Embracing Unpredictability

Instead of studying for finals yesterday, I spent the morning trudging through snowmageddon with my mum and brother. Because of a rather un-foreboding weather forecast, we'd thought that we would be able to make it home from church before the weather got bad, but our 24 year-old car ended up sliding down an ice hill, and we had to abandon it in the middle of the city and seek shelter in our friend's tool shed. By the time he got home to break us out of it, the roads were buried, and we ended up staying the night without access to any of our homework. Yay, finals!

Needless to say, I am so incredibly grateful our hero-friend saved us from the snowstorm. We got locked in his shed, and when he showed up wearing a Santa hat to break us out of it, we were soaked and covered in the purple-red hues of pre-frostbite. I swear that I've never been so happy in my life to have a cup of tea before . . . even if the inspirational quote on the tea bag made me feel a bit foolish for having gone out that morning:

"One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning."

Thank you, James Russell Lowell. I'll remember that.

Anyway, we made it back to our poor sweet car today and dug him out of his snow pile enough to get home, and we're desperately trying to make up for our lost study time now. The semester ends this week, so I'm trying to write as fast as possible, but I wanted to take a quick break to post here a little bit because last night got me thinking a lot about practicing gratitude and embracing unpredictability. Both of these things are so crucial to eating disorder recovery.

Found on Yoga for Wellness

One of the things that an eating disorder promises us is control. Often, we become vulnerable to eating disorders in part because something about our lives feels out of control, and we believe that if we control every aspect of what we eat, we'll find a sense of safety and calm. Ironically, though, having an eating disorder actually means losing control to an illness. We give up our sanity, our health, and our happiness for control that we don't actually have. Isn't that scary?!

I know I make this comparison a lot, but Gollum's relationship with the One Ring in The Lord of the Rings is a really good metaphor for the relationship someone has with an eating disorder. Gollum thinks that possessing the One Ring gives him control in his life, but in reality, the One Ring is a very unhealthy fixation for him. I mean, he's willing to spend eternity hunched over in a dark cave talking to himself and cradling the ring like it's the only thing he cares about. "My precious . . . ."

When I think of my eating disorder obsessions, I try to imagine Gollum and the One Ring, and then I realize that an eating disorder--as "in control" as it may make me feel--is ultimately going to ruin my life if I don't fight it, regardless of how counter-intuitive and stressful non-disordered behaviors may seem. But every day that I don't do the hardest workout and every Friday night that I eat a bowl of Luna & Larry's on the couch with my brother is another step closer to freedom.

And as for practicing gratitude . . . my mum and I have been trying to follow some of Lesley Fightmaster and Adriene Mishler's yoga videos on YouTube, and they usually include mindfulness lessons woven in with the actually asanas themselves. A few days ago, we did a yoga video that included a quote from The 7 Book: How Many Days of the Week Can be Extraordinary? by Dan Zadra and Kobi Yamada:

30,000 mornings, give or take, is all we’re given. If you’re 26, you still have 20,000 left. If you’re 54, you still have 10,000. An accident or illness could change all that, of course. But let’s count on you to remain safe and healthy all your allotted life—in which case you still have plenty of time. Sort of.

“We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well,” wrote composer and author Paul Bowles, who lived to the ripe old age of 32,442 mornings. “Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. 

“How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.” 

30,000 mornings. We’ll spend some of them on the treadmill, or fighting traffic, or standing in line at the Starbucks store. Just be sure to spend some of yours seeking and savoring the real beauty, mystery, and adventure of your days. This is your life, your one and only life—don’t miss a day of it.

Yesterday, I spent one of my 30,000 mornings hiking to safety in a tool shed, but my family and I didn't die in an accident, and we got to spend the evening with each other and a dear friend instead of spending it obsessing over homework. So I'm grateful for yesterday. Focus on the mornings, the evenings, the mid-days . . . see every moment as an individual piece of time that you've been granted. The freer moments are the ones when the eating disorder isn't in charge. You can do recovery and get your moments back for yourself. I believe in you.

And before I go . . .please be careful if you're in dangerous weather!

<3 <3 <3

Keeping Your Head in Recovery

Eating disorders and the holidays . . . oh, my. Between missing deceased relatives, reconnecting with loved ones, dealing with stress, and trying to balance life, love, pain, and work, holidays are fraught with ambivalence for everyone, but eating disorders add an element of anxiety that most don't understand. Whenever my brother sees a look of fear cross my face at the mention of "dessert," he becomes visibly confused. Why on Earth would anyone be afraid of dessert?

I think what's most challenging about the holidays is that they're often full of unpredictability. They also bring back many memories. I'm incredibly grateful for the fact that I have a sweet family to spend the holidays with and spent much of yesterday wishing that the world were a fairer place and that everyone had a family to be with, and I also kept remembering all the holidays I had to go away from home (personal family reasons with divorce, etc.). Being away and travelling between strangers' houses was confusing, and I was homesick and full of allergies and eventually learned to associate holiday food times with feeling lonely, icky, and awful. When these associations meet with the food guilt of an eating disorder, the results are disastrous. 

I've mentioned this here before, but one of the therapy modalities that's been the most helpful for me in recovery is yoga. This morning, the yoga sequence I was following ended with this powerful quote from Thoreau: "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." 

I had my least anorexic Thanksgiving in a while yesterday. I ate all my regular meals and snacks, finished the entire dinner that my mum made, and had a bigger dessert than I would've served myself (and several items included sugar *gasp*). My mum baked things that were allergy-friendly, which I am so grateful for, but despite the love I felt for her and the work that went into making everything, I  still struggled to shake the taunting squeals of Bellatrix in my head. "You ate that! You ate that! You're so unhealthy! How will you make up for it?" 

My eating disorder when she wants to guilt-trip me:

Image from Yahoo

I hate it when Bellatrix yells at me like that. Not only is eating normal, but it's also something I need to do "a lot" (what does that even mean?) of because I'm still very much in recovery, regardless of whether or not I think I am. I managed to quiet Bellatrix enough to have a happy evening, but she showed up again this morning, threatening me with anxiety and guilt. After yoga, though, I repeated Thoreau's words in my head and realized that, even if I can't make Bellatrix go away, I can do my best to change my perception. Every time Bellatrix yells at me, I'm going to stand my ground and tell her that my choices are healthy for me. "I'm being healthy." I know healthy can be a triggering word, but I want to reclaim it from our detox-obsessed culture. In eating disorder recovery, "healthy" means being whole and making choices that nourish your body instead of those that deprive it.

This holiday season, Bellatrix is not invited. Let's keep our minds in recovery.

<3 <3 <3