To better execute the portrayal of Uncle Buddy's rescue scene, I need to introduce a few more characters, at least two for now.
Part of the treatment process involved many group sessions. All sorts of groups. It was as if they were coming up with group names just to keep throwing us into more and more groups. Some of the groups were led by inexperienced behavioral health assistants; these groups frustrated me the most. Other groups were led by top experts in their fields. Unfortunately, as you may or may not guess, it was the most beneficial groups that met less than any of the other groups.
One of those said groups led by field experts was psycho-therapy. While the duo that led this group were more than qualified for leading and facilitating the girls in group discussion, I often left having felt like I didn't get much out of it, but probably because I never spoke up.
Dan and Jen, or more professionally known as Dr. Dan and Dr. Jen were highly sought after by patients both in the facility and out. Psychiatrists with top notch credentials and rumors that Dr. Jen herself had personal experience with an eating disorder in her past, these two were the "big dogs," so to speak, on campus. I was originally disappointed to not be assigned to either one as my personal psychiatrist, seeing as many girls were, but I remained content with my pill pushing psychiatrist since I would be seeing the both of them in a group setting.
Prior to our first group I remember thinking it was going to be the best group the facility had to offer, but I soon realized that not much of it was actually going to be beneficial since there were about six girls in the group and each one of them would be vying for time. Problems don't get solved in an hour, let alone for six people.
Dr. Jen impressed me right off the bat. It seemed that everything I heard about her was true, including the rumors about her history with an eating disorder. In all honesty, I think what I liked most about her was not her intellect, her interest in the patients, or even her calm and confident aura, it was the fact that she looked like she still had an eating disorder. It was as if I wanted to tell her that her secret was safe with me; I wouldn't let on to the fact that she still had an eating disorder if she could help me figure out how I too could maintain my unhealthy figure with a doctor's title and credentials. It should be noted that while maybe in her past, in our current situation with her as our doctor, she didn't actually have an eating disorder. But, in all vain honesty, I was not impressed by her ability to help me, I was impressed by her ability to stay so thin.
Dr. Dan, on the other hand was less impressive, physically speaking. As I was sizing the two of them up in my mind's eye I remember thinking in regards to Dr. Dan, "you may be the head honcho in the psychiatry field, but I bet you don't know your way around a gym." Some of these thoughts are still difficult for me to write out, revealing how shallow my heart and mind were, and in many ways still are. Dr. Dan was an older man with a generous sized belly. He combed his salt and pepper hair over to the side, though I don't remember which side. He seemed nice enough, but probably because I started to feel a little bad about the judgments I made about his appearance.
More than anything else, What I didn't like about Dr. Dan was that he always seemed to be trying to stay awake in our group, as if we were boring him to sleep. He would try to hide his yawns by awkwardly smiling and showing all of his teeth, but I knew what he was doing. It seemed that his eyelids weighed more than he did as he struggled so often to keep them open. Because of this I found it hard to take him seriously and even more so to trust him.
Only a few nights after our group time went over time and cut into phone time, the parents of all of the patients were invited to a family night hosted by Dr. Dan and Dr. Jen. Parents and patients came together to discuss anything they wanted with the doctors, a great opportunity for any lingering questions or suppressed criticisms to be released. Seeing as how my parents lived in South Carolina, it was dear Uncle Buddy who proudly arrived as my father figure.
The evening started calmly enough, but as more mothers wanted to know when their daughters would either start eating again or stop using heroin, the heat kicked on and people started getting agitated. If there is one group of people you don't want to agitate, it would be a group of bi-polar, heroin addicted, starving women. Such a group would make for a violent street gang. To Dr. Dan and Dr. Jen's credit, some questions just didn't have answers, after all who's to say that the length of treatment for one girl is going to look exactly the same for another girl? Not even doctors can make that call, and so when they didn't, girls got pissed.
As girls got pissed, Uncle Buddy got annoyed. If there's one person you don't want to annoy, it's a macho Harley man surrounded by a group of bi-polar, heroin addicted, starving women. Such a man would wipe a violent street gang right off of the street. While girls yelled back and forth, the somber and barely to be heard Dr. Dan tried to get people to calm down but to no avail. Dr. Jen must have left by this point because I don't remember her being present. Uncle Buddy leaned forward in his chair and unclasped his hands, he put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I was okay. I said I was and I suppose that was all he needed to hear in order to get going, "ALRIGHT," he yelled in his deep Southern voice, "AYE, AYE, ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!" His arms spread out wide as he yelled. The girls got quiet, the mothers bounced their eyes in his direction, I knew they were admiring more than his ability to command a room, Uncle Buddy is also quite easy on the eyes, it's a family trait.
"Look," he said as he sniffed and scrunched up his mustache while staring at Dr. Dan, "I get that you don't have answers for how long the girls are in here, especially seeing as how it's for all different reasons that they're in here..." Dr. Dan looked relieved as if Uncle Buddy was going to come to his rescue. Dr. Dan didn't know Uncle Buddy. "So, whatever," Uncle Buddy said as he threw his hands up, "don't give an answer for that, but give me an answer for this... when you tell me that there are certain times I can call and talk to JJ and I call during those times, why then was I told the other night that I couldn't talk to her?"
"YEA," the other girls yelled as they recalled their anger from that night before being given sleeping pills to knock them out. "That's true," a mother chimed in, "I tried to call my daughter during phone hours as well and they wouldn't let me speak to her. Isn't that the purpose of having phone hours?" Concerned parents started agreeing that they wanted an answer for what happened the other night seeing as how there was already such a small window for them to be able to talk to their children. Dr. Dan shifted in his chair, "well it's my understanding that the groups ran a little late which cut into the phone time..." "Then extend phone time," Uncle Buddy interrupted. "YEA!" the girls yelled growing more and more fond of Uncle Buddy.
"Well," Dr. Dan said looking increasingly uncomfortable, "we want the girls to stick to a schedule as much as possible and if we start changing up the times of free time and phone time then we start to lose structure..." Uncle Buddy remained calm as he interrupted a few more times, each time Dr. Dan giving an excuse for what happened the other night. As Dr. Dan was fumbling over his words, Uncle Buddy started to stand up, "LOOK," he yelled, "if our daughters are in here day in and day out and we only have a small amount of time to talk to them, then you better be damn sure that we actually get to talk to them! You say you don't want to change up their schedule when it comes to their phone time, but you certainly don't have a problem changing up their schedule when it comes to their group time by making the group go longer and cutting out their phone time completely! Part of their schedule and their treatment should be that they get to talk to their parents if they want to (his voice growing louder and louder), so if I'm told that I can call at a certain time and talk to my daughter and I call during that time, then DON'T tell me it's too bad because your group went over! Pull her out of the group or end group time, I don't care what you do, but when I call DON'T EVER again tell me that I CAN'T talk to MY DAUGHTER!"
"YEAAA!!!!" the girls clapped and cheered. The other mothers nodded their heads in agreement, one mother fanning herself. "UNCLE BUDDDDDDY," one of the more gender neutral looking girls yelled in a deep voice. I was elated with pride. My heart skipped a beat when Uncle Buddy called me his daughter and I felt protected in a way that I never really had before. I don't think Uncle Buddy was even aware of the cheering that was happening around him, he was breathing heavy and staring intently at Dr. Dan as if to say "I dare you to challenge me on this." Dr. Dan, the man who I felt barely listened in our group sessions due to his inability to stay awake, looked bright eyed and bushy tailed as Uncle Buddy commanded the "conversation," which Uncle Buddy reminded him wasn't a conversation because there was nothing to discuss, it was as simple as "when I call during phone time, make sure JJ has a phone!"
Dr. Dan ended the family night and girls and mothers alike came around Uncle Buddy to agree with and thank him. Uncle Buddy smiled his big smile and pulled me close to him as he enjoyed everyone's compliments. Here was this macho Harley man, relating to the mothers of bi-polar, heroin addicted, starving women. It was then that I realized I wasn't going to be the only person in my family to be impacted by my reluctant choice to go to treatment. Whether he was aware of it or not, Uncle Buddy found himself in a role he had never played before and relating to people in circles he had never been a part of.
Uncle Buddy coming to my rescue was so tangible and measurable that it only confirmed my suspicions that I didn't need God. God's silence didn't discourage my belief in His existence, but it did encourage my belief in His lack of caring. Little did I know at the time that God caring could look like a macho man in a Harley jacket, God seemed more like a Dr. Dan who was trying to stay awake as I was discussing my problems.
Sometimes you think you know everything, as I did and often still do, and sometimes you realize you know nothing, as I have realized in the last six years since being in treatment. Though I wasn't at the time, I am more and more convinced that should I see God visibly and tangibly walking the earth today, He or She would probably be wearing a Harley jacket, and would most definitely be my buddy.
To be continued...
Only a few nights after our group time went over time and cut into phone time, the parents of all of the patients were invited to a family night hosted by Dr. Dan and Dr. Jen. Parents and patients came together to discuss anything they wanted with the doctors, a great opportunity for any lingering questions or suppressed criticisms to be released. Seeing as how my parents lived in South Carolina, it was dear Uncle Buddy who proudly arrived as my father figure.
The evening started calmly enough, but as more mothers wanted to know when their daughters would either start eating again or stop using heroin, the heat kicked on and people started getting agitated. If there is one group of people you don't want to agitate, it would be a group of bi-polar, heroin addicted, starving women. Such a group would make for a violent street gang. To Dr. Dan and Dr. Jen's credit, some questions just didn't have answers, after all who's to say that the length of treatment for one girl is going to look exactly the same for another girl? Not even doctors can make that call, and so when they didn't, girls got pissed.
As girls got pissed, Uncle Buddy got annoyed. If there's one person you don't want to annoy, it's a macho Harley man surrounded by a group of bi-polar, heroin addicted, starving women. Such a man would wipe a violent street gang right off of the street. While girls yelled back and forth, the somber and barely to be heard Dr. Dan tried to get people to calm down but to no avail. Dr. Jen must have left by this point because I don't remember her being present. Uncle Buddy leaned forward in his chair and unclasped his hands, he put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I was okay. I said I was and I suppose that was all he needed to hear in order to get going, "ALRIGHT," he yelled in his deep Southern voice, "AYE, AYE, ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!" His arms spread out wide as he yelled. The girls got quiet, the mothers bounced their eyes in his direction, I knew they were admiring more than his ability to command a room, Uncle Buddy is also quite easy on the eyes, it's a family trait.
"Look," he said as he sniffed and scrunched up his mustache while staring at Dr. Dan, "I get that you don't have answers for how long the girls are in here, especially seeing as how it's for all different reasons that they're in here..." Dr. Dan looked relieved as if Uncle Buddy was going to come to his rescue. Dr. Dan didn't know Uncle Buddy. "So, whatever," Uncle Buddy said as he threw his hands up, "don't give an answer for that, but give me an answer for this... when you tell me that there are certain times I can call and talk to JJ and I call during those times, why then was I told the other night that I couldn't talk to her?"
"YEA," the other girls yelled as they recalled their anger from that night before being given sleeping pills to knock them out. "That's true," a mother chimed in, "I tried to call my daughter during phone hours as well and they wouldn't let me speak to her. Isn't that the purpose of having phone hours?" Concerned parents started agreeing that they wanted an answer for what happened the other night seeing as how there was already such a small window for them to be able to talk to their children. Dr. Dan shifted in his chair, "well it's my understanding that the groups ran a little late which cut into the phone time..." "Then extend phone time," Uncle Buddy interrupted. "YEA!" the girls yelled growing more and more fond of Uncle Buddy.
"Well," Dr. Dan said looking increasingly uncomfortable, "we want the girls to stick to a schedule as much as possible and if we start changing up the times of free time and phone time then we start to lose structure..." Uncle Buddy remained calm as he interrupted a few more times, each time Dr. Dan giving an excuse for what happened the other night. As Dr. Dan was fumbling over his words, Uncle Buddy started to stand up, "LOOK," he yelled, "if our daughters are in here day in and day out and we only have a small amount of time to talk to them, then you better be damn sure that we actually get to talk to them! You say you don't want to change up their schedule when it comes to their phone time, but you certainly don't have a problem changing up their schedule when it comes to their group time by making the group go longer and cutting out their phone time completely! Part of their schedule and their treatment should be that they get to talk to their parents if they want to (his voice growing louder and louder), so if I'm told that I can call at a certain time and talk to my daughter and I call during that time, then DON'T tell me it's too bad because your group went over! Pull her out of the group or end group time, I don't care what you do, but when I call DON'T EVER again tell me that I CAN'T talk to MY DAUGHTER!"
"YEAAA!!!!" the girls clapped and cheered. The other mothers nodded their heads in agreement, one mother fanning herself. "UNCLE BUDDDDDDY," one of the more gender neutral looking girls yelled in a deep voice. I was elated with pride. My heart skipped a beat when Uncle Buddy called me his daughter and I felt protected in a way that I never really had before. I don't think Uncle Buddy was even aware of the cheering that was happening around him, he was breathing heavy and staring intently at Dr. Dan as if to say "I dare you to challenge me on this." Dr. Dan, the man who I felt barely listened in our group sessions due to his inability to stay awake, looked bright eyed and bushy tailed as Uncle Buddy commanded the "conversation," which Uncle Buddy reminded him wasn't a conversation because there was nothing to discuss, it was as simple as "when I call during phone time, make sure JJ has a phone!"
Dr. Dan ended the family night and girls and mothers alike came around Uncle Buddy to agree with and thank him. Uncle Buddy smiled his big smile and pulled me close to him as he enjoyed everyone's compliments. Here was this macho Harley man, relating to the mothers of bi-polar, heroin addicted, starving women. It was then that I realized I wasn't going to be the only person in my family to be impacted by my reluctant choice to go to treatment. Whether he was aware of it or not, Uncle Buddy found himself in a role he had never played before and relating to people in circles he had never been a part of.
Uncle Buddy coming to my rescue was so tangible and measurable that it only confirmed my suspicions that I didn't need God. God's silence didn't discourage my belief in His existence, but it did encourage my belief in His lack of caring. Little did I know at the time that God caring could look like a macho man in a Harley jacket, God seemed more like a Dr. Dan who was trying to stay awake as I was discussing my problems.
Sometimes you think you know everything, as I did and often still do, and sometimes you realize you know nothing, as I have realized in the last six years since being in treatment. Though I wasn't at the time, I am more and more convinced that should I see God visibly and tangibly walking the earth today, He or She would probably be wearing a Harley jacket, and would most definitely be my buddy.
To be continued...
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