FEAR

Imagine you are petrified of spiders. Your pulse quickens at the very thought of them. You periodically scan your surroundings for them. And if you see one, you scream and run away. 

Now imagine getting up 4 days a week and driving to a house infested with spiders to conquer your fears with 14 other people who are also petrified of the same thing. You talk about your fears,  looking for the underlying causes, share coping mechanisms, and make conversation just to get through the day. Then, at predetermined times in the day, you have to hold a variety of spiders. Some may be “cuter” than others, easier to tolerate. Then you go home and it feels as though spiders are crawling on your skin. You feel them, you smell them, you cannot escape them.

Being in the Day Program and, now the Day Hospital, is very similar. With a few important differences. Instead of arachnids, you are deathly afraid of food and of gaining weight. And, unlike spiders that you can generally ignore, you need food to survive. You cannot call your husband to kill your snack for you. And, your fear is one that people cannot understand. “But food is so good! How can you not like it? Just eat! Spiders are gross, I get it. But food…what is wrong with you?”

The Day Hospital is simply an extension of the Day Program. Rather than leave at 3:30, you stay an additional 4 hours, where you get to cook and eat an additional meal and dessert. 2 snacks, 2 meals and 2 desserts each day. Every bite is a challenge in itself. And there is no escaping. No running 6km to feel lighter, no sit-ups, no skipping meals – causing feelings of panic about weight gain. You leave full to the brim, exhausted and you smell like food – an inescapable reminder of what you ate. I have only been in Hospital for a few days but I go home every night and scrub thoroughly to exorcise the smell. 

And then suddenly, you have three days off. Three days where no one else is there to put the metaphorical spider in your hand six times a day; where you could spend all your time running and hiding and focused on other more pleasant things; where you can revert back to your old ways and feel safe and warm. You know you shouldn’t. One because it will just lengthen the battle but also because even one minute of running can erode the tolerance you built up during the week, leaving you skidding down the mountain. 

And even though you know restriction is illogical; if you know you won’t gain ten pounds in a week; if you know you could get “kicked out” of the program; if you know you will disappoint the people you love; if deep down you want to get well; the fears and urges are strong – like a current whispering your name, waiting to pull you under. So you spend your three days trying to use logic to battle irrational fear. 

Fear is powerful. My fear of gaining weight often manifests itself in logical arguments. “No no no, the pancakes are too big even for the average person. It is wasteful. You don’t wanna do that. Have the biscuit and fruit with jam….see you are fine; you are eating jam.”

Then BAM! The scale gives you the score for your weekly battle. And though it does not always rule in your favour, you know how hard you’ve battled. And no amount in kilos can take that away from you. You have to find whatever you can to fuel the next weekly fight. 

Not sure what next week will bring but…Gladiator, up!