You say that like it's a bad thing

Chase: How would you feel if I interfered in your personal life?
House: I’d hate it. That’s why I cleverly have no personal life.

If you replace “personal life” with “personal issues,” I could have written those lines (although much less eloquently and using three times as many words).  It’s much harder to be hurt when you just don’t have issues–right?

Along the same lines, Chase and House have another conversation later in the show:

Chase: Why does everybody need to know my business?
House: People like talking about people. Makes us feel superior. Makes us feel in control. And sometimes, for some people, knowing some things makes them care.
Chase: I’d tell you my dad left, my mum drank herself to death… you gonna care about me more?
House: Cameron would. Me, I just like knowing stuff. [pause] I know you hate your dad, but I’m gonna tell you something –
Chase: I don’t hate him. I loved him until I figured out it hurts a lot less to just not care. You don’t expect him to turn up to your football match? No disappointments. You don’t expect a call on your birthday, don’t expect to see him for months? No disappointments. You want us to go make up? Sink a few beers together, nice family hug? I’ve given him enough hugs. He’s given me enough disappointments.

If you don’t care — or can dismiss anything unpleasant as being a nonissue — then it’s much harder to be hurt.  Isn’t that convenient?

However, notice that House does not have many friends (…and poor Wilson!).  He’s semi-miserable and no one can ever make him feel better.  Even the drugs aren’t doing it.

Okay, so I’m not House, but I am pretty good at always being okay.  I hate the thought of others suspecting that there’s something wrong.  I told my therapist the other day that it literally HURTS to be not-okay in front of someone else.  It’s hard for me to explain why, but I just hate it.  I would respond just like Chase: “Why does everybody need to know my business?”  My mantra is, “If said person is not really in my everyday life and is not someone that I need to turn to for support, then why do they need to know if I’m struggling?”

“I don’t care” is in a way an ugly way of saying “I’ve reset my expectations.”  Chase’s dad was never going to be reliable.  He wasn’t going to play the father role that Chase needed.  He learned that and adapted.  Personally, I think that’s a relatively healthy response (especially if the alternative is continually being re-upset every time you dad doesn’t show up, for the rest of your life).

I think that it’s important to find support in other places if you can’t get it from your parents.  That said, I also don’t think you can get over the loss of that relationship 100%.  He still wishes that things could be different between them, and he was bothered by his dad’s being there because it is still a sore spot for Chase.  Having a hundred caring friends is still just not the same.  You try and get the support that you need from other people, and that does help.  And you grieve the loss of that relationship, which sucks, but also helps.  But…. still, that longing does not completely disappear (okay, clearly I am talking about myself now and not so much Chase).

My point of all of this (which I am not doing a good job of expressing) is that just not caring does have its advantages.  Life is much simpler when everything is “okay.”  You’re not disappointed if you set the bar low.  However, by lowering your expectations like this, you are also isolating yourself more.  It gets lonely and frustrating when you won’t let others in.  Because I can’t stand the thought of struggling when out with others, I am left to deal with all of the emotions on my own.  By eliminating the possibility of being disappointed, I think that I also eliminate my chances of feeling better.

When I think about all of the people that I care about, the ones closest to me are those who know what’s going on in my life.  We talk about more than just coffee, the weather, our pets, television, work, etc.  It’s that humanness of NOT always being okay that makes us care about one another.  While it is definitely adaptive in some circumstances to re-evaluate what realistic expectations for that relationship are, I personally can’t turn that caring / trusting thing on and off.  Chase did have an honest conversation about the relationship he has with his dad (albeit, the conversation was not his idea and it was with House…), and they clearly left on a better foot than they started on.  I think he feels at least a little bit better.  House, who has “no personal life,” though, likely went home and sat his couch by myself, popping vicodin.   Having no personal life is not that clever.

You say that like it’s a bad thing

Chase: How would you feel if I interfered in your personal life?
House: I’d hate it. That’s why I cleverly have no personal life.

If you replace “personal life” with “personal issues,” I could have written those lines (although much less eloquently and using three times as many words).  It’s much harder to be hurt when you just don’t have issues–right?

Along the same lines, Chase and House have another conversation later in the show:

Chase: Why does everybody need to know my business?
House: People like talking about people. Makes us feel superior. Makes us feel in control. And sometimes, for some people, knowing some things makes them care.
Chase: I’d tell you my dad left, my mum drank herself to death… you gonna care about me more?
House: Cameron would. Me, I just like knowing stuff. [pause] I know you hate your dad, but I’m gonna tell you something –
Chase: I don’t hate him. I loved him until I figured out it hurts a lot less to just not care. You don’t expect him to turn up to your football match? No disappointments. You don’t expect a call on your birthday, don’t expect to see him for months? No disappointments. You want us to go make up? Sink a few beers together, nice family hug? I’ve given him enough hugs. He’s given me enough disappointments.

If you don’t care — or can dismiss anything unpleasant as being a nonissue — then it’s much harder to be hurt.  Isn’t that convenient?

However, notice that House does not have many friends (…and poor Wilson!).  He’s semi-miserable and no one can ever make him feel better.  Even the drugs aren’t doing it.

Okay, so I’m not House, but I am pretty good at always being okay.  I hate the thought of others suspecting that there’s something wrong.  I told my therapist the other day that it literally HURTS to be not-okay in front of someone else.  It’s hard for me to explain why, but I just hate it.  I would respond just like Chase: “Why does everybody need to know my business?”  My mantra is, “If said person is not really in my everyday life and is not someone that I need to turn to for support, then why do they need to know if I’m struggling?”

“I don’t care” is in a way an ugly way of saying “I’ve reset my expectations.”  Chase’s dad was never going to be reliable.  He wasn’t going to play the father role that Chase needed.  He learned that and adapted.  Personally, I think that’s a relatively healthy response (especially if the alternative is continually being re-upset every time you dad doesn’t show up, for the rest of your life).

I think that it’s important to find support in other places if you can’t get it from your parents.  That said, I also don’t think you can get over the loss of that relationship 100%.  He still wishes that things could be different between them, and he was bothered by his dad’s being there because it is still a sore spot for Chase.  Having a hundred caring friends is still just not the same.  You try and get the support that you need from other people, and that does help.  And you grieve the loss of that relationship, which sucks, but also helps.  But…. still, that longing does not completely disappear (okay, clearly I am talking about myself now and not so much Chase).

My point of all of this (which I am not doing a good job of expressing) is that just not caring does have its advantages.  Life is much simpler when everything is “okay.”  You’re not disappointed if you set the bar low.  However, by lowering your expectations like this, you are also isolating yourself more.  It gets lonely and frustrating when you won’t let others in.  Because I can’t stand the thought of struggling when out with others, I am left to deal with all of the emotions on my own.  By eliminating the possibility of being disappointed, I think that I also eliminate my chances of feeling better.

When I think about all of the people that I care about, the ones closest to me are those who know what’s going on in my life.  We talk about more than just coffee, the weather, our pets, television, work, etc.  It’s that humanness of NOT always being okay that makes us care about one another.  While it is definitely adaptive in some circumstances to re-evaluate what realistic expectations for that relationship are, I personally can’t turn that caring / trusting thing on and off.  Chase did have an honest conversation about the relationship he has with his dad (albeit, the conversation was not his idea and it was with House…), and they clearly left on a better foot than they started on.  I think he feels at least a little bit better.  House, who has “no personal life,” though, likely went home and sat his couch by myself, popping vicodin.   Having no personal life is not that clever.

It's not about what you are doing

Since I have a serious Dr. Drew Pinsky addiction (irony intended), I was really sad when his podcast was cancelled.  Thankfully, Celebrity Rehab 2 and Sober House came out shortly after the podcast ended, so I was able to watch those repeatedly for awhile. When VH1 stopped running CR2, I read his books.  Now, having exhausted all of those Dr. Drew resources, I am listening to Loveline.  This kills me a little bit, for several reasons:

1. It’s called Loveline
2. Half of it is sex talk
3. I have to pay $5 a month for it!

Still… It’s Dr. Drew, so I have to do it.  There are calls about addictions and psychological issues, and listening to his responses to those questions is worth my $5.

Dr. Drew had a particularly great quote today:

“It’s not what you’re doing, it’s what you’re missing – and you deserve better.”

The quote was not in relation to alcoholism or eating disorders, but it really hit home with me.  Yes, you need to get better because it’s important to take care of yourself, people care about you, you should care about you, you want to be healthy, it’s pathological, etc.  But also, when you are wrapped up in the ED you are missing life.  Maybe that’s semi-intentional; maybe you’re avoiding life.  You might think you’re just coping with life in an unhealthy manner, but you really are missing it.

You’re missing:

1. Close relationships with friends
2. Many normal social situations (getting pizza, going out for lunch, meeting for a drink, getting ice cream for no reason)
3. Good experiences (as well as bad experiences) that shape you as a person

I can think of a lot of things that I “missed”

1. Close relationships with HS friends
2. Trying anything new (for most of my life)
3. Getting ice cream with friends
4. A lot of summer cookouts
5. Trips I wouldn’t go on because there would be too much food or b/c I was depressed & wanted to stay home
   (okay, this is a depressing list so I’m going to stop here)

I think that eating disorders are as much about avoiding life as they are hurting yourself.  First there is all the time that you spend wrapped up in the disorder.  You’re isolating, avoiding events with food, and spending 90% of your day thinking about food and weight.  You have no idea what is going on around you.  And then there’s treatment, which takes up even MORE time… because along with the continuing disordered behavior (it’s not going to go away overnight), you now also have a dietitian, a therapist, a doctor, a psychiatrist (and this is assuming that you don’t really put your life on pause to go to a residential or partial hospitalization program).  You are spending your free time in treatment.  And I don’t know about you, but when I’m working on tough stuff in therapy, I have a harder time dealing with the rest of life.  When I’m upset about whatever my therapist said two hours ago, the last thing I want to deal with is a presentation that’s due tomorrow.  So yes, even in recovery, you are avoiding / escaping / missing (whatever you want to call it) your life.

It’s kind of ironic when you think about it.  You spend so much time in therapy trying to change behaviors, discussing why you are coping with life via your ED, identifying unhealthy aspects of your career and relationships, etc.  However… how much time do you spend talking about what you’re missing?

And for awhile, this is the point.  Maybe something in your life is not okay.  Maybe there is too much on your plate, maybe you are in a bad relationship, maybe you do need to change your job, maybe you are killing yourself trying to please everyone else in your life–whatever.  One of the best things about residential (I think) is that you don’t have to deal with the real world while you’re in treatment.  I can just focus on myself and what I need to be doing without the constant stress and anxiety of bills, relationships, responsibilities, work, money, and the list goes on.

However, I am not new to treatment, and neither are several of my friends.  And while I do worry about their health and their symptoms, what really makes me sad is what the ED takes away from them.  For one friend, it takes away time and energy that she would rather be spending with her children.  For another, it limits her career because work has to be planned around the ED and ED treatment.  Another friend has to put relationships, summer plans, and a lot of the life that she has created in the past year on the side right now to get more intense help.

All of these friends are making the right choices to work on the eating disorder and to get the help that they need!  Absolutely.  Friend #1 can’t take care of her family if she isn’t taking care of herself, Friend #2 won’t be able to put the energy and concentration into the job that career that she really wants until she is healthier, and Friend #3 won’t be able to maintain that life if she doesn’t do intensive treatment.  My point is, though, that what saddens me the most about these friends is not their concerning ED symptoms, but all the things that they are missing out on in their lives.  They’re such wonderful people and are meant to do so much more in the world than they can with this eating disorder.  They deserve so much more out of life than this eating disorder, and that’s why I hope they can get better.

It’s not about what you are doing

Since I have a serious Dr. Drew Pinsky addiction (irony intended), I was really sad when his podcast was cancelled.  Thankfully, Celebrity Rehab 2 and Sober House came out shortly after the podcast ended, so I was able to watch those repeatedly for awhile. When VH1 stopped running CR2, I read his books.  Now, having exhausted all of those Dr. Drew resources, I am listening to Loveline.  This kills me a little bit, for several reasons:

1. It’s called Loveline
2. Half of it is sex talk
3. I have to pay $5 a month for it!

Still… It’s Dr. Drew, so I have to do it.  There are calls about addictions and psychological issues, and listening to his responses to those questions is worth my $5.

Dr. Drew had a particularly great quote today:

“It’s not what you’re doing, it’s what you’re missing – and you deserve better.”

The quote was not in relation to alcoholism or eating disorders, but it really hit home with me.  Yes, you need to get better because it’s important to take care of yourself, people care about you, you should care about you, you want to be healthy, it’s pathological, etc.  But also, when you are wrapped up in the ED you are missing life.  Maybe that’s semi-intentional; maybe you’re avoiding life.  You might think you’re just coping with life in an unhealthy manner, but you really are missing it.

You’re missing:

1. Close relationships with friends
2. Many normal social situations (getting pizza, going out for lunch, meeting for a drink, getting ice cream for no reason)
3. Good experiences (as well as bad experiences) that shape you as a person

I can think of a lot of things that I “missed”

1. Close relationships with HS friends
2. Trying anything new (for most of my life)
3. Getting ice cream with friends
4. A lot of summer cookouts
5. Trips I wouldn’t go on because there would be too much food or b/c I was depressed & wanted to stay home
   (okay, this is a depressing list so I’m going to stop here)

I think that eating disorders are as much about avoiding life as they are hurting yourself.  First there is all the time that you spend wrapped up in the disorder.  You’re isolating, avoiding events with food, and spending 90% of your day thinking about food and weight.  You have no idea what is going on around you.  And then there’s treatment, which takes up even MORE time… because along with the continuing disordered behavior (it’s not going to go away overnight), you now also have a dietitian, a therapist, a doctor, a psychiatrist (and this is assuming that you don’t really put your life on pause to go to a residential or partial hospitalization program).  You are spending your free time in treatment.  And I don’t know about you, but when I’m working on tough stuff in therapy, I have a harder time dealing with the rest of life.  When I’m upset about whatever my therapist said two hours ago, the last thing I want to deal with is a presentation that’s due tomorrow.  So yes, even in recovery, you are avoiding / escaping / missing (whatever you want to call it) your life.

It’s kind of ironic when you think about it.  You spend so much time in therapy trying to change behaviors, discussing why you are coping with life via your ED, identifying unhealthy aspects of your career and relationships, etc.  However… how much time do you spend talking about what you’re missing?

And for awhile, this is the point.  Maybe something in your life is not okay.  Maybe there is too much on your plate, maybe you are in a bad relationship, maybe you do need to change your job, maybe you are killing yourself trying to please everyone else in your life–whatever.  One of the best things about residential (I think) is that you don’t have to deal with the real world while you’re in treatment.  I can just focus on myself and what I need to be doing without the constant stress and anxiety of bills, relationships, responsibilities, work, money, and the list goes on.

However, I am not new to treatment, and neither are several of my friends.  And while I do worry about their health and their symptoms, what really makes me sad is what the ED takes away from them.  For one friend, it takes away time and energy that she would rather be spending with her children.  For another, it limits her career because work has to be planned around the ED and ED treatment.  Another friend has to put relationships, summer plans, and a lot of the life that she has created in the past year on the side right now to get more intense help.

All of these friends are making the right choices to work on the eating disorder and to get the help that they need!  Absolutely.  Friend #1 can’t take care of her family if she isn’t taking care of herself, Friend #2 won’t be able to put the energy and concentration into the job that career that she really wants until she is healthier, and Friend #3 won’t be able to maintain that life if she doesn’t do intensive treatment.  My point is, though, that what saddens me the most about these friends is not their concerning ED symptoms, but all the things that they are missing out on in their lives.  They’re such wonderful people and are meant to do so much more in the world than they can with this eating disorder.  They deserve so much more out of life than this eating disorder, and that’s why I hope they can get better.

Positive self-help or self-hurt?

I’ve written several posts on the negative aspects of therapy as well as my disdain and frustration with positive self-talk, so I was pretty excited to see this headline: Study Shows The Negative Side To Positive Self-Statements In Self-Help Books

“…individuals with low self-esteem actually felt worse about themselves after repeating positive self-statements.”

“…paradoxically, low self-esteem participants’ moods fared better when they were allowed to have negative thoughts than when they were asked to focus exclusively on affirmative thoughts.”

Now, I don’t think I’ve ever claimed positive self-talk caused anyone to feel worse… but personally, I’ve never found it helpful as a coping mechanism. The results of the study do make some sense to me, though. Saying completely untrue statements like “I accept myself completely” make me feel further from that as a goal. I start to think, “Will I ever really accept myself completely? What’s wrong with me that I can’t right now? Does it matter if I do? Will I really feel better if I do?”

Also, the article makes a good point with being “allowed to have negative thoughts.” I think that often only positive affirmations are used in treatment in recovery. Things like “Everyone can get better,” “I know that you will beat this, you are such a strong person,” “You have too much potential to struggle with this forever,” “You’re making amazing progress,” etc. are all meant as motivational compliments. Maybe for some people they are… but again, I am backwards and actually feel a little invalidated when I hear how awesome I am doing in recovery. I don’t mind my therapist telling me I’ve made a lot of progress, but I do mind being told that I am doing great when I am feeling crappy. Additionally, sometimes I do worry that I will never get over this or that I will be considered “recovered” once I am 100% ideal body weight, regardless of whether or not I feel mentally/emotionally okay. I’d rather be told that she (therapist) knows that I am struggling and that she is there to support me, and that those fears are understandable becuase people do die from this illness or suffer from it their entire lives, but that I’m in treatment and working for something better than that.

I would love to see if there is a difference between others giving you affirmations vs. you creating them yourselves. I have a letter from an old therapist that says “you are more than enough” as well as a card from a different professional that says, “there are people who care deeply about you.” Both of these are comments that I could tell myself (I am lovable, my family and friends love me, etc.) but they are only significant because I care about and really look up to the people who gave them to me. I guess that’s what makes it so different from positive SELF-talk.

That's not actually a deep question

“I’m not deflecting because I’m avoiding something deep. I’m deflecting because I’m avoiding something shallow.” – House, MD

One of my biggest treatment pet peeves is when professionals ask non-deep “deep” questions. For example:

1. What does it mean to feel?
2. How did it feel to be in that space?
3. How does it feel to be in this space now?
4. What does it mean for you to not be in that space anymore?
5. How do you experience that process?
6. What would it mean for there to be grey in your world?
7. How does it feel to have acknowledged that out loud?

Okay, depending on the situation, some of these questions could potentially be useful. However, I’ve had therapists who use them over and over and over again. “What does it mean to feel?” is probably my least favorite question of all. Maybe it SOUNDS deep and therapeutic, but there are really only two answers to this question:

1. It means that I have feelings
2. It means that I am allowed to have emotions and that it’s okay for me to recognize them and not judge them as being either “good” or “bad”but to just accept them as they are… and that emotions may be scary but I can work through them and get support to handle them… and that they are normal and a necessary part of human life and essential to enabling us to connect to other humans and form relationships….

My point is, your answer is either “this is a stupid question” or “I just had this revelation about the significance of feelings and everything else in my life.” And if your answer is the first, then it’s “But what else? What does it really mean?” This is where the House quote comes in. I’m not deflecting the question because I don’t want to address some deep underlying issue, but because it’s really not a deep question! And if you won’t accept “Um, it means that I have feelings” as an answer, then you are going to get whatever fictitious BS I can come up with off the top of my head. Plus, I’ll be frustrated and won’t want to intelligently answer your additional questions.

You can ask me what I’m feeling, what I felt at that time, how I feel about feeling that way, etc…. but I hate when it is reworded to sound like a deep question. “How does it feel to be in this space now?” is just “How do you feel?” with six extraneous words.

Wow, I swear I am not as bitter (or as difficult of a patient) as I sound in this post! I just don’t like shallow questions that are pretending to be deep.

That’s not actually a deep question

“I’m not deflecting because I’m avoiding something deep. I’m deflecting because I’m avoiding something shallow.” – House, MD

One of my biggest treatment pet peeves is when professionals ask non-deep “deep” questions. For example:

1. What does it mean to feel?
2. How did it feel to be in that space?
3. How does it feel to be in this space now?
4. What does it mean for you to not be in that space anymore?
5. How do you experience that process?
6. What would it mean for there to be grey in your world?
7. How does it feel to have acknowledged that out loud?

Okay, depending on the situation, some of these questions could potentially be useful. However, I’ve had therapists who use them over and over and over again. “What does it mean to feel?” is probably my least favorite question of all. Maybe it SOUNDS deep and therapeutic, but there are really only two answers to this question:

1. It means that I have feelings
2. It means that I am allowed to have emotions and that it’s okay for me to recognize them and not judge them as being either “good” or “bad”but to just accept them as they are… and that emotions may be scary but I can work through them and get support to handle them… and that they are normal and a necessary part of human life and essential to enabling us to connect to other humans and form relationships….

My point is, your answer is either “this is a stupid question” or “I just had this revelation about the significance of feelings and everything else in my life.” And if your answer is the first, then it’s “But what else? What does it really mean?” This is where the House quote comes in. I’m not deflecting the question because I don’t want to address some deep underlying issue, but because it’s really not a deep question! And if you won’t accept “Um, it means that I have feelings” as an answer, then you are going to get whatever fictitious BS I can come up with off the top of my head. Plus, I’ll be frustrated and won’t want to intelligently answer your additional questions.

You can ask me what I’m feeling, what I felt at that time, how I feel about feeling that way, etc…. but I hate when it is reworded to sound like a deep question. “How does it feel to be in this space now?” is just “How do you feel?” with six extraneous words.

Wow, I swear I am not as bitter (or as difficult of a patient) as I sound in this post! I just don’t like shallow questions that are pretending to be deep.