I recently left a treatment facility (hence the extreme lack of p;osts), and experienced one of the most frustrating things — I felt like I was losing everything, even though logically I knew that I was gaining the rest of my life.
Losses:
- Good friendships with other patients
- Meaningful relationships with my treatment team and other staff
- 24/7 support and company
- Safety, familiarity, routine, and simplicity
- Eating disordered behaviors
- Other self-destructive behaviors
- Being taken care of and always told that I was worth-it
Gains:
- Going home to my husband and dogs
- Communication with meaningful friendships in the “real world”
- All the things in the future — traveling, having kids, furnishing my house…. (not in that order)
- Permanent support and care taking from my husband and friends — support that doesn’t require that I be sick
- Driving. Shopping. Target and Starbucks. Walking around the rest of the world.
- Being able to use scissors all by myself, curl my hair if I want, toast my OWN bagel… you know what I mean.
- A life that doesn’t have to be consumed by the eating disorder. A chance to choose to do things differently.
I discharged because I had made a lot of progress and wanted so much more out of my life. In the moment though, all that I could feel was loss. Sure, I was excited to go home and see everyone, to cut my banana into more than 6 pieces without it being a food ritual, to actually go other places in the world… but regardless, I really hate endings. In a very real way, exiting treatment is an ending. Miserable and disordered as your life may have been going into treatment, it was a life that you knew well and relied on. All those disordered behaviors and coping skills that helped you survive — you can’t take them with you. You feel like you’re losing the eating disorder (now that you’re eating normally), other self-destructive behaviors (self harm, over-exercising, etc), and part of yourself (especially if you’re now on meds and feel better).
As if that weren’t enough, you’re losing the relationships with people who helped you conquer so many negative thoughts and support you through the toughest nights. Personally, I made more progress this last time in treatment than I have in the last 11 years… somewhat due to me (I will give myself credit for that), but also largely because I had a great treatment team that knew what to do with me and never hesitated to push me. Why would I want to say goodbye to them?
You enter treatment because your life isn’t working (whether or not you think it’s your choice to be in treatment). The intent is to gain something… to get back to life, to have a future, to not die… and you know that treatment requires sacrifices, like taking time off of school/work, traveling, leaving your family, and often paying for a lot of it. But… walking out of there, not only do you feel those losses, but you feel the loss of the ED, the loss of the relationships you made while in treatment, and some loss of the treatment world where you can be upset anything and it matters (like strawberry yogurt when you wanted vanilla, for example).
I’m not saying it’s not all worth it — because it’s the rest of your life (and those around you who’s life you are a part of) that we’re talking about, and that certainly is worth it. It’s just hard to leave so much behind and make those sacrifices. I’m trying to look at it as an investment. All of the energy in treatment and hurt I’ve experienced leaving will pay off someday.
I relate to so much of this post. I recently ended treatment and I am convinced that leaving treatment is one of the hardest “endings” to get through. There are always positives to leaving (assuming you’re leaving under the right circumstances), but treatment relationships are really special, you know?
And so I don’t seem too lurk-y, I’m Gina. Glad to hear you’re back.
Hi Gina!
Glad that you’re still reading after my extended “sabbatical.”
I really agree with you about treatment relationships being special. You can know all about someone’s life, but have no clue what her last name is. I remember going to college and feeling like I was forming all these relationships — but that they were shallow in comparison. I think it just took a lot longer for me to connect with people in a non-treatment environment and form those close relationships… since you don’t have therapy and all your deep-dark-issues being thrown at you every day.
Just [another] thought…
grey
I so get this post. I actually spent this past weekend with treatment friends as they were getting ready to discharge and go back home. I’m lucky in that I will get a chance to go back and see my treatment team (assuming I am doing well with my meal plan)after I have be out for three months. It’s great incentive to do well, plus I really want to show them that all of their efforts were worth it, that I am on my way to recovery.
It’s ironic that the only way to really click with your treatment team is to develop an attachment to them, but it’s that very attachment that makes leaving treatment so difficult.
I’m glad you’re back from treatment and I’m looking forward to your posts about life post treatment.
t’s ironic that the only way to really click with your treatment team is to develop an attachment to them, but it’s that very attachment that makes leaving treatment so difficult.
YES, EXACTLY. If you don’t go in to treatment with attachment / abandonment issues, you will definitely leave with some
Okay, kidding, but that is the frustrating irony of it all…. and the reason that I’ve avoided treatment in the past. Forming a temporary, one-way relationship with someone who you learn to care about a lot and rely on during tough times, only to have them leave your life a few months later… it’s just not an attractive offer.
But, at the same time…. where else do you learn to form close relationships? I know I had to (and still have to) learn that I can be vulnerable and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Vulnerability is critical for connection. I couldn’t just try that out in my “real” life — that was too scary. But, in a way, I “practiced” forming these special relationships in treatment. So I just have to keep telling myself that if I can do it in residential, I can do it in the outside world…..
grey
I can definitely relate to certain aspects of this post. I have been going in and out of intensive treatment for the past few years, and each time I have had to seek inpatient care, it is always brought up that I should try somewhere new as clearly the treatment program I have been in has not “clicked” in a way that keeps me out of the hospital for long. However, over the course of these few years, I have developed good relationships with the treatment team and staff, and that makes me hesitant to try somewhere new. It took me long enough to open up with these people…the idea of doing it all again is kind of overwhelming. There is also some level of comfort in knowing what to expect and knowing there are people there who “get you” when you are going through the hell that is inpatient/residential treatment.
I think what makes it especially hard is that usually when you are discharged from intensive treatment, you are not supposed to go back to work/school right away, as you are still supposed to be working on your recovery. So, now you have just left a world where everything is super structured, to a world where you have plenty of free time. Obviously, some of that time is spent (hopefully) continuing with some form of treatment, but it’s hard to work on rebuilding relationships that suffered before treatment when you don’t have a lot of other things going on in life. It’s a weird catch-22.
BL.
I think we’re both finding that we need to create structure outside of treatment before going back to work / school. It’s tough… especially when it’s enough of a struggle just to get yourself through the day without acting on symptoms.
Question for you — do you self-sabotage so that either:
a) you have to stay in treatment longer and procrastinate losing those relationships
b) it doesn’t hurt as much when you leave because you’re frustrated with the program, anyway
Just curious….
–grey
It definitely is tough to find a good balance between treatment and other activities in that interim between returning to full out “life” and getting out of intensive treatment. As for your question, I don’t think it’s either of those actually. At least not consciously. I have never thought “if I do poorly I will have to go back to treatment/stay longer and then not lose these relationships.” I have also never thought (b) because even though I know it won’t hurt as much if I am frustrated, I don’t want to create bad blood.
I think it’s more that when things start going south, the threat of having to step up treatment isn’t as much of a deterrent because of those relationships. Being inpatient is hell, but is made a little easier by those relationships. So, I think “ok, so I have to go back to treatment…that sucks but I’ll deal.” However, recently I have had enough experiences where I think I can do intensive treatment without giving up things in my life, like school, and then I end up having to give that up. So, now the negatives really outweigh the positives and that is helping me continue to move forward.
Congrats on your treatment. I’ve never been in treatment, besides therapy, so I have a bond with my therapist and the one I worked with while she was on maternity leave, but I’m sure it’s not like it is when you’re IP. So, what I got out of this post was, “holy crap, what if I need more than just therapy to actually get my life to where it should be??” I’m not unhealthy, physically, so I don’t really need to go somewhere, but what if I can’t change the mental aspects? I think the problem might be that I don’t want to, but even if I did want to, I don’t think I could.
PTC,
I think it’s easy to minimize and rationalize your current situation — at least that has always been the case with me, and a lot of the eating disorder friends that I’ve met. It’s always “I’m not sick enough, I’m not unhealthy, I don’t need more treatment,” etc. I bet you anything that if you drew a line right now, like “if I am only eating xxx calories a day then I’ll need more help” or “if my ED is causing me to not be able to do my job, then I need treatment,” etc, that you’ll cross that line and just create a NEW one.
Just FYI (note: remember I’m not a professional), one of the criteria for increased level of care is inability to make progress at the current level of care (outpatient for you). It’s something to talk to your therapist about I think… that you don’t feel like your mindset is changing at all and you’re stuck (I’ve had this conversation a hundred times). Whether or not you are “unhealthy, physically” being so stuck in your head and in the disorder keeps you from living your life.
Just a few thoughts that came to mind… take care.
–grey
Thanks Grey.