start eating and getting healthy again, getting back on my feet. It's amazing how one's ideals change over time: I've always looked at people who went to OSU-Newark as failures, drop-outs, or people without high ambition or goals in life. Now, I realize that it is just as good of a school as any of them out there, and is really smart in regards to finances. By no means do I want to stay in Newark the rest of my life, but for now I'm content. I want to transfer to OSU-Main Campus in Columbus, but for now, I want to really focus on getting better. Lee is a great school, and I'm happy for people who can find happiness there; I could not. I'll miss the showers, the coffee at Einstein Brothers, and the friends that I made and love. However, I believe that God is calling me to something else, and I'm going to try and follow that call as best as I can. I don't know why I was brought to Lee, just to be hospitalized in September, just to go back to Tennessee and go to treatment, just to hating my life down there, just to coming home...I can't figure it out, and that's okay. I'm putting my trust in God and believing that this is all happening for a reason.
When we last left off, it was Thanksgiving and I had just started to eat meat again. Since then, things have changed...welcome to life, right?
For starters, I don't know how or why it happened, but the couple weeks leading up to Christmas break (the same time as Thanksgiving) I developed really bad anxiety. I don't know why, but I was super anxious. I was ready to leave Lee and go home for break, and I didn't want to wait. I was so stinking bored ALL of the time and I was just ready to be home, doing things with my friends. I also think that eating meat made me INCREDIBLY anxious because I hadn't done it in so long, and (I know, this sounds really dumb) I just didn't know how to eat meat. I decided when I returned from my friend's house over Thanksgiving that I would return to my pescetarian lifestyle, and only eat meat when I traveled and didn't want to be rude to the host home where I was staying. That would have been all good and well, but the anxiety remained even when I decided to not eat meat again. For some reason that I cannot for the life of me figure out, I decided that I was just going to not eat anything close to what "normal" or "semi-normal" eating is. For example, I would force myself to sleep in so that I didn't have to eat breakfast, and then some days I would go to Zumba because it gave me something to do and prolonged the amount of time that I wouldn't have to eat (but, honestly, I do like Zumba. I'd like to be an instructor when I'm in a better mindset/condition), and then I would eat lunch and dinner (which weren't by any means "adequate"), and then have a snack before I went to bed. Now, for some reason, I never fail to have a bedtime snack; it's comforting to me. As of late, I feel like I binge a lot during that time 1. because i hadn't eaten anything all day 2. because I was trying to make myself fuller so I wouldn't be as hungry in the morning (which doesn't work to well, btw). I also started losing my appetite because I was too anxious to eat, so that helped my little scheme. I began to feel quite depressed because I hated the lifestyle I was living, I hated being at school and bored every waking moment of the day, and I just didn't know what I was doing in my life. Worst of all, my relationship with God was no where near where I wanted it to be (which is my fault). I knew he was there and working in my life, but I couldn't see it or feel it (which sucks and makes having faith a lot harder, but you've gotta do what ya gotta do.)
The week before exams, I started packing my car because I didn't want to wait and I just wanted the time to go to be there. I dyed my hair dark, and I love it (except it has a reddish tint that I'm not crazy about). It's funny because when I have dark hair, I don't look adopted and I look like my family (they all have dark hair). When Exams came around, I only had to take one because I was exempt from my other one (I didn't have a very challenging semester by any means...). I was set to come home on a Tuesday, but since I finished my one exam at 10:45, I decided that I had no inclination to stay longer than I had to. I decided that I would surprise my parents and show up on Monday instead of Tuesday. So, that Monday, I got everything in my car, used as many meals as I could so they didn't go to waste, said my goodbyes, got my coffee, took my exam (which I pretty much buzzed through because I wasn't sure about half of the answers and I wanted to get out), went to Dunkin Donuts to get my mom some donuts and use the remainder of flex that I had, and then I hit the road. I left Cleveland around 10:45ish and got into Newark around 7. Before I came in my house, I called my parents, as I do every night, and talked to them like normal. They were freaking out and giving me instructions on how to drive the following day because the weather was supposed to be bad. I muted my phone, knocked on my door, and my mom answered. She said that she almost didn't let me in because she thought that I was either a stranger or one of my best friend's who lives across the street (so why she wouldn't let her in anyway, I have no idea). When she realized it was me, I was granted entry, and I approached my dad who was screaming into his phone, thinking that he lost the connection with me. As he shouted, "ZOE! ZOE!" I responded, right next to his side, with "WHAT!" He looked up and the only thing that he said was "Oh...hi." Apparently he thought I was one of momma's friends. That night, I got a pizza from my favorite Newark pizzeria (Debra's...#nomnomnom), and my family and I all just sat in my living room watching TV on the new couch they had just bought (it's a nice one, too). I was SO happy to be home. More so, I was super excited because I thought that I would start eating normally again. Yeah...eating disorders don't usually work like that...
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| Me with muh new hairs |
Over break, I started working at the one, the only...Bob Evans. Not just Bob Evans, but THE Bob Evans that my mom has worked at for years. It's almost a family business, I am not even kidding. Believe it or not, after spending years being vehemently anti-Bob's, I actually really like my job! Weirder, I'm not as repulsed by the food that they make... I actually kind of like it...woah. I worked mostly mornings, which gave me the perfect excuse to go continue with my habit of consuming nothing but coffee until later in the day. Basically, my schedule was like this on the days that I worked: Wake up, drink coffee, work until around 2 or 3, eat yogurt, sit around, eat dinner, sit next to the fireplace (SIDE NOTE: THAT IS THE MOST GLORIOUS THING), drink copious amounts of diet soda to suppress my hunger, sit some more and watch TV with my family, eat what I would consider a "binge", go to sleep. On days that I didn't work, I typically forced myself to sleep in so that I didn't have to eat, and then I would try and find something to do with my friends. I made this entire list of things that I wanted to do and people I wanted to see over break, so I was pretty determined to get them done, and I did actually do a great deal of them. I love my friends back at home! They are great and understanding. I feel like I got a lot closer to someone whom I've considered to be a best friend since, like, 8th grade, but we never really hung out or talked that much in high school. We only hung out 4 times tops, and not getting to hang out with her became one of the biggest reasons that I was sad to have to go back to school.
Christmas came and it was not very good, to be quite honest. I really don't like to holidays. Why? Food. I see all of the delicious treats that accompany Christmas, remember enjoying them so much as a child, and then I don't eat them. If I do, then I feel a tremendous amount of guilt and I sometimes eat too much of it, and those are both things I don't want to happen. This year, though, I think that I had a grand total of one large Christmas cookie, and maybe 4 pieces of candy all together. I didn't binge or feel guilt, but I still didn't allow myself to eat as much as I should have. On Christmas day, I was not pleasant at all because I...well, I don't know why exactly; I suppose just the food thing. I was mean to my mom (which I still feel horrible about) and I just sat around all day. A big reason for my unpleasantness was because we had cinnamon rolls for breakfast. "That should make you happy, not unhappy!" Right? But no. I felt obligated to eat them because I asked for them (because we used to eat them every Christmas morning growing up). I had it set in my mind that I was going to eat them for almost two weeks, and I wasn't going to not. I had planned out what I would consume the rest of the day and I wasn't going to stray from that. I ate a cinnamon roll with my family at breakfast, drinking coffee (mocha flavored Kahlua coffee is horrendous, by the way. Like, Dunkin Donuts has better coffee...and that says a lot.), drank two cans of soda at my cousins' house, got stir-fried shrimp and vegetables at the Chinese restaurant that I hate but we go to every year for Christmas, and then had a frozen protein shake or something like that for snackage. And the biggest Christmas miracle? I felt tremendously guilty after! Shocking... The day eventually ended and the next few days were fine. Then came New Years Eve. I decided that I didn't want interaction with humans of any sort, so I stayed at home and sat on the couch with my parents. Dad watched something on TV, mom slept, and I played on my laptop. And you know what? I was perfectly happy with that. We turned on the New Years rockin' eve, or whatever that is, about 2 minutes prior to midnight, watched the ball drop, and then I promptly went to bed. New Years day, believe it or don't was actually really great! I woke up around 8 because I had to work (another reason why I didn't really want to do anything the night before), had my daily "breakfast" of coffee, had a great day at work, and then mom picked me up and brought me home to discuss our plans for the evening. We have a tradition of going to Columbus to see a movie (typically in IMAX) every year on New Year's, so we went to see "The Hobbit." Before that, we went out to dinner. Talk about the dream life: not only did I get to spend my entire New Year's day working at Bob Evans, but I even got to eat there! Actually, I was happy with that because it sounded good, we get an employee discount, and I didn't regret what I ate. We then saw the movie (WHICH WAS AWESOME), went home, and sat together in the living room. I'm really happy because it was a good day with no guilt and little anxiety that I got to share with my family.
Oh, Lee. How you were on my mind over break. I spent my entire break dreading the thought of going back to Lee. It's not that I missed home, it's that Cleveland is the most boring place I have ever endured and I couldn't stand the thought of returning to that level of boredom/inactivity/nothingness. I looked up schools to transfer to, went on two visits to OSU, and filled out different applications for transferring in the 2014 fall semester. I planned on going back to Lee, despite my dread, to give it another try. In all fairness, I think a lot of why I was so bored was because I wasn't as involved as I wanted to be, and I only took 12 credit hours of dull, non-mentally stimulating courses. I give it that. But, I struggled a lot over break as to whether or not to return next semester at all. I figured I could maybe take classes at OSU-Newark (despite my best wishes) this semester and then transfer to main campus next year. I texted my friends back at Lee from time to time when I was really thinking about how much I would hate going back. One of those friends (who also had a hard time deciding whether or not to stay at Lee her first semester) decided that she wasn't going to back next semester. I was so jealous of the fact that I had to go back and she didn't. I texted her about it, and she really helped me get a better mind set about making my decision because I really was struggling with it.
The day after I texted my friend, the "polar vortex" hit. Funny story: our furnace began acting up and our power was going in and out on the coldest night of the millennium...lawlz. Anyway, my mom took that Monday off because of the bad weather conditions. For Christmas, I had given her a coupon that enabled her to have me eat anything that she wanted me to. She's always telling me about how she wished that I would eat certain things, so I figured I could give her one day to fulfill those wishes and one day without me being in control. For lunch, we went to the Village Coffee House in Granville, and shared a plain bagel (like, plain? Really mom?) with cream cheese, a veggie wrap, harvest grain and mushroom soup, and a buckeye latte and white chocolate mocha. I ate/drank this stuff because it was part of the deal, but I felt guilty 1. because I felt that it was a ton of food 2. it wasn't what I would consider a "balanced" meal 3. I didn't enjoy the taste of anything besides the soup too much 4. she didn't know that when I said I would eat anything she wanted me to, I literally meant ANYTHING (meat included). So she kind of wished that we had done something different, but we ended up talking to the employees and having a good time. For dinner, we went to Hot Head burritos, and she had my dad make mine for me: a full size burrito with brown rice, black beans, cheese, lettuce, corn, pico de gallo, and guacamole. It was okay, but it wasn't something I'd get again. Mom had me try her's too, which had pork, rice, cheese, lettuce, and sour cream; I liked hers way more than mine, but I also used to enjoy getting a burrito with rice, cheese and sour cream when I went to Chipotle back in the day (I got that order for $1.60 once, thank you very much). Later that night, we both had the new "Ron Burgundy/Anchorman" inspired Ben&Jerry's ice cream (butterscotch on butterscotch...mmm) and a piece of chocolate bread from Bob Evans (I don't know why they call their breads "bread." They are all cake, if we're being honest with ourselves). I sat next to the fire as a I enjoyed my ice cream and "bread" and it was a good. As I laid in bed later, the eating disorder part of me felt guilty, but the me part of me was satisfied, enjoyed my day, and was happy that I wasn't in control and could just let myself eat with no reservations.
So here we are, 4 days later, and quite a bit has happened. On Tuesday, I picked my dad up from work. As we drove, I talked to him about how I felt guilty about the previous day, how I didn't know what to do with my life, how I didn't want to go back to school, and just venting my feelings of depression and distress. Later that night, we were watching "Sherlock", but I was thinking too much to really engage in the show. I thought. I thought for a good while; I then made a decision. I can't do this on my own. I can't. My eating disorder has hit me, and it's hit me hard. I know that if I keep up with the way things are, I'm going to die. I know that if I go back to Lee, I'm going to continue with the way things are now and I wouldn't be able to get the help that I need, and I'm going to die. The day prior, I gave up control. When I'm in control, I'M not in control, but my eating disorder is. I can't do it anymore; I don't want to do it anymore. Because I never eat and fuel myself, I never have energy and I've become incredibly bitter, selfish, and moody; I hate it. I want to live my life serving God and I want to help people. I hate that I'm always so wrapped up in myself because I'm too tired or focused on food to care about others or my relationship with God. Throughout this break, I've prayed (not often, I'd like to add) that God would show his will for me and my life, especially regarding college. As I sat in my family room on Tuesday night thinking, I made a decision and I believe that God revealed it to me.
What is this big God-revealed decision, you ask?
I have decided that I will not be returning to Lee University in Cleveland, Tennessee for the Spring 2014 semester. I have decided to enroll in classes at the Ohio State University-Newark campus, while staying at home with my family so that they can take care of me. I'm going to start going to outpatient treatment like I used to go to at Nationwide Children's Hospital in Columbus. And you know what? I am so excited and couldn't be happier with the decision that I've made. My parents will be in control of my food (making my meals, choosing what I'll eat when we go out, helping me make decisions about food when I have to, etc.), so that I can be in control in things that are actually important in my life like my school work, my friendships, helping others in anyway that I can, and building up my relationship with God. When I made my decision on Tuesday night, I prayed that if my decision was God's will then to let doors be open so that it would be done, and they were. On Wednesday, I was scheduled to work at Bob Evans, but mom called OSU-N (who's first day of classes were that same day because the "polar vortex" caused them to cancel the two days prior), talked to a lady who said it would be impossible for me to enroll, was transferred to someone else who said that he could do it, and then she called to tell me that I needed to go to the campus down the street to enroll. I called off of work, met with the man (who is an absolute angel) that mom spoke with, signed some papers, took a math placement test, and scheduled my classes for the semester. Thus, I became a buckeye and I had my first day of classes yesterday. Oh yeah...doors swung.
Now, I'm going to go to school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, work on other days, go to treatment, and just start to live. I'm sure it will be hard, but I know that this is best for me. I have the support and help of my family, my friends, and God. I'm so excited to start eating and getting healthy again, getting back on my feet. It's amazing how one's ideals change over time: I've always looked at people who went to OSU-Newark as failures, drop-outs, or people without high ambition or goals in life. Now, I realize that it is just as good of a school as any of them out there, and is really smart in regards to finances. By no means do I want to stay in Newark the rest of my life, but for now I'm content. I want to transfer to OSU-Main Campus in Columbus, but for now, I want to really focus on getting better. Lee is a great school, and I'm happy for people who can find happiness there; I could not. I'll miss the showers, the coffee at Einstein Brothers, and the friends that I made and love. However, I believe that God is calling me to something else, and I'm going to try and follow that call as best as I can. I don't know why I was brought to Lee, just to be hospitalized in September, just to go back to Tennessee and go to treatment, just to hating my life down there, just to coming home...I can't figure it out, and that's okay. I'm putting my trust in God and believing that this is all happening for a reason.
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