Con Te Partiro

If only my time in Florida was more like a vacation and less like jail. That's rehab for ya....

I thought I'd be the heaviest person there. I'd envisioned a bunch of hungry cranky skeletons playing poker on folding chairs in a dank room with a stash of tampons, cigarettes, chewing gum and adderall as playing chips.

I imagined being in a facility full of ghosts and when I got there I met vibrant, smiling girls who I never would have guessed had an eating disorder.

I didn't eat the first meal. Not because I didn't want to, I thought it was gross. It was called a Renfrew Salad. It had all kinds of weird crap in it, like onions and corn and peas and lettuce and I dont remember exactly what else. I just didn't want it. It looked like vomit. I was sure the vomit was plentiful in a place like that. In my head I tried to laugh at my joke. But in my head, I was scared to death. Scared to life.

Mara, the girl who was the welcome committee told my husband that it was time to say "See you later." I noticed she did not say goodbye. I suppose they thought goodbye was too emotional. I could appreciate the effort but I was still emotional.

He hugged me and said see you later. I watched him walk away until Maura took my tray and asked how the food was. I hadn't touched it. She didn't really expect an answer. I am pretty sure no one eats the first meal.

She took me and said it was time to move into my room. I didn't cry. I didn't feel.

I was moved into the first room next to the team center, where all the nurses and therapists were. I was never clear about whether it was just the only room open or if I really needed to be watched.

My suitcases were dumped upside down onto the bed while two staff members went through every pocket, examined every bra, every pair of panties. They took away my razors, my eyeliner sharpener, my eyelash curler, my hand sanitizer, my antibacterial soap, and my Dr. Pepper flavored chapstick.

I was very upset about my Dr. Pepper chapstick. It was confiscated because it resembled food. I had my first meltdown. After promising not to eat the chapstick, not to share the chapstick, not to fantasize about the chapstick and then reiterating how rediculous it was that I couldn't have the DP flavored chapstick I raised the white flag and conceded. What choice did I have? I was also annoyed that my bath and body works antibacterial sanitizer and soap were taken. It was because of the alcohol content in them. I promised not to drink them. Gross! (Who does that?)

And I was uber pissed about my chapstick. Melanie had given it to me as a Christmas present. She knew I loved Dr Pepper. Everyone did. It reminded me of home. It tasted like Dr. Pepper. It was comfort.

They took it away anyway, along with my soap , my "sharp" items and my curling and straightening irons.

I was pissed.

They left me with the mess to clean up after they took everything away. So far, rehab wasn't too different from my normal life.

I put everything away and realized I didn't have a key to my room. I went to the team center to ask for a key and was informed we weren't allowed to lock the door. I also had a roommate, but I hadn't met her yet. The colorful poster on the door was decorated with stickers and spelled her name "Leanne" in a rainbow of glitter.

A glance down the hall confirmed that every door boasted a glittery uplifting sign declaring its inhabitants. I decided I did not want a damn sign. There would be no glittery bullshit sign if I had anything to do with it. I wanted to get better and leave and no amount of crayola and glitter was going to make it any easier.

I was expected at dinner in an hour, so I went back in my room, curled up in the fetal position in all of my clothes , shoes and all and I put my face in my hands and stayed that way. The room was arctic. I had brought a teacup quilt that my mother had made, but it was folded at the foot of the bed. I couldn't summon the energy to put it over myself and I didn't feel like I deserved to be warm anyway. I knew I looked pathetic lying there. I felt pathetic.

The door opened and I shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep so I could avoid conversation with who I assumed to be Leanne, the sign on the door promised was my roommate. Roommie sounded too upbeat. Cell mate was more like it.

Too lazy to shiver, I stared at nothing and let my mind regress into the kind of fuzz you see when there is no station set. There was no station set in my head. My dial had been taken away. Where was this place going to steer me? Would I ever go home?