Dr. Gordon was in rare form yesterday. Usually she just lets me start off on whatever I feel like venting about but yesterday she was all taking out her notes from the session with my parents last week, asking me if I talked at all to them about how it went.
"My mom approves of you I think."
"Did she saying anything about what we discussed?"
"Ummm.... she mentioned that you thought I should get a psychiatrist about the meds. Oh, and she loves your wallpaper."
"Is that it? Okay, then I guess they're leaving me to do their dirty work." At this I started getting extremely agitated and defensive, demanding (gently of course) to know what they said about me, insisting she tell me everything my mom said and begged she wouldn't leave anything out. Haha Dr. Gordon was like, "Wow, you're really worried about what they think of you. Do you really not know what they might be concerned about?" I explained to Dr. Gordon that my dad, though wonderful and funny and loving, doesn't really do the whole talking and sharing personal stuff gag, while my mom will often point out areas that she wants me to work on, like dressing in clothes that actually fit me and getting more comfortable with sharing personal space- whatever that means. "Well I think they see how much you don't like your body, and they notice how much you isolate yourself from everyone." Well, this I already knew, so that was a relief. I thought she was going to say something like, "Your parents wish you'd just leave already and get your ass back in school," or "Your mom thinks that you need to lose some of the binge weight." What was surprising to learn however, is that my parents are afraid of me. Apparently they're hesitant to talk to me about stuff because they think I'll be so overcome with emotion that I'll fall into a depression or fly into a fit of rage and slash my wrists open. I added that last part but you get the idea. I feel so bad! I mean, yes I'd prefer to keep my problems to myself and work on them alone and without the "support" of my family, but that doesn't mean they need to tip toe around me! Jesus. Do I come off that volatile? Then she said she thought it would be really good if all of us could have a meeting together- just me and my parents and her. She's brought this up before though so it didn't take me entirely by surprise. It was funny though, at the moment she was saying this, I was taking a sip of water and then all at once started choking on it and she was like, "So I guess you're still not up for it?" I assured her the idea of having a session with all of us was absolutely out of question and possibly the scariest and most anxiety producing experience I could ever imagine. Then she was like, "Okay, but I'm not giving up on this." Great.
You know what else she brought up that was totally and completely unexpected? She asked if I ever though about doing a review of the outpatient program. At first I didn't know quite what she meant.
"A review?" I asked. "Like go on a journey back in time to last year and mentally revisit everything I learned?" I imagine it would be similar to what happened to Scrooge in a Christmas Carol- going back and seeing himself as an innocent little boy, apprentice to the jolly Fezziwig. When viewed in this light, the idea actually sounded kind of cool.
"Or...," she said, raising her eyebrows at me as she would at a moron, "you could actually go back."
I was silent for a few seconds and then I said, "Why? I'm not bingeing nearly as often as I used to, and I'm following a meal plan more faithfully than I ever have in my entire life!" I was offended and hurt really, at her suggestion. Then she explained that it's BECAUSE I'm doing so well that it might be good to have the extra support. That way it might ensure that the recovery sticks nice and tight.
"You're really anxious right now, and it's probably because you're adjusting to life without behaviors. Going back, even if it's just for the evening IOP program, might be a really good idea."
I told her I'd think about it, but I don't know what to think.