Surrendering... | Aug, 2018
Personal Blog

I have been hospitalized twice for my eating disorder, and they each offered a unique experience, with a twist of what the hell is happening to me.

I was admitted into The Foothills Hospital in Calgary, and found myself in a tiny hospital room with 3-4 other patients.

I was given a locker, a bed, and a side table.

The bathroom in our room was locked, and we were given set times we could use the washroom. We we supervised while we used the washroom, and only a curtain separated us from the nurse.

We were given a sign up sheet for shower times, and were given 15 minutes per shower. All personal items were locked up, razors, tweezers etc. and could be used during this time only.

During the day, free time was limited; we were up early and on the go until 7:00pm most evenings.

It was expected of us to eat all snacks and meals together. Our guidelines were set by the dietician, and we had to choose meals according to that plan.

Each meal had to be completed in thirty minutes, which could include 4-5 different foods and drinks at one time. Snack time was twenty minutes, and full completion was required.

If you did not complete a meal or snack, you would have to drink a meal supplement that met the calorie needs, and that meant a very uncertain tummy.

We attended 2-3 groups per day, and were expected to do homework when required.

There were modules that we were given on various topics, dealing with, body image, self compassion, and emotional regulation.

We were expected to participate in group discussions and share our opinions, feelings, experiences etc.

I talked a!

The challenge of being in such tight quarters and spending so much time with our group, is that there is no where to go when someone is having a tough day, or moment.

We were not allowed to leave our unit under any circumstances, had that hospital room got very tiny sometimes.

People with eating disorders often suffer with other behaviours...such as self harm, suicidal thoughts, and rage.

Unfortunately, there are times that desks would fly across the room, meals would end up on the walls, screaming would be uncontrollable and walls would get beat up.

I learned compassion very quickly in the hospital, and I experienced first hand, strong behaviours from those suffering with mental illness. The desperation in their hearts and mind. The anger and frustration that burns their soul.

Being in hospital changed me in a way that I will never truly be able to explain, and will also never forget.

Hospital was not glamorous. It was not a holiday. It was not a break. It was not fun. It was not easy.

Hospital for me was a time to heal physically, and get uncomfortable with my body as it healed. It was digging into my emotions and understanding why I was hurting. It was learning patience and tolerance. It was making friends that would change my life, and then watching them go back into the real world ...praying for their success. I was humbled.

I was ready to surrender, and I knew that I could no longer battle my eating disorder on my own.

It was tough, but I am tougher!

I continue to fight my battle everyday, and never forget the lessons I learned in hospital.

The Only Way Out is Through...


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My name is Penny and my blog has been written to take you on my journey of living with an eating disorder. To share my strength, hope, courage, tears, sadness and heartache, and my wishes for a better tomorrow. I don't know how my story will end, but the words 'I gave up' will never be printed. I am choosing to battle for my life an yours! I hope to spread awareness on Eating Disorders and Mental Health Issues.