NEDA Walk... Need a Burger and Fries?

Hi Everyone,

Although I'm a recent MSW grad and work as a psychotherapist in a mental health and substance abuse agency, I still work in a restaurant on the weekends--after all, I am living in NYC. I work the brunch shift at a popular designer burger joint on the Upper West Side (the irony!), which can have its challenges for a ED in recovery. Hey, a girl's gotta make a living. So, last weekend I see a crowd forming outside, completely normal for brunch. Men, women, and children everywhere are wearing the same t-shirts. Great, another group of tourists, I think to myself. As they enter, I notice that the t-shirts have a picture of a beautiful young girl, with the words, In Loving Memory of Emily, written below. Then I see it, the NEDA Walk logo on the back of the t-shirt.

Weeks earlier, I had planned to go to my first NEDA Walk. As a professional who wants to work with this population, I was hoping to get involved. But, instead of serving the greater good for eating disorders, I had to serve artery-clogging burgers and fries, contributing to the high cholesterol-hypertention-heart disease-obesity epidemic that plagues millions in this country--for the individuals as well as tax payers. But that's another discussion. Well, if I couldn't go to NEDA, at least they came to me.

I had the fortunate experience of waiting on four ED professionals, enabling me to share my thoughts in between Diet Coke and Iced Tea refills. I felt a little envy for being unable to walk for NEDA, but grateful that I was able to make a connection. Next year I will for sure be walking, and not kissing asses to high-maintenance Upper West Siders, in hopes of a 20% tip. Ahem.

Back Recovery, Recovery Rut

Hi Everyone,

I apologize, once again, for the long absence. First it was grad school and now it has been my back. I have always had lower lumbar strain and spasmic flare-ups, but a few months ago I suffered the consequences of a herniated disc... sciatic nerve pain from my hip to my foot. For three weeks, I was unable to sleep, I had to take off work, and for at least six weeks I couldn't sit. I really took for granted the simple everyday activities, like typing on my laptap, until I had the herniated disc. Not to mention, the pain zaps every ounce of creativity from your soul.

It's only natural as a food addict (maybe normies, too, I'm not sure) that when I'm in physical pain, the first thing I seek out is food. I don't mean in a binge-purge way, but rather in a who-cares-what-I'm-eating way. To some extent, this is a reflection of my recovery. When I say "who cares" I'm not being apathetic and I'm not depressed. It means that I've gotten to a place in my recovery where if I eat extra of this or that, it just doesn't make a difference. To some degree.

Once of my sponsors used to say, "It's one meal out of a thousand." I always like that line. However, you can't take it to an extreme b/c then one meal becomes every meal.

So, being laid up with a backache, and seeing my once-toned stomach muscles drown under the newly-formed flabby skin coating of butter, sugar, and cheese I've comforted myself with while recovering, I've had to ask myself an important question. How much more time am I willing to spend (or waste) worrying and obsessing about food and my body??? I see my dad still caring about his weight. My mom does the famed "Cookie Diet." What will I be doing in 20 years?

One thing I know is that I don't want to be where I am now. It isn't a bad place; I just feel like I'm stuck in this phase of recovery. Better than relapse, eh? Yes, my life is quite manageable and I'm becoming accomplished in ways I never imagined. But I'm still not eating that "perfectly clean" food plan that I was taught to follow in treatment. Partly because I just don't want to be restricted to that degree. It's so black and white. On the other hand, I lose mental energy by feeling guilty about things I eat. I only have feelings of guilt because I connect eating what I want with gaining weight. Rather, I connect eating what I want with not being able to lose weight. When I eat whatever I want (not bingeing, just like a non-foodaddie), my weight doesn't change. I'm fortunate in that I'm not a person whose weight fluctuates. The PROBLEM is that I still have the fantasy of losing weight. Even after all these years, I cannot get rid myself of the desire to be skinny. To be "average" feels empty. Until now I never connected average and empty. Average, in my mind, equates to not being good enough. Period. My irrational mind still tells me that unless I do something or turn into someone extraordinary, then I'm nothing. On the one hand, I know I'm a good person with wonderful qualities. On the other hand, the same hand that likes to put comfort food in my mouth, my life is driven by what I can achieve next. I always have to one-up myself. Because maybe then I'll be good enough. It parallels anorexia perfectly. One more size, one more pound, and I'll be good enough. But you never get there.

This is what makes recovery from an eating disorder such a rankling and arduous process.

After going through hell for nearly two decades, you go to treatment, learn how to live in recovery, master functioning at the level of an 18-year-old (when you're 29), and do things that "look" like you're "normal" (going to school, working, staying in a relationship, eating out at a restaurant, attending social gatherings, not escaping to the bathroom or bedroom at holiday functions). You're basically having a nice, happy life. Now you're FIXED (ah, that magic word parents and loved ones long to hear from professionals), right? Uh, no. Big. Fat. NO. Why? Because it is still there. Still. Always.

On the POSITIVE side, and there is one, the voice of ED gets softer as the voice of recovery becomes more audible.

I may be in a rut... but at least I'm still in recovery!

Since My Last Post...

Wow, I can't believe it has been months since I've posted... sorry! I'll do my best to catch you up. Let's see... I graduated from NYU with my MSW, as well as landed a job from my mental health/substance abuse facility internship (Yahoo!). I'm now learning how to become as competent as my current (and previous) therapist(s). Being on the other side of the couch isn't as easy as it looks! In between my cognitive reframing, paraphrasing, summarizing, reflecting, and display of nonverbal communication--clinical techniques delivered in my best therapist extraordinaire impersonation--I'm quietly panicking and wondering what the F*** I should say next! Aww... the joys of being a new clinician. It gets easier, though.

As a new clinician, I recently experienced my first professional disappointment. A couple of months ago, I interviewed for a position at an outpatient ED facility in the city--my dream job--and the interviewer told me I didn't have enough "clinical" experience. While her assertions were correct, I wondered if the nearly two decades of hell I went through with the ED would ever count for anything. I mean, really. I know EDs inside and out. She was right though; as I reflect back to the hospital days, when I hid my food in my napkin, I know that even the most seasoned clinicians are thrown curve balls by the ED population. On a brighter note, she said after I get some experience to contact her again. I know that all of my plans will happen in due time. Patience, Greta.

My patients teach me so much... the AA cliches that roll off their tongues in group remind me of what early recovery was like for me, and what I need to continue to do for my recovery. Through their resistance and struggle, I'm reminded that I NEVER want to return to the lonely island of isolation of the ED... even though on occasion my head still tries to persuade me to visit. Through their tears and perseverance, I'm reminded just how hard new recovery is, as well as how rewarding. I'm learning that the ED voice never fully dwindles. I guess that's why it's a called a disease.

Anyhoo...I'm continuing to work on my ongoing struggle of eating what I plan and only eating what I NEED to eat. It's really hard when you love food as much as I do. It's not like you get into recovery and your love of food dies. This is just another process of my recovery. I've stripped away the most harmful behaviors, now I'm stripping away behaviors that aren't necessarily harmful, but keep me in the obsession.

Recovery, at least for this ED, is a lengthy process.

A Thought is Just That... A Thought

In the beginning of my recovery, recovery cliches used to bounce around in my head to help me stay free from bingeing and purging... Keep it simple, Act yourself into right thinking, Progress not perfection, ODAT, etc. Throughout this process, I've had years when I go to OA meetings and years when I don't. Nonetheless, the program sticks with me.

I always say that eating disorder recovery is a process of harm reduction. Rarely does one stop entirely. And even then, the mental obsession is still busy trying to suck you back into the insanity. So, my current struggle is that I eat exactly how I want all day, but after dinner and my snack I still want more. It isn't that I'm hungry. I just always want more.

So, this week, something I learned in early recovery has been popping into my head... I might want more food, but that doesn't mean I have to act on it. It is just a thought. I'm going to have ED thoughts as a recovering food addict. To expect anything less is to discount the power of this beast.

Anyway, it's comforting to remember that I don't have to act on my thoughts today. I have the ability to CHOOSE.

National Eating Disorders Awareness

Cross-posted from The F-Word

In the spirit of NEDAW, Rachel thought it would be helpful if our posts focused on supporting recovery goals--I completely agree. When thinking about my personal recovery goals, one phrase keeps resonating... be gentle with yourself, this is a process. Being gentle with myself... for nearly my entire life, even in recovery, I have done quite the opposite. Growing up as a dancer, it was ingrained early on to be extra critical of myself, as well as compare my strengths and (most importantly) my deficits to my classmates. With regards to the eating disorder, anyone who has ED knows that it's all about beating one's self up and being unforgiving of anything less than perfection.

Being gentle with myself and realizing that this recovery bit is a process--just as getting into the ED was a process--made me think of the transtheoretical model of change. As a social work grad student, I am fortunate to get to attend seminars, and for the last five weeks, I've been in a Motivational Interviewing seminar. Motivational Interviewing is an evidence-based, client-centered therapeutic intervention for all types of psychopathology (especially addictions), that aims to help clients argue for their own change. MI is based on the transtheoretical model of change, which include six stages: precontemplation, contemplation, preparation, action, maintenance, and relapse.

This model of change is so helpful for me as a recovering person, because it recognizes that if you were to draw a line of what the process of recovery looks like on a piece of paper, it isn't one straight line of successes. Rather, it's more like a zigzag, where somedays you may be ready to take action, and other days your back at precontemplation, unable to see that there is actually a problem with certain behaviors or ways of thinking. I came from what is now considered to be a clinically "old school" treatment center, in that recovery is based solely on abstinence--either you are in recovery or you aren't, depending on how well you behave within their prescribed definition of recovery.

Today, I still don't do things perfectly in recovery, but that doesn't mean I'm not in recovery. It means that it is a process and that I need to be gentle with myself. I was engulfed by ED for nearly 17 years, and it just doesn't disappear overnight.

The message for myself, and to you, is to recognize the growth you're making in your recovery and don't be so hard on yourself. It is a process.

Diligence, Diligence, Diligence!

On my last post, I discussed that I was working on reconditioning my mind so that I would stop eating late at night when I'm not hungry. Any type of conditioning, whether it's our body, our thoughts, or our attitudes is hard work, and it takes diligence to break out of old habits.

I know, everyone's probably like, "Duh!". However, I have this bag of bad habits (albeit small) that I wanted to leave in 2009, but, somehow, have now schlepped into the new year. I'm into recycling and all, but I'm almost positive that my mental dysfunction and habits are not biodegradable.

Yesterday, I followed my food plan to the letter, until my girlfriend told me that she was making me dinner. What? Dinner? NO!!!! I just wanted to eat my food. What she was making was healthy and balanced, but I just didn't want to eat it. But I also know that it's good for me to have a certain degree of flexibility, especially when someone is taking the time to make me dinner.

So I ate it, and felt guilty and fat the entire time. That's how my disorder manifests. After, I felt anxious, which, of course, made me want to eat something else. But I didn't. Hallelujah! It was the mental diligence of being honest with myself about what I needed and how I felt that kept me from eating. And it was difficult, because even now, as I love myself much more than I ever have, my natural instinct is too sabotage myself.

So, I guess yesterday was officially Day 1 of reconditioning my mind--for this issue. Progress not perfection, I guess.

This morning I still "feel fat" for eating off of the food plan I had planned for myself. But I know that "fat"isn't a feeling, and even if it was, feelings aren't facts, blah, blah, blah.

I'll let you know how I did for Day 2 tomorrow!

Back in NYC... Day 1 of Mental Reconditioning

Yesterday, I returned from a week-long Christmas vacation in Kansas City and Tampa. After flying on the worst flight of my life, I wasn't sure if I'd ever make it home. The flight was so turbulent that people all around me were puking in barf bags. It was kind of ironic... a bulimic (in recovery) on a plane where everyone else is puking. If that would've happened years ago, I probably would have acted sick, utilizing those bags myself.
Now back in the city, I've decided to conquer another level of the ED--mental reconditioning. I've blogged before about how I feel guilty for not sticking to my food plan, even though I know I don't have to stick to it perfectly. Recovery is, after all, about balance. But I'm just sick of feeling guilty about it. So, I have two choices: 1.)Stop feeling guilty; 2.) Stick to my food plan. Because I don't know how to stop feeling guilty and can't seem to internalize imperfect abstinence, then my only option is to stick to my food plan.
Usually, I stick to my food plan all day, and then at night I'll eat something unplanned. It isn't because I'm hungry. I get anxiety about eating what I planned. Why? I don't think there is any deeply-rooted reason. I think it's just because I'm not practiced in eating only what's on my food plan. My mind is conditioned to eat off of my food plan. I need to condition it to do the opposite.
So, for today, I'm going to try it.

I'll let you know tomorrow how Day 1 went!!