The need for filibuster reform has never been so clearly demonstrated.
“The amendment failed 54 to 46…”
“That measure also failed, 52 to 48.”
“…to crack down on trafficking failed 58 to 42.”
It’s absolutely disgusting. This is not democracy, regardless of your feelings on this issue.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost
It’s been a while since I’ve updated, really just due to the rollercoaster ride that the last couple of months have been.
I “graduated” from the PHP program at Eating Recovery Center on October 16th and returned to work on October 25th. I was back to work for about a week before my grandmother died and I flew home for her funeral. Her death wasn’t entirely unexpected, we had a little bit of warning. She was also suffering from Alzheimer’s for the past nine years, and we were losing her slowly, then more rapidly the last 3 years or so. I am sad she is gone, and I am sad for my grandfather, a second time widower.
A week after getting back to work from my bereavement leave I got strep throat and was out for another week. Today marks my first full week of work in what seems like 6 months.
I’m currently outpatient at ERC, meeting with a therapist weekly, a psychiatrist monthly, and a dietitian when I can fit it in/afford it.
It hasn’t been very easy getting back into the “real world”, I have to admit. I miss the stability and the structure. I miss my friends. It’s also quite an experience being surrounded all day, every day with people who love you unconditionally and are fully dedicated to your recovery. I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to focus on my thoughts, my feelings and my needs, as I did. It’s not something I think most of us make time for in our day to day lives. That sounds kind of absurd and selfish to say, but, it’s not. It’s absolutely the way it should be.
Forward, with lots and lots of gray. I’m done with black and white.
Well, here I am two days before my final day at ERC. I am finishing up my second week of Transitional Intensive Outpatient. Tuesday is officially my last day at this level of care. From here, I will move on to outpatient, meeting with a therapist weekly, and a psychiatrist and nutritionist monthly.
I really can’t believe I’ve been here for almost two months! This experience was obviously life-changing and something that, in the end, I am extremely grateful for. If I am completely honest, I am scared shitless. It’s one thing to stick to a meal plan, abstain from behaviors and reach out for support when you’re surrounded by knowledgeable, understanding people all day, every day. The real world is another story.
IOP has given me some time to “fend for myself”, and it’s been up and down. I know my weaknesses, I know what to look for, and I fully intend to continue kicking this fucking eating disorder’s ass.
I’ve said goodbye to a couple of close friends this week. Libby graduated on Thursday, and I am so incredibly proud of her. She was here for almost four months and worked her ass off. She’s incredibly beautiful, and I hope she gets closer every day to realizing that. She’s definitely missed.
The biggie this week was saying goodbye to Carmen. We were a duo, according to anyone here. It was never just Beau or just Carmen, it was always “Beau and Carmen”. This place is not the same without her, and a little piece of my heart has gone home to Albuquerque. I will hopefully see her again before the year is up, the current plan is to drive down to New Mexico with Leah for Thanksgiving at Carmen’s place. Family of choice, as is often said around here, and when it comes to that, I’m a lucky guy.
I’m going to need support beyond here, and I hope that those of you who have followed my posts will be there. Hold me accountable, ask me for updates, find out how I’m doing.
I’ll be posting more details about my plans post-treatment soon, but for now, I’m off to write a stack of “thank you” cards!
This week I find myself saying goodbye to two more friends. Ashley Bryan and Nicole Ferency both lost their battles with eating disorders and depression this week. Ashley died on October 1st, and Nicole last night (October 4th) in Denver after leaving the ERC for the day.
I am stunned. Even typing this, I feel like I don’t know what to say, but I feel like I need to get it out.
Ashley was 26 years old and I got to know her over my first couple of weeks at the ERC. She was a warrior, she was committed to recovery, and she was everyone’s biggest cheerleader. My heart breaks for her husband and family. At the ERC we all have primary therapists, and the patients who share the same primary therapist form what we call a Process Group. We meet three times a week for an hour and 15 minutes, talk about how we’re feeling, and provide support to each other. My particular Process Group is extremely close, and Ashley was a part of our group until she graduated from treatment. The loss has been almost too much too process. Still can’t believe she is gone.
Nicole was 35 years old and had been battling her eating disorder and severe depression for a very long time. She and I bonded when she found out that I was gay and wanted to open a dialogue and get to know me better in hopes that our friendship would help her connect with her gay father. I am so sad that we won’t be able to have anymore of those conversations. She was so genuine and open when she approached me with that request. Her desire to feel like her family was whole again was of so much importance to her. She spoke of her family often, and I am devastated thinking about all of them. I am planning to find a way to attend her funeral on Monday. What a beautiful person, what a loss.
The mood around the ERC right now feels pretty similar to a funeral home. It’s just too much to take in. The staff are all stunned, but doing an amazing job being available to us. The CEO of the center has been in this field for 33 years and has not lost a patient at this level of treatment. It just isn’t a normal thing. This week is just overwhelming.
I originally intended to blog a little update about my insurance issues, so, I will briefly. I am no longer in the PHP program and am now in Transitional Intensive Outpatient (4 hours a day vs 12) because my insurance company has chosen to disregard the medical advice of my treatment team in favor of their profits. My doctors fought extremely hard for me, but they were unable to get more time for me. My insurance, Magellan Health Services, contracted by my primary provider Aetna, would rather see me relapse, continue with an eating disorder, or even die, before cutting into their profits any further.
I won’t go on a political rant, but this is why healthcare should not be for profit. I’m a negative on a balance sheet to them, and my life is meaningless. Before she died, Nicole’s insurance had just denied her an increased level of care as well. Fuck you health insurance. You’re scum, and we’re idiots to allow and vote for such a system to exist.
I’m a whirlwind of emotions right now. I miss my friends, I wish I had been there to remind them how loved they were before they made the decision, and I just wish I could remove all the pain from all of the people grieving these losses. We will get through this. I will get through this, and I will live a rich and meaningful life. I just wish that Nicole, Ashley, Jesse, and Dustin were all living it with me.
Goodnight sweet friends.