Shutting Down

My number 1 coping skill, even above ED behaviors, has always been shutting down. Any time I feel any strong negative emotion (angry, sad, hurt, shame, guilt, etc), I have the automatic reaction to cut those off and turn them into anxiety. While anxiety is also a negative emotion, it's one that I'm pretty used to and am somewhat comfortable sitting with. It makes things easier to deal with, but it also has some wicked consequences.

Shutting down prevents me from being 100% vulnerable with the people I care most about. I always have that last protective layer from the really ugly parts of myself. Rationally, I know that they aren't truly ugly, but it's how I feel about the emotions related to my trauma.

I have become comfortable discussing my trauma through treatment and having to retell it to various doctors, counselors, and dieticians, but it's putting the emotion behind it that I continue to struggle with. I tell my life story like it happened to someone else. It's like giving someone the details of a movie plot. I'm detached. I'm emotionless. A robot. This is what happens probably 95% of the time.

The one major time I have been able to push past my automatic shut down mechanism was in a psychodrama group during treatment. Psychodrama is basically a group where someone will use other people or props to discuss something. I chose to go the 3 chair approach. The first chair represented me without ED. The second was my eating disorder. The third represented grief/loss. I have experienced a tremendous amount of loss in my life. From my sophomore year of high school to my last year of grad school (7 years), I lost 11 friends in a variety of ways and all but one of them were unexpected. This coupled with the loss of relationships and other things have crushed me in the grief/loss department.

So, in this type of psychodrama, you have to move yourself between the 3 chairs and talk about what you experience in each of them. I started in the self chair and talked about what my life might look like without using eating disorder behaviors. In the next chair, I talked about my eating disorder and how it kept me safe. Then, I had to move back to my self chair to talk about how I used that middle chair to protect me from my grief.

It’s incredibly hard to sit there and talk about what the real reasons you use your eating disorder are. One of the biggest misconceptions about eating disorders is the idea that they are solely about weight, size, shape, numbers, etc. when, in reality, that’s barely scratching the surface. For me, my eating disorder has primarily served as my wall between myself and those strong emotions that I am extremely uncomfortable with. ED keeps me safe from truly having to feel those things. While that wall keeps the anger and sadness out, it also prevents others from getting in.

So, after those 2 chairs, the worst part comes: having to sit in the chair of grief and loss. Sitting in that chair, I finally had to let myself feel everything about that suicide 8 years earlier, which set the stage for how I dealt with every subsequent loss. As I was talking and (finally) crying about the tremendous guilt I felt for this suicide and how angry I was, I said something about the other losses.

So, the therapist asked me how many other losses I had experienced. She added 2 more chairs: one for my father and another for my first relationship. So now, I had 3 chairs for grief. As I kept talking, she kept adding more chairs for every other loss until I was surrounded. The sheer visual impact of the amount of loss in 10 years was overwhelming and I felt it as I sat there. Then, I had to move back to the first chair.

As I sat in my self chair, I had to look at the number of chairs beyond my eating disorder. Again, just a huge number of chairs, none of which I have ever really dealt with. All of that grief carries a huge amount of weight for me that I work really hard using my eating disorder to keep it out. Without my eating disorder or shutting down, I have to feel all of that, which is too much for me to bear most of the time. So, I stayed numbed out, with or without using behaviors.

One of the most difficult things about my journey in recovery has been allowing myself to have myself and my emotions become one thing instead of these separate entities. Recovery is feeling and experiencing all of the bad that comes with the good, and honestly, I really suck at that. I’m very good at shutting down though.

While it hasn’t been an easy process, I am genuinely trying to reverse this automatic system, because it’s not fair for other people in my life and I don’t want to be this robot forever. It doesn’t go away overnight though. I can’t all of a sudden feel all of these things I’ve been blocking for years. It’s too overwhelming that way. But by taking the steps to try and sit with feelings or to come back from shutting down to discuss what’s going on, I feel like I am taking teeny tiny baby steps towards feelings, as terrifying as that truly is.

Dance- How I Lost My Dreams to Anorexia.

This is probably the hardest blog I have written so far. It's very painful for me to discuss or even think about, which is why I don't talk about it often. But with it coming up more and more, I need to talk about it. If you know me, dance has been such a huge part of my life. It was one of the only constants I ever had growing up. Every time we moved, I was always involved in dance or something similar from city to city, state to state, country to country. Today, I came to the harsh realization that I haven't danced in over a year, which is something I don't think I ever would have thought would happen in my life, but here I am. I'm not dancing.

When I came to St Louis for treatment, I literally picked up and left everything behind. I was in such a bad headspace that I grabbed a pile of clothes from my floor into a bag (none of which even formed an outfit to leave the house in), got on a train, and tried not to look back. I left behind my job, my friends, my apartment, my car, everything. I ended up losing most of those things because of my eating disorder. To me, none of those things matter as much as dance. Losing that has been one of the hardest things for me to face. I can accept losing everything else, but this is has been really painful.

Last year, I was offered the contract of a lifetime. After so many days of auditioning, last minute trips to New York, and blood, sweat, and tears, I had finally done it; I was offered a contract to be a Rockette in New York City. It took me a few days to think about what to do. Had I taken that contract, I would have had to pick up and leave Milwaukee to move to New York City for a few months. I would have had to work another job to make it by, but it was something I had dreamed about since I was 5. I would be on stage at Radio City Music Hall. I chose to turn it down for two very big reasons- 1) I knew I would have to work a 2nd job just to make ends meet and 2) I was so deep in my eating disorder that I didn't think I would physically be able to do it. Two months had passed since my last audition, and I was down 15 pounds. I was barely able to work everyday, let alone dance a 90 minute show multiple times a week. So, I said no.

Things happen for a reason though. The show I was offered a contract for ended up being delayed, so I would have moved to New York for a few weeks of rehearsals and then, nothing. It ended up being the right choice. Little did I know that 2 months after that decision, I would ultimately lose everything anyway.

I haven't actually danced in over a year. The last gig I did was Mondo Lucha in Milwaukee, which was ninja hip hop and so much fun. For the first time in a long time, I was dancing just to have fun again; not to impress anyone or get a job. It was just for me, and I haven't gotten myself to dance since. Even in treatment, we had dance therapy, and I rarely participated. If I was in group that day, I would always sleep or zone out. It was too painful to accept that I wasn't allowed to really dance at that point in time. All I could do was eat a fuck ton of food and sit around in order to put back on all the weight I had lost. It was torture.

Even now, I haven't been able to bring myself to dance for so many reasons, which my eating disorder has a big part of. Being in front of mirrors for an hour where you have to body check to make sure your body is in the right position is incredibly trigger for me right now. All I see is fat and a body that I don't recognize when I look in the mirror. I have never been content in the way that my body looks weight restored. It makes it incredibly difficult to look in a mirror. Also, my eating disorder tells me that I can't go back to class, because I am out of shape, have no stamina, and won't be good anymore. It would be a failure for me to go, so I just avoid it. Finally, I put so much pressure on myself to be perfect in class. Dancing has always been an outlet for me, but it also has been a downfall. When I dance, I can't even describe the feeling. It feels like home; however, I feel like since I had been the best in class before, I have to live up to that in my mind, which is completely stupid. Dance is for me, not anyone else, but I still can't bring myself to do it.

I shudder in my mind to think that I won't ever dance again. Part of me truly believes it while the other can't see my life without that. Recovery has been a really painful journey so far. I have had to look at a lot of aspects of my life, past, and identity. Dance fits into all of those things, so I know in my heart that I need to reincorporate it. It's just a matter of how and when. I'm still not sure I can, but I don't think I or others would recognize me without it. So, it's sink or swim time. My challenge to myself is to take at least one class this month, because I know that I need to to prevent from going insane. I end this blog with this quote, because what is my life without dancing? Not as good as it could be.

Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free

Is Fat a Feeling?

Almost every day, I hear someone in my life or surroundings saying, "Ugh. I just feel so fat today." It's such a common expression in American culture: feeling fat. In eating disorder treatment, they drive home the fact that fat is not a feeling, but rather, it is what we are labeling feelings that we cannot identify or are using eating disorder rationale to discuss emotions. Regardless of what the ED experts say, I know myself and others in recovery really struggle with giving up this idea.

Most days lately, I do truly wake up and say, "God, I feel so fat today." The reasoning changes day to day. It could be that my clothes aren't fitting how I want them to or my jeans are a little tight or seeing my recovered body in the mirror.

Honestly, I still am not used to my recovered body. When you put on 15+ pounds in less than 3 months, it's a shock to your system. The refeeding process is horrifically painful. You have to eat past the point of feeling full, sit with stomach pain and GI issues, and it's time to eat again. Imagine the fullest you have ever been and having to push yourself past that point at least 5 times a day.  To this day, I still have stomach issues, which is what makes this recovery journey that much harder for me. That overly full feeling makes me feel fat.

Rationally, I know that when I am "feeling fat," it's my eating disorder getting into my head. Labeling my emotions as "fat" is a hell of a lot easier than admitting I'm sad, angry, anxious, etc. I have always been pretty disconnected from my emotions, so this is just one more way to keep me that way.

Irrationally, my eating disorder feeds off of this "feeling." ED begins to tell me that that feeling is right. That I am fat, which means I am worthless, unlovable, and all the negative core beliefs I have about myself. It spirals to skipping snacks, not taking my meds, and going from there when I am not in treatment.

Thankfully, I am in treatment. I have the opportunity to discuss these things with my team and others in IOP. I am learning how to truly identify my feelings for what they are. They have been held behind this wall of my eating disorder to keep me "safe" for so long.

Deep inside me, I know there is someone who is so angry at the world and upset with a lot of the things that have happened in my life; things that are honestly truly unfair to any human being. Unfortunately, I don't think I am quite there to let all that out. So, in this moment, I am going to focus on accepting emotions as they come and to try to have compassion towards my new, healthy body.

Selfish vs Selfless

Today in group at treatment, someone talked about being selfish versus being selfless. These two words hold significant weight in the way that we think, feel, behave, etc towards ourselves and others. Selfish is when we are totally focused on our own needs, and selfless is complete focus on the needs of others. In an ideal world, everyone should have a balance of both. We need to focus on our own needs, but also look at the needs of others in order to maintain relationships. My eating disorder completely clouds this.

When I am in a full blown relapse, I tend to be very selfless in a selfish way. How is that even possible? I become very selfless in order to escape the battle in my head. Basically, I am using my selflessness as a way to be selfish. I do it to fulfill my needs, because I cannot handle what is going on in my life. So, I turn to others as a way to be selfish. It doesn't mean that I do not care about others and do not genuinely want what's best for them; however, I do tend to become enveloped in other people's lives and focused on them 100%. Most of my relationships have started in the midst of relapses, because I wanted to give someone else all of the attention in order to not have to focus on myself. This is something I have had to be mindful of in this process. I have found myself running to online dating as a way to take the focus off of myself. So, I have to monitor myself when meeting new people. As the great movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind said, "Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?" Change woman to man and that's me. 

Using others to help me cope with my issues is potentially one of the most selfish things a person can do. It leads to an extreme amount of guilt and difficulties in my relationships, because I don't realize how much I am hurting others by using them for my coping. It also tends to push people away, because I become dependent on them to the point of unbearable. I become too much and people walk out. If they don't walk, I push them away by becoming clingy and then shutting down when a response is given. None of my needs can ever be fulfilled by others, even though I wish they could be. I become selfish, because even though I am attempting to fulfill their needs by doing anything I can, I am not taking care of my own needs, which causes everything to fall apart. So, how do I break this cycle?

In a lot of ways, I have to become selfish for the right reasons. I need to focus on my own personal needs and self-care in order to become a person capable of being selfless with no expectations in return. This involves a great deal of therapy and commitment to incorporating self-care. I have to let myself take breaks and process things. I have to take on only what I can handle and step away from things I cannot. I must take better care of myself and that includes following my meal plan. So, what's my biggest first step that I need to take?

I asked my new therapist to begin going through my timeline and actually talking about it in great detail. I did this the first time I was in treatment in 2 ways. The first was with my individual therapist, but we only hit the highlights and overlooked a lot of the smaller issues, which add up. The second was in a group; however, I have a really difficult time allowing myself to feel the events that have happened in my life. It feels like I am telling someone else's life like I am giving a biography report in school. I try not to connect on it, because my life is exhausting with the amount of trauma I have experienced. To feel all that trauma again is awful. That's the purpose of my eating disorder: to serve as a wall between me and all that crap. Without my eating disorder, all of that comes back and becomes so overwhelming that I shut down and relapse. Unfortunately, it's not enough to have insight as to what happens. Something has to be done about it.

It's time to move forward. It's time to allow myself to experience all the feelings I stuffed down deep inside, because they were too much to bear. It's time to accept that these feelings are okay. They are not bad, just scary. It's time to take away the blame of the things I don't deserve to blame myself for. It's time to heal. It's time to tear down the wall of my eating disorder and create a new whole self that can process the pass and emotionally heal.

Valuing Values

This weekend, I had the wonderful opportunity to go up to Milwaukee with my brother to visit our friends and go to a Brewers game, which is exactly what I needed for my mental health. The best part about these weekends is the time I get to spend with my bestie, Liz (BTW, she blogs about being a new mom here) She and I met under really shitty circumstances.  We met the night before the funeral of our good friend, Mike, who had died unexpectedly overnight of a heart condition that no one ever caught. So, we connected in a group of people at the bar and just clicked. We are basically the same person, except that we disagree on Beyonce.  I could not have survived in Milwaukee as long as I did without her. So, last night we were able to talk about our lives and all the crazy shit that's been happening. We ended up talking a lot about feeling unsatisfied right now for various reasons and looking at making major changes.  So, we talked about values.

In treatment,  I had a therapist that filled in on a week that my primary therapist was out of town. This therapist had me doing a lot of identity work. He and I went through my life's timeline. Then, he picked certain words and had me free associate to them on separate sheets of paper. Later, I had to go back and identify my emotions related to them.  The last word he handed me was my name. I drew a total blank. I literally had no idea how to respond to that. He told me that it was because I was struggling with figuring out who I am. He said that the best way to start is to identify my values.

Values are the ideals that we strive to live by. For me, some of my primary values are honesty, loyalty,  friends, family, and independence.  I believe that if we stick to the things we value, all the choices we make will fall into line and we can be comfortable. If something in our lives conflicts with our values, it leads to anxiety.  We know that these things aren't how we want to live life, so it creates this inner conflict. If one of our values isn't being fulfilled, it leads to depression,  because there is a void that needs to be filled. If we don't figure out what value is lacking, we might turn to negative behaviors to cope but don't exemplify the ideal we want to follow. It sounds easy, but like all things in life and therapy, easier said than done.

So what do we do? I have created a list of my personal values and keep it in my journal.  That way, if I start to feel anxious or depressed, I can look at those things and remind myself that if I have those, I am happy. It's not as easy figuring out if jobs, relationships,  or other things fall in line with those values (especially if society goes against them); however, if we set those ideals for ourselves and strive to follow them daily, our identity will fall in line behind it, even if we don't realize it. In the end, our values and journey to follow them will always be remembered more than making the right choice about changing jobs or moving to new places. But if we follow our guts and values, we just might make it.

Body Image- What the Fuck?

Body image is one of those things in eating disorder recovery that most people say is the hardest part to tackle. We can work on changing our behaviors and obsessions with food, numbers, etc, but there's something about the way we view ourselves and our bodies that is incredibly difficult.

One of the biggest issues is society's view of what "beautiful" truly is. I know the media and their unrealistic standards for beauty always come up in every conversation about body image, but it's so true. Growing up in the 90's, I used to look at pictures of Kate Moss and all these stick thin women that I would idolize. Also, as a ballet dancer, I wanted to be as thin and as light as a feather as possible. Photoshop and air brushing have only made things worse over the last 15-20 years, but most everyone, eating disorder or not, compares themselves and others to these standards. In my eating disorder history, my two most severe relapses were my sophomore/junior year of high school and my last one from last summer until entering treatment. The thinner I got, the most people would comment on how beautiful I was. Why do we force these standards on each other? It only makes it worse. It still happens to this day. I will post pictures from my disordered days, and more people seem to respond to those on social media with positive comments. I feel like I need to be a disclaimer on all of those, so people can know that responding positively to those makes my body image go crazy. Also, if one more person tells me how "healthy" I look, I am going to punch them in the face. My rational side acknowledges that they mean it in a positive way that I don't look like a walking skeleton anymore; however, my irrational side says that they are telling me I look fat. "Healthy" has never meant beautiful. "Thin" or "Skinny" is.

Throughout my treatment process and even now in my recovery, my body image really hasn't changed a whole lot. I have hated my body for as long as I can remember which, in a big way, is related to childhood trauma. I have always felt a strong disconnect between my mind and body. I often feel like my body is not my own, because my brain doesn't match it's hideous outside. It's a betrayal day in and day out by your own brain. How the fuck does one even deal with that? Outside of my healthy mind vs ED mind battle every day, the body image issues are always there. Some days I wake up and can't even choose clothes to wear, because I just feel so fat. "Fat isn't a feeling." Yes, I know. You hear that phrase 10,000 times a day in treatment. But the fact that it feels so shitty when you look in the mirror and hate what you see? Fat might not be a feeling, but it causes some fucked up ones. In my weight restoration, I was eating a fuck ton of calories every day and sitting on my ass. Honestly, that was one of my biggest problems with treatment, and one that I still have issues with today. I don't feel like I weight restored in a "healthy" way, which is also a psychological mind fuck. So, over 20 pounds later, it's been really difficult. I can rationally recognize that I am not an overweight or obese individual. I use evidence (clothes sizes, scales, body checking) to validate that on days when I feel terrible about myself. Yes, I realize all of these are risky behaviors, but some days, you just need to know that your smaller sized pants still fit. It's just that feeling of being so completely uncomfortable in my body that the irrational side comes out and attacks that person in the mirror. I will never be thin enough, pretty enough, or good enough for my insanely high standards. I don't believe anyone could love someone like me, because of all of those things either. When my body image is so bad, I can barely face other people, because I feel like they are judging me, even though my view doesn't match theirs.  I definitely can't let people touch me on those days. I just absolutely hate that one thought about how I look can wreck my entire day and relationships with others.

On a positive note, my body image has improved at least a little. I don't wake up completely hating myself and my body. There are many days where I do, but I do have moments where I can say to myself, "Okay. Not too bad today." My tighter dresses and crop tops have been coming out a little more often. I don't feel the need to wear ginormous sweaters over everything everyday, even though I do most days because I am still always cold and I like to be comfy. I can leave my house without make up, because I can sleep at night without beating myself up, which got rid of my heinous dark under-eyes. Finally, I can begin to accept my flaws, because without them, I wouldn't be me, and I can only hope that, one day, my body image will be positive every day.

Ending with a jam from Bastille, because I am obsessed with this song and play it on bad body image days: