Home.....Forever: Residential Treatment For Eating Disorders Discharge Anniversary Celebration

residential treatment, discharge anniversary celebration, eating disorder treatment, residential treatment facility, treatment anniversaries, coming home from treatment, recovery journey, my eating disorder story, anorexia story, outpatient treatment, anorexia recovery, eating disorder recovery

May 8, 2017

group therapy, treatment team, eating disorder recovery, residential treatment

Equine therapy, eating disorder recovery, residential treatment

I opened my eyes as the alarm went off that Monday morning, curled up on the little twin bed in the front bedroom of the PHP (partial hospitalization program) apartment. As the room came into focus, I remembered how special the day was. Today was THE day I would be discharged FOREVER from the eating disorder treatment facility!!!"Day 106," I wrote on my feelings check-in sheet for the day. I used every blank before the morning even got started. Excited, nervous, anxious, hopeful, emotional, giddy, guilty, amazed, elated, fearful, surprised, eager, vulnerable.... They swirled around within me like nothing I'd ever experienced before.Holy cow - I was going HOME today!!! I did it. God did it! What seemed absolutely impossible to me in the beginning, what I just knew I'd never survive, the Lord had carried me through. And today, my husband would pick me up after closing and drive me back to my precious children, away from treatment forever. We would be a complete family again. It seemed surreal that it was actually happening!!! The day was finally here!!!Hands down, the greatest thrill of anticipation in my heart was to be reunited with my family. I mean, I really couldn't even begin to describe what it was like to know I would be at home that very day with the family from which I'd been separated for 106 days, for less than admirable reasons. Are there even words for that? But it was happening in a matter of hours!!!There were the little things that made me happy to be discharged as well. I could dispense my own medication - take an Advil when I needed one and take my night meds when I was ready to take them, without a nurse. Enjoy a Cherry Coke Zero. Not have to count in the bathroom or sing in the shower unless I wanted to. No table rules. PHP had already provided a few freedoms from those things in the evenings in addition to being able to choose our own food, shave, take a bath, leave the house.... But this would be total freedom from all the rules, all day. I could be a grownup again!But I was also trying hard to manage some more difficult feelings. The what if's were creeping in. With all of that freedom comes great responsibility. What if I'm not truly ready? What if I go back to old behaviors? What if I get in the way of my family? What if I disappoint them? What if there's no place for me in my former roles?But I stopped them quickly. I'd waited too long for this day. I'd thought it would never come. And here it was. I knew God would continue to give me what I needed at home, just as He'd done here at treatment.I got myself ready for the day and sat down to have my last quiet time with Jesus while here as inpatient. Goodness, these times had been so sweet. My Bible margins were filled with things God had shown me during my days in treatment. I knew I would continue to have daily time with Him, but I also knew it would be a little different. And there was just a tinge of sadness in my heart about that.The TA picked us up and drove us to the treatment facility. The residential girls all congratulated me as I walked through the door. It still felt so surreal.These were my last "everythings" at treatment. My last daily weigh in, vitals, breakfast, processing, opening, group therapy, individual sessions, lunch, yoga lesson (!!ha!!), afternoon group therapies, snack, closing... And that realization brought amazement and great joy.But there was also a little check within me at that thought. This had been my life every day, all day, over the last several months. It was my routine. My normal. A LOT of support. What if.... No, not gonna go there.I don't remember a lot of other specifics throughout the day. I strongly remember a lot of emotions. I cried SO HARD that day. Ugly cried, several times. Which sounds ridiculous, I know! I was going home, for crying out loud!!Even though I sobbed a lot through the day, it didn't change the fact that I was excited to go home. The emotions came from the understanding that God had used this place - these people - to save my life. And today I was saying goodbye to them, forever.It's just a lot to process. These people with whom I'd shared the very darkest places of my soul would just be a memory after today. These people who had sat on the back porch with me many days just so I didn't have to cry alone - even well after time for them to go home for the day - would not be a part of my life anymore. This quiet place where the Lord had revealed some of the greatest truths of His Word to me would be hours away, likely never to be seen again. Over 40 hours per week of constant, professional support and accountability would change to about 5 hours per week. Yep, a lot to process.I'll never forget my final individual sessions with Mrs. Daugette, Ms. Freeman, and Mrs. Gamin. The things that they shared with me touched a place deep in my heart. I didn't feel deserving at all of the things that they said, but my goodness, it felt good to hear them. I couldn't understand how these women could love me and have such positive things to say about me after all they knew about me and how tirelessly they'd continued to pour into me, even on my most horrible of days. But I felt so loved and so special. I miss these ladies every day and pray they always know how greatly God used them in my life.And the residents, group therapists, and TA's were just as sweet. What they saw in me must have been Jesus, because they weren't describing me. And I'm grateful for that.My husband was going to pick me up at the apartment. I kept looking around the house, wanting to get one more look at everything, as if I hadn't been staring at those walls for months. Still, everything just seemed extremely sentimental to me, from the place I always sat for group therapy to the schedule board I'd reorganized while I was there to the lawn chairs outside where I would sit and pour my heart out to God to the table where I'd shed many a tear. I wanted to burn it in my memory. All of it.As I gathered my things and headed out the door, one last time, I could hardly see to walk through my tears. I stopped to hug everyone one last time.I was smiling, but crying hard. You see, I knew in my heart this was the very last time I'd ever be in residential treatment. I knew I had to do this recovery thing. There would not be a Take III. And something about that realization brought so much joy all mixed together with extreme gratefulness and love and appreciation and relief and fear....MANY overwhelming emotions. But they were good and necessary tears.As the car headed down that long driveway one last time to take me back to the apartment, I looked out the back window through my tears and thanked God for His goodness. For taking the hardest thing I'd ever had to do in my life and turning it into a very good thing. And I thanked Him that it was over - REALLY OVER! - and for all the days He'd carried me through when I just couldn't do it anymore. And I also thanked Him that within the hour, my husband would be holding me tight and wouldn't have to let me go.And when my husband pulled up to my apartment, I had all my stuff down on the curb, waiting for him. He'd never looked so good. And his hug was better than the strongest medicine I'd ever taken. And he took me HOME.I'll never forget walking into my new home that night. All four children greeted me at the door. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. And I loved that the little ones didn't want to let me go, because I didn't want to let them go, either. I was home. For good.I am honestly so shocked that today marks a full year since I've been home. It has flown by! A lot of life has happened. In under three weeks of being home, we unpacked the whole house, furnished some rooms, Ethan graduated, we hosted a graduation party, had family in from out of town, Ethan wrecked a motorcycle and had to have surgery, and I don't think it's slowed down since.And all my fears about coming home? Some of them came to fruition. Some things I didn't even know to worry about became reality as well.A lot of good has happened, too. We've had some wonderful celebrations, family trips, restoration, healing....Has recovery been perfect? Far from it. If you've been reading my posts, you know that all too well.Am I proud of that. No.But I'm still home, I'm still fighting, I'm still maintaining, and I'm much further down the road of recovery than I've ever been before.I thought I would be in such a different place by this time, this year. I have a lot of regrets. I wish I wasn't so stubborn. I wish I could learn things faster. And I'm sure my treatment team wishes the same. I'll admit, I've been a little discouraged about it. Okay, a lot.But here's what I know and what I want to hold onto today.I am ever so thankful for God's grace - more and more every day. I'm thankful for Jesus and His sufficiency. I'm grateful for His unconditional love and that I can rest in His sovereignty. I love that He is using this difficult time to teach me and make me more like Him.I'll trust His timing. I believe with all my heart that full recovery is coming one day soon. I trust that there are still things I need to learn in this valley. And one day, soon, this will all be in the past.One year ago today. Mercy. I'm praying that May 8, 2019 finds me in a place of full recovery and that God will continue to use all of this to help others who are struggling, to bring glory to Himself.Thank you, family, home treatment team, and friends for not giving up on me. Thank you, God, for being so faithful.If you'd like to read more about my eating disorder story, please begin here.