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Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

They took the duty of taking out the trash away from me. I was purging when I would take the trash out for this eating disorder treatment center. I have no explanation for myself. I can say I was working really hard on the rituals, i.e. lowering the amount of salt I use, not cutting my food into the tiniest of pieces, not taking small bites, not using the salt to hide the tast of the food. I guess once I stopped doing that the purging urges took over and they are fierce. I would purge when I took the trash out, purge behind a bush or behind the swimming pool. No more. Part of me has to think of a new place where I can purge. Does it really come down to two parts: to engage in purging or the rituals. We signed a contract saying no e.d. behaviors and were doing well until we hit this snag. Now all motivation is lost and we just want to go home.

We know if we go home that we will just lose the weight but that’s what we’ve wanted all along. I really don’t think we can heal. Although I figuratively keep getting slapped in the face by a memory one of the eleven year olds had. Without sharing details of her trauma, there were always certain foods that couldn’t be eaten. Now we know why. So if we can hold on to that kernel of hope that we are solving the puzzle and we can deal with the rules around food then we can try to escape the solid death grip the eating disorder has on us.

It’s been a bad weekend overall. We did go out on the Saturday outing and that was good because all we wanted to do was stay back and sleep. We made coasters that have inspirational sayings on the (I love recovery quotes!) and let the littles find a stuffed little bear they could color with sharpies and embellish with shiny shapes. They had fun.

I’ve isolated all day. Just tired of playing this same old game. I got on the web site to my university to find out what is going on and when we register. I don’t know if we should try to go back for Spring or Summer. I can’t even complete my assignments given me in residential treatment, how am I going to finish assignments by professors? And for that matter, do we still want to teach or should we get our degree in English and then go for the Masters to prove ourselves wrong? People say there’s time to figure it out, but I hear the clock loudly ticking away my middle age.

Talk to me!