I want to ask the following question about “eating disorders treatment”….

So they had put weight on me. The staff person patted me on the back, saying, “Good job, Julie.” 

I said, “But what about….”

The nurse interrupted me as usual, “Oh, my pager is going off. Gotta run!” She left me with the paperwork. It was my last day of eating disorders treatment and my question had yet to be answered. The question was never answered.

The nutritionist entered my room, handing me a copy of the meal plan.  I said, “You said you were going to answer my question about binge eating.”

She replied, “Ask your therapist after you get out.”

I realized she didn’t have any real answers for me. None of them did.

I took a cab to the bus stop. I felt awfully thirsty. I hated the way I had to fight to get enough water in that place. Usually, during the last days, I felt myself start to get dehydrated. Once, I begged to get out only because getting enough to drink was too much of a nuisance. I stopped at a store nearby.

I thought maybe I’d buy a few things to eat, too. I picked up an apple and a cucumber. Then, it started all over again. I purchased the largest slab of cheese I could find. I bought everything I could that was budget and that I could shove into my mouth. I wasn’t even home from “treatment” yet. Much of what I’d bought I ate in the back of that nearly empty bus.

No, this isn’t a true story. But is it your story?

I say it’s not a true story, but it almost is. When I was in MGH and they deprived me of water, I left that place a raving thirsty maniac. That time, in fact, I did binge eat on the way home.

I remember once arguing with a nurse who claimed she “knew all about the medications.” She claimed I was lying about how thirsty I was. I said I’d been on lithium and she had no clue what it was like to live in my body. She said, “Don’t insult my intelligence as a nurse.”

Wow, all I could think of at that moment was, “So she is saying that she, as nurse, knows better what it’s like to be me than I do.”

That was maybe a year before finally, someone decided to take me seriously. After 30 years, they FINALLY measured output. Yep, I was right all along.

Guess I am awfully glad I walked away from all that baloney. If you leave treatment and head straight for a binge, don’t you  think something went terribly wrong there?

Feedback and comments welcome!