All the things

Standard

For some reason, when my body decides to get sick, it goes all out. Right now, both my ears have inner and outer (thanks new piercings) ear infections and I have stitches on my face. So right now my body and I are not best friends, especially my head. 🙂 

I know that this may be annoying to hear, but today, once again was not a good day. Good news, most of it wasn’t the ED, most of it was with the way Renfrew has been treating me. 

I do have an issue with being assertive and many people in my life haven’t validated me. And that’s okay, I mean that happens to everyone but there are some people that you expect to validate what you have to say and not make you feel small. Every since I have been to Renfrew, I feel like they have constantly belittled me and focused more on other people than me. South Park is a very wealthy and conservative part of Charlotte and normally, I would just play along with that to be polite. But when my family is paying $127 a day and I am here to recover, hell yeah I am going to be myself, and hell yeah I am going to say what I feel. Everyone else does, everyone else gets completely validated. Not this bitch. I have been told that I can’t recover because I am atheist, it was insinuated that I was not “sad enough” about all the shit that I happened to me last year because I wasn’t crying when I was talking about it, I have mentioned things in community that has been completely shut down even though this bitch has been the only person to lend my fucking hand out to help others and ask what I can do to help them. No one has asked to help me. And it’s like the whole staff is so concerned about making the other girls comfortable and not me and I am pissed off. And it’s frustrating, so when I got shot down again during community, I just spent the rest of the day crying. How can I think that I am important or worth anything if the people who are supposed to help me the most don’t like me? I swear, I don’t understand how a place that is supposed to make you better has made me more depressed than I ever have before and made me more afraid of food, more afraid of being myself and my anxiety is ridiculous. This place isn’t helping me right now at all. 

It’s so annoying. 

During Art therapy, we had to write a Christmas card about what we wanted for recovery and what a perfect Christmas looks like. Being pissed off, I immediately raised my hand and told them that I don’t believe in the holiday and my dream would be to not celebrate it. She said I still had to do it, so I wrote a little poem. It isn’t finished but it made me feel better

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a person was caring, not even a mouse

In my PJs, slippers and unbrushed hair

So happy that I have a Christmas where I don’t have to care

 

I have decided that this day will be just Netflix and bed

Along with a pill of biographies that need to be read

There are no parties filled with people I want to slap

Just me, no Jesus and Xanax to give me the joy of a nap

 

When suddenly, my phone rang with such a clatter

My mom sent me a text and I wondered what was the matter

“Sarah” she wrote “Our family is finally altogether”

“Where are you? Are you in because of bad weather?”

 

I laughed to myself, and smiled with glee

“Mother I do not like the fattening food or your Jesus, you see”

“I do not want to celebrate this holiday anymore

A tale of a so called virgin who was most likely a lying whore”

 

“I am not pagan, Christian, Mormon or a Jew

So I don’t want to waste my time celebrating a holiday with you”

It is not that I don’t love them, truly it is not

I just don’t want to eat all the food that everyone brought

 

She told me “Oh, I completely understand”

So now the idea of a Christmas to myself seemed even more grand

I smiled know there would be not meat, no casseroles, no cake

Just for this day, I don’t want food that is processed and unbelievable fake

 

As I go through my television choices, I roll my eyes

This bullshit of Christmas leads to nothing but demise

Finally a year with no Santa or elves

This year, I will get drunk by stealing alcohol from the shelves

Like I said, it isn’t finished but it was a nice fuck you to all of them. Now that I am writing about it I am so pissed. It’s so annoying that I am here to get treatment and I am not being validated, and when I am at school I am getting validated but I am not getting the treatment I need. I feel completely doomed. 

I am not having a good body image day, I had a a major fear food and I am just frustrated and taking it out on me. 

I used to like writing this and I would look forward to it, but today I just wanted a hug from one of you. For some people who have this blog address, I don’t know when I will see you again and for some I know that it’ll be a few weeks but I miss you dearly. I selfishly wish that you all

could be here with me for every meal but I know that this is something I have to do on my own. It sucks but I wouldn’t be in treatment if it wasn’t for people like you. Today during the meal when we had to write our coping mechanism and I put “I will get through this meal knowing that I have support, knowing that I have to do this to see my support again and knowing how there are some people in the world that think I can do this”

Thank you all again for all your support.  

Sarah 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

One response »

  1. Virtual hug…..your recovery belongs to you. I wish you were getting more validation there, but remember, recovery isn’t theirs to give. Renfrew is a means to an end. I’m really sorry you’re not getting the respect you deserve, but if your validation can come from a distance, you got it!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s