Toxic

 Let's talk about "diet culture".  If you're anything like me, most of your life, whether it was from parental force (how my story begins) or from restrictive behavior you put upon yourself, you have dieted in some form or another.  I remember being taught there were good and bad foods, even before the "clean" eating crew came along.  Good foods were things like turkey bacon, low fat or even fat free cheese, or egg white omelets which honestly is like eating tasteless hot jello with a hint of egg flavor. Bad foods were sugary cereals, regular bacon, BUTTER, Poptarts.  I fell for all of it.  I did Weight Watchers, lost weight, gained weight on it, and was JUDGED at meetings. I ate nothing but a pot of cabbage soup for 5 days straight! All in the pursuit of being thin. Why on earth do we think this is a healthy way of living? 

Diet Culture has trained us to view food and eating this way. And we have turned it into an Olympic event.  Patting ourselves on the back when we restrict calories and stick to 1500 a day, making sure to tell everyone around us.  

I even did KETO for about 3 years.  Eat all the fat you want but carbs are of the devil.  Satan lives in a loaf of bread.  

Guys, I was miserable.  Guilty for not going to the gym often enough, and hungry.

Then I discovered counting macros.  I learned food is food.  Not good or bad, food has no moral standings.  It nourishes you and keeps you alive.  But I was still handcuffed to calorie counting, and this time it also included weighing every gram of food that went in my mouth.  While it came with  more freedom, if I wanted a cookie, or wine, I could make it fit, but it was still restrictive in nature.  Better, but not great.

Enter my AN son.  All the pieces fell into place.  He didn't weigh his food, he wasn't counting calories, he wasn't exercising non-stop.  He simply eats barely anything.  Want everything you have ever thought about dieting, weight loss, and working out until everything hurts to be flipped on its head? Have a loved one with an eating disorder.  

It made me realize that restricting and eating in a "painful deficit" isn't healthy.  Not mentally and not physically.  See, the truth of the matter is, if you want to be a healthy weight, then its calories in and calories out.  Exercise if it makes you happy.  If you want to lift weights because you love it, do it.  If you lift weights because everyone else is doing it and you'll do anything to look like that model over there, stop it.  If you would rather do yoga, but your neighbor runs marathons and is naturally thin so you run too, STOP IT.  Go do some yoga.  If you want a cookie, eat the damn cookie.  Don't eat the entire sleeve of Thin Mints, that my friend is called binging, (and probably also involves eating some feelings).  Don't let celebrities with their "skinny teas", friends touting gross MLM shakes, and instructions to only eat "clean", rule your life.  

Diet Culture is toxic.  Evil.  In the US alone, this year, there are 24 million people suffering from an eating disorder.  This of course, are the ones that are known.  From eating disorders alone, there are about 10,200 deaths.  Read that again.  

Think about it, we allow our brains to be rewired by social media, by commercials, by people we don't even know personally.  Telling us that if we want to look just like them (which is impossible by the way) just eat the way they do, do their workout 2 times a day.  Cause yourself pain, and misery so you can be someone else's perfect ideal.  Isn't this also self-harm? It may not be taking a razor and cutting your skin, but it is harming yourself on purpose to feel better.  

Listen, I want to be thin and pretty.  Just like you.  Why do I have to hurt myself to do it? 

Much love!

Thoughts? Leave a comment :) 

Chaotic

Chaos seems to be the name of the game this week.  Monday was crazy, not because of my son or any AN issues rearing its ugly head.  Instead, both dogs and one of our cats decided right before I ran out the door to head up to my office and get some work done, to pee everywhere.  I cleaned up what I saw, only to come home to more!  Including all my bedding.  And my new curtains downstairs. I spent hours doing laundry that night.  Super fun Monday night, right?

Tuesday was full of the business of grocery shopping, which is an all day event.  My son came along for the ride along with his brother.  He was laughing, joking, helpful.  When we got back home, he was just exhausted and lightheaded and dizzy.  Then his brother, thinking he was funny, called him chunky.  I addressed it, letting his brother know this was not ok. Period.  As a 16 yr old, I get he doesn't understand the gravity behind words like that.  Later, I was already heading to bed, it was going on 10pm which in our house, means go upstairs and get ready because lights out is 10:30.  I have to get my 16yr old up at 6 am so he can get to school shortly after 7.  The oldest was giving me a hard time, but then ended up going upstairs but left every light on downstairs.  I turned them all off, begrudgingly, I was all cozy in my bed, and then I went to sleep.  

11pm roles around and my oldest is waking me up.  I am always scared when he does this because it could be because he is in pain, or any number of reasons.  He came in and said "Mom, I want to apologize". I thought he was wanting to say he was sorry for acting like a jerk that evening.  That was not the case.  He then told me he wanted to apologize for what he had done.  This got my attention and scared me even more.  I sat up, turned on my lamp, and he showed me how he had cut his upper arm, deep, although not deep enough for stitches.  In sheer desperation, he had taken apart an old dull razor to get to the blade and used that to cut his arm.  I cannot even begin to tell you how thankful I was that he came to me, in a dark moment.  He was able to stop himself from doing more.  When I asked him why, again it was the same anguish of feeling like no one was going to be able to help him and get him better.  

This, my friends, is heartbreaking.  Why isn't the fact that a child needs help, who wants to find away out of the madness in his mind that tells him he is gross, and fat, and that it's ok to hurt himself, enough to have a doctor RUSH to help??  Insurance companies play a part in this as well, I hear stories day after day about how someone's child had to leave treatment because the "insurance gods" figured they had enough treatment and must be all better now! 

The good news at the end of this particular week is that I reached out to our insurance, I had some things I needed to take care of, and managed to connect with someone who really wanted to help me out.  I had received a print out from the doctors office and noticed that the referral said it was "processed, but missing information".  I asked the lovely insurance lady what that meant and what did we need to do to get it pushed through.  What was missing, was a very specific term.  Tricare needed to know why we needed a referral to the treatment center in the first place.  Is the diagnosis of AN not enough? If you are wondering, it is not.  The missing term is "medical necessity".  I called the doctor's office and let them know (they are less than helpful as front desk staff so who knows if they did what I asked) what needed to be changed.  There is hope, although I am not holding my breath.  If I did that, I might die.  

Much love

Slices

 We made it through Thanksgiving.  I hear a lot of parents talk about how hard the holidays can be.  For us, it was the days leading up to it.  When we have a holiday, or visitors coming, and this year we had both, I create an in depth cleaning list and then pass it around and let the kids initial next to what they want to do.  I use the word "want" very lightly.  I handed it to my oldest, and noticed his upper arm was sliced up.  I simply pulled his sleeve back down and looked at him.  

Earlier that morning, I had gone into the garage to get the extra fridge organized and cleaned out so there would be space for pies and Thanksgiving sides and found a lighter on the arm of a beach chair.  I took it, and hid it.  His little sister then told me she had seen his arm the night before, and that it looked fresh. It looked fresh that morning.  My heart sank.  While I know self harm doesn't just stop, I had kind of hoped it had.  Hiding things constantly gets harder every time because you run out of places to put things.  My drawers now hold all sorts of "unmentionables".  

I called his dad to let him know, as this always brings up the question, is it bad enough to have a 72 hour hold placed on him?  I did not want to do this right before Thanksgiving.  There is always the fear when you put an ED kid in the psych ward, that only the mental issues will be addressed.  Most of those floors are not well versed in handling someone with an eating disorder of some kind.  So if that patient doesn't want to eat, they don't really do anything about it.  Wouldn't it be better to have him home, so I could make certain he eats some delicious calorie laden holiday foods? Food in this situation is medicine.  Feed the body, feed the brain, erratic behavior and the ED voices begin to lose their hold.  

So I pulled him aside and told him to come upstairs so we could talk.  He knew I was aware of the cuts and he knew he had to tell me about it.  I want him to always feel like he can be honest about how he is feeling and how he is handling those feelings.  Even then it is still hard for him to tell the truth.  This was a Monday, the cuts on his arm were very fresh, as in it looked like the blood had barely dried.

When?

His answer was a few days before his dad had last come, which he had just gone back the day before.  I knew instantly this was a lie.  The lighter in the garage, he acknowledged he knew it was on the arm of the chair.  Burning and cutting himself.  Pain caused by pain.  

Why?

He feels like he will never be better.  HE FEELS LIKE HE WILL NEVER BE BETTER.  My son wants help, he wants someone to help him, and it is taking MONTHS to get him into a program, for someone to take us seriously.  So he cuts, because that is a pain he can control.  

I explained that this was honestly enough for me to Baker Act him.  Did he want that? Not yet.  Which to me, means he at least has a little bit of hope left that there is help out there for him.  

Much Love

Messy

 Somehow in the midst of all that is going on, I have become this person I don't really like.  I feel like I constantly need validation that I am handling this well.  Big surprise, I am not.  It has been a very long time since I was the person who needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to hold my hand and listen to my sob story.  Turns out being the strong one that my friends came to for answers was a job I enjoyed.  Now I feel like every time I text someone, its to whine about our problems.  

There are good things happening, my son will hopefully be in treatment soon, which means there is light at the end of this chaotic tunnel.  Two of the positions I sent in my resume to have set up interviews with me this week, which is super exciting.  Being able to work in the field I got my degree in, to be able to make a difference and see some good come out of it, and feel like I am contributing to my family feels really good.  

With all of that, why do I still feel like I need people around who are willing to scrape me up off the floor? I would much rather be the helper and not the help-ee. 

Much Love 

Strong

One of the things I wish people would stop pushing, is how strong the military child/family is.  November is Military Family Month, which means all month long, while they honor military families, they will also be talking about how strong and resilient military families and children are.  You want to know a secret? While we are sometimes, we aren't always.  This proclamation of our strength and ability to handle anything, it promotes this belief that we can handle all of the things, that nothing phases us, that when deployments and times away happen, we carry on.  And we do.  But it comes at a price. 

What doesn't get discussed is the blow our, and our children's mental health can take.  My main squeeze, and my kids Dad, we have been married for 20 years now, came this weekend for a surprise, one last visit before his upcoming deployment.  Part of me wanted to say no, we had already done the goodbyes the weekend before.  Our oldest son, whom is dealing with his ED, and all the mental health issues that come along with it, had broken down at work last weekend, I didn't know if this was a good thing to put him through again.  At the end of the day, we still want to see him, and spend as much time as we can as a family.  

It was a good weekend, of course it was! 24 hours of him home, and spending time with our kids.  Driving our anorexic son to and from work so he could get some extra time with him.  And he got to share his worries, he eats a little more when his dad is around, the dynamic is different.  He loves his dad.  So the more we are pushed and told to be strong and just get through it, the more irritated I get.  

I sobbed last night. I put so many expectations on myself.  To be this perfect parent who can fulfill all the roles, raise excellent people, take care of a house, our finances, and find time to work and fill in all the gaps.  It is A LOT.  So guess what.  I am not strong.  Not all the time.  Some days I am barely holding it together.  I don't think any of us truly are all the time.  

That is ok.  It is ok to fall apart, break down, and collapse under the pressure of everything.  And stay down for a day or two until you can get up again.  

Much Love

Heard

I think any parent in this position, with a child with an ED of any type, worries about being heard.  Will this person, this medical care giver, listen to us, really HEAR what we are saying? A lot of the time the answer is no.  You get shuffled through a system, a number, another blurry face in a long line of people.  You have anxiety, all you need to do is breathe, you're a boy, boys don't have eating disorders.  You're thin now, that's great! Such willpower!  

Today we were heard. In order for the treatment center here to allow him to start next Tuesday, there were lab tests, and an EKG that needed to be done.   I had made an appointment last week for today, and mentioned what it was for, they should have in his file what has been going on.  I haven't been super pleased with the front office staff at the doctors office, and the past two visits haven't really felt like we were listened to.  Turns out third time really is the charm, as is the third doctor! 

When she came in, she thought we were there for a yearly well visit.  Ok, strike 1. the office did not take note of the reason we were coming in, even though I made it clear it was for admittance into an eating disorder treatment center.  As soon as I said, we are here because he has an eating disorder, specifically Anorexia, she wanted all the details, asked the right questions, and immediately had suggestions, referrals, and help.  We talked about his chest pains, around his heart and how it feels when he breathes.  

Cardiac issues are a huge part of Anorexia. One of those is Bradycardia.  This is low heart rate, which can mean different things for each individual.  I have been closely monitoring my son's heart rate, he wears my lovely rose gold Apple Watch daily.  The watch face at the moment is Hello Kitty, super cute! And it makes me smile a little knowing he walks around with Hello Kitty on his wrist.  He has gotten down as low as 43, and the other day while stumbling around a roller skating rink clutching the side, it shot up to 175.  

Again she listened! 

Before they did the EKG, they did the Orthostatic test.  This involves taking blood pressure and heart rate while laying down, having the patient stand up, take it again, and then have them sit and take it a third time.  If there is a big jump, say 20 beats per minute, this can be indicative of something called POTS.  Otherwise known as Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome.  Blood flow should be steady whether you are sitting or standing or upside down.  When you have POTS, your blood will stay in your lower body when you stand.  This is common in ED patients because lack of food and low weight, and low heart rate causes the heart to have to work harder and thus slower.  

We also talked about his depression, his self harm, and his suicidal ideations.  She looked directly into his eyes when she spoke to him.  There was encouragement to reach out, that when thoughts of suicide invaded his head, to know he needs to reach out, to treat it like an external force that he needs help fighting.  I feel certain, she made sure he knew he was worth fighting for.  We are fighting for him.  And today we were heard. 

Much love

About Last Night

Who knew that in order to get myself to be better at blogging, all I needed was a kid with an ED.  

Last night, or do I call it super early this morning, we experienced our very first AN emergency room visit.  Now since we were made aware of my son's ED he has complained of some level of chest pain most days.  I am constantly keeping an eye on him, but having read everything we have, and what we have seen others go through in some of the support groups I am in, I am always leery about taking him in unless it is serious for fear that they will brush us off.  

I went to bed around 10:30 last night, I was exhausted and ready.  Around 12:40am he came in and said "Mom, my heart hurts really bad, I think you need to take me in".  I am a fairly light sleeper and I sat upright in bed, blearily awake.  Thank goodness I sleep in pajamas! It took me a minute to fully awaken, and then I began asking all the usual questions, It hurts more than usual? Is it unbearable? For how long? I had him sit on my bed and try and relax so 1. I could think and see if I could figure out which ER would be the best to take him to and maybe have someone on staff who was experienced with ED and 2. To see if he could relax and the pain lessen.   He really felt he needed to be taken in, I thought I had found a better ER so we both got dressed and headed out.  

As per usual, we were given a short registration form to fill out, and we made sure to mention he is AN.  All they wrote on the intake form was chest pains.  No one asked about family history.  Which we have a lot of.  Both side.  Heart attacks, stents, genetically high blood pressure.  They weighed him, fully clothed, shoes on, pockets full of a hefty phone and wallet and then announced his weight to him.  The kid understands kilograms so he knew.  1 of many rules of dealing with a kid with an ED, DON'T tell him his weight.  DON'T tell him his fully clothed WEIGHT.  

We are so new to this.  So very new, we are learning as we go.  So I am unsure of what tests to ask for, I am unsure of challenging a medical doctor who is supposed to know more than I do.  Aren't we supposed to be able to trust the system? They escorted us back to the Peds ER ward.  Walking.  No wheelchair.  Just a come on lets go.  Really taking those chest pains seriously aren't they.

Ok.  

The doctor and nurses were very nice, do I feel like they knew how to handle our situation? No.  He asked some questions, again my son mentioned he was AN.  They decided to check his electrolytes, and his thyroid, and do an EKG.  They set him up to start an IV.  Not that he ever got one.  They attached all the stickers and brought in the tech to do the EKG.  Which she had to try and do 3 times.  And then proceeded to tell me that it was such an old machine and didn't really work properly.  Great.  We were there until about 3:30am.  The doctor came back in and said well we don't really see anything to be concerned about.  They gave him an Ibuprofen, and then decided it was probably just anxiety.  Do they give Motrin for anxiety? He was then given instructions on how to breathe through it.  I will say, at the end of the very short stay, I felt like the doctor realized he was ill equipped for this and suggested we see a cardiologist because their EKG would be more comprehensive and they would be able to see more that was going on.  1 point for him! 

The big question here, for today, is how on earth does one find out if and which ER's are going to have someone on staff who is ED competent? In an emergency, an actual emergency, I am not going to have the wherewithal to call around and find out which one is the best.  Who is going to understand the disease and the protocol that goes along with it.  Through all of this I am consistently validated that getting my masters in clinical mental health counseling and becoming licensed to work with ED is exactly what I need to be doing.  How are there so few resources, and I keep reading how too many doctors that claim to know how to help, don't really.  

Much Love

Progress is Progress

 Earlier this week we had some progress in this attempt to find help for my son.  Kate, from the facility I mentioned before called so we could take part in an intake meeting.  My son was there for it, as was his dad (my husband) which was so important.  The majority of the phone call she spoke with our son and he was very open and honest.  Some of it was incredibly hard to hear.  I know a lot of how he feels, because he does talk to me about it.  To hear it spoken out loud to another person, was heart-wrenching.  He admitted to the self-harm.  Since I had removed all of his access to box cutters and razor blades, he had resorted back to burning himself.  I had no idea he had begun doing this again, and the last time was only a week or so ago.  When pressed, he told us how he uses a lighter to heat up nails and then puts them on his arms.  

She also asked him more about the suicidal ideations.  She asked if he had a plan.  While it isn't a super complicated one, there is a way he would want to go about doing it.  It did bring a spark of hope when he said he knew if he did his mom, dad and siblings would miss him.  Which is why he hasn't.  I hope that he really truly does know how much we love him and couldn't be without him in our lives.  

To hear your child admit that they don't want to be alive, and the only reason they do hang on is because they don't want to hurt you, is one of the hardest things I think I have ever experienced.  It makes it so obvious that this ED is working so hard to take him.  His brain is encompassed in this haze of depression and fear of gaining weight.  

Last night for dinner I made nachos, he was at work so he didn't witness the making of the queso I made.  I love to watch cooking shows of all kinds and lately have been rather obsessed with Selena + Chef on HBOMax.  It gives me joy, its so real and fun to watch!  Yesterday morning I had watched the episode where she makes nachos with Chef Richard Blais.  I was inspired by it and decided to make grilled marinated steak nachos.  Let me tell you about this cheese sauce.  This queso.  4 cups of heavy cream, maybe half a brick of Velveeta, more if you like, and handfuls of shredded colby jack and mozzarella and melt it all down until it is so ooey gooey delicious you can't help but dip a chip in it before it even hits the table.  

Fast forward to this afternoon, I knew he had eaten nachos when he came home from work, a small bowl full.  He said to me he had barely eaten anything yesterday and while he had the nachos, he didn't think it had a lot of calories due to the size of the bowl.  I looked at him and simple said 4 CUPS OF HEAVY WHIPPING CREAM.  

This is what parents of kids with ED resort to.  We hide fat and ingredients in the foods we make.  We trick our kids into getting calories by any means possible.  I could tell by the look in his eyes he was upset by this reveal.  It may change how he eats the rest of the day today.  I am making an early Thanksgiving dinner since his dad leaves tomorrow to go back to his ship and shortly deploy.  You better believe I slathered the turkey in butter before it went in the oven, the mashed potatoes will be brimming with butter and cream, and cheese.  The gravy will be made from the drippings of the turkey.  And there will be pie.  

Deception by food.  Because we are fighting a battle for his life, and I plan to win.  

Much love

Genetics

 Research shows that genetics play a huge part in the development of an eating disorder.  In fact, if a mom or sister have anorexia, it is 12 times more likely another family member will develop it. 

 I wanted to share a little of my history with disordered eating today.  I was never anorexic per say.  If you had asked me when I was 16, if I thought I had an ED of some sort, I would have told you no.  I ate food, I wasn't purging, although a friend and I tried one night and were unsuccessful.  I did however go on strange diets trying to constantly be smaller and smaller in size.  It wasn't until a few days ago, when I was reading Life Without ED, by Jenni Schaefer, that I finally recognized the voice that I have had in my head for an eternity.  

My mother was constantly trying to lose weight.  Due to medications she was on, it was incredibly difficult, but it leaked into every aspect of our lives.  I remember being forced to go on 3-4 mile long walks every day with her, so I didn't gain weight, or so I could lose.  I obsessed over the size of my thighs, someone once told me I had a bubble butt.  I cried a lot over that one.  I was a teen in the era of models like Kate Moss, Shalom Harlow.  Tall, painfully thin.  I was neither of these things.  I was a 5'2 girl with 32D boobs and a butt.  Perfection would always be out of my reach.  When I was 16 and on a summer trip with my church youth group, I refused to eat anything and only drank 32 oz cups of soda a day.  I dropped weight like crazy and bragged about it to my friends.  Why didn't I see that as a size 3/5 back then, I was perfectly fine? 

The consistent voice in my head through all of that, and still comes out to scream at me? "You're fat and disgusting". "You'll never be as thin as your friends". "Why can't you just commit to eating next to nothing and working out all the time? Maybe then you could achieve the body you want". 

I decided to try doing KETO for a while.  Carbs were the devil.  If you eat them, you are hurting your body.  I joined several groups on Facebook that touted the glory of being able to follow a KETO diet to the letter.  I felt amazing when I conquered the desire to eat bread or sugar.  If I slipped? I beat myself up.  Carbs and sugar would make me fat, so I had no business eating it, I wasn't one of those lucky naturally thin individuals, so I didn't deserve those things.  I would say with such pride, "I don't eat sugar, I don't even want it any more".  Looking down on those who were not strong enough to say no to the white crystalline demon.  This lasted about 2-3 years.  

As an adult, I came to realize I had Body Dysmorphia.  It didn't matter how I looked, all I saw in the mirror was myself, grossly overweight.  It haunted me.  It wasn't until about 4 years ago, I had a tummy tuck done, and I still felt overweight, but when I saw a photo of myself, that was the FIRST time I ever saw what my body actually looked like.  And yet I still struggle with that.  

I have come to realize, that food is food.  There is no good or bad food.  Bread is not a villain.  Poptarts are not evil.  Broccoli and bacon deserve room on my table.  Unfortunately, this realization is not genetic.  Eating disorders, disordered eating, are.  I passed mine to my oldest child.  And I am sure mine came from past generations of the same fears and need to be perfect.  

Now I try to take what I am learning, have learned, and help my son get through this. I had him finally sit down with his dad, (he is in the military, so he comes home whenever he can), and really share what was going on.  How he felt daily, where his mind goes.  It is scary, to witness this fully grown ED, speak through him. To hear him shout out, "I WILL NEVER BE FAT AGAIN".  ED has come to believe it is part of our family, ingrained in our genetic makeup.  We have to find a way to let "him" know he will never be welcome here.  

Much love. 

Beyond

 I am becoming beyond frustrated with this process.  We came across a facility for my ANS17 that seemed to be the perfect fit.  It was an intensive out patient program, local to our home, and he would be there 5 days a week and be able to sleep at home.  I feel like this is so important to his therapy and well-being as he and I are close and he has been very open with sharing with me where he is at and how he feels.  

He is not in a great place.  He is angry any time his weight goes up, he hates how his face appears round to him.  But his health is spiraling.  Chest pains, trouble breathing, incredible fatigue.  All of these go hand in hand with an ED.  

I was on the phone today with the lovely admissions person, Kate at a facility here in Florida. I reached out because the Alliance For Eating Disorders recommended this particular agency.  Our initial discussion was incredibly positive, and for the first time in several weeks I felt a ray of hope.  As requested I sent in all our insurance information, and then waited for it to be cleared.  A few hours later I received a call, telling me otherwise.  Again, Kate was incredibly helpful, she wants us to find a way to make this work.  For my son to get the help he so desperately needs.  However, our insurance came up as a HMO instead of a PPO and thus requires us to call and get them to switch it to something they will take, or complain until they grant us a single case reprieve.  I'm looking at you TRICARE.  

So now we sit. On the phone, hoping to get someone to listen to us.

In the meantime, I am wondering SO MANY THINGS.  Why was I not born independently wealthy?? WHY is it so difficult to find the help we need? Why on earth would someone withhold care from a child who needs mental health intervention? Why is mental health in our country, maybe just our state, just out of our reach?  I am feeling incredibly desperate at this point.  

It is a huge part of the reason why I am going to pursue my Masters in Mental Health Counseling, I want to create a facility that will reach boys and men in the same position as my son, who need help and can't find help.  And when their insurance won't cover it, or it runs out, that we can provide funding for them, to help them heal and conquer their ED.  This is my dream.  Consider making it yours.  

Directions

 It has been a little while since I have last posted, I really hate feeling like I am repeating myself.  This road is long and hard.  Its going to be, that is without question.  However, the lack of resources for someone in our position is astounding. Harping on it doesn't help.  You know what does help? Doing something about it.  

As I have mentioned before, my bachelors degree is in Psychology.  I graduated Summa Cum Laude, yep I am bragging here a little bit, about a year ago.  A couple of friends asked me if I was going to work on my Masters degree after that.  I said no.  NO.  I finished my degree in 3.5 years (I double majored in Creative Writing and Psychology, no stop, you're amazing) I was exhausted, I had just gotten my real estate license.  Ok, yes, I am an overachiever and I am sure there is something there psychological to unpack.  It didn't sound so crazy in my head, but there it is.  

So, now a year later, my kids overheard me talking to someone and semi counseling them. Not purposely, it just happens sometimes.  And they asked me, why wasn't I a therapist? This sparked an idea, re-sparked a thought.  What could I do with my Bachelors degree.  Nothing? Ok.  What could I do to ACTUALLY do something? Masters degree? Ok, yeah that's doable.  I did a little searching, filled out a form for more information, and received a phone call in less than 5 minutes. Man, SNHU is on top of things. What it boiled down to, was there is a Masters program for Mental Health Counseling, 60 hours, + intern hours, + practicum hours.  I could actually do this.  I can do this. 

I thought about it.  I mean, I really thought about this.  But you know what? It makes sense.  Yes, its a lot of work, yes, there will probably be a thesis involved.  I already know what it will be on, Anorexia in boys and men.  I am planning a documentary about this.  The amount of information revolving around the male gender when it comes to eating disorders is so incredibly lacking, its insane.  I want to change that.  I want to create resources.  I want other parents in our position to be able to find therapy and treatment and feel hope.  

We don't have that just yet.  Hope is a hard word to come by in our vocabulary.  I want to make sure other families after us have more hope than they could have imagined.  And while I can't counsel my own child, that would be a conflict of interests, I want to give others what we had to work so hard to find.  

Much Love.  

In Flux

 It has been a couple of days since my last post.  I have joined two groups on Facebook for parents and caregivers of children with eating disorders.  One of the phrases I have noticed mentioned often, is "Two steps forward and one step back". Not that I haven't ever heard or even used this phrase before, I have more than likely even said it.  But never has it meant more than it does right now.  

While we search for someone, anyone, to help my son, I am reading everything I can. So in the mean time I can try and implement what I have learned.  I have mentioned in my bio that my degree is in psychology, something I pursued simply because of some of the things my mother was going through, and not many people saw what was going on.  I wanted to understand, and find someone to listen so those circumstances could change.  

I cook a lot anyway, but this past week I have dug deep and have been creating some of my kids favorite meals.  Meals loaded with heavy cream, and cheese, some hidden veggies.  The one that my AN (how I am going to refer to Anorexia from here on out) son loves, is Chicken Alfredo.  I make the sauce from scratch, its rich and delicious, and if you ask nicely I may share it with you in another post.  Seasoned and grilled chicken, and pasta.  It is always a huge hit.  So much so in fact, I watched my son eat three bowls. I told him I was so happy to see him eating, and his answer? "Your Chicken Alfredo is amazing, I have to eat it". The next day he asked if he could make the French Silk pie I taught him a few years ago. OF COURSE.  Of course you can make a French Silk pie. Full of chocolate, butter, sugar, eggs, whipped into this silky chocolate dream in a graham cracker crust.  And then to watch him happily eat some of it?  We had a good couple of days.  

Now about 5 days ago, he had managed to get his weight down to 119.  This is incredibly low for a teenage boy who is a little over 5'8.  A healthy weight would be 160 or so.  He was so happy to see that number on the scale.  It terrified me.  Through him being home, watching what he ate and making delicious foods, I managed to get him up to 125.  Not great, but it was progress. Progress is important.  That number needs to go up. When they reach a healthy weight, a weight above when they began this downward spiral, its called "Weight Restored" or WR. Every parent and caregiver wants to hear those magic words, weight restored.  Seeing 125 on the scale was extremely upsetting for him.  Now we are back down to 120, in a matter of days.  The less he weighs, the more erratic he is.  The more unstable his mind is.  He struggles to not waver when he walks.  To carry on a full conversation without stopping multiple times to find his train of thought.  Two steps forward and one step back.  This time however, it feels more like two steps back.  

Much love.

Lifeline

 The search continues.  I feel like this occupies my thoughts day and night.  I reached out to my son's school counselors last night through email.  They responded this morning, helpful, without shaming him for not being in a mental state to attend school right now. There were also links listed for further information and resources.  Not all helpful to our situation, but it's a start in the right direction.  

I had dug around on the Tricare website again yesterday, turning up a daunting list of 30 more psychotherapists in our area. I use the word area lightly, some were 30-40 miles away. Not all specialize in eating disorders, which to me is important.  Yes, he needs help with his depression, and self-harm, but because AN is a disease that effects the brain, the first thing that needs to be addressed is helping him to re-feed himself. The human brain is about 60% fat, without healthy fats feeding your brain, it isn't going to function properly.  An unfed brain doesn't see the need to stop the harmful habits, it encourages them to continue them, feeds the self harm and fights tooth and nail to stay in control.  So getting a person suffering from AN to a healthy weight is imperative so therapy can be effective.  

My latest adventure in the search for help brought me to a Tricare approved virtual therapy website.  I filled out the form to request an appointment.  What I got was "The responses you gave lead us to believe you need a higher level of care than we can provide you".  There was a promise to search my area and call me.  And while I wait, here is a list of websites you probably are already aware of to look at if you need help....

I completely understand that the moment you mention self-harm, or severe depression, they do not want to be held liable if something happens.  But being told they will call you at some unknown point to offer help when you are already struggling to find the help needed, well, it feels like a let down.  

I don't know if we are in a place where he would be taken seriously if I tried to Baker Act him.  Its something we have talked about.  His heart rate is lower, than I think it should be, 47bpm while he slept last night, during the day 57-65 unless he stands, then it sky rockets.  A low temperature is another indication, he is fairly normal in that aspect. Although today it is lower than yesterday. He is incredibly forthcoming when he talks to me about how he is doing, how he feels, what the AN is doing to him.  When he talks to others, he glosses it over, so it doesn't seem as dramatic.  

We are still looking for that lifeline.

Much Love

Hungry

 Everyone always talks about women or girls when it comes to an eating disorder.  You can search and search on every streaming channel out there, and maybe come up with two that pertain to men or boys.  And why am I looking for these? Why am I searching for this subject matter?  Because my oldest son, who is 17 years old, is Anorexic.  It is hard to know what to think or where to go for help.  You can find centers for eating disorders, however, the majority of them are for women.  

I think we all know what Anorexia Nervosa is at this point.  Its calorie counting, in an unhealthy manner, its restrictive eating, or not eating at all.  The point my son is at, is keeping his calorie count under 1000 for the day.  If he does eat something he enjoys, the next day he eats barely anything.  There is a lot of guilt that surrounds a person struggling with an eating disorder.  Guilt for what they eat, guilt for feeling guilty.  

On top of this, or maybe hand in hand with this, comes depression and anxiety.  To make it more interesting, there is self harm.  It was cutting for a while, then burning, then back to cutting.  

When you find out your child is struggling with an eating disorder, you want to ask all the questions.  At least I did.  How on earth did I miss this? When did it begin? How long has it been going on? Why doesn't anyone have much to say about boys in this situation? Our particular situation is the results of a chubby 12-14 yr old boy, who hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, and endured a lot of teasing and shaming for his weight from kids at school.  In response, he learned to hate what he saw.  Abhor it even.  Then he grew, quite a bit. He hit 5'8 and thinned out.  And kept thinning out.  He also inherited my body dysmorphia.  He looks in the mirror and still hates what he sees.  Critiques every inch, and deems it unworthy.  

Now we search for help.  I may have mentioned earlier its hard to find.  We have GREAT insurance.  For the most part.  Ok, we have Tricare.  To those who don't know, as a military family, we are covered medically. Until you aren't.  I have called, and emailed, and reached out.  Our first conversation with a pediatrician in our doctors office, there wasn't a lot of honesty on my son's part, but all that was suggested was a nutritionist.  This doesn't even begin to delve into the mental pain and anguish that accompanies an eating disorder.  I scheduled a tele-visit with his actual physician, and he was honest.  However, and here is the fun part, it was entirely up to me to find someone, anyone, anything, make sure they take Tricare, call our doctors office back, and wait for them to send in a referral to our insurance company, and then wait for a letter in the mail.  

Guess who can't find a psycho-therapist or a residential center who takes our insurance, or is taking new patients?  Now I have a new list of 30 therapists and psychologists to call and find one who not only takes Tricare, but takes Tricare East, which apparently makes a difference.  

Here is the point of all of this.The point of this first post on this blog.  It shouldn't be this hard to find help.  It shouldn't be this hard to reach someone to help my son not starve himself to death.  This morning I watched the documentary, Thin on HBOMAX.  All women and teenage girls. Heartbreaking.  Painful.  I cried through most of it.  Some of the patients, their insurance ran out, so they were forced to leave.  To figure it out on their own.  To battle a disease that has the highest mortality rate of any mental illness.  One more thing to worry about.  One more thing to imagine.  

I am hoping, by writing about this journey, sharing our struggles and pain, now and what is to come, sharing any resources and info that I can, that I can somehow make boys and men with an eating disorder, not such a mythical beast that most people will tell you don't exist.  

Much Love