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06.20.04 - 8:53 p.m.
Class matters, Or the Anger of Wisdom-Come-Too-Lately i promised myself that i'd continue to write the truth about my life, opinions, and feelings in this space, even if i knew that ppl IRL read this website. i told myself that i'd have the courage not to label this space "friends only" (wherever the hell that means), and not tell people i might remotely know IRL (e.g., lurkers in northeastern kansas subscribing to cox.net, or those in the uncity region using roadrunner.com ) to bugger off. i can't afford to care about this space; this convenient outlet at home or away from my handwritten journal to pitch emotions to the virtual wind, and not look back. so i won't. and i will stop attempting to protect myself, or other readers from the truth of my internal thoughts. as i'm starting to see, the tendancy to wish to protect sensitive ppl, which runs the gamut from ppl (perpetually) going through hard, chaotic times; ppl facing continuous personal emotional/physical/mental traumas; ppl vexed by parental strains, etc... [and, i swear to god, i'm NOT oozing sarcasm here. the sarcastic flourish drips later in my weekend report.i interrupt my own storytelling, to foreground my good news: i got the courage to make a consultation appt with a new therapist for Wed. 10 AM, despite the truth that i've been slow to breakaway from my present therapist precisely because she's clearly shared with me her sensitive nature, her turbulent (de)attachment w/ her own family members and past therapists, etc...] bottom line: i will not refrain from speaking my true feelings and thoughts, even if those feelings are unpleasant for the listener to hear. what keeps us ALL sick - both me and any listener - is when i button my lip, and patiently look on the bright side, rather than label my frustration, annoyance, disagreement. these sum unpleasant feelings produce this aura of "anger" to others, even when i'm not feeling angry, or even when i'm entitled to feel contrary to the listener before me. So the weekend report: CC's wedding. i went to CC wedding yesterday, and i didn't cry a teardrop. trish however couldn't stop bawling, even before the wedding began. trish started crying when she first saw coops, who at 4 months pregnant and at officially two entire years without one single hospitalization (an anoretic purger, coops has been in umpteenth institutions over 22 times), looked "normal"for the very first time since i've known her. when i say normal i mean only that her neck,arm, shoulder bones and ribs didn't jut out; normal in that her skin was clear, there weren't circles under her eys, and the blue veins that i'm used to see pulsing at her temple, her forehead, along her neck, and everwhere else - weren't visible this time. the insider joke of the evening amongst most of the twentysomething age women attending the wedding --- these women that she considered her closest friends at the wedding -- that is, majority of her bridesmaids, and oddball friends like me and trish who obviously were not family relations -- we had all knew CC because of either E.D. support groups or hospital stays at w*llspr*ng, whit*plains-bloomingdales, 'frew, etc... her father came closest to blurting out the 16+ year chaos/ pain/ trauma/ exponential $$$ /therapy /fights/ destructiveness that has been not only coops's e.d/self-injuring/ klepto/ drug/ random sex ordeal, but by extension, the burden and concern of every bloody friend, associate, teacher, physician, therapist, co-worker that has every crossed paths with her. yes, her unfeeling, supersmart 2 ivy doctoral degreed, westchester-living, england-originating dapper father toasted to his daughter CC for overcoming so much to arrive at this wedding day. meanwhile, the other phantom mother triumphant was Supernutritionist CH, whose first name ironically is a version of coop's. imagine knowing your nutritionist/hospitalization guardian for over 10 years at your wedding and graduation. imagine how many times this woman withdrew her from college, hospitalized her in town, and all over the northeast. imagine this woman as the unofficial guest of honor at your wedding...and of course, imagine her beaming under the glow of her good work. i would not be exaggerating that 75% of the ppl attending fully expected to attend coops's funeral before ever attending her wedding. if i sound angry, i am. do i seem bitter and resentful? i am. is my anger of the furious, wrathful, or dangerous type? no, it is not. i'm practicing putting into words the truth that anger has a plethora of shades, and that i'm entitled to this anger, which might more appropriately called 'righteous indignation'. don't get me wrong. not only has coops's pissed a helluva lot of ppl off with her illness, and lost friends because of it, but also she's well aware that she deserved this anger. that she incited it. that she's responsible for it. and rather than tiptoe around current and recovering chronic e.d.ers, i think that we all could benefit from letting ourselves feel more angry, rather than limit our feelings around E.D. survivors/recovers to just nurturing, compassionate, forgiveness and understanding. i include myself in this mix, as one who currently purges, and have friends who've purged and starved, especially those who've lived this purgatorium for over 10 years. i didn't stew in jealousy at the wedding either, really. mostly i felt lost in thought, because my mindfelt besieged by forgotten memories arose again of time spent with CC , especially during what i call my 'lost semester' - the semester where the supernutritionist yanked CH out of school during final exams - in her 6 years (that's 12 semesters) at IC, coops never completed a semester. what do i make of the fact that once CC left this uncity, the supernutritionist, and her college and transferred to another one in nyc, she completed her degree in 4 semeters/2 years, and graduated summa cum laude. You see, the first major schism in my relationship w/ the Supernutritionist (okay, i'll either call her CH or SuperNut, was that i argued to her that if only CC left this area (and implictly her), CC would thrive. SuperNut CH didn't believe me, and railed against me for purporting to know 'what was best' for CC, purported to know better than CH. a HUGE No, No.
the second major schism in my relationship with CH came over a second client AS in fall 2002, when her unprofessional ass "warned" AS that I was an angry person. (uhm what business did CH have communicating anything about me to other clients??) hence, CH took it upon herself to tell AS that she should be afraid of me (I maintain to this DAY that this advice was motivated by racist obliviousness) so when client AS allows SuperNut to believe that I was responsible for that client's bruises; allowed the SuperNut to believe that I'd angrily beat up on her, rather than the SuperNut doing her f*cking job and obviously calling inexplicable bruises by their proper name - anemia - the shit blewup in MY face... For example, therapist of 3 years GRILLed me like I was some psychopath about if I was beating second client up. Thank you CH and AS for fucking with my therapist's trust. Excuse me, why did everyone so conveniently forget that I WAS BEAT UP as a child and thus, promised myself and the world that would NEVER hurt a fly in that way??... As usual though, CH's hypotheses devalued whatever truth I argued in my defense. Humiliated by/in front of my own therapist? Yes. Annoyed that CH's bullshit intruded in the sanctity of my Thx relationshp? yes. Annoyed, that again the UTI's were SO worried about second client AS (like they were about CC) that they broke every professional boundary in the book...No matter who else their actions hurt (me). YES,that was the second final schism in my relation to SuperNut. By the way, SuperNut to this day has NEVER apologized for fucking with my Therapist's trust of me. But of course SuperNut made sure to recommend my Thpst PC to come to the rescue of her favored client (since in a town FILLED with therapists, aparently no one else but my Thpst PamC could treat AS but PaMC. CH isn't all that bad you know, once CH's devoted to you. You see, once CH's devoted to you all gates open in your favor. And watch out once she labels you the evil bad guy. The NERVE of interfering, influencing, and interfering in my relationships with other EDers long after my sessions with CH ended. What ever happened to the InPatient Creed 101: "We can neither confirm, nor deny, that we've previously worked with or know anything about former clients." It's called Confidentiality, ever heard of it?
Why do any of these details matter? because SuperNut was supposed to be MY nutritionist as well, back in the day when I paid $75 a visit. unlike the present when second client paid $10/copay... Or rich EDers like CC's upper middle class daddy, who paid out of pocket for CC to meet with CH twice a week...FOR YEARS!!!!. DURING THE WEDDING & RECEPTION, I HAD SEVERAL EPIPHANIES: EPHIPHANY #1: If only I could have foreseen CC's opulent wedding day back in 1999, when I was foregoing finishing my final papers to visit CC at CayugaMC. When I spent $$$ I didn't have on food for CC, begging her to just eat anything. When I spent time I didn't have, sitting with her through meals (FF muffins, juices, and Ensures) to be supportive when her medical team and family were fed up. When I taxed my last ethical nerve, watching her steal Xenedrine, candybars, and tons of other shit from CVS. When I jeopardized my own relationship to the SuperNut, by not reporting that I'd watched CC load her jeans with rocks and load her gut with H20 before her weighins would you believe the SuperNut yelled at me for endangering CC's life by not telling SuperNut all about CC's games. Like it was MY fault that CC kept losing weight, becuase I did not confess to her these bloody crimes of this 22year old. How quickly CH forgot (or didn't bother to consider) that perhaps I needed someone to comfort ME on how CC's shit affected MY E.D. Time again, the urgency of ppl like CC and AS overshadowed and blinded CH, PC, and others health care ppl to my needs.
And I could go on endlessly, but the point is... If only I knew this day would come, back then during that devotional period of cheerleading CC on, when she was on the brink of death. (She had the usual Liver and kidney damage, osteoporosis, the innards of an 80yr woman)... If I knew that this day would come, when I witnessed how her life came together in the end: that she would graduate college after 8 years summa cum laude (uhm, i didn't), that she'd live to get married (I'm still not even close to finding a partner to love, much less near any marriage altar), and that her daddy would throw such a lavish wedding (sadly, my daddy can't afford to). if i knew then that, true to CC's mother's promise - if coops stayed out of the hospital for an entire year, CC would earn a plane ticket to travel to Europe...(I've always paid for my own plane tickets and transportation, thank you very much) [INSERT DIGRESSION:Isn't it amazing the extent to which moneyed parents of some E.D. sufferers will offer (i.e., bribe?) to give their children plane tickets to London and France, or Belgium and Brussels, if only their children would stop purging, stop losing, stop cutting, stop having university administration threaten to withdraw them from school, again?]... If I knew then, what I saw now, I would have limited my "support" to private prayers that CC would live, survive the E.D. and have a happy life. I would have cared, but several curtailed my energy into showing how much I cared. As if demonstrating my care might convince CC (or AS for that matter) that they were worthy of care, and would care of themselves (or even reciprocate that care of me, to me, in kind). After turning over my desire for CC to get better to her HP, I would have returned to minding the business of my own life. That's the truth!!! That truth makes me angry at myself, and angry at CC. That anger is the anger of wisdom come-too-lately - not anger to slap CC upside the head - although at the time - for the number of disruptions she caused in my life (digression again, CC and I had the same therapist PC... again, consider how many ethical crises arose when CC told me shit, or would pass out or have health crises before me, but swear me not to tell PC or SuperNut) EPIPHANY #2: God forbid, the insider joke at my own wedding is this: the majority of my closest friends who attend happen to be ppl I'd befriend in in E.D./Depression/BPD/12 step support networks, either in IRL or online. I'm not playah-hating at this moment, or refusing to call the kettle black (hey, i AM black! LOL). The reality is, CC's lived 16 of her 27 years (59%) in and out of hospitals. I'm not holier than CC - i'm batting 18 out of 30yrs or 60% sick - I can only bless the HP above that I've spent roughly 90% of my 60% OUTSIDE of hospitals - my 3 hospital stays were shorter and less pressure filled to gain weight then as hers - i'm not mocking her, when i feel incredibly sad for such a pathetically narrow portfolio of outlets to make friends outside of the context of mental illness. does that make sense? that because CC was so medically unstable, she couldn't participate in the tons of college campus organizations, events, etc... - she was too busy going to multiple thx,the Supernut, psych, group visits a week. and meeting her primary friends through that outlet. so, when i'm angry today at CC, i'm angry that her E.D.-life crowded out so many chances for her to form friendships using her other multiple talents CC, she's a fashion designer, writer, musician, and dancer. (flashback: i totally remember spending time researching if CC could participate in my uni's annual fashion show, and wishing so much that she'd take up some other activity than here hell-driven desires to overexercise, undereat, cut, burn, and worry her family and friends to neurosis over whether or not she'd live through the week. EPIPHANY #3: While I felt enormous joy for CC to achieve such a happy ending, and don't deny the hard work it took for her to get there, I also found myself annoyed and angry, because I'm not sure if CC knew, or would EVER, know how many hours of energy - phone time, visits, concern, "research to get help for CC" - that she'd sucked out of other people's lives in order to get well. I'm not branding the rest of us enablers, or acting like CC tied our hands or made us try to convince her to stop destroying herself, and become an expert at anything else but anorexia. We all willfully and lovingly talked, ralleyed, counseled, advised, yelled, exerted SO MUCH FUCKING ENERGY trying to CHANGE CC'S MIND. Just imagine a room of 100+ adults who strove to convince CC's MIND that her only purpose on this earth was NOT self-destruction, and that the only means of alleviating her pain was NOT self-destruction, NOR inciting other peoples pain when they witness and have nightmares about her self-destruction. (I too dreamed of CC's funeral. Trish broke down crying to me time and again, that she feared walking into CC's apartment and finding her dead. Especially, since trish had found her passed out so many times, wasted from drinking the night before or exhaustion from purging or starving). Don't we have a right to feel angry that CC wouldn't listen or believe for the past SIXTEEN YEARS that she was INTELLIGENT, BEAUTIFUL, LOVING, and had so much to offer the world beyond the initials E.D./ED-NOS/ BPD/ SI/ AA ??? Rather than feel angry at CC and her wedding fest, this time I didn't feel much of anything at all. (I've already given CC an abundance of my emotions and emotional energy in years past) Besides, she found the love of her life to marry and tell her the same above truths that we've all tried to tell her all this time. Why did she believe him, and not us? God forbid that all EDers need is to find their one true love in order to get better. Does make the rest of us caring schmucks chump-change, to be used, chewed up, and thrown out once prince charming arrives. EPIPHANY #4: At an E.D. woman's wedding, the groom becomes nearly INVISIBLE to the triumphant story of the E.D. brides recovery and survival Now how does that make a bride feel? Does she recognize this inbalance and/or does she give a shit? Does the groom/significant other care that the supposed former ex-junkie (eating disorder, self-injuring, addiction, whatever) still draws more 'love' and attention at even their own wedding? Over and over again, I heard the triumphant narrative that drowns out other wedding-reception din: Did you see how CC came so very far to overcome medical-life threatening conditions, to overcome looking like a starving child from an underdeveloped country [BTW i use both the words "starving" and "child" as literally as the act of restricting and purging starves the body, and diminishes the flesh so that CC never looked a day older than 16yrs old for as long as I've known her in E.D. mode, weighing in double digits. At around my height, not attractive. again, i can't believe how i actually wanted to approach her at the wedding. how everyone wanted to hug, touch, compliment her... SO damn different than May 2000, when we bought dresses together at the mall, and I watched the pained faces of other shoppers watching HER strut and trying clothes. Why? Because CC looked skinnier than the mannequins. I never broke her delusional image then, or filled her in on how embarrassing all those stares felt to me. Never complained by MY discomfort, no matter how many knowing, tsking heads turned our way. These too are hurts unintentional, tiny social anxieties that the EDers (wrapped up in her own shit of staying alive) doesn't quite ever have to account for. And Why not, if everyone so damn glad that she chose to unstick her head out of the toilet, and stick around with the living for a nother few years. I'm not calling the group a chump or a co-dependent; an ego-less martyr or a saint. I just couldn't get over how every wedding toast referenced E.D.'s chronic ill-health. Much of the underbreathe rumoring referred to how alive, real, healthy CC looked when she wasn't underweight. Sure, we were all astonished. But again, something just wasn't quite balanced here - or maybe I noticed it less than at M__'s wedding. And again, am I a lunatic to interpret that E.D. phenomena as a type of hurt -(intentional or not) upon the groom? Isn't it a bit unfair that so much focus on the E.D. recoverer triumphant life story detracts attention to the S.O's life story and presence part in his/her own wedding. or the S.O.'s parents and family... And when I see unfairness -- yep, I guess you could mark that emotion as a type of anger -- anger at the disease, the S.O., the E.D. bride? OKAY. Realistically, CC did not have to get up at the podium and toast every guest who gave a shit, and knew her through her E.D. debacles. And I'm not implying that CC doesn't realize this all on her own. Not angry, maybe perplexed, or bemused. Maybe it's a best that I cannot quantify the energy I've described above, that supportive energy to help CC change her desire to live, to believe in her own brilliance and self-worth. Because, I looked around the room, and calculated a social and psychic debt that CC can never repay. Because I looked an unquantifiable FIFTEEN YEARS o various types of "support", and wondered: how lucky she is to have received it? i sulked and brooded thinking about, how many females suffer in silence or medicate w/out meds but with more accessible food or drugs, who do not receive her kind of support. i rethought the grossest theory in the history of eating disorders -- EDers are motivated by their desire for attention -- but I now consider attention in a new sense:
Attention in the etymological sense: As in, how many of us at CC's wedding had ATTENDED to her painful, misunderstood 75-95 lb existence?? Why her, and not them? Why not ALL of US, ALL the time? Don't these "EPIPHANIES" make you angry, too? For whom? Why? And what should any and all of us do about such rightful rage?
MUSIC: Patti Labelle, "A New Day"
READING: Movie: "Seven" (m. freeman & b. pitt)
FEELING:Ruminating over the Meaning of Angry Wisdom Come Lately
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