I’m in a weird place this morning. Last night was confusing as hell. I went through about twenty different emotions in the span of like two hours. And now I’m just exhausted, trying to make sense of it all in the aftermath.
I’ve been trying to figure things out with my parents. They want me to go back to St. Louis, to do IOP with a completely different, completely new center. I’d have to start over with a team I don’t know and haven’t come to trust. Yeah. Not doing that one.
I’ve been trying to tell them that in the end, this is my decision, and what I have decided is that I’m not going back to St. Louis. I am not going back to the place where all of my issues started, where I learned all of my maladaptive behaviors, where there is the risk that my mind is just going to fall along old ruts, back into old patterns. I am not going back to the place where scars would be ripped open and wounds that haven’t even finished scabbing over yet would be retorn.
A few days ago I sent my parents an email telling them this. I put forth my reasons why I don’t want to go back, told my parents what I needed and what I wanted from them, and put out what I was willing to do in return as a compromise. And then I’ve been sitting and churning and getting all anxious while I waited for a response over the past few days. Well, last night I finally got one. And it was ambiguous and frustrating as hell. So, I called my mother and asked for clarification. Despite the fact that we had talked some on the phone, and I had made it very clear that my email was saying that I would consider returning to St. Louis only after I finished treatment, she told me that her hope was that I would return to St. Louis to do IOP. Well, I got mad. We talked a bit more, nothing got better, and I hung up feeling violated and unheard.
Begin whirlwind. There was coffee and refusing to eat dinner and stress-induced acid reflux and frustration and desperation and purging and guilt and lack of guilt and more frustration and talking again and changes and eating dinner and freaking out and almost purging again except I got caught by my roommate on my way to the bathroom and hope and understanding and worry and determination and regret – over many and contradicting things – and then just being tired, so tired, from it all. I fell asleep on the couch last night.
Yup. It’s been a confusing twelve hours. I’m not sure where I’m left, after all of this. But I figured instead of checking out, it might be a good move to start the day by checking in.
So. Good morning world.