Fuck. I think I overate at Breakfast this morning, but I’m not sure.
I am sitting up in bed, feeling pleasantly full, but worried about what I consumed. I ate my two bowls of oatmeal with vanilla soy milk, and made my cup of tea. I wanted an Extra too, but FuBu and I finished the granola yesterday, so I did the same thing that I did last night - I crushed up a granola bar and a Nutrigrain bar and dumped them in my bowl, added a sliced up banana, and covered the mix in soy milk.
It was so delicious, and afterwards I happily drank my tea. But now I keep wondering, How many calories did I just consume?!?!
Or I guess I’m not thinking that. But somebody is.
Ugh. Not having a good day today. I guess it had to happen eventually - I am far too angry a girl to just keep smiling and laughing through something this fucking hard. I guess I thought it would take a lot more than this to make me snap, though.
Where should I start? How bout after breakfast this morning. I came back and wrote those few sparse lines up there, before giving up and just going back to sleep.
Day Program woke me up, right at 10:10.
“Kage, it’s Snack Time,” she said, interrupting my dreams. “Kage. Kage!”
“Morning Snack,” she smiled down at me.
“Oh,” I said, and rolled reluctantly out of bed and onto the floor. I was really tired for some reason, and my dream had been so very vivid, so very real.
Though of course, I can’t remember anything about it now.
I looked up and saw that there were two girls waiting to use the bathroom before they went to Snack, so I took advantage of the time to get dressed.
I waited for Auschwitz to finish in the bathroom, and then she waited for me so we could walk to Group together. We were a few minutes late, but since they were still doing the bathrooms when I got up, I figured it was their fault, not ours.
NEVER figure, nigger!
We got into the room at quarter past ten. My Snack this morning was yogurt and a banana, so I immediately asked Simone, the nurse, to call for my Lactaid. I sat down and peeled the lids off my two yogurts, and started chopping up my banana while I waited for my meds.
When the pills still hadn’t shown up a few minutes later, I decided I had better get eating, or I would run out of time. The nurses must just be busy. I’ll just have to take them whenever they get here.
Eventually, I had finished both yogurts and had started on my tea, still with no sign of my Lactaid.
And then my tea was done, and Snack Time was over, and I still hadn’t had my pills.
This is gonna be fun, I thought. I thought I was having painful gas and diarrhea before?
Simone sent me to the nurses station after Snack to grab them, but I was already kinda pissed. They were the ones who were making me eat all these different foods, I fumed, things that I am not comfortable eating - can’t they at least bring me my fucking Lactaid?
I was unable to shake my shirty mood for the rest of the morning. Simone gave me a chance to express my opinion directly after Morning Snack, and though it felt good getting to say my piece, we didn’t actually resolve anything.
“What if each day, you checked your menu, and then got your Lactaid pills before each meal that has dairy?” Simone suggested.
“Because that will eat into my alloted time,” I complained. “I don’t want to lose out on time I need to finish my food.”
“Okay,” she said, and spread her hands open helplessly.
“Why can’t we just leave them in here? That’s what they said they were going to do, and then the next day they were back behind the nurses station.”
“Oh, really? That’s odd,” Simone said, in a tone that was clearly meant to be soothing-to-the-nutter-who-is-prolly-about-to-freak.
“Mmmm,” I, the-nutter-about-to-freak, agreed, mimicking her soothing tone. “Well, they’re not a narcotic, and I’m not trying to snort lines of them off the kitchen table. I just need them to eat dairy.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay, I will look into it for you, ok?”
“Fine,” I sighed.
Shatty mood still well entrenched, Lunch came round too soon for me, since I was full of gas and diarrhea from the um, DAIRY?
As soon as I walked in the room and lifted my plate cover, Grave (wretched cow) stopped me.
“Kage, that’s not your lunch,” she said, as I surveyed the vegetarian meal of rice, diced carrots, and corn-mush-goo before me.
“Really?” I asked. “It says it is.” I pointed to my name beside the plate.
“Yes, I know what it says, but you are having the tuna salad sandwich today.”
“Okay, great. Where is it?”
“Someone’s just gone down to get it,” she said over her shoulder, as she sorted out the condiments.
Let me guess, I thought. I get to wait?
“But I want you to eat the diced carrots off that plate,” she said, still busy at the counter.
“Okay,” I pulled out my chair and took the cover off my food again.
“No, you have to scoop them off,” she said, and handed me a plastic plate. “You can’t eat the other stuff.”
“Why don’t I just eat this for lunch?” I asked, exasperated.
“Because that’s not what you put on your menu,” Grave (wretched cow) said firmly.
“Fine, whatever,” I muttered, and duly began scooping the diced carrots onto my plastic plate.
"Make sure you don't get any of the other foods on there," she said, when a single fucking grain of rice that was stuck to a piece of carrot made it's way onto my plate.
God, grant me the fucking serenity...
I ate the carrots cold, while I waited for my tuna salad sandwich. Eventually it made it’s way into the Group room, but I didn’t rush through it. My tummy was way too sore to add an Extra to lunch today. The diced carrots and sandwich would be more than enough.
When my food was finished, I got up to make my cup of tea, and sat back down to spoon feed myself.
A couple of gulps in, Grave (wretched cow) stopped me. “No drinking your tea with a spoon,” she said.
What the fuck?! thought I. “You just told us yesterday that we could,” I said frustratedly, and threw my spoon onto the table with a loud clatter. “You know, cuz our tea is HOT?”
“Then let it cool down before you drink it,” she replied, smoothly averting the issue of what she may/may not have said yesterday.
I slammed my tea down on the table with a splash. “Fine.”
I cannot tell you now what made me so fucking angry at that moment, but I just lost my shit. I sat there at the table for the remainder of Lunch time, with my arms folded across my chest and tears streaming down my face.
I have no idea why. It was just a cup of fecking tea.
Then I saw FuBu sip her tea from her spoon, and I fucking lost it.
“No drinking tea with your spoon!” I barked at her.
She looked up in surprise.
“That’s true,” said Grave (wretched cow), and FuBu turned to me with a look of shock.
“Okay, but did you have to tell me like that?” she asked, and I immediately felt ashamed of myself. What was I, fucking twelve?
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I sighed. FuBu turned away from me, saying nothing.
When lunch was over, Grave (wretched cow) asked me to stay behind and speak with her. Big surprise.
I lost it on her, too, for the most trivial things.
“...it’s a cup of fucking tea...FuBu sips hers too...been here NINE DAYS and you said yesterday it was ok...you make me eat this stuff...want my fucking Lactaid!” On and on I went.
Though somewhere in the middle of my rant, I did apologize to her.
“I’m sorry for being rude to you, Grave, you wretched cow, and I don’t know why I’m yelling at you, but I am just so fucking frustrated...”
At one point, Sweet Aussie Sue came in to the room to check on us. She'd been watching us from the counselor's room, through the two-way mirrored window. I got the very strong feeling that she was checking to make sure Grave (wretched cow) wasn’t in any physical danger.
Finally, I just ran out of steam, and stopped yelling.
Grace (wretched cow) gave me a few moments to compose myself. “Do you think you can join the Group this afternoon?” she asked softly.
“Yes!” I rolled my eyes. "I’m not going to hurt anyone, I’m just frustrated.”
She acknowledged that yes, indeed I was, then opened the door and let the other girls come back in for Group.
I had actually really been looking forward to this Group, for the past two days. It was all about music - we each had to come up with two songs we liked, that we found inspiring or motivational in some way.
The first song I wanted to use just snuck up on me on Monday night, when I was sitting up in bed, writing. The song "Eulogy" (by Tool) came through my earbuds, and as I listened to their lyrics, I knew it was the song I wanted to use. I heard most of the lyrics in the song as if they were spoken by me, if I were giving the eulogy at Ed’s funeral - except that my spunky little Eating Disorder manages to pop out of the coffin and spew a few toxic lines back at me.
I typed up the lyrics and marked out the difference between our two voices, so the girls could see what I was trying to get at. The regular text is me, the bold is Ed.
Here it is.
(Ed’s) Eulogy ~ Tool
He had a lot to say.
He had a lot of nothing to say.
We'll miss him.
So long. We wish you well.
You told us how you weren't afraid to die.
Well then, so long.
Or feel too down.
Not all martyrs see divinity.
But at least you tried.
Standing above the crowd,
He had a voice that was strong and loud.
We'll miss him.
Ranting and pointing his finger
At everything but his heart. We'll miss him.
No way to recall
What it was that you had said to me,
Like I care at all.
So loud. You sure could yell.
You took a stand on every little thing
And so loud.
Standing above the crowd,
He had a voice so strong and loud and I
Swallowed his facade cuz I'm so
Eager to identify with
Someone above the ground,
Someone who seemed to feel the same,
Someone prepared to lead the way, with
Someone who would die for me.
Will you? Will you now?
Would you die for me? Don't you fucking lie.
Don't you step out of line. Don't you fucking lie.
You've claimed all this time that you would die for me. Why, then, are you so surprised, to hear your own eulogy?
You had a lot to say. You had a lot of nothing to say.
Come down. Get off your fucking cross. We need the fucking space to nail the next fool up.
To ascend you must die.
You must be crucified
For your sins and your lies
The other song I chose was Please by Nine Inch Nails, the chorus of which is tattooed around my wrist.
I had a little trouble getting into the Group, because of my shatty mood, but the music eventually talked me down. Sweetface chose “Feeling Good” by Muse (I have the Michael Buble version, which I love) and “All Yours”, a new one by Metric. Day Program’s first song was from the musical “The Lion King”, which was about a guy asking God to find him; the second song was called “Rebirth”, by a band called Skillet. Auschwitz only did one song, and it was by a band called The Kings, though I can’t remember the title of it now.
Mine was by far the angriest music, but whatever.
When Group was over, I had just under an hour to kill until Snack Time. I came back to the dorm to write and wait for M, who was coming in the afternoon today, because he has band practice tonight.
I did well at Afternoon Snack today, just ate my banana and Rice Krispie square, then had my cup of tea - no Extras.
Then it was over, and M was here!
We went to sit outside the dorm room on the crappy red chairs, so we could talk privately for a bit.
M was disappointed about Baby, who was supposed to come home from Ontario tonight. He was supposed to get her for the rest of the week, but now he wasn’t.
“Why not?” I asked. “What happened?”
“They missed their flight,” he sighed.
“You’re kidding,” I snorted. Stupid fucking whore.
“Yeah, and I have those tickets for Yo Gabba Gabba tomorrow night,” he said. “Now we can’t go.”
“What did she have to say for herself?” I demanded.
“She told me that I’m lucky she’s bringing Baby home at all,” he said miserably.
“WHAT? She has a fiancee here, too!”
“No, they broke up,” he told me, and my eyebrows shot up.
FUCKITY. FUCKING. FUCK!!!!
Hell hath no fury like our Baby Momma scorned and bored - she was ten times more unbearable when she was single, as she expected M to step in and do fucking everything for her, once again.
You can’t take this on right now, I thought to myself. You’re sick, hello? That woman is a trigger for you, and you know it. Now let it go.
In my mind, I threw my hands up in surrender.
No fucking problem.
And somehow, it really wasn’t. I just didn’t pick it up and run with it - I walked away instead.
Not that I want to leave M to deal with everything on his own; but my hysteria wouldn’t help matters, and right now, I haven’t really much else to offer.
“So how was your day?” M asked me.
“God, it’s been so hard,” I moaned, and proceeded to tell him in great detail every wrong that had been slung upon my slender shoulders since this morning.
But as I relayed each thing that upset me, I became more and more embarrassed about my behavior. I yelled at someone about a cup of TEA? I wondered. What the fuck was that?
M didn’t look very impressed, either, and it suddenly occurred to me that today, I had acted exactly like the kind of spoiled, high maintenance, whiny little shits that I can’t stand.
Ugh. I didn’t like the feeling, and I didn’t want to look at my behavior. But I couldn’t leave that aftertaste rolling around in my mouth - it would have to be dealt with eventually.
In the meantime, M and I headed back to the dorm, and cuddled up in bed for more Flight of the Conchords, until Grave (wretched cow) came in to see me an hour later.
I didn’t want M to leave, but Dinner would be right after my meeting with Grave (wretched cow), so I reluctantly let him go. Then I followed Grave into the private Family Room, just off the sleeping quarters.
“I’d like to apologize again for my behavior earlier,” I started, and she waved it off.
“Nothing to apologize for,” she said firmly. “You felt how you felt.”
Yeah, but I think Sweet Aussie Sue thought I was gonna punch you out, I grimaced to myself. Which I prolly was.
“Do you know why you got so upset today, Kage?”
I hummed and hahhed, not really sure what to say. Cuz I wanted to burn the hop-sital down?
“May I tell you my theory?” she asked.
“Ah, sure,” I said, and took a deep breath in. Listen without prejudice, Kagie. Then you can kill her.
“Well, you’ve been here nine days,” she started, and I nodded. “And so far, nothing and no one has upset you. Until today, you never said anything about anyone or anything.”
“Yeah...” I prompted. Where is this going, wretched cow?
“And then today, you just snapped.”
“Yeah huh...” Wretched, wretched cow...
“So I wonder if maybe you have been feeling things, each and every day, but you just stuff them down, and do nothing about them? Day after day, you keep stuffing more and more feelings down, until you just explode, like you did today.”
I stared at her. “Huh,” I said eventually.
“Mmmmmm,” she agreed.
I sat and stared at the wall, rolling the premise around in my mouth to see if it tasted right.
“And I also wonder,” she continued, before I could reply, “if maybe your constant ‘hunger’ is actually just emotions trying to work their way out.”
“What?” I snorted skeptically. “What are you talking about it? I’m hungry cuz I’m hungry, not cuz I wanna cry like a girl. That's just dumb.”
“Well, I challenge you to really look at that over the next few days,” she replied. “When you get those hunger signs, stop and ask yourself, ‘What am I feeling right now? Am I trying to stuff an emotion?’ “
“Fine,” I sighed, and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I’ll give anything a try.”
Grave (wretched cow) thanked me for being willing to try, then sent me packing to the Group room for dinner.
Where, even though I was absolutely ravenous, I ate only my dinner, and then I stopped. No Extras.
Huh. In. Ter. Esting.