MISSING: Chapter 9

MISSING

Chapter 9: Der Schwer Gefasste Entschluss

 

The vomit. The bending forward. The implosion. The explosion. The vomit. The speckles on the under-rim of the toilet seat. The curly black pubic hair. The girls who fuck strangers with the toilet seat down. The cloud of toilet paper that protects the right hand. The toilet paper that pretends to protect her right hand. The door that pretends to shield the nasty secret. The storekeeper who pretends not to notice the scrawny girl using the bathroom and always continuing to use the bathroom. The co-peers and co-workers and co-others that pretend not to notice or who do not ask and do not care or do not notice. The sister who consumes the scars silently. The mother who angers and the father who fears. The parents who hesitate. The individual who hates herself.

 

***

MISSING: Chapter 8

MISSING

Chapter 8: Wenn Es Muss Sein!

She hates herself. She truly believes that she is unequal to everyone else. She is envious of everyone and everything. She would rather be the hairbrush of one of her classmates than to be herself. This perverse inclination towards self-hate and self-destruction defies almost all of the presumptions above.

If I hate myself than I am not equal to you. If I am not equal to you, then all individuals cannot be equal.

If I am unequal to all others, people will not like me as well as others.

If I am unequal to all others, but make an attempt to appear equal to all others, people will probably like me more than if I made no attempt to hide my inequality.

If I am unequal to all others, I will be inherently unlike, unfamiliar, and unattractive to all others, and people will feel uncomfortable around me.

If I am unequal to all others and unlike all others, then inherently I cannot affirm the self of all others completely. If I am unequal to all others, I can only affirm my self. People may inherently consider me selfish for affirming my self as opposed to their self.

People take offense to selfishness because it proposes that one individual is unequal to all others. People feel more comfortable with equality (see #4).

All people are egocentric. All people are rooted in the unique perspective of being their self. Aha! So if I am different, then by affirming my self I can affirm the part in all individuals that are different from all individuals.

There can be many truths.

What can be true for one person may not be true for another person; this is due to the power of perspective. The null hypothesis here concludes that what can be true for one person – I am unequal to all others – may not be true for another person. 

Herein lies the danger of drifting too far away from the mean perspective on individuality.

Altruism is egocentric and rooted in the perspective that all people are equal and that all people have equal probability of finding any fate. One person has a statistically equal chance of being any one person with any one fate. 

If any given fate that befalls one individual could just as easily befall onto another individual, AND if I believe that I am unequal to others, I may believe that I have a statistical bias for receiving a certain fate. 

If I am unequal to all others I can believe my fate to be unequal to all others'. If I am unequal to all others while all others are equal to everyone else, then I am an outsider. 

If I do not want to be an outsider, than this is unfair that I was born into a life in which despair is my situation. If I do not want to be unequal and yet I am unequal to all others – for better or worse – my situation will be despair.

If altruism is based on the assumption that all individuals are equal, and all individuals have a statistically equal chance of befalling one fate, then I have no reason to be altruistic to anyone but myself if my fate is lesser or worse or unequal to others'. 

In a given situation, I will allow myself to think, “Woe is me. I physically attract doom and ill will. Therefore I am best – and all are best – if I invest all of my efforts into myself only.

And thus one individual closes out all others, believing the own self to be unequal to all other selves. And all other selves are warranted to begrudge the individual who believes the specific individual self to be worthy of salvation from all other selves. 

All other individuals may continue to believe that all individuals are equal, and so all individuals will continue to be equal in 99% of all instances in the universe. Thus our individual who believes him or herself to be unequal of all others commits a fraudulence of universal proportions. 

The individual who believes it’s specific self to be unequal to all other individuals' creates a truth where no truth previously existed. 

The individual creates a truth from a different truth. 

The individual creates a lie. 

The individual is cosmically dishonest. 

The individual is sin, or is the individual misinterpreted?

***

Neuroanatomist Jill Bolte Taylor, Ph.D. writes of a schizophrenic brother, “I [want] to understand why I [can] take my dreams and connect them to reality and make my dreams come true. What [is] different about my brother’s brain such that he [cannot] connect his dreams to a common reality and they instead become delusions?” (My Stroke of Insight: A brain scientist’s personal journey, 2006, Viking Press, New York, NY).

MISSING: Chapter 6 (III)

MISSING
Chapter 6: Es muss sein (Pt. III)

In fifth grade at her new school the students have a play day at the local community center. The gym and pool areas are reserved for the students. The whole day is a field trip to the community center to swim and play. There are lunches in white paper bags with turkey, ham, or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. There is a snack bar and they can buy Doritos if they bring 65 cents. She has a history of not eating the Cool Ranch Doritos. They used to be her favorite, but her Dad says they have monosodium glutamate in them. He says this can give people headaches, and he must be proud of her for not eating them. She is marvelously disciplined when she insists that she does not eat them, that they give her headaches. She sounds smart when she blames the monosodium glutamate. She can, however, have the Nacho Cheese kind. She read the ingredients list of both flavors of chips in homeroom. The Nacho Cheese kind has monosodium glutamate listed, but it is listed much farther down in the ingredients. “There is a very small amount,” she says; these do not give her headaches.

A bonfire portion of her heart revels in the opportunity to distinguish herself. Another flame ignites at the opportunity to choose between turkey, ham, or peanut butter and jelly. She chooses peanut butter and jelly. Or vegetable. She does not eat turkey or ham. She is proud of this. Her mother does not eat turkey or ham. Or meat. No meat. When she is about 9 her father orders Salmon on a mountain vacation. The area is known for its Salmon, and the father is excited to share this with his daughters. He will connect it to a lesson and take them to the fish hatchery on the drive home. The fish is prepared whole. It is cooked whole, and it is served with the head on. The eyeball, or at least the eye socket is visible. She does not want to eat the fish. The meat is pink and the fish smells funny. It looks scaly and the meat is pink. She does not want to eat the fish. The father in his loving manner encourages her with hints of “you-will-be-a-wimp-if-you-don’t,” and, “make-me-proud,” in his voice. He prepares a bite for her; the little sister dauntingly steps up and tries. “It’s good,” she says, “try it.”

The father prepares another bite. The fish smells. The meat is pink and silver-scaly. The meat is chewy. She runs outside and vomits on the lawn in front of the restaurant. A few vacationers sit in sun chairs and scoff at her production. She wipes her mouth. No one cares. No one comes. She goes back inside and the lodge is warm and scaly. It smells like must and musk and fish. She runs back outside and vomits. She is crying. She walks back inside and no one cares. Her sister tries another bite of fish. The father asks her if she wants another bite. She says she just threw up outside. Nothing happens. The father teases her that she didn’t even try the fish. Her father teases her that she didn’t like the eye. She continues to cry inside.
****

The next week she swears off meat. She is a vegetarian. Her mother tells her at dinner that if she is a vegetarian she cannot have fish sticks. A pause. The mother tells her some vegetarians don’t eat meat, but still eat fish. But she hates fish. Fish is the reason she is a vegetarian. She does not want fish sticks. And like that the benefits outweigh the risks. Everyone asks her, “don’t you miss meat ever?” After a few years she learns to entertain adults: “well once I was really really craving a bacon cheeseburger. It was so bad I swear I actually was looking around my house for change. I was ready to bike all the way to MacDonald’s!” her story ends there because she never did crave a bacon cheeseburger and she never did bike to MacDonald’s. However, this point in the story earns the approval she desires. Delight. She makes a mental note to remember to crave a bacon cheeseburger – or at least a cheeseburger – when she is at home sometime so she can at least look for change to bike to MacDonald’s.
***

She deserves this. She has earned this. Es muss sein! She always chooses the peanut butter and jelly or vegetarian sandwich lunch. A flicker of glee ignites and she subtly separates herself from the rest. “I don’t eat meat. I mean animals are nice, but I just don’t like how it tastes. I get sick when I eat it, because I am so sensitive. I am so special,” she explains happily.

The pool party play day at the community center is on a Thursday. She dreads it all week. Sometimes on Thursday mornings the father drives her to school; this Thursday is one of those mornings. She has privacy in her room during her time to get ready. She cannot get ready. Clothes do not jump out at her when she looks into the closet. She feels sick to her stomach. A grapefruit lump of dread pops up in her throat, and in her stomach, and in her heart. She cannot breathe. She is sick. She is sick! Es muss sein! She cannot go to the pool party play day. She is sick! She is sick! She won’t be missing any school. Her father is kind, and he will believe her since she will not be missing any school. She slumps and weakens her voice. She limps her face. She calls out “Dad” once or twice. The call is long but she yells it in a whisper. She trots downstairs. “Dad. I don’t feel well,” she says, “my stomach really hurts.” She holds her stomach with both hands.

Her forehead is not hot; her hands are not clammy. Most importantly, her eyes still shine in spite of themselves. This is a medical man. She is clearly not sick. The father says, “why don’t you lay don’t for a little bit and maybe you will feel better when it is time to go to school.”

She retreats upstairs and figures the time before she can trot back downstairs. “Dad. I still feel sick,” she says and holds her stomach with both hands. “I think I might throw up.”

“Naw,” he says. His voice is nice. There are hints of “come-on-now-be-honest,” “be-a-good-girl,” “it’s-okay-but-you’re-not-sick, come-on-now,” in his voice. “What’s wrong? Do you have a test? Do you want me to help you study?”

“I won’t even be missing anything,” she says. “We have a field trip at the community center all day,” she says, “so I can’t go to the nurse if I try to go and feel sick.”

“Oh-come-on-now,” he pulls her in. She cries.

“I have armpit hair and the kids will make fun of me,” she says. She is antsy and jumps up and down like she used to do when she had to go to the bathroom really bad.

He offers to teach her how to shave her underarms. She already knows how. Did she shave them this morning? She did. Well what’s the problem? “They’ll still know. No one else has any and they’ll see and make fun of me. Please, please don’t make me go.” Her speech is fast and she is pleading.
***

MISSING: Chapter 3

MISSING
Chapter 3: OUT OF HABIT

An observer can easily describe the situation: “oh, unfortunate.”

For her, having the additional burden of being the disadvantaged participant, the situation is unfair in addition to being unfortunate. Tragically unfair. Fate is unfair.

She vomits; kicking and thrashing, imploding into herself and into the toilet, into the sewage. Life is not fair. Life is not fair.

But women have such things as their pride to attend to. Who will admit at youth the most common of quandaries: I am vulnerable, I feel very vulnerable. Who moreover will do so openly and without any blame or fear of exposure: I am vulnerable and exposed. A flower in the wind has only one secret: to conceal its vulnerability to the wind.

What mother can receive such an observation from her delicate darling: “Mother, I am overexposed” – without feeling responsible.

What mother does not feel responsible for her child. What mother is not responsible for her child?

MISSING: Chapter 1

TITLE: MISSING
Dedication: For Katie, if you ever want to know.

Chapter 1: Der schwer gefasste Entschluss – the difficult resolution

Muss es sein? Es muss sein! Es muss sein! * >>see asterisk below<<<

She careens over the public toilet and explodes. Loads of vomit flood from her mouth. Her brain – armed with monotonous familiarity – seems disconnected for a time. She does not look at the vomit, or at the blotted stains on the underside of the toilet seat that can only be dried urine. This is a public restroom that provides rest to both sexes. The dark-colored pubic hair that curls at the rim of the toilet bowl is likely from a male. She wonders for a second at the crudity of such a public intimacy. How many others have used this room for their own respite? How many others have stowed away in this bathroom to shoot up or to steal an indiscreet cigarette? How many girls have sat on this toilet – with the seat down – and fucked a stranger? The public bathroom is a stowaway for stale transgressions of intimacy.

*Muss es sein? Es muss sein!" alludes to the Der schwer gefasste entschluss (the "difficult resolution) of the last movement of Beethoven's last quartet, which is based on the following two motifs "Muss es sein? Es muss sein! Ess muss sein!" In German this translates to "Must it be? It must be! It must be!"
****
Sometimes her vomit speckles the rim of the toilet seat. She cringes and violently grabs large wads of toilet paper to cloud around her hand before swiping around the under-rim of the toilet bowl. Disparity. She knows in one small flicker of her heart that this is too unsanitary to comprehend. Another flicker she calls common sense tells her this comes with the territory. She deserves this. She has earned this. Es muss sein!
***
A common childhood approximation for naming works of writing postulates that a title should: identify a main character who is introduced within the first 2 chapters; identify an object that has metaphorical significance to the plot; or identify a theme that is contributory to the plot. This was a very long – almost run-on – sentence. However, most works are generally allotted one handful of long, run-on sentences to sprinkle throughout a story IN ORDER to meet one of two criteria: to present a large amount of interconnected material in a way that connects the material; or to guise at vernacular.

This title – “Missing” – aims to defy the stipulates of childhood grammar. The title is ferociously rebellious. Following the above introduced approximation for naming works of writing, one may assume this story will identify the plot of a missing child. This is not the case. Nor does this story indicate the importance of any animate object or theme that is “missing” from the plot. However, this title is not so rebellious as it aims to be. This title is neither perverse nor progressive. And so we begin this story's tale.

Eating Disorders are Tough Shit! Did you know?

A friend from high school contacted me a while back; she noticed we had many friends in common from EDI. She shared with me that she was in treatment for an Eating Disorder.

She was cautious to approach the subject; if our mutual friends were a coincidence, I suppose this would create an awkward situation for her. What if I did not want to share my treatment experience with her, and did not respond?

I was actually very thankful to receive her story of treatment. I was reminded how sadly common eating disorders are.

I was reminded that I should not feel guilty for struggling with my eating disorder; Eating Disorders are tough shit!

Eating disorders are shrouded in isolation and secrecy; this is obviously harmful to an individual who is trying to hide an eating disorder; this is also harmful for others who struggle with eating disorders and who think they are alone and abnormal in their struggles.

EXAMPLE: When I was younger, I had an abscess on the bottom of my left foot. An abscess is a collection of pus that has accumulated in a cavity formed by the tissue on the basis of an infectious process or other foreign materials. Mine was from stepping on a nail. GROSS, right?!

When I walked I would further infect the abscess and it would drain. It smelled. Pretty gross, right, but what could I do? I had not chosen to step on a nail. I never chose for my foot to become infected. The abscess caused me to limp, and I had to take 2 weeks off from soccer; I missed my team's state meet. 

My abscess was gross, and it was grossly mentionable; however, it did not define me. To this day, my abscess does not define me. I don't even tell many people about it anymore because it no longer exists on my foot. It is so far in the past that it hardly relates.

Vomiting is grossly mentionable. It would be awkward to embark on a serious relationship with someone and not mention, "oh, but the way, I have a sickness where I vomit after every time I eat." Yuck - that's Gross! But vomiting does not define an eating disorder.

One might share something more definitive: "I am struggling right now with insecurities and obsessive thoughts. I have difficulty managing stress in my life." Who doesn't?

My boyfriend is not able to tolerate stress very well - he becomes crabby and isolates himself when he feels stressed out about work. He sometimes loses sleep over stress, and exercises less as a result. This is an unhealthy tolerance - it is also totally normal! Stress is tiring and difficult to tolerate.

As I become more mature, I care less about others' judgements. When I share a truth about myself - no matter how awkward or different my self-truth may be - most people admire me for my honesty.

Half-truths are a killer; I have a friend with an eating disorder who feels comfortable telling some close friends and family members that she has an eating disorder. However, she does not feel comfortable sharing with anyone the difficulty of her struggle. She does not feel comfortable sharing with others that she is struggling through something difficulty.

Why? More power to the individual who has something in life that is difficult to manage, and who continues to struggle to manage it nonetheless! Gumption! 

Would you judge me if I told you my abscess was very painful? Of course it was!

Perhaps if we - who struggle with eating disorders - were more vocal in our struggles, others would better understand them. Perhaps we would feel more comfortable sharing with people up-front, 

"I have an eating disorder; it is as dirty as chewing tobacco, and as difficult as any physical impairment. You cannot see my eating disorder, so you may often forget that I have it, but it is something that I will always battle.

"Fighting an eating disorder entails a difficult struggle, and it is one that I have to fight for myself. There is little you can do to help me fight my own eating disorder. However, you can help me raise awareness of eating disorders at large.

"Don't judge; eating disorders are tough, tough shit!"

Vitals (Charcoal Drawing by BB)

TEXT ONE: "The pupa is motionless and is often called a "resting stage." However, much activity occurs within the shell. Larval structures are being broken down and re-formed into those of an adult butterfly."

TEXT TWO: "They took her vitals everyday:

TEXT THREE: The butterfly uses its muscles to pump air and blood through its body and wings. The butterfly's exoskeleton hardens, and the legs and other body parts become firm. The wings flatten and expand. The butterfly joins the halves of its proboscis together. About an hour after leaving the pupal shell, the adult butterfly may be ready to fly." -Vitals

Butterfly (Charcoal Drawing by BB)

"When she closed here eyes tight / she could propell herself into the air / by flapping her arms, / suspended in the arc of a leap" - Butterfly

Statistics of Recovery

Recovering from an eating disorder (e.d.) is hard enough when you WANT to recover. Long-term follow-ups of patients with bulimia nervosa reveal about 30% do not fully recover; 10% remain fully symptomatic (Keel et al., 1999; Reas et al., 2000).

It is important to recognize up to 90% of patients with eating disorders are NOT in treatment (Fairburn et al., 1996), so the 70% recovery rate for bulimia (cited above) refers to the population of bulimics within the 10% of patients in treatment. I imagine the odds of recovery are much lower for patients who do not receive treatment; I know from personal experience treatment from bulimia is almost impossible without symptom interruption and professional care.

Intervening soon after a diagnosis of Bulimia Nervosa is made (i.e., within the first few years) is linked with a better prognosis (Reas et al., 2000 as cited in Davidson, Neale, & Kring, 2004). However, among patients who seek treatment for Bulimia Nervosa, the average length of the disorder is 9 years (Dr. Laura Jaap, Methodist Hospital, 2008), so intervention within the first few years of the diagnosis seems improbable.

Patients with bulimia nervosa who binge and vomit more, have comorbid substance abuse, or a history of depression have a poorer prognosis than patients without these factors (Wilson et al., 1999); symptom use and comorbid substance abuse increase with direct correlation to the length of the disorder in my experience.

Cognitive behavior therapy - the best validated and most current standard for the treatment of bulimia - falls short in most patients (Davidson, Neale, & Kring, 2004).

Findings from a number of studies indicate CBT often results in less frequent binging and purging, with reductions ranging from 70 to more than 90%; extreme dietary restraint is also reduced significantly, and there is improvement in attitudes toward body shape and weight (Compas et al., 1998; Garner et al., 1993; Wilson et al., 1991).

At least HALF OF THOSE TREATED WITH CBT IMPROVE VERY LITTLE (Craighead & Agras, 1991; Wilson, 1995; Wilson & Pike, 1993), and only about ONE THIRD OF THE PATIENTS WHO DO IMPROVE SIGNIFICANTLY MAINTAIN IMPROVEMENTS at followups as early as 6- and 12-months (Fairburn, Peveler, et al., 1993).

Statistics do not seem to favor recovery from Bulimia Nervosa; this does not mean recovery is not possible or probable.

Recovery from Bulimia Nervosa relies on willingness to recover. To support this claim, please summon any cliche quotation indicating the power of attitude: "mind over matter," "weather you think you can, or you think you cannot, you are probably right," etc.

Stay Tuned for a Blog on "The Right Time to Recover;" for help strengthening your ability to improve your chances of recovery through your mindpower, please read "The Secret," (http://www.thesecret.tv/).

Choosing to Take Control

I began an e-mail: "I have put my life on hold for the time being to focus on my recovery from my eating disorder." My mom helped me view my recovery from a healthier point of view: I am not putting my life on hold; I am choosing to steer my life in a different direction.

I am choosing to regain control of my life. To put "on hold" indicates an intent to return or reclaim; I do not intend to go back to my eating disorder. I will not resume a life my eating disorder controls. I intend to begin living a life I control.

This realization is very empowering for me: NO, I am not putting my life on hold. I am treating my eating disorder as a very important part of my life. My decisions can change the course of my future; I choose to control my life's course. I choose change.

I am excited for my new found power to ruminate into other areas of my life. If I can have the health I want, I can have the job I want - whatever job I truly want. I can choose the friends I want to have. I can choose where I want to live and how I want to spend my days. I choose to choose for myself.