Journal #73

March 15th, 2016

Consequence.

It’s not my favorite word. I don’t think it’s anyone’s, come to think of it. Every choice you make, results in a consequence. With this definition, I know that a consequence can be a positive. But I’ve never been told after doing something good, “Bridgette, thank you for cleaning my car. Your consequence is getting $10!”. The word, “Consequence”, has always been used in a negative context, leaving me with a negative connotation of the word. More like, “Bridgette, you didn’t clean your room. Your consequence is not getting to go spend the night at your friend’s house tonight.”

I received a consequence after “Coming clean” to my treatment team yesterday. Not some obscure, arbitrary consequence, but a natural consequence. A direct result of my actions.

I am not discharging on Friday.

Putting it onto paper makes it seem so much more real.

I’m not discharging on Friday, but I’m not in trouble.

I’m not discharging on Friday, but it’s still a good thing that I confessed. It will allow me to move forward, to pursue true recovery, allow me to have relationships with the people that I care about, and most importantly, it preserves my integrity.

But there’s still a consequence.

The reason my discharge date is being postponed is not to teach me a lesson. It’s not to punish me, or to “Get back at me” for the extra work I’ve now caused the people who are in charge of my care. It’s to monitor my weight. To see how my body responds to the new exchanges I am assigned. To see how this next couple of weeks, of being honest, of following my meal plan, really goes. It’s the direct result of my lying about what I was eating.

I’m not discharging on Friday, but still, it’s a good thing.

-Bridge

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