Day 7 Intensive: The Gray Area of Recovery

(You may be wondering what happened to Day 6 Intensive...that was yesterday. While I met with LA, I was then put under for the endoscopy and don't remember much after that; hence, the gaping hole in my blog).

So I pick up at Day 7. Today was a casual treatment day compared to the last week or so, as I was not double-teamed by doctors or running from office to office. I slept in (much needed considering I was up until 5:00 AM with the pain of a lifetime), took my car in for an oil change to make the message on the dashboard go away (why else would I get an oil change?), made a pit stop at Target (yes, there is a Starbucks in Target...stopped there too), and found myself on Dr. Joe's sofa around 3:00 PM.

At Dr. Joe's, the topic of the hour was the upcoming return to work. Two weeks ago, when my supervisor offered me two weeks leave, I balked. Two weeks away from the office had seemed like eternity, given my full-throttle approach to career and, well, life in general. The decision to step away, focus on myself, and get serious about recovering my body and mind was not an easy one to make. I had initially internalized a leave from work as yet another failure in this battle, a sign that I couldn't tackle this while keeping all the other balls in the air as well as I thought I could.

Now, with the two weeks coming to an end, the thought of returning to work induces a mixture of relief and panic. I keep trying to put my finger on what is causing the anxiety about returning to my "real life", and Dr. Joe helped me to poinpoint it today. I mentioned it in my Group Therapy Experiment post a few days ago: I seem to have settled into the Gray Area of Recovery, a fragile state of safety.

I've arrived at the Gray Area thanks to the two weeks off. It's the in between stage; the point at which I am no longer critically sick, but not really fully recovered either. It's a delicate place to be. It's the stage where those around me begin to see signs of progress on the outside in the form of regular eating, maybe adding a few pounds (god, I hope not too many!), balanced mood, a few more smiles and the return of laughter. But inside, things are (and will continue to be) a bit of a mess, and there is a lot of work that lies ahead.

In the last two weeks, I have built a very comfortable support system around me and could count on very regular (daily, in some cases) contact with LA and Dr. Joe, who together serve as the unconditional foundation that holds me together. LA and I even joked today that we have probably fallen into some kind of client-nutritionist interdependence, as not meeting today seemed a little strange to both of us. While on leave, it has been a relief to know that I only need to get through mere hours on my own, as opposed to going a week in between appointments. The upcoming return to weekly meetings leaves me feeling nervously independent again. While I know they are only a phone call or email away, I also know that I still struggle to reach out when I really need it for fear of winning the #1 Neediest Client of All Time award (I'm sure I'm on the short list of finalists at this point).

Also anxiety-producing is the (perhaps unfounded) belief that I will be expected to hit the ground running when I return from leave...and in all areas of my life. I, in many ways, feel as though we have just begun the recovery process; however, I worry that even the most supportive people in my life will assume the time off has restored me back to normal. Sure, I'm eating full meals again. But it still takes a lot of mental strength to do so. And will I be ready to go out and nonchalantly binge on junk food with my friends any time soon? I may never be, in all honesty. Have I fully "cheered up" and been broken free from the deep, self-hating depression that haunted me early on in recovery? No. I've grown used to having the time to rest my body, or to stay up late to fight off pain knowing I can sleep it off in the morning. There is still lot of garbage that needs to be cleaned up after this storm, and two weeks is just not enough time to do it all. I was broken...very broken. It'll take time to glue me back together. We've only just begun.

I fear my first big task back at work will break the delicate confidence that has been restored over the last two weeks. I fear the first sign of weight gain will throw me back into the cycle I've just escaped, and that I'll allow my pride to stand in the way of asking for help. I fear that I will challenge myself with foods and not be able to handle it. Most of all, I fear I will be left alone in this fight once I have convinced everyone around me I am "better." I fear relapses, and having to rebuild my life again and again and again.

I fear breaking again.

Dr. Joe said today that he is confident I will always land on my feet, that I am just that kind of person who will always find my way out of a bad situation. I hope he knows me well enough by now to be right.

I did speak to my boss today and the plan, as of now, is to return back to work next Wednesday. This means extending the leave by two additional days, but I think it's what I need to wrap up the work I've been doing with my team and transition slowly back into the rest of my life. I want to make sure I am really ready to go back and face stress again, and that the slightest breeze will not blow away the seeds we've just planted (that was a Dr. Joe shout-out right there...he uses the "seed" reference quite often).

Even though Dr. Joe was hard on me earlier in the week, it's not a persona he is able to maintain given that it is so far from his natural demeanor. Today, the nurturing, supportive therapist I have come to know and trust was back, and the quote he left me with today was "Hey, M. We're not going to let you go back scared and unprepared."

So how to handle the Gray Area? I'm still not entirely sure. At some point, life has to go on, whether I am ready for it or not. Let's face it: the world has continued to move along without me over the last two weeks as I exited to the left. In about a week, it will be time to hop back on. It will never really be the same; I'm not the same person I was when I began this process and I will continue to change as I grow stronger and more confident in myself.

The Gray Area, though I do not yet know how to handle it, is a better place to be than at the very beginning (which would probably be known as the Black Area?). I do not even really remember much about the Black Area, but LA reminded me recently. Starving, malnourished, and weak, I was difficult to converse with, teared up at the sight of food, and severely depressed. If being in the Gray Area means I have moved beyond those dark days, I'll take it.