Balance in Bites

Whew. Ok, let’s backtrack.

Yesterday: Went to my intake assessment at the ED clinic. I walk in, and everything is beautiful. It’s like a freaking spa in there. How the hell does my cheap-ass health insurance cover this? I furtively look around for super skinny chicks that will obviously look at me with disdain, and I see none. I mentally facepalm/chastise myself, and head through the glass doors to the reception area. Homegirl at the counter gives me a clipboard and tells me to fill out the information. There’s a bunch of paper there, but they’re all the same, so I fill out the top two pages about my basic info and insurance, and hand it in. Homegirl comes back out and says “Ya gotta fill ‘em all out.” Me: “Oh, oh! Oh, ok, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize –“ and she walks away. Well, fine then, DON’T make me feel like I’m not a noob. Jerk. I look at the packet. There’s like 4905834905 pages to fill out, and they’re not all the same. D’oh.

I start to panic a bit. Every page has “Eating Disorder Clinic” written at the top (well, it says the actual name of the clinic, but seriously, everywhere I look, it’s like “Hey! Hey you! YOU! You have an eating disorder! Ha! You’re in an Eating Disorder clinic! You have disordered eating! Bahahaha!”) There are posters on the wall that are like “How to help a friend with an eating disorder,” or, “Welcome to our Eating Disorder Clinic!” or, “YOU’RE AT AN ED CLINIC, SUCKA!” Well, not the last one, but I’m looking all around and I’m like “Wait! But – but, not ME, *I* don’t have an eating disorder. Not ME. Do I? Oh, god, I totally do, don’t I.” And then proceeded to fill out the forms. While still somewhat panicking.

Then this nice woman named Emily comes over and talks with me about how she’s going to do an intake, and how she’ll ask me some questions, and I can tell her about myself and blah blah blah.

Highlights of our meeting together:

1. When she first meets with me, she asks me if I want something to drink. “We have water, or some Gatorade, if you’d like?” Me: Oh my god what’s the right answer if I pick water will she think I ONLY drink water? if I pick Gatorade that’s weird because I don’t like Gatorade all that much so I shouldn’t pick that just because oh crap oh crap um, um, “A glass of water would be great, thanks.” OH GOD SHE’S ANALYZING ME. RIGHT. NOW. *sweatsweatsweat*

The water was nice. It had ice in it and I was thirsty and it gave me something to do during the awkward silences that always happen when you’re talking to a therapist who’s writing notes about you. Besides, she totally wasn’t analyzing me.

2. For about 10 minutes, my stomach kept growling, like, very loudly. I’d be like “talk talk talk talk GRRRWOOOOWWWWLLLDLDLIRRRPOOLN” talk talk talk GRRRRREGGGEEEOWOOOOOLLLLLL.” It was SO EMBARRASING. I mean it was almost 7 pm, and I had had lunch at 12:15, and I was legitimately hungry, dammit. So I’m actually blushing at this point because it’s just so ridiculous, and while I’m in the middle of talking about, I don’t know, my family history of alcoholism, I just blurt out “I swear I had lunch! Like seriously, I really did, my stomach is just growling for some reason. Um. I’m kind of embarrassed about this, here.” And she looks at me and she’s like “Oh, I actually hadn’t noticed.” Me: “Oh – oh, *nervous giggle* oh well, um, ok, then, [internally: goddammit dammity awkward turtle fucker fuck *sticks foot in mouth*]” But she was actually very nice, and as I’m blushing my face off, she’s like “It’s ok, we’re talking about all these issues, and it’s normal to have your mind on something like that.” Me: “*nodnodnod, blushblushblush*”

3. There are magazines on the counter next to us. One is Highlights For Children, and the other is National Geographic. I’m puzzled for about .02 seconds and then realize that these are probably some of the only magazines that don’t feature models, food, health, weight, etc. Cool. (But then I think, what about all the pictures of the starving children in Africa? But then I think, who’s gonna be leafing through National Geographic while your assessment counselor is asking you if you eat oreos and pizza for breakfast? [the answer is yes, I totally have done that] I digress). I totally dig Highlights For Children, though. Remember the Goofus vs. Gallant comics? It’d be like, “Goofus comes across an old lady struggling with carrying groceries. He kicks her and runs away! Then he gets arrested.” And then next to it, “Gallant comes across and old lady struggling with carrying groceries. He helps her carry them into her home. Then he grows up to become the president!”

4. Sometimes my psychology major/history with therapy makes me want to rephrase everything she asks me.

Emily: “I see here that you run, could you tell me a little about that?”

Me: “Oh, if you’re asking me if I’m a compulsive over-exerciser as a means of purging after binges, then no, I’m not. Or were you getting at something else?”

(No, I don’t really answer questions like this.)

5. After finally getting to the end of My History With Food, I mention that I was on weight watchers for a while before these binges started. You know what she said?

“If I had a nickel for every time someone came in here with a story about how Weight Watchers triggered disordered eating for them, I’d be rich.”

o.O

Verrrrrry interesting.

I mean, she went on to say that WW is a very good diet for  LOT of people, just that there’s something about it that triggers… something, for some people. I don’t know if I totally buy it, but it was interesting to here her say that.

After my assessment was done, she pretty much told me I was a prime candidate for the program. High functioning, not overwhelmingly crazy/depressed, but has issues with food and wants to sort them all out.

Then she needed to weigh me. They weigh you once a week with your back to the scale. She brings me down this hallway and opens this little closet and there’s this scale in there, its like a doctor’s office scale, only digital, no back-and-forth-slidey weight things, and it’s like the only thing that could even fit in it, the closet was so small. She tells me to stand on the scale backwards, facing the wall, so I do. The wall is covered with all this cool artwork. “Numbers don’t define you” one said. Now, I’m not really into the whole “draw a picture, express yourself, come away cured” kind of thing, but it was pretty neat. It made me smile. =)

Right now, I’m thinking the program is going to be interesting. I’m nervous as all get out. Scratch that – I’m terrified. I’m going back there after work tonight and I have to EAT DINNER with everyone. I’m terrified I didn’t get my dinner right (you bring your own dinner, and it has to meet certain guidelines, and last night I’m like, tearing my hair out. “Does hummus count as a protein, or a fat? or both?! Does this wrap count as one grain or two?? Oh my god I don’t have a “small dessert”!!” More on that later). But I think it’s a good step that I’m trying this out. If it doesn’t work out, I’m not going to beat myself up about it – I’ll just walk away and feel good about the fact that I tried it, and then seek out some other options available to me. If it DOES work out, well then….. that would be pretty awesome.