The Final Chapter

If you missed the first four installments of this series and are interested in reading it, I have added them to my sidebar under the heading "My Story". Also, if you haven't already, please head over to my Mom's blog and read the story from a Mother's point of view.
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My stay in the "residential living" facility in Chandler, Arizona was not quite as a positive experience as my stay at the Ranch had been. It was a pilot program and I was among the first five residents. There were a lot of quirks to be worked out and those of us that were staying there fell victim to the quirks. Staff came and went; the therapy sessions were un-organized and not very helpful. The nutritionist left a lot to be desired. We basically kind of just lived there for three months co-existing and doing a whole lot of nothing. I got a job at the photo lab at Wal-Mart since one of the requirements was to either go to school or get a job. Since the program was only supposed to last three months, I didn't see any use in going to school.

I experienced a few difficulties at this facility and before the three months was up, I ended up going home. I hadn't relapsed; I wasn't back into my unhealthy eating habits, but it hadn't ended up being what I really needed. I could have gone home straight after the Ranch and been as in good of shape as I was when I went to Chandler. However, it did afford me a few more months of time before I had to truly get back into the "real world" and test my new found knowledge of myself and my illness. (I must qualify all of this by saying that I'm sure that with 11 years under it's belt that this Residential treatment facility is now flourishing and every bit as wonderful and helpful as the Ranch itself for assisting those just leaving the Ranch.)

By this point in time, I was a healthy 115 pounds. The plan was to head back home for a couple of weeks and then head back to Kansas to go to school again. It was only October by this time, so until the fall semester ended, I would stay with the woman who had given my mom the connection to Remuda Ranch; who I had worked with at the Orthopedic Surgeons Office. I went out there to live with them, rent free, and find a job until school started in the spring.

I got a pretty good job out there working as a customer service representative for a credit card company. I enjoyed the job and it was good to be back in Kansas where my friend and roomate lived. She was now married, and I had found three other girls to room with when school started again in the spring.

However, once again, things on the school front were not to work out for me. I went home that Christmas to be with my family and while I was on the plane on my way home, the woman I lived with called my mom and told her that I wouldn't be able to return and continue living with them. One of her reasons? I left dishes in the sink rather than washing them and putting them away. They were rather OCD. I was devastated and once again felt like a failure. It was only two weeks until the semester was to begin; yet they weren't willing to let me come back for two weeks so I could go to school. I ended up quitting my job and dropping out of school for that semester, once again. Looking back on it now, I'm sure I could have found someone to stay with for those two weeks. Or I could have remained at home for those two weeks and gone back when school started. But I had taken a giant step backwards in my confidence level and felt the need to be back at home; in my familiar surroundings. Having had that blow to my self-esteem and being away from home, I could have easily slipped back into my behaviors. So I came back home. Again. I have never again heard from or spoken to the woman that I lived with and worked with and was so good to me for so long.

I ended up going to the community college for the next couple of semesters and remained at home until January of the following year when I took a giant leap and moved into my own apartment with a roommate in the town north of my parents. I haven't lived at home since.

That was ten years ago. The same month I moved in with my new roommate, I got my job where I currently work. I have not once slipped back into my anorexic behavior. That is not to say that life has been all roses since that time. Hardly. I've had a lot of things I've dealt with since that time; but happily, none of them have caused me to go back. I've had boyfriends; I've had plenty of heart-break. I've had more than one (count them four) bad roommate situations, several more apartments; financial difficulty; a "sowing my wild oats" period of my life where I decided I was tired of being the "good girl" that never did anything wrong. But through it all, I can honestly say that I have never again looked at a fat gram; or a calorie; or counted how many servings of carbs or protein or "optional calories" I've eaten. I can't remember the last time I worked out. My favorite foods are nothing you would consider exactly "healthy". I eat fries; I eat pizza; I eat ice cream; I eat chips; I eat cookies. I eat all the things that I used to consider my "fear foods" without a moments thought. Something changed in my metabolism after I went through this because I still get an occasional glance or look or "concerned question" from people who wonder if I still have that "eating problem". And all I have to say to this is: "Hey. I eat...and I eat what I want. That's all I can do". So to those people who still think I have an eating problem I say, "Phooey on you. I know where I am. And I know I eat fine. You don't believe me? It's your problem". Nothing ticks me off more to this day when people comment about my weight. Leave me alone already!! I'm not what a doctor might consider my "ideal weight". Probably about ten pounds under. But I'm fine. It's been 11.5 years since I left the Ranch.

So, where am I now? I'm 32 years old. I have a husband of almost five years and three beautiful children who I am extremely blessed to have. Not all women who come through an eating disorder are ever able to have children. I live in a nice home in a nice neighborhood. I have a job in which I just celebrated my 10 year anniversary on Monday. I have friends.

My life is by no means perfect. Whose is? But I feel blessed to be where I am today. Blessed to have what I have. Blessed for all the people who got me through this ordeal that now seems light years away. Blessed to have found Remuda Ranch. Blessed to have life. It's been quite a ride thus far.

To end this series, I would like to post an essay or story of sorts that I wrote shortly after returning from Arizona entitled "The Metamorphisis". I posted this almost a year ago when I first started blogging regularly, but thought it would be a good way to end My Story:

THE METAMORPHISIS

Imagine for amoment with me that you are in your backyard. As you wander through the grass, admiring the crisp fall air, the beautiful leaves turning colors of gold and ash and red, you begin to imagine.

The air smells sweet and has a touch of winter to it. You can picture yourself very soon sitting by the fire, popping popcorn and enjoying being with yourl oved ones at Christmas as you share fond memories of holidays past. As you begin to come out of your reverie, your eyes come face to face with a cocoon, balancing itself onone of the leaves of a tree. You admire it, and you revel at the amazement of the transformation that is happening within that little haven.

An unattractive, rejected creature is going through a metamorphosis that will result in one of the most beautiful creatures God has ever created.....a butterfly. It is completely unique to itself, and unlike any other ever created. Its wings consist of almost every color in the rainbow. Its shape allows it to soar over the earth. It is gentle and humble, un-harming, yet able to take care of itself. You smile to yourself, thank God for smal lwonders, and walk back into your house where Mom has prepared a wonderful meal that your whole family will undoubtedly gorge itself on. The cocoon slips out of your mind, to be un-thought of again until you happen to run across another. You are completely unaware of what is happening within the cocoon....

Outside, the wind begins to blow, rocking the fragile leaf that houses the precious creature inside. Inside the cocoon sits the creature, in a precarious state. Will it make it? Or will the stormy weathers outside its safe shell wreak havoc on the process it is undergoing? It shivers. It can see outside, but it's very foggy. It is completely aware of its surroundings, but unable to attach emotion to it. After all, it's between worlds. It's in a shell, unable to love, live, or communicate until that shell is broken. Until it can spread it's wings and fly and show its beauty to the world. But will it get that chance? Not if the cruel world with its stormy weather and unpredictable circumstances have anything to do with it. No, this creature must rely on a greater force. One that can withstand all the trials and tribulations that it must go through to get there. But it's unable to see, and understand. It must rely on trust. It tries to see out, to understand what's going on in the outside world. It wants to relate, to commune with nature and all of God's creatures. But it's stuck. Bound by a greater force. A hard wall that is strong enough to keep it locked in, but not strong enough to keep out the knowledge that the world is out there. With great effort the creature struggles, and eventually gets enough strength up to push. But to no avail. The wall is as solid as a rock. It tries again. Still no luck. With several more efforts, the creature resigns to the fact that it is stuck there, sighs, and leans against the wall of its prison. "Will I ever get out of here?"it wonders. "Will I ever be able to see the world as everyone else sees it?" It feels alone, lost, scared and unsure. It only longs to be like everyone else, like all the other creatures out there that have already completed their METAMORPHISIS. But alas, it must wait. Hoping it lives through all the obstacles it must live through. It's tired of being on the outside looking in. It's tired of being in a body it feels uncomfortable in. It's tired of being trapped, knowing there's better things out there, but they're so far out of reach, and it has no idea how to bring them within reach. It's just tired. Out of place. Alone.

This scenario describes just as I felt while enduring an eating disorder. It may also be the way many others feel while going through many other types of issues. I was trapped. I knew what was happening, but there wasn't a thing I could do about it. I had no way out. I was an outsider looking in, but unable to be a part of the life I was observing. Like the caterpillar hovering in its cocoon, I was trapped in my own private hell. I watched the world around me, enjoying all the beauty, and everyday activities, but I was completely unable to be a participant. I became withdrawn, preventing myself from being hurt by outside forces. I distanced myself from my family and friends, and became a person that I myself didn't even recognize. What was this strange and unfamiliar creature that was living within me; this disease that had overtaken my body? I tried over and over but to no avail, to try to break that wall, free myself of the prison that I had put myself in. I was lonely, tired, out of place and alone. "What is the purpose of this?", I questioned to myself and to God every single day of my life. Why me, God? Why am I going through this hell? No answer that I got ever satisfied me. And I knew I was stuck. The knowledge of what I was doing to myself superseded the fear of getting fat, of losing control and being unable to regain it. I couldn't let that happen. So I continued to harm myself. I was in danger of not completing the METAMORPHISIS that God was trying to achieve. The outside forces of the world that rocked my safe little haven were threatening to win. Would I make it? Luckily, I did. But not without months of in-patient treatment, and the love and support of my family and friends, and most importantly my final resignation to put my faith, trust, and life in the hands of my creator.....the one who would indeed complete that transformation. It's not an easy thing to overcome, in fact, it's the hardest task I've ever had to accomplish in my whole life. But the end result is amazing......

After what seems forever, the creature begins to stir. It had given up the fight, admitted to the fact that it wasn't its fight in the first place, and placed its well-being in the capable hands of it's creator. It was a terribly hard thing to do, but when that stubborn wall refused to break on its own, and when that fog that clouded its vision refused to lift, it decided it had no choice but to wait....and wait....and wait....and trust that that greater force knew what it was doing. Not that the creature didn't work....Oh, no....it worked with all it's might. For, you see, once it put it's faith and trust in its creator, things began to happen. And the work became a mission to become all it could be and free itself of that horrible prison. And eventually it did....it didn't happen all at once, but day by day, the wall became softer, and the fog became thinner, and the terribly strong strings that had bound it began to unravel. And one day,without even realizing it, they were gone. It had been such a slow subtle process, that it didn't even realize that it was at this very moment soaring over the earth, the wind through its wings, with more freedom than it had ever imagined. Beautiful in its own right, because it was unique.

The butterfly never forgot those days that it spent in that cocoon. While it was a trying and difficult time, and it would never want to repeat it, the experience taught it strength, perseverance, character, and the ability to put its total trust and faith in something it couldn't see, touch, or hear. And the result....total METAMORPHISIS.

By Kristen P.
October 1995

Thanks for taking time to read my story. If it has helped, inspired, or encouraged even one person, then I'm happy that I took the time to write it. It's been quite an experience re-living it all, and I thank you for reading it.




Love,
Kristen