I had a pretty uneventful day-- baking for WC, going to group, and reading for class-- but I had an interesting telephone conversation with D tonight. I asked him to call me because I was having trouble deciding whether or not to go to the wind ensemble rehearsal on Wednesday instead of my grandmother's Rosh Hashana dinner. I told him that I really wanted to go to wind ensemble instead of the dinner because it would be really, really difficult to go to three family dinners three days in a row (there are two other dinners the next two nights), because of religious reasons, because wind ensemble sounds like a lot more fun and because I have the chance to make friends there and I'm in desperate need of friends. D supported my decision to go to wind ensemble, which felt validating and reassuring.
He then asked how I was going to tell my parents about my decision and suggested I be honest about the eating-related reason. I told him I couldn't do that. You see, my parents have a tendency to overreact. And in March when they and my sisters staged a very dramatic intervention and forcibly took me from my apartment to the hospital I learned that I can't tell anyone in my family how I'm doing if I'm not doing perfectly because in their minds "struggling" or "not perfect" means "needs to go to the hospital ASAP." And I really don't want to go to the hospital, nor do I think I need to.
What I realized, though, is that in our family sessions Shrinkiepoo totally reinforced this mindset. He said he wanted me to be "recoverED" (past tense) by August, obviously unaware that in addiction terminology one is "in recovery" for several years before they are "recoverED" if ever. He reinforced my parents' expectation of perfection by validating them when they told him they were concerned about how at restaurants I always eat a half of what I am served. Both my parents and Shrinkiepoo don't understand that recovering from an eating disorder is, excuse me, fucking difficult and that expecting perfection is just unreasonable.
So I decided that I am going to tell my parents that I can't go to the dinner because my attendance at wind ensemble is mandatory if I want to participate for the rest of the semester. D said he liked this story. It's a lie, but I feel like telling the truth would just have too many negative consequences.