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the Corner Forty is
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The Truth and nothing but... A monthly column featuring
stories, articles and editorials Payson Road is excited to introduce,
The Truth, a quarterly editorial column that is focused on the subject
of Eating Disorders. Unlike our other two columns, the
Corner and The Voice, The Truth is all about ED's. So we want to
hear it. If you've got an article, or a story to share or even medical
information, send it on over. 2005
Archives | 2002 | 2003 | 2004 | 2005 Change - Posts from
the Payson Road Council I fear change more than I can even begin to describe. I know logically that change is inherently bad. But on a “feeling” level, it sends a chill up and down my spine to even think about; especially unexpected changes. Funny. I remember when I first began teaching children with Autism, the running joke amongst my friends was how was I going to teach children who thrived on rigidity and sameness to deal with unexpected changes when I couldn’t do it myself. My response was always the same, … we’ll learn together. I thought that I had learned to do just that… cope with unexpected changes and actually begin to like that sometimes unexpected changes were pleasant surprises. In many ways I have. I don’t get nearly as anxious as I used to. I don’t need the ED/SI behaviors to cope. Sure, the thoughts are still there, but I’ve become familiar enough with grounding techniques and self-talk to keep myself from relapsing. Logically, I’m doing quite well. Emotionally, I’m not so sure I’ve learned to cope with unexpected changes as well as I thought. I’ve recently come to realize that when I allow myself to connect with the feelings surrounding unexpected changes, my body still reacts poorly. Chest tightness, shallow breathing, heart palpitations…. I feel extreme fear and anger. I’ve realized the problem is my brain hasn’t defined these pleasant surprises as unexpected changes on a feeling level. I still react to unexpected changes as if they needed to be feared. It still feels like that’s necessary for survival. Old messages, old habits… die hard I guess. The automatic reaction is still very PTSD like. Later, after the fact… I can now process the feelings. I’m even able to say, “Hey, that wasn’t so bad.” Not something I used to be able to do. Progress. Every small step counts. But in the moment… that’s another story. I guess this is just another example of the fact that recovery work never ends …still more to do. Change When I think of change, I think not so much about how change affects me, but more about how I have changed on my Recovery Journey. Much of this change is documented on this site, in my writings, and poetry and random posts on Payson Road's Online Group, but I think what can't be conveyed in any words I have come up with so far is the deep gratitude I have in my life now. For so long, I believed that the world was against me, that I didn't belong, and its only been through my recovery that I have come to be grateful for what I have, instead of always wishing for something I didn't have. My daily life continues to change. I feel more--of the good, the bad, and the ugly--when I am not actively purging. My life gets out of control easily when I am caught up in that, and the little change is too scary for me. That's another great thing about my recovery, I am not scared of change any longer.
November 2005 Living with someone with bulimia is hard, especially if you have it too. I have bulimia, my Mum has bulimia and my Dad cannot abide wasting food. Practically all arguments in our house revolve around missing food or missing bodies at mealtimes. My Dad tries to understand the best he can but his idea of helping is to feed us. I feel tremendous guilt towards my Dad, I know how difficult it is to live with my Mum and dread to think how it is to live with me too, I can only imagine his despair at being unable to ‘fix’ us. My Mum has always had issues with food but has only recently admitted to her doctor, the family and to herself how serious those issues are. When I first admitted to having a problem with food my family were horrified and told me it was “just a phase I would grow out of.” I have never forgiven them for their reaction but am slowly beginning to understand. Since Mum has been diagnosed with an eating disorder, she believes we have become closer when in fact I tell her less and less for fear of ‘triggering’ her. I have written a letter to her so I can use my voice honestly: Dear Mum, Do you remember when I came home from the eating disorder clinic and you handed me a card. I still have the card and the words mean so much to me. You wrote that you understood and were sorry for not supporting me through my struggles; you suggested we should take this opportunity to start afresh, being honest with one another. We have not done that and I accept this is partly my doing. However, I feel I need to be honest with you now hence this letter. Since admitting you have issues surrounding food, which I am so proud of you for doing, I cannot help but think SO WHAT! I told you I had forgiven you for not being there to support me, which I have on some levels, but there is still a huge part of me that hasn’t, all the more so when you are seeking my support for yourself. Having said that, I am aware this is my issue, something I need to work though - perhaps with your help. I want you to be aware of the impact your bulimia is having on me, I am not pushing the blame but I need you to recognize, just because I have had years of treatment including inpatient I am not ‘cured’. Yes, I have more control than previous years, I can accept criticism and rationalize a lot of my thoughts and feelings but each day is still an ongoing battle for me. This may shock you as we have not discussed me in many months or even years, then again you may have sensed all this. You often ask my advice on what to eat, when to eat, how much to eat, do I think you have eaten enough / too much. Mum, I cannot answer these questions, you need to answer these yourself or perhaps with a professional? We organized a therapist for you, you were not ready then but I urge you to see someone as soon you are, it really helped me. Especially to discuss things you feel you cannot share with me - I know there are some. Mum, I also need you to stop comparing yourself to me, telling me how jealous you are of me. I can see how you may think this is building my self-esteem but if I am honest, it makes me angry, angry that you then beat yourself up and also angry that those comments make me feel guilty. The guilt then sends me into the cycle again. These comparisons also trigger me (my issue again) into a silent competition with you, comparing weight gain, weight loss, food consumed etc. As for the weight gain / loss, we need to throw out the scales Mum. I think we both know that they are a major trigger for both of us. When you gave me the scales to hide so you could not use them, I used them more. Let us make a pact, let’s throw them out. If we need to be weighed, we can do it at the doctors or at the chemist but lets not do it at home. Mum, I love you with all my heart and reading this has probably hurt you even though it was not meant too. We do need to be honest with each other and sometimes this is the easiest way. You are not alone in your struggle Mum so please do not try to recover alone but remember I am not a therapist, I am your daughter. One thing I have learnt in recovery is that we need to address our needs, this is me addressing my needs and by no means disregarding yours. Love ya loads B xxx Acceptance “And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation—some fact of my life—unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment…” My good friend directed me to the above reading, during a recent phone conversation. As those of you who have been reading the Truth know, I have been working on my Amends for months now, and one of the ones I have not yet done is my sister. It’s been a challenge for me, because one of the ways in which I interfere in her life, is by telling her how to parent my niece, and I know that when I make my amends, that behavior must change. Recently, I had to have surgery, a pretty significant surgery, and I had been researching it all summer, before making the decision. I first tried to tell her about it back in May. I began something like this, “I have to see a surgeon and the consultation fee is $375”, to which I would have continued the conversation, had she not changed the subject to focus on herself, without even asking what I was seeing a surgeon for. Three more times, I tried to bring it up, again, her focusing on her own life, and completely ignoring me. By this time I was pissed and resentful. I have to be honest though; I wasn’t as upfront as I could have been, after the first time, mainly because I was so resentful and in disbelief that she could be so selfish and self-centered. I decided I would go about the surgery and not tell her at all. She called while I was at the hospital, and made a comment about how she didn’t even know I was in the hospital. Can you believe the nerve? Well, I couldn’t, and that really led me to what my point is about this writing. I should have believed it. If I were to accept her as she is, then I would of course know that she would be selfish, and self-centered, that she is incapable of admitting her faults, and really wouldn’t know where to start. I would accept that she is a sick person. And I would quit expecting her to be someone she isn’t. Detach with Love. Hmm…that is a tough one for me, and something I must really work on. Because it is me who suffers if I can’t learn to accept her for whom she is. I want her to be an attentive sister. I want her to step up and ask me what I need, how I am doing, what’s new in my life. I want her to send me a Birthday card, or at least call on my birthday (before 9pm, when my mom has reminded her its my birthday). I want her to be a responsible person, get a job, be a good mom, and quit hurting my niece with her current situation. I want her to quit being so selfish and self-centered. And all the while, I don’t accept that she is not this person I want her to be. It doesn’t make her a bad person; I must see her as a sick person in that way, not for her, but for me. I am not blameless. It’s my own false expectations that cause the resentment I have toward her. I also can be very judgmental and really can get on a role telling her how to live her life. If not that, there are always the blank stares, the passive-aggressive comments I make. So as I spoke with my friend, I told her, “I know my behavior has been wrong with all this surgery stuff. I am just getting more and more resentful towards her, and I can’t take this drama, this drama I am creating myself.” She, my great friend, directed me towards page 449, and told me to read that each day, and think of my sister. After two weeks, I am to write my amends out to her, and then make an appointment to meet with her. Yikes, that’s a scary one. But I have to be willing, because if I am not, I will find no serenity. And above all, my serenity, my program of recovery—they must come above all else September 2005 I can only write about which I know, and right now, I know about amends. It’s been a huge part of my life these last few months. I am on this road of recovery, and I hope you all don’t mind going for another ride with me on the Amends Road. The Ninth Step—Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others." is not about easing our guilty consciences; it's about taking responsibility for the wrongs we've done. What I’ve done. My most recent amends that I had to make was a BIG ONE. I mean BIG. I caused a lot of harm. I told myself at the time, that my intentions were good, that I didn’t cause that much harm, I mean it’s not as though I murdered someone. When I looked honestly and fearlessly at my past though, I realize that the harm I caused was great, and that no amount of good intentions could change that. I had a lot of fear about doing this one. At the same time, I had so much peace about it, knowing that it was the only sure way to grow in my recovery. I planned and thought and reviewed this with my sponsor and just tried not to obsess too much. This amends required that I fly down to Southern California and the whole flight there my stomach was in knots. As I waited for the person to show up, the knots began to tie themselves into knots. It occurred to me, as I sat there and waited, that no amount of obsessing relieves me of the fear. I wasn’t going to say the perfect thing. I was very likely going to leave something out, or cry when I didn’t want to. It just didn’t matter. What did matter what my willingness to be there anyway. To step up and say, I was wrong, and I don’t intend to cause harm in this way again. It mattered that I asked if this person needed to tell me how my actions affected her. It didn’t matter what she replied, simply that I was willing to ask. It mattered that I asked if there was anything I could do to make it right, not what she actually asked me to do. It just didn’t matter at all that I did all this with tears streaming down my face, while she was able to keep her composure. It didn’t matter that she looked the same, while I have gained weight. It didn’t matter that all was not forgiven, just that I was willing. It actually went much better than I thought it would, as I have found to be the case with most things in life. She didn’t scream and shout, she didn’t walk out on me, or tell me to F-off. But it wouldn’t have mattered if she had. All that mattered was I was there, willing to make amends, and willing to change my future behavior. It doesn’t matter that she wronged me, just as much as I wronged her, and that she didn’t make her amends to me. Her part doesn’t matter. It is my part, my side of the street that I was there to take care of, and I did just that. Amends My name is Leslie, and I am bulimic and a compulsive overeater. I have been working the 12 steps and have found myself on Step 9--Made direct amends to all people we had harmed, except when to do so would harm them or others. This has been an intense time for me. For so long, I thought that the things I had done in my past, 'were not that bad'. My intentions were good after all. I was just trying to help others. I have found through working the steps that the things I have done in my past were bad. I have been like a tornado going through people's life and have caused wreckage and pain to which no amount of 'good intentions' can justify. My good intentions, and 'just trying to help' attitudes were in fact selfish and self-centered attempts to control everyone and everything around me. This has not been easy for me to admit. I haven't wanted to look at things that I have done, and admit that I caused harm. For me, that is why I stayed in my disease so long. Why I still go back to binging and purging. Recently, my pain became worse than my fear, and I became willing to go to any lengths to recover. I set to work on my steps and reached Step 9 with a willingness I have not felt before. There are some big amends to make. I started with my first 2 a couple of weeks ago, and made them to my mom and my aunt when I visited over the 4th of July weekend. A couple of things happened. 1. I started bawling like a baby, before I even got out, "I am in a 12 step program, and part of that program is to make amends to the people I have wronged in my past, and I know I have wronged you." It went more like, "I am....sniffle, boo.....in a...hiccup, sniffel...12 step program....waaaa, sniffle...and part of that...waaaprowaaagramsniffeliscrywaato.....ok, you get the idea. 2. I realized my behavior has harmed people in a way I didn't realize. After I told my Aunt how I had harmed her, and asked if she needed to add anything, or tell me how it made her feel, she described a pain and fear that made me feel sick. Sick that my bahavior caused this. That I was too selfish to see the pain I was inflicting. That I was too busy justifying my wrongs with her wrongs, that I didn't care if she was in pain. 3. That some amends are easier than others 4. That making amends doesn't change another, it only changes me. The person I made amends to, may still be just as crazy today, as they were before I made the amends (and probably will be), but that isn't the point. 5. When I was done with my amends, I felt a relief that I have never felt before. A peacefulness that is beyond words to which I am very grateful to my Higher Power for. I have written many amends, and contacted people for appointments, and know this is where I need to be. I have a fear of crying in front of people, and I know that is my own pride and ego. I have prayed for the relief from that, while I go forward in making my amends. When I say I have prayed, I just want to clarify, I am not a religion person, but have definitely become spiritual, so for those of you that are atheist, or agnostic, I just want to say that you don't have to be religious for this to work. I have a lot of pain and fear that tells me not to do this. There are a lot of amends I must make where people have harmed me as much (or more) than I have harmed them. My recovery is not about them, it is about me. I cannot change them, I can only change myself. I have found I need extra time alone these days. To meditate. To write, to keep my mind clear. The Promises tell me, that if I am painstaking about this phase of development, I will be amazed before I am halfway through. I am going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. I will not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it. I will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in my fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. There are more, but my point is this--the rigorous honesty that is required for me to heal my eating disorder is worth it to me, today. A Sister’s Story I have been a member of Payson Road Friends and Family Support Group for about four years now. My original goal in joining the support group was to better understand what my sister was going thru and to possibly get some advice on what to do to help her. Our family is very close and very protective of each other and it had just been killing us to see her doing these things to herself. My sister has two gorgeous children, nine and two. Neither of these children have their Dad around so they need her more than anything. I first found out my sister was a bulimic five years ago. I was getting ready to move to another state and this came as a great shock to me. She had been rapidly losing weight but I had never put two and two together. I really knew nothing about the disorder until then. Not only was she rapidly losing the weight due to the bulimia, she was also battling with drugs and alcohol. We were getting very concerned the next thing we knew she was in a hospital after a bad car accident in which she nearly died. I can’t imagine life without her. Although the accident helped her realize her drug and alcohol problems the bulimia got even worse. I never knew I could feel so helpless and unable to help someone that I loved so much. She constantly says she is too fat and needs to lose weight, but only in her eyes. She was deteriorating fast. She just did not look healthy at all, very worn and thin. We eventually tried to have an intervention of some kind with my parents and my brother and me but it did not really do any good. We threatened things and tried to make her go into treatment but she won’t listen. I know I spent countless night crying and wondering when her poor body would give out and what I would tell her kids. It sometimes angered me to think of how upset my mom and dad were and how stressed they had become. I have bought books and done tons of research online and I know I will not fully understand this disorder since I do not have it but I will do everything in my power to try and understand it and to be there for her. I am not exactly sure how much she does the binging and purging now but she has looked healthier than she has in years. I just want my sister back, all of her. I want her to realize she is beautiful no matter what. We think she is not doing it as much and I hope to God that is true. My Truth I was asked to share my story, from the perspective of a male point of view. I was hesitant at first to do this because it felt very similar to a “First Step” that I was asked to do when I was inpatient and I really didn’t want to travel down that path again. After ruminating for a few days, I realized that writing (even if nobody reads it) was and is very beneficial to me. I have been battling anorexia and bulimia for 23 years. It started when I was 14 and joined the wrestling team. I had been on the team for 5 years at that point but to be more competitive I wanted to drop to a lower weight division. It progressed from there. Both of my parents are bulimic. I don’t write that to lay the groundwork for an excuse but as background material. I struggled for many years with the ED and compounded the issue with drug and alcohol abuse. When I was 25 I got married to the girl that I had been with since I was 17. The ED and the drug use seemed to be under control. For the first time in my life I felt like I had a purpose. At this point I started my own business and started neglecting everything else. It didn’t take long for the spiral to begin and when it did, boy it really tried to take me out. In November of 2002 I was working on a tractor and standing on the tire. I hadn’t eaten in a couple of days. I passed out and fell off the tractor. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital with tubes connected to me everywhere. My family decided an intervention was in order and together we came to the decision to be admitted to The Radar Institute. At this point I was down to 124 lbs. Not very good when you are 5’-11”. All the sudden I am in hospital with nothing but women and I am wondering what’s wrong with me. How come I am the only male here? I don’t feel like I belong in the real world and now I come to a place where people are suffering with the same issues that I am and I still can’t find a place that I can relate to. It took a lot of hard work and many nights of wanting to leave before I started looking for the similarities instead of the differences. Wow, these people really care about me as a human being. But now I am having to confront the issues that I have trying so hard to repress through the ED, drug use and cutting on myself. I spent 6 months in the facility making so many new friends, some that I still have today, and working on myself and my self worth. I would love to say that I left Radar and everything was wonderful but that’s not my truth. My truth is that I still struggle everyday. I feel like a stranger in my own skin and some days I don’t think I can take anymore of this. I have attempted suicide a few times and it was devastating to think that I was a failure at that also. It is very strange to be a male and be afflicted with a disease that is considered to a female issue. People often wonder if I am gay. I am not homophobic but it’s another reminder that I am different. It seems that most of my close friends are women and I feel more comfortable talking and sharing with them. I think that there are numerous men suffering just as you and I are but are too afraid to do anything about it. I get that feeling. I have moved a couple of times since I left Radar (my wife filed for divorce the day of my discharge) and have made a concerted effort to find meetings to attend. A few times when I have gone to a new meeting I have been pulled aside and told not to come back because it makes the women uncomfortable having a man in the group. That is a difficult thing to deal with. I just needed to talk and I felt like an outsider once again. It was hard to have my motives questioned when these people didn’t even know me. I know the feeling of being an outcast. I have found a very welcoming group that I attend every Thursday night and I feel comfortable there. A friend from Radar told me about Payson Road and I feel like I benefit greatly here. (I am forever grateful Laurie M.) I am also grateful to all the wonderful people who take the time out of their own lives to answer my posts and give me support. I know that you are struggling also and when you manage to give me words of encouragement, it means a lot. I don’t know if I would have made it through some of those trying days without the support of the people I trust and care for. Thank you all for being there for me. I hope that I can repay all the kindness. Peace to all of you and be kind to yourselves this month. Everybody deserves to find happiness and fulfillment. Accepting the Present I have a new goal in my recovery process. Not an addition, or even a clarification, but a whole new overriding goal. My goal is to be the healthiest version of myself that I am capable of being. Now, that is kind of loaded as I could be using that as a cop out. But, I know that is not what I am saying or doing. The healthiest I can be right now may be very different from what that can be in a year or two, even next week. However, that does not mean that I get any less credit for where I am at this given moment. There are parts of me that want to be as good at recovery as I was at being sick, but that is going to take a lot of time. It took me 10 years of meeting full blown diagnostic criteria for bulimia to be as "good" at it as I was. I can change many aspects of my behavior now, but everything will not change overnight. I need to accept that. With that acceptance comes a calmness that will ultimately facilitate more change. I spent a lot of time in therapy being mentally beaten down. I left the first round (after almost 2 years), convinced that I was unable to tackle my food issues, recover from my sexual assault....and, oh by the way, you have ADD, OCD, an alcohol problem, sleep issues, a lifestyle that is atypical (therefore abnormal), etc, etc, etc. Okay, so maybe I have elements of all these problems, but that doesn't mean they are all ruining my life. I think any person in this world can be borderline anything, especially when you are searching for problems. I think personality traits could be defined as disorder, when looked at in a certain light. People are not robots. I also was convinced that I compartmentalized too many things and that that was not healthy behavior either. I’ve now decided for me that coping mechanisms can be valuable, even if some have the potential to go awry. They serve a purpose. The goal now becomes to figure out how to turn them off when their purpose has been served. Last week, I stopped by to see my old therapist. I had a postcard for my next dance concert I wanted to give her and decided to drop it off in person. I also hadn't seen her in about 3 months, was headed towards RENFREW when I left her care, and am now doing 100 times better. The first few minutes of our conversation were good, and then she took it too far. I wasn't there for a session. I was there to tell her how I was doing (much better!) and to see if she wanted to come see me dance. My initial gut reaction to her questions was to completely shut down. She is a wonderful woman, but is not a good match for me. We kept coming back to "normal." That would be great, if I knew what the hell that was. I knew it wasn’t working when I was under her care, but terrified to change. With a bit of perspective, I am now able to see that changing therapists was one of the best decisions I ever made. My point is that I want to be the best version of myself that I am capable of. There is no elusive and unattainable “normal.” Being able to value my self worth and my skills and abilities now becomes the task of the moment. Not to be judged, just to be accepted. Organizing my thoughts into compartments, sometimes even choosing to shut some out at times, is okay too. It's different to make a conscious decision to do that for a period of time, as opposed to just dismissing something to the depths of my brain forever Silencing the gremlin in my head (as I so fondly named the ED voice) is very different from dismissing that I have a problem at all. Yes, there was a time when I didn't understand the difference. It was a black and white, all or nothing, situation. In some ways I was doing a "better job" of my recovery a few weeks ago. I was gung ho everything, following all the rules, but that all crashed on me Nothing like the crashes of before, but enough to cause me to stop and think. I need to keep moving forward, but need to do it at a sustainable pace. It's not a race to see who gets better the fastest. It's about the daily decisions and the enjoyment of living my live. I have moments where I am insanely jealous of those here who haven't purged in months or years. So, I purged about 10 times in 3 months, but that's 3 months that could have been better, right? No, that's three months where I didn't alternate between starving and binging and purging 3-5 times a day. That is how I need to think about it in order to keep moving forward. I need to give myself credit for where I've come from, not to race in some challenge that only I am aware of. I mostly want to express how valuable it is to find one's own voice and path in this whole recovery process. I am learning both that skill and its value as each day passes. Walking the Plank at the Grocery
Store The Truth is....that I need to go grocery shopping. It's a fairly common thing in America. You take stock of your cabinets and cupboards at home, you prepare a list of things you need, you earnestly write them on a list. You actually might clip coupons, bring recipes with you to the store...how many thousands of people are doing just this task at just this very minute.....and why can't I????? Why does it all unravel the minute I walk in? Other tired shoppers seem to wheel their grocery carts in a zombie trance, head bent with cell-phone crooked into their shoulders, multi-tasking, distracted, not giving a rat's ass if it's Kellogg's or General Mills, Nabisco or Keebler that they fling into their carts and keep marching....... Me? You would see me pick up the box of crackers, turn it over, frown in agony. "Oh no! The sign says "Buy one get one free!" Put it back! Pull it down again. Check ingredients. Rub my pulsing temples. There, it's back on the shelf. Now walk away. Go to the milk section. Oh no! Not the Hostess donut display right near the milk. Circle the donut display. Cart is still empty. Decide to head to "safe zone" - the produce aisle. I'm okay. Carrots, cucumbers, lettuce. But what to buy? What to make for dinner? What to feed the "normal" people that are waiting at home for Mom to appear with supper plans? With eyes darting nervously I begin to steal glances at other shopper's carts. This lady here seems to have it together. She's got a tired look on her face as she pulls a 10 lb. bag of dog food down from the shelf. Why does the dog food suddenly look delicious to me? I must get out of this store. I blindly wheel over to the deli, where rotisserie chickens are circling behind warm glass. I sigh. My head is spinning. I'm not thinking clearly, so enamored/repulsed by all of these smells, sights and sounds. Do they have a little aerosol bottle of chocolate chip cookie spray that they spritz in the air in the bakery section when they see me coming? Am I the only one who seems to have carrot cakes leap into my cart? If an alcoholic were forced into liquor store and had to buy beer, wine, rum and vodka for the people they lived with who could handle an occasional cocktail, would he or she feel this turmoil? This indecision and this bumbling fear? The simple task of grocery shopping.....once a somewhat normal thing in my life. The Truth is, nothing is normal in my life right now. Foreword, by Leslie Freeman As I read through this story, I saw myself in many aspects. For me, the act of writing this story, even though it “stresses her out”, is both courageous and inspiring. Although she still struggles with her eating disorder behaviors, this act of purging through creative expression is absolutely what Payson Road is all about. It is honesty, fear, and hope all wrapped up into one. This drive for perfection in all that we do is very common among people with eating disorders and it personally renders me incapable of taking any action. Today, writing was your action, and I commend you for that. Thank you so much for your submission and please, keep speaking your Truth! Finding a Turning Point The truth is that writing my story stresses me out. I don't have a problem sharing what I will say, just the pressure of getting this "right." I guess that could seem kind of silly, but many ways is the sole reason for how I got myself where I am today. That perfectionist defines too much of whom I am and how I operate. First of all, you should know that this has been a 10 year battle for me. Not that I was able to truly recognized that I had a problem during most of this time. I have been in therapy for this for over a year and a half now, although it didn’t start out as treatment for my eating disorder, but from a traumatic event. As I saw some success and started to feel better, I was able to look at my eating disorder. I’ve worked with a couple of therapists, a psychiatrist and then a nutritionist most recently added to the mix. November was hell for me. A true rock bottom of my eating disorder. I'm not exactly sure of all the pieces that led me to that place, just that my behaviors quickly got more out of control than they had ever been. And yes, I did think I was in control. What self deception that was. I'm not completely sure what turned things around for me, but knew I was in big trouble when those closest to me started losing faith in my ability to beat this. That hit home in a much bigger way than any physical symptoms or hours spent in the ER ever had seemed to. The rational part of my brain knew that without their support I was in a pretty dangerous place. Not to mention that I was really lonely and scared. There was enough of my cognitive self left to fully feel that loss. I may have had unconditional love, but was wearing thin their unending support. November fed into December, which fed into early January. I did elect to go off my medication the end of November, which for me was the right choice. I was starting to feel like a guinea pig as far as meds were concerned, having taken seven different ones in as many months. This was all this with no lasting success or help. After the holidays, I started working with a new therapist and continued work with my amazing nutritionist. My nutritionist asked me to bring her a list of my rules surrounding when I would and would not feel safe eating. After trying to structure some "safe" eating times into my schedule, she and I realized that I'd built all my food rules so that I was basically never allowed to eat and have it be okay. I had a complete list of perfect excuses that made my purging justifiable. Trying to change those rules became absolutely overwhelming. To the point where I was fearful for my own physical safety. Scared to be alone with myself. After a particularly bad weekend, I knew I had to make some choices. I did a lot of thinking and came up with a list of a few "safe" foods...the timing thing wasn't going to work and that was obvious to me. Intellectually, I understand that food is neither good nor bad, safe or unsafe, but knew that emotionally I needed that as a starting place. This thing was that it worked. We built a food plan that only contained "safe" foods and I stuck to it like glue. I made it almost 4 weeks without purging of any kind and was immensely proud of myself. Due to some pretty sad, scary and intense situations in my life that have occurred in the past 2 weeks, I have been throwing up again on occasion. I tell myself all the reasons why it's not a healthy, or even successful, coping mechanism, but end up over the toilet anyway. This is scary to me, as the “reason” for purging is quickly compounded to include all the weight and body image issues. That may not be the initial trigger, but it lays in wait for me. Ready to attack me when I least expect it. My profession dictates I look a certain way. Spoken or unspoken, I have that hanging over my head every minute of my existence. At one point, I spent months trying to label triggers. I think that was unsuccessful for me, beacause this is not a one issue disorder. It all gets twisted, convoluted and complicated faster than I could identify and/or process. I’m not sure where I go from here, just will keep trying to move forward as best as I am able. Knowing that demanding perfection of myself will only make this worse, I'm trying to take it all in stride. I need to recognize how far I've come in a month, not dwell on how far I still have to go and/or what slips there have been thus far. My life will calm back down and I'll again be able to focus on my recovery from a place of less stress and anxiety. I'm aware of how cyclical this is, also how quickly it can spiral out of control. That is knowledge I didn't have at one point, and knowledge I will use to further my recovery. I can't change the world (which is very sad for me), or even my own world overnight. This recovery business is both frustrating and challenging, but a process I am trying to open my heart and soul to in hopes of beating this. The truth is that I wish to live my life from a place of more joy, acceptance and honesty, with less sadness, hatred and deception February 2005 I remember the day as if it were yesterday. November 7, 2003. My last day of work with SEDOM, and the day I pledged to truly take care of myself. A year and some odd months later, I sit behavior free. But confused and lonely. I'm without eating disordered behaviors, but not without eating disordered thoughts. And once again, I'm reminded that recovery is a process. I still attend a women's trauma group weekly and go to individual therapy. Last night I sat with four other women who are dealing with the same core issues as me, fear, anger, abandonment, abuse, self-hatred. The list goes on. Some of them still active in their behaviors, others with thoughts, but no behaviors like me. The format of the group is always the same. We begin with reactions and updates and then decide what issues require more time to process. All of us struggle with feeling entitled to spend time on ourselves. And my therapist has made it known that she wants us to learn to vocalize what our needs are; to say, “I need help.” It is a difficult statement for someone with a trauma history to make, but a very important one. And last night I spoke those 3 important words, “I need help.” So did my friend. She’s been doing some inner child work. Important. But no more important than the work on boundaries that I needed help with. As I sat and listened to my therapist talking to my friend about how little, insignficant, and abandoned she’d feel if she didn’t get the time she needed, there was no mention of the fact that I too, needed time. With 7 minutes to spare, it still had not been recognized that I needed help. My therapist was continuing to direct her attention towards my friend and I was being asked to be supportive of her process and give my reactions towards her. While everyone else spoke in a gentle and supportive manner, I sat angry and jealous. Why? Because I felt like she mattered and I didn’t. I know that my therapist had not intentionally forgotten that I needed time as well. I know that my therapist is quite aware that I struggle with feeling validated even more now that I’m no longer active in the behaviors. But in the moment I was not thinking in a logical and mature way. I was feeling hurt, little, insignificant. Another member said I appeared about 4 years old as I sat with a blanket wrapped entirely around my body, sinking down into the couch, and clutching a pillow. I wanted to yell, scream, cry, and tantrum. I wanted to curse my therapist because I am just as needy as someone else. And the whole time the old tapes of my step father telling me I’m being melodromatic and overly sensitive are playing in my head. With a minute to spare, I told my therapist I was hurt and angry that she forgot about me. I told her that I’m struggling to avoid behaviors and this experience reinforced the idea that if you behave, you get your needs met. Why? My friend had been doing inner child work. She is very connected to herself at a young age, often acts like a 2 year old within the group setting. And she is remembered. She yells, she cries, she behaves. And her needs are met in the sense that she gets the attention that I so desperately need as well. I ask for it. I NEED HELP. I say it loudly. And I’m ignored. In recovery we’re encouraged to vocalize. Recovery is supposed to be about learning to get your needs met in healthier ways. And I tried it. And it didn’t work. My intitial thought was to abandon recovery entirely. This isn’t the first time I’ve had this experience since I let go of the behaviors. My friend was little and behaving. Her pain was validated. She was remembered. And I sit here now, wondering why I’ve gone into recovery. I wonder why I put the behaviors behind me. I wonder how I’m going to find a way to continue to use my voice to get my needs met, when I’m not reinforced for doing so. I’m in a very confused place right now. I’m still safe. I’m still pursuing recovery. But I am left wondering how I can continue to use my voice when I don’t feel heard. After all, that’s what started all of this madness in the first place. This was written before having time to process further with my therapist. I have since done so. I still don’t have the answers. I still am confused and unsure of how to get my immediate needs met without behaving. And I don’t know the answers. For now, I keep telling myself that this is all a part of the process. I keep telling myself that even if I can’t see it in the moment, the long term benefits of learning to vocalize my needs are worth continuing the process. It’s Not My Business The Truth is….It’s not my business.
That is my latest conclusion on this path I have in recovery.
For those of you who don’t know, I am working a 12 step program for my
eating disorder(in addition to the things I do here at Payson Road) and over the
weekend I read my 4th step to my sponsor.
The point of a 4th step is that you do a searching, fearless
moral inventory. You write down
every person, place or institution that you have any resentments, fear or guilt
toward. Then you write down what it
is, how it affects you, and finally your part in it. It’s the “your part in it” that
has led me to this latest awareness about myself.
As I sat with my sponsor, reading aloud all of the people who wronged me,
who I wronged and my fears, they had a common denominator.
Well, many actually, but the one I am writing about today is how so many
of these resentments and guilt would not have been possible if I had just stayed
out of other people’s business. A few examples: My
resentments towards my aunt because she takes advantage of my mom financially.
“It’s not my business.” I
could go into many arguments for why she is wrong, and I am right, and how
really it’s important that I get involved and make sure she stops.
But the fact of the matter is, my mom, while at times unable to make
sound decisions, has made the choices that have led to her situation when she is
able to make sound decisions. She
still chooses to allow my aunt to spend all of her money.
It’s not my business. It
doesn’t matter why she does it, or that it’s wrong, because it’s not my
business. (Please forgive me if I overuse this, but I have to keep reminding
myself, and making it my mantra is the only way I can.) My
resentments towards my sister because she doesn’t take care of her children.
Again, let’s all say it, “IT’S
NOT MY BUSINESS.” Really this
one is probably the hardest one for me to accept, because I get so protective of
children. It pains me greatly to
see children be mistreated, because they don’t have their own voice. It brings up so many of my own pains as a child; just wishing
someone would step in and stop the insanity of my life.
Now that’s my business. But
I am not going to be anyone’s savior. And
no amount of lecturing, screaming, yelling, or attempt at controlling will
change that fact. All I can do is
live my life as an example. Ok,
this one is still tough for me, but I know, “it’s
not my business.” My
resentments to my old employer because they I didn’t agree with their business
ethics. Yep, you got it, “NOT MY BUSINESS!” I
can certainly tell you, if you would like to know, every single thing they ever
did wrong, and why their business will surely fail. You probably don’t really care, because at least you
realize it’s not your business. Too
bad I didn’t realize that, it may have saved me a month of being unemployed.
These are just a few examples of how if
I stayed in my own business, I could have many less resentments, guilt and
fears. And more importantly I would
have much more time for my own life. Because, I don’t know about you, but for
me, when I am all up in other people’s business, I have no time to take action
in my own life, and it spins out of control; which leads to binging and purging,
and overspending, and a messy house. I have this very ingrained sense of
right and wrong. It certainly
wasn’t instilled in me as a child, from example, but more my own way to cope
with what I surely knew was wrong in my family.
The thing is, it’s not as though I choose right from wrong all the
time, it’s that I think things should absolutely happen the right way (even if
I don’t do it that way). I get
very indignant when I feel as though things are not being done the right way,
and I have this need to control the situation to try and put it back on track.
Really, it’s very self-centered of me, to think that just my existence
in a situation will fix it. Am I
really that important? That
all-knowing? It is that sense of right and wrong
that leads me into other people’s business.
I can rationalize it all if given half a chance, and pretty soon, even
though it has nothing to do with me personally, it is MY business.
What is very evident from my work
yesterday is this. I need to focus
on my own life, and affect those changes to MY life, that I can.
I cannot change others, and I make myself crazy when I try.
And if I am talking too much, usually, IT’S
NOT MY BUSINESS. The Truth
is published monthly. New articles appear on the first of
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