The F Word

Fabulous friends! I write to you from the comfort of my home in Plano, Texas. I am in the transitioning phase of new environments, new people, new treatment teams and new connections. I did everything I could to stay in Denver a little bit longer but the treatment team said I was ready to fly from the nest. So I am now in a new nest far from Denver, far from ERC and far from all of my wonderful girls who are still chugging along back at program. I miss them terribly.

My plan was for this to be some deep post about my last few days at treatment yadda yadda but it's super early and to be honest I'm just not in a deep sorta mood. So we shall talk about the F word instead…

There are many different F words that have been mentioned over the course of the past two months. The first and foremost one is of course f*ck. I quickly learned in my first seven days in Denver that the usage of foul language is normal and not exactly "foul" anymore. But for some reason I wasn't too bothered by this. Yes, I did do my share of correcting or "smiting" if you will but as the weeks went on my sailors mouth began to expand in vocabulary. I give myself and anyone else in treatment the permission to use the occasional bad word, except occasional is probably an understatement. So I give/gave myself permission to let the words flow as I felt needed during emotional outbursts, tough meals and anger towards treatment teams and plans. Now, my improper language stopped at the F word. This has always been a word that I haven't said because it sounds dirty and bad and foul. So of course, because I've made it such a big deal over the course of time I have a really hard time at using it when appropriate and necessary. The last two weeks at ERC meal time was spent practicing using the F word. My ultimate goal was to walk across the street to the football fields and yell it at the top of my lungs over and over again to release anger. Although, this never happened I did get a little better at saying it. What first started out as a whisper turned into a stronger more powerful statement. Yet no one was able to really take me seriously or at least too seriously.

One sweet friend of mine told me at my goodbye on Tuesday that she was sending me off with the three F words. I was certain she was going to send me with f*ck since I had been practicing so hard but instead she sent me with; flexibility, faith and football. Okay, these are good words I will admit and they sound a lot prettier than THE f word. But this did not and has not stopped my determination to freely and without guilt express the f word.

I show up on Thursday night to The Renfrew Center in Dallas were I will be doing my intensive outpatient program and find out that one of the rules is they don't say the three f words. In my head I think doubtfully she means flexibility, faith and football. But she continues her speech and my worst fears are confirmed; "we don't allow the words fat, fine and THE infamous F word".

Fuck.