Meetup at Pegasus

Meetup at Pegasus

My alarm went off at 0300 am. Begrudgingly, I slowly crawled out of bed and quickly got ready before packing a few last-minute toiletries for my flight. Yet again, I was on my way to another treatment center for my eating disorder, anorexia. This time I would admit to the eating disorder unit at Pegasus Medical Center in New Jersey. This would be my first stay at this particular center. For a while I have felt like a dilapidated old boat trying to stay afloat in a raging ocean storm. I decided that it was now necessary for me to get additional help and find myself a yacht! 

During the dreadful and anxiety provoking flight, I realized that I was in significant denial about my health and situation. I never was in a boat of safety. Instead, I was strongly adhered to my life saver in an effort to survive the mountainous waves and stabbing rain of the raging ocean’s turmoil. It took the reality of flying to a treatment center for the 11^th time to understand that despite my life saver, I was always a sinking useless boat.  During my flight, I thought about my life, how at 31 years old, I am in multi-organ failure for the third time and unable to walk more than a few feet without my heart exploding out of my chest and gasping for air. When I buckled myself into the uncomfortable airplane seat before takeoff, I set the goal to prevail. Steadfast on reaching the shore safely this time, and not die from something I thought was going to help me survive, I took a deep breath in and set my mind for the hardships ahead.

I arrived at Pegasus Medical Center mid-morning with my life saver still in hand. Although determined to make it to shore, I wasn’t ready to completely let go of what has allowed me to survive through so many storms. I was great a surviving, but when it came to living, I didn’t have the slightest idea of how to do it. It was a matter of self-confidence and fear. I did not believe I would ever make it to the shore after having numerous relapses. I was also afraid of what awaited me at shore. Would it be what I hope it to be or will it be worse? 

I entered the eating disorder unit tied to an IV pole and strapped down into a wheelchair. I always seemed to have a knack for dramatic entrances and this was no exception. While waiting at the nurse’s station to be brought back for some medical testing, the most exciting, yet unexpected event occurred. Suddenly, my longtime friend Sarah, and previous roommate from another treatment center, walked out of the main group room. We both gave each other the “OMG is this real?” stare and then embraced with a long overdue comforting hug. Next thing I knew, the comfort of her hug was over and I was facing yet another friend and past treatment roommate (Liana) that I had spoken to on and off over the years. This was a shock to me. How is it possible to run into two friends that I met from different treatment at the same time and place several years later? It was like a mini roommate reunion. Liana and I gave each other a warm embrace before the nurse wheeled me away for my medical testing. 

It was nice and encouraging to be at an unfamiliar treatment center during a difficult time in my life, with two kind, compassionate, and supportive friends. The process of escaping the most dangerous area of a strengthening hurricane is a bit easier and less lonely when you have people you know you can count on. Although grateful to see them there, it made me sad that they too were still holding onto their life savers. We all came for a reason though, to slowly let go of our life savers and swim back to the safety of the shore. The shore is something we all like to call recovery. 

The days were long, uncomfortable, and time never seemed to move, but spending the time with my friends made everything just a little less miserable. We hung out in the group room, gossiped in the hallway, and cried with each other. Unfortunately, Sarah, who was finally beginning to learn how to let go of her life saver, became more fearful of her journey back to the shore. She caved into the pressure of what the toxic people in her life wanted her to do. In such a fragile state, she was easily persuaded by her demons. I kept trying to encourage her to let go of what was actually holding her back from safety. Despite verbalizing my concerns and encouraging her to stay, there was nothing I could do sway her decision. 

As she left the unit, she entered back into the raging sea. My friend Liana and I were very worried for her, as we have both experienced what it is like to take hold of our life savers and turn back to the angry tides. 

The sea is always patiently waiting, ready to pull you under, drown you, and swallow you whole. It's currents are dangerously strong. Liana and I could only hope that Sarah would realize that freeing herself from her life saver, at whatever paced she needed to, would sail her to calmer waters. If she reached those calmer waters, she wouldn’t have to focus on not trying to drown, instead she would be practicing how long she could tolerate swimming around her life saver until she no longer needed it at all. Liana and I still remain at Pegasus Medical Center in our attempts to let go; however, it is a difficult process. We can only continue our journey to shore and hope that Sarah will soon find the strength and confidence she desperately needs to save herself.