Part of any program, is a mandatory family meeting held usually every second week, with the counselor, or in this case, counselors involved with your child. Family can mean anything really, but on this journey, it’s just me and my daughter. Basically we go to a meeting, in a sound proof room. We strategically set up enough of the many chairs in the room that everyone has a seat in close proximity, but so that no one really has to look at anyone in the eye, except the main counselor or leader. You know that saying, “Never look a gorilla straight in the eye”? Well, there’s a reason for that. We’re given a topic ahead of time, so each person has time to think, and to try and avoid any big surprises – but there’s always a surprise. Typically I sit, look calm, try to stay comfortable and not look awkward, and keep my expressions neutral so not to reveal what I’m really thinking as I listen to the answers.
“So let’s start by asking the regular questions, are you ready?”
“Yup”.
“So. How’s your mood?”
“Same.”
“yup, seems pretty good to me. I’d agree”.
“And sleep. How’s that going for you. Are you sleeping ok?”
“Yup. Pretty much.”
“If she get’s to bed. Getting to bed is impossible”
“Ok. Thoughts about suicide?”
“About the same.”
“So…..3 or 4?”
“Nah, probably 4 or 5?”
“Wait, that’s not the same. Last time it was 3 or 4, not 4 or 5. Really?”
“Ok, how about your eating? Are you eating?”
“I’m trying. If I can get the food to my mouth, and actually in my mouth, I realize I’m kind of hungry, but I can’t handle the thought of food otherwise. Sometimes I actually feel sick, and then I force myself to eat something. I eat fruit. And I hold my breath while I eat other stuff.”
“Why do you hold your breath?”
“So I don’t have to think about it being in my mouth. I don’t want to taste it – it grosses me out.”
” I knew it! I knew it! One day after our spot at the eating disorder program expires. I knew it. I thought I noticed changes again……………i feel fat.”
“How about self harm? I know your mom knows you self-harmed last night.”
“Yup”
“And when did that happen?”
“During the night”
“And what did you use?”
“An old razor”
“Really? Where is she getting this stuff? That’s it – I’m searching the room. Next time she’s out. I’m going through every inch. She’s probably booby trapped everything…”
“Where did you get the razor? Did you wake up, see it and use it, or did you wake up and decide to self harm, so look for something to use?”
“I woke up and decided. I knew I had it in a junk drawer.”
“She doesn’t have a junk drawer. She re-cleans her room every week.”
“Can you tell your mom where you cut?”
“Always the same. Always on the legs.”
“NO! Why does she have to know?”
“She’s covering her chest. She carved her chest. She’s covering it while she answers the question. Dear God, this time it was her chest.”
“Ok. You don’t have to say. We just thought…..”
“No.”
“It’s hot in here. I need to take my shoes off. I wonder if they’d notice. I’m taking my shoes off. Be discreet. They’ll never know. I need water.”
No matter how many check in’s we have, for some reason, I always expect the answers to be the same as the ones in my head, and I’m always surprised on at least one of the answers when it’s not. I have gut instincts, but it’s gotten to the point where I’m so tired I don’t even know what is paranoia, and what I really need to step back and listen to. I’m constantly at war with myself and it’s exhausting.
For now? Trust the programming, keep communication channels open, stay close to the gorilla and watch carefully, and earn trust just a little at a time. At some point……well, we will get past this.
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