Mondays...

Weekends seem to go by too fast. Especially this weekend. It's not that I don't love my job, it's that there is a possibility that tomorrow, a secret I have kept from my family since I was ten years old will be discovered. In my opening post I mentioned that I struggled every day with EDNOS, which stands for Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified. In my case, this means that my weight still falls into a normal range (according to medical professionals at least...in my firm opinion it is grossly overweight), I do not technically binge (although I call it binging, most people would call it minor over-indulgence), and I do not purge often enough to be diagnosed with either anorexia nervosa or bulimia nervosa. However, the psychological manifestations are present, and many of the habits of those struggling with these disorders present, although perhaps to a lesser extent. I have struggled with intense hate of my body for years, definitely since I was eleven, and I think it started when I was ten.

Although she is technically not my counsellor, for lack of a better term, my counsellor 'Bethany', who has worked with me for nearly two years since my graduation into the adult mental health system, had been on my case about this for nearly our entire relationship. Finally, in November of this past year, I was assessed by the psychiatrist head of the program with which I am affiliated. Her recommendation was that I should get a consult with someone from the Eating Disorders program. I pushed it off, not sure what to do, but eventually figured that it was just a consult, I might as well. After quite some delay (partially by me and partially in problems with the mandatory blood test that I had to get from my doctor's office-it required some tap dancing as I wasn't ready to talk to her about this) I had the hour-long phone consult the same week that my mom had her surgery. The diagnosis was EDNOS. At the time, I was incredibly frustrated. I had decided that I would look into getting some individual counselling from someone with the program, but found out that that wasn't possible-individual counselling was only available if I entered the intensive program system-either day hospital or inpatient treatment. My only option from them was a CBT (cognitive behavourial therapy) group that starts September 15th. Note that this consult was in March. After quite a bit of denying that I needed anything, despite the recommendation that I actually think about a 2-month inpatient stay, I agreed to do the group. This is partially because there are no groups around for young adults who have family members dealing with cancer and although my friends are wonderful and always listen, I feel that it would be useful to have another sounding board so to speak. I thought that everything was fine, sent in etc etc. Well, not so. When I saw Bethany about two weeks ago, she informed me that she needed another referal for me to enter the group-and it had to be from my doctor. I was faced with a bit of a tough decision but decided that I would have to let her in on things. So last week, my doctor's receptionist phones my cell-I'd requested that Bethany put on the referal that that was the way to contact me (I only got a cell about two and a half months ago) and the receptionist is somewhat freaked, telling me that my doctor wants to see me tomorrow morning, that I need blood work and an EKG, all that medical stuff. I'm only in a summer position and my doctor's office is across town from my work-more than an hour's bus ride away, and I work longer hours than my doctor's office is even open. I'm somewhat of a shy person when it comes to asking for things for myself, and so I said that I couldn't come in until my position was finished, two weeks from now. Plus, I knew I needed time to calm down about the EKG. Once again, I am an incredibly private and modest person, and I have a VERY hard time exposing that area even to female medical professionals. This may stem back to an incident where I was inappropriately touched by a boy in my class when I was twelve. Whatever the reason, when I heard that I also freaked a bit! I phoned up Bethany and explained the situation, and she said it was okay for my doctor's office to put 'pending' down for the tests as long as I got in to see her right away when my job was finished. So, the referal got sent in to the hospital with the Eating Disorders program. I guess everything in the mental health program gos to psychiatry first, because on thursday I received a call-on my cell-from a nurse with psychiatry, wondering in part why my referal had almost no information. Well, that was okay, it still got forwarded onto Eating Disorders. Everything was fine until I got home...and found out that my dad had taken a call from this nurse, who said which hospital she was calling from, and had then given her my cell. I was FREAKED OUT OF MY MIND and made a couple of hysterical calls to Bethany and to the person who had done my consult. Of course, because this was 7 at night, all I got was answering machines. I phoned Bethany again before work started on friday, and left another message. The reason I was, and am so freaked out is that if the Eating Disorders program has my home phone number as my contact number, and phones my house and says where they are from, I'm not exactly sure how I can deflect my parents' concerns. I phoned psychiatry personally on friday and also left a message with one of the Eating Disorder nurse's answering machines (it seems that I am doomed to speak to answering machines these days). However, there is no guarantee that everything will get passed on to the right people before they try phoning me....possibly on the wrong number. Although I have a story concocted if they do phone my house and say where they're from, I'm not sure whether my parents would believe it. I'm NOT at ALL ready to let them into this part of my life. Maybe they suspect things, but they have never said ANYTHING, EVER.

If ED does phone my house and announce their identity, I am going to say that I have concerns about a friend of mine (which, if I count myself as a friend, perhaps I do) and that I wanted to investigate what might be available to her before I talked to her about my concerns-you know, have options for her to know about. However, I don't know how well I could pull that off. I do not lie very often...

My parents were freaked out enough about me being phoned by the hospital. Just think what would happen if they found out that their daughter was going to be going to an Eating Disorders group. They have enough to worry about. They don't need to worry about me or nag me and I certainly don't need them watching what I eat or telling me off for exercising or anything like that.

People say that secrets are better when shared. Well, unfortunately for me, as much as my parents do love me and I love and care about them, when it comes to sharing my mental health concerns, the more they know, the worse things get. I have found that it is always better for them to know the least possible. I'm not sure exactly why, but that's just how it is. And especially now that I am an adult, I feel that I certainly deserve a certain amount of privacy-not have something so big brought out into the open prematurely because my doctor's office still had my old phone number and put that on the referal sheet.

Here's the other cruel thing about all this...Bethany mentioned that it 'looked' like the group had space. Not that there was space...when I had thought since I agreed to this in March that I'd been on the list and was guaranteed this space. So in the end, all of this could be revealed and I not even be able to do the group until January, when the next one starts. By then my life could have taken yet another 180 degree turn.

To help keep me less nervous at work tomorrow, I'm going to stick my cell phone in my pocket on vibrate...that way I know if I've been called. See, if I haven't been called, I don't need to worry yet about my parents possibly knowing. If I have been called, I will hopefully get through to whomever is calling and be able to find out if they phoned my house and EXACTLY what they said. Then I can know whether I need to practice my story or whether I'm in the clear. I certainly hope it's the later.