Self Soothing... hard concept for EDs

Why, or perhaps I should say, how, is it that the feeling of fear or panic can strike at any moment? One minute I could be at the bookstore having a lovely time admiring and skimming through dozens of books, and the next minute I'm in complete fear. Or, I could be walking down the street on a perfectly sunny NYC day, and all of a sudden, wham!, I feel completely alone, unsafe, and on the verge of tears. These feelings aren't cause by anything external, but rather, feelings that sit in the depths of my soul and permeate through my psyche--their only release coming in the form of a panic attack or a heavy crying spell.

Does this ever happen to you? My instinct tells me I'm not alone in this.

Immediately, when this happens, I call my therapist for security. It's interesting that my first thought is to reach for something or someone external. It used to be food, now it's my therapist. The only things more soothing are my iPhone or shopping at Anthropologie. As a person who has been through hospitilizations, day treatments, outpatient, long-term residential, years of 12-Step, and more, it is somewhat disheartening that I haven't been able to sharpen my ability to "self-soothe," one of the many palliative prescriptions recommended by H, my therapist.

Once again, this shows me how there are SOOOO many levels to this eating disorder. Actually, this has NOTHING to do with the ED itself; these are the feelings that led me to seek out ED in the first place. It's amazing how powerful feelings can be, isn't it? After all, rationale tells me, Feelings Aren't Facts, but when you're living in a state of fear, it's rarely rational... at least, that's what I've learned.

...Just one more piece of evidence that proves that the ED and all of it's pathological accoutrements are, indeed, a disease (or, at the very least, dis-ease) of the mind.

More on this later

The Three P's of Inaction

In our session yesterday, my T told me that I was suffering from "The Three P's"--Perfectionism, Procrastination, and Paralysis. Oh, how right she is.

For literally weeks now, I've been procrastinating about an article that I'm writing for my school. Typically, I love to write; however, because I will get paid/published for this article, and because this article is for a professor at a prestigious university, I've become paralyzed to write it.

It's amazing how something like an article can make the three p's show up in all parts of my life. I haven't been able to call people back or get my list of things done. I don't feel like going to work. I haven't been writing on my blog (sorry!) Of course, the impending guilt, which perpetuates the three p's' cycle, doesn't help matters.

Naturally, my mind tries to distract itself by shifting to FOOD chatter... I need to lose weight, cut my calories, join the new gym so I can compulsively exercise, blah blah, blah.

Today, luckily, I woke up feeling less stuck in the grips of the three evil p's.

Today I know that focusing on my food and body won't get my list of things done, or that article written. It will only help me to procrastinate longer and feel more guilty--both of which are great set-ups for a binge/purge--the ultimate sabotage.

The Helix of Old Wounds

A few months ago, I moved back to NYC. Prior to the move, I'd been telling my therapy group that I knew I'd be getting back into meetings, as the recovery is amazingly strong in the city. Before my arrival, I'd envisioned that when I came back to my "home group" (from 8 years ago), I'd walk into a room of familiar faces... faces that would remember me.

As soon as I arrived in the city, I went back to my home group. The room had changed. Gone were the old spongy donated couches I used to sit on. The room had been painted and cleaned of clutter, the only remaining furniture was a circle of chairs. I recognized one person. And they didn't recognize me. My ego was, at the very least, humbled... Since then, I've been going to the same Sunday meeting for the last couple of months--I haven't exactly jumped into meetings; I'm slowly integrating myself back.

So, this past week, I made a few phone calls to people from the Sunday meeting, and I was amazed (hurt, baffled, pissed, etc.) that they didn't know who I was! Call it a case of an "egomaniac with an inferiority complex," but I (or rather, my ego) felt extremely hurt by this. Hadn't I dazzled them enough with my shares (Ha,ha)? How could they not remember who I was, when I talked to them after the meeting, albeit a brief encounter? My HP is probably laughing at me...

Yesterday, I returned to the meeting. I felt this extreme sadness throughout, and while I should've shared, I didn't. Rather, after the meeting, when a woman I knew at the meeting asked me how I was, I became a volcano of sadness, my tears erupting and pouring out everywhere. The embarrassing thing for me was that my sadness was triggered by these phone calls, something seemingly small.

The issue is that it brought up this feeling of not being a part of, which is something I'd felt throughout my life. Nobody knew me, I didn't count. I was invisible. I wasn't a part of this recovery clique... blah, blah, blah.

Now I know these are wounds from the girl I once was, and this is a perfect example of how old wounds never dissipate entirely; rather, like my therapist says, our issues resurface like a helix: they will come up again and again, but, over time, they will have less intensity, as you work through them. But they always resurface. That has definitely proven to be true for me. Where, at one time, certain issues would be emotionally debilitating to me, today, they may cause pain for a few hours or a day, but then I move on.

So, for today, I will try not to have expectations about how people will (or how I think they should) react to me.

Conscious Contact with Reality

Hi Everyone,

Today I'm focusing on "reality," which is something ED hates. Reality tells me that it's okay to be a "normal" weight, and reminds me that while the isolation of living in the ED mindset can feel comforting and powerful, it is all an illusion... the same way our minds play tricks on us to tell us we're fat.

Reality, for me, is about honesty. I know I post a lot about honesty, but isn't that what it's all about? When I tell myself, "It's okay, you don't need to eat," when I'm physically hungry, or when I tell myself, "Just finish the rest, you can start again tomorrow," when I'm holding my stomach because I'm clearly full, I'm not living an honest recovery.

Today, I'm trying to live in reality and listen to what the quiet ED voices in my head are saying, because when I listen to the subtle voices--the voices that seem like no big deal, but could actually be the most seductive, insidious, and manipulative voices--I eventually start listening to the overt ED messages that send me straight to the grocery store or to the toilet.

For today, having conscious contact with reality means to eat what's on my food plan, don't listen to ED voices that will only sabotage my recovery and make me feel guilty, and to have the COURAGE to either pick up or put down the fork when I cross over to emotional eating.

Recovery teaches me everyday that it is really just one day at a time.

Hunger is... okay.

It's funny... prior to recovery, I spent so many years vacillating from bingeing and purging to starving myself, intentionally trying to feel physically empty. Yet, in recovery, I've become afraid to feel that which I used to crave... hunger. It's not the type of thing where I'm afraid to feel the grumbling in my stomach before a meal; actually, now that I'm writing, I'm not even sure that it's fear...

At the treatment centers I so humbly crawled to in the summer of 2001, we ate in an extremely regimented way (of course), being served up breakfast, lunch, dinner... and meta. Meta, or metabolic, went against the grain of every eating disordered bone in my body. Eat a snack before bed to regulate blood sugar? Moreover, it went against the dogmas of the most popular diets, which told me not to eat past eight in the evening, or no carbs past the afternoon. Dogmas that even Oprah buys into.

I'd always prided myself on going to bed on an empty stomach, hoping that I'd wake up (and feel) one more pound lighter. Just one more, and I'll feel okay about myself.

Ever since my discharge from the rehabs that saved my life, I've eaten meta every night. It's a great plan. That said, the compulsive eater in me sends warning signals to my brain if I don't eat meta, or if I don't eat every 4-5 hours the way I've been conditioned to eat.

So, yesterday, after some probing questions from my therapist, I found myself at another level of honesty in my recovery. What I know is that I don't have to always eat something just because my brain tells me I should. Now, DO NOT get this confused with some type of anorexic cognitive distortion--this is hardly that. This is me being honest with myself about the fact that I still emotionally eat, in small doses.

I've been complaining (for years) that I just want to eat cleanly. I'll eat cleanly for the entire day, and then at the end of the night, I'll eat something--that "thing" that I'm hoping will make me feel "whatever," but in actuality makes me feel guilty and increases my self-loathing--I don't really need, just to sabotage me, mentally.

Well, I'm happy to report that last night, I, finally, went to bed without sabotaging myself! It was a little uncomfortable to go to bed without the maladaptive comfort of knowing I screwed up my perfectly clean abstinence yet again. But today, I feel so happy that I honored self-honesty.

This has triggered many thoughts and questions... I'd like to be able to not have to rely on "perfect" abstinence in order to feel good about my recovery. That's very black and white, eating disordered thinking. I wonder if anyone reading this has come to a mental middle ground with their recovery? More next post...

The Forgettable Face of Honesty

The last week has been somewhat of a controlled food frenzy. I didn't go binge or anything, but I had several consecutive days of eating whatever. This is where my abstinence can get tricky, because I can, basically, eat whatever I want... in small doses.

After a while of eating freely, though, I accumulate both a mental and physical buildup, which leaves me feeling guilty and fat. This is never a good pattern for me to fall into. It has, in the past, been a setup for relapse. So, today, I knew I'd have to get honest with myself, and employ more structure to my food plan.

If I've learned anything throughout my recovery journey, it's that I can use as many tools as I want to--going to meetings, using a food plan, picking up the telephone, sponsorship, using a treatment team, etc.--BUT, none of them really matter if I'm not honest with myself.

I may coast on the coattails of self-will for a while, but, eventually, it will catch up to me.

While I don't attend "The Program" at present, the one phrase from the literature that never leaves my mind is the part in the Big Book stating, "There are those who are constitutionally incapable of getting honest with themselves."

That phrase snaps me back into reality, to remind me to get honest about my own level of self-honesty... if that makes any sense.

I now have a daily reminder alarm on my phone to remind me to wake-up and get honest. It's amazing how easy it is to forget about honesty! In times of stress, no, actually, ANYTIME, I can be lured by this or that food, forgetting that IF IM HONEST WITH MYSELF, then I don't really want what I'm reaching for.

What I'm craving in the moment is much deeper than food.

I've said it before, and I'm saying it again (for myself)...Self Honesty IS the BEST POLICY!!!!

The Discipline of Recovery

When I was in the depths of hell with my bulimia, my mother used to rant, "All you need is structure and discipline to help your habits ." Besides being completely reductive, to some extent, she was right. I didn't have structure, nor discipline; I was totally out of control.

Years later, while studying The Road Less Traveled in my philosophy class, discipline popped up again. Dr. Peck stated four components to discipline:

1. Delaying Gratification
2. Acceptance of Responsibility
3. Dedication to Truth
4. Balancing

Yesterday, I picked up the book again, and after reading about discipline, I had to get honest with myself about my own discipline, or rather, lack thereof.

While I'm very disciplined in my studies, my work, meeting deadlines, etc., I'm not disciplined at all with my food. I've always prided myself on this, because I don't want to be tethered to Tupperware containers or have to eat exactly what's on my food plan, in order to say I'm abstinent. For me, that isn't freedom. However, I feel guilty much of the time for my food choices--because I don't eat perfectly.

What does this have to do with discipline? Well... even in abstinence, I don't like to delay gratification. Because I don't have good and bad foods, I eat what I want. Rarely, do I delay gratification.

My point is that I'd like to be able to delay gratification with my food, and not eat something just because I think it will provide me with nutrition that will emotionally nurture me.