Alternative coping – a tough sell

I thought that these quotes would be especially appropriate after my series on coping skills.

Dr. Meredith Grey: In the hospital, we see addiction every day. It’s shocking, how many kinds of addiction exist. It would be too easy if it was just drugs and booze and cigarettes. I think the hardest part of kicking a habit is wanting to kick it. I mean, we get addicted for a reason, right? Often, too often, things that start out as just a normal part of your life at some point cross the line to obsessive, compulsive, out of control. It’s the high we’re chasing, the high that makes everything else fade away.

Dr. Meredith Grey: The thing about addiction is, it never ends well. Because eventually, whatever it is that was getting us high, stops feeling good, and starts to hurt. Still, they say you don’t kick the habit until you hit rock bottom. But how do you know when you are there? Because no matter how badly a thing is hurting us, sometimes, letting it go hurts even worse.

I’ve talked about this before, but I think that wanting to want to recover is a big roadblock in eating disorder treatment. Meredith explains it very well — we get addicted for a reason. The ED plays a role in our lives. You don’t go seeking an eating disorder… but for whatever reason (I’m sure largely biological), coping via food / exercise works for you. Restricting did give me some kind of a high, but more importantly it did make “everything else fade away.” Of course it didn’t SOLVE any issues… but it did somehow mask them and make them less important to me.

The eating disorder doesn’t “work” for me like it used to. It doesn’t give me that relief that I’m looking for. It doesn’t make stressors go away. 10 years ago, I felt some kind of sick accomplishment from restricting. Like somehow not eating made everything better. These days, maybe it deadens things a little bit, but largely it throws off my blood sugar and makes me feel like crap.

I’ll admit that for whatever reason, in many situations it’s still my first instinct to use the ED to cope. All the coping mechanisms I mentioned are attempts to replace the disorderedness with something healthier. But really, it takes three “healthy” coping mechanisms to offset one unhealthy one. The kudos chart is an everyday thing and a bad day might require coloring AND card shops.

I think a lot of people struggle with feeling like they still need their ED. Even if it is kinda ruining their lives and not working like it did in the past, they still feel like they won’t be able to deal without it. If you’re trying to replace that disorderedness with bubble baths and crafts — well, that’s a tough sell.

I’m not saying it’s not worth it or that EDs are just unhealthy coping skills… I’m just saying that recovery takes a lot of coping skills.  You burn some of them out (for instance, reading does not help me like it used to) and have to be creative and come up with new ones.  And sometimes they feel ridiculous.  Heck, I’m in my mid-20s and googling “print complicated coloring pages.”  My kudos chart is remarkably similar to the sticker chore chart that I had when I was seven.  I’m not sure any of this is “normal,” but hey, it helps.  Ridiculous or not — just go with it.

Nothing more than ordinary

It feels a little cliche quoting Grey’s Anatomy on Grey Thinking, but there are so many good quotes…. and I’ve been re-watching the series from the beginning (hey, why not?), and it’s funny how some things stand out to you when watching for the second time.

You’re happy? You’re happy now? The Meredith I knew was a force of nature. Passionate, focused, a fighter. What happened to you? You’ve gone soft! Stammering about a boyfriend and saying you’re waiting to be inspired. You’re waiting for inspiration? Are you kidding me?! I have a disease for which there is no cure, I think that would be inspiration enough! Listen to me, Meredith. Anyone can fall in love and be blindly happy! But not everyone can pick up a scalpel and save a life. I raised you to be an extraordinary human being, so imagine my disappointment when I wake up after five years and discover that you are no more than… ordinary! What happened to you?!

— Ellis Grey, Grey’s Anatomy

Sometimes I look back on my high school years (when I was deep in the ED) and think that I was a better person then.  Somehow I seem to think that back then I tried harder, was more earnest, focused, passionate, smarter… and that now I’ve somehow “gone soft.”  I’ve failed at being anything “extraordinary.”  I couldn’t hack it, I gave in, and I’m really nothing but ordinary.

In reality, I know that I was miserable in high school, completely immersed in the eating disorder and in a fog of depression and hopelessness.  There was nothing better about me then.  And, the anorexia did not make me extraordinary.  It did not make me special.  It made me sick, sure… but heck, the flu makes you sick.  Water in Mexico makes you sick.  Being sick doesn’t make you extraordinary.  It just makes you… sick.

I don’t think it’s uncommon to dislike the idea of being ordinary.  Ordinary to me means… unmemorable, unimportant, unremarkable, unexceptional, and lots of other un- words.  You don’t want to your life to be of no significance.  You want to be memorable and you want to feel like your life matters!

I’ve often said that I still hold on to the eating disorder “just in case.”  In case I am a disappointment, in case I can’t measure up, in case I’m not worthwhile.  This is so ironic though, because the eating disorder really robs you of so many things in your life.  The more involved I am in the ED, the less present I am in the rest of my life.  I’m less focused on work, less invested in relationships, and less interested in hobbies or holidays or anything.

I think that eating disorders distance you from everything that makes you extraordinary. They blunt all the things about you that do make you special.  And it’s sad (and a little ironic, actually), because some of the most amazing people that I know are friends who I made in treatment

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.

Testing your therapist

Last night I watched all of the “In Treatment” Sophie episodes.  I am just engrossed in this show.  I feel so connected to the patients and to Paul.  I think that they discuss such intimate details that I feel like I am part of some deep relationship.  I can relate to a lot of what the patients say, so Paul’s responses are meaningful to me.  It’s also funny that I don’t feel comfortable ending therapy at the end of each season.  In episode nine of Sophie I was thinking, “No!  You can’t go!  There are so many things we still need to talk about.  I’m not ready to end therapy!  I’m still processing things.”

Anyway, one of the things that struck me about Sophie were all of times that she tested Paul.  “Testing” is a good word to describe the scenarios.  I probably would have looked at it differently had he not used that word.  But yes, “testing” is perfect.

I was trying to think if I’ve ever tested my treatment professionals.  I’ve definitely never overdosed, threatened to kill myself, or asked my therapist to change my clothing (I felt so awkward even watching that moment)… but the more that I think about it, the more aware I am of how many times I have tested professionals.

For example:
Nutritionist – With my most recent nutritionist, I’ve turned in a couple of really bad days worth of foods logs to see if she would say something (that wasn’t really the reason they were bad, but it’s the reason I turned them in instead of just not writing those days down).  If she didn’t say anything, then it meant that my following my meal plan didn’t matter.  She passed.  Another time when I felt like she was tired of dealing with me, I stopped making appointments.  I figured that when she decided that I needed an appointment, she would say something.  No such luck — failed that test.

Therapist – Sometimes my therapist assigns me homework.  I’ll do it, but don’t bring it up or turn it in during our next session unless she says something.  If she doesn’t, that means she doesn’t remember and it doesn’t really matter.  She usually fails this test.  It’s probably the only test that she fails, though.  For months I didn’t tell her much just because I didn’t trust her… I thought she would think I was ridiculous.  So, piece by piece I’d tell her little bits of information and watch how she responded.  She was concerned and validating and understanding — definitely passed.  Another big issue of mine is calling/emailing/anything outside of a session.  I just feel like it is not her responsibility to deal with me outside of that hour a week.  I am so afraid that I will be too needy or too much and that I will ruin the relationship.  She says that it’s impossible to ruin the relationship, but I don’t know.  Anyway, I called her one day when I was really upset, and she was there for me and she wasn’t at all annoyed that I called.  Pass.

I could go on, but that’s more than enough examples.  While I do like the word “testing,” I think that it has a negative connotation.  I think that to some degree, it’s a part of therapy — learning to trust the professional.  I hate feeling vulnerable and it takes me a long time to open up and trust someone.  I have to feel certain that the person isn’t going to hurt me, though.  It’s like testing the waters.  It’s hard to build trust.  I need to reassure myself somehow that this person is going to care and isn’t going to walk away when I actually need her.

Caring makes you vulnerable

If you haven’t seen “In Treatment,” you definitely need to look it up.  It’s on HBO, so I would have never known it existed were it not for a good friend of mine.  Thank goodness she brought it to my attention, because I am so captivated by it.  While it can seem a little slow at times, the dynamics in the relationship between therapist and patient are so interesting.

Anyway, this past week I watched all seven weeks of April’s sessions.  I’m not going to summarize her whole story, but in the last episode she decides to discontinue treatment with Paul (therapist).  She says she can’t continue to see him because he saved her life.

This struck me as a little odd.  I was reading a blog post about it, and the author had a really good point:

“I think this is her way of preserving the feelings and experiences she has had with him, preserving them against the destructive urges she is still experiencing — in leaving school, in believing she cannot have love and a normal life. Leaving now allows her to continue to hold him as her savior…”

Now that makes a lot of sense to me.  She’s been through a lot of pain in her life that makes it hard for her to trust anyone.  She’s always taken are of herself because her parents are preoccupied taking care of her brother.  She probably thinks it’s not okay to have needs or to not be self-sufficient, because she has seen how her brother’s dependency has changed her mother’s life.  She has a pretty tough facade.

I think that on a deeper level, though, she really wishes that someone would really understand her and be able to reach her.  She needs someone to take care of her.  I don’t think that she put off chemo because she really wanted to die, but because she wanted someone else to be the adult and take care of her.

I can relate to that with the eating disorder.  I didn’t want to ask for help — I felt that if I really needed help, that someone would notice that I wasn’t okay and make sure I got help.  i knew that I was hurting my body and didn’t care.  Well, half of me didn’t care and the other half couldn’t understand the severity of the illness.  Never for a second did I think I was going to have a heart attack or end up with osteoporosis or anything.  But, that is like April — she was really sick with cancer and she was still waiting for someone to take care of her.  For someone to tell her that treatment mattered — that SHE mattered and that her health was important.  That she was worth taking care of.

Not only did she not want to have to ask for help, but I think that she felt guilty for needing help.  Not really guilty for having cancer, but that the cancer and her treatment were going to affect other people.  She cared more about not burdening her mother than saving her own life.  Again, I understand that — it’s easier for me to suffer than to hurt someone else.  I hate that my eating disorder affects other people.  I try to minimize the significance of it… not because I’m lying or trying to be manipulative, but because I don’t want to be a burden to my fiance, friends, or family.

I also know the feeling of your therapist being your “savior.” I don’t think I would have ever personally chosen that word, but when someone really does understand and connect to you on that deeper level… when they do just know that you’re okay and take care of you when you don’t ask… that’s valuable!  You have spent forever believing that it would never happen.  And now that there is someone in the world who can connect with you in that way, you’re afraid to lose it.  The thought of being let down by that person is too much to bear.  Or, even worse… what if you drove that person away?  You could ruin the relationship.

I have two theories on why April decided to discontinue treatment with Paul.

1. I think that sometimes when you get what you need, you can move on with your life.  April needed someone to take care of her in that moment and to show her that she mattered.  Paul repeatedly showed concern over her not taking care of herself and eventually even drove her to chemo.  She felt that loved — and that’s what she needed.
2. She wanted to think of Paul as her savior or caregiver, and not just her therapist.  He told her in the previous session that he couldn’t play both roles, and I think that she would rather pretend that he could than continue a relationship where he was just her therapist.  It’s less painful.

I know that I have jumped all around in this post, but basically — I could relate to a lot of the issues that April was dealing with (minus the very real threat of death… and losing my hair).  The therapeutic relationship between her and Paul was familiar to me.  I question her ending treatment with him, however, and am very suspicious that her decision was motivated by the fear of losing someone important.

Anti-ED Coach

I’d never heard of a “Sober Coach” until watching VH1’s “Sober House.” In the last episode (I think), Will, who is Seth’s Sober Coach, accompanies him to his first concert and make sure that nothing happens to jeopardize his sobriety. While watching this I thought, “Well that’s convenient — I could use someone protecting me from anything eating disordered.”

Upon thinking about it a little more, though, I wasn’t sure what this Anti-ED Coach would protect me from. Would he make sure no one served me diet coke? Or that we only went to public places with healthy-weight people? Or would he stand outside the bathroom (any bathroom) and make me count? Okay, so maybe the idea was silly.

However, then I went and Googled “Sober Coach,” and found a website that explains what a sober coach does. Wow, they do a lot… they really seem like “life coaches” to me. If I had to adapt the list from this website for eating disorders, it would look something like this:

1. 24 Hour Crisis Support
   1. Phone support available 24 hours a day, 5 days a week.
   2. Education on how to ask for help.
2. Daily, Weekly, & Weekend Planning
   1. Creating an hour by hour schedule when necessary.
   2. Learning to deal with free time and/or unstructured time.
   3. Establishing weekly goals.
3. Physical Well-Being
   1. Nutritional consulting.
   2. Support with eating disorder issues.
   3. Support for anxiety and depression.
   4. Creating a personalized self-care plan (acupuncture, yoga, body coach, personal trainers, etc.)
4. Career / Academic Guidance
   1. Finding a job / volunteer work / internship.
   2. Support with changing careers.
5. Fun / Passion / Purpose
   1. Learning how to have fun & explore different hobbies.
   2. How to build fun into weekly schedule.
   3. Finding one’s own aspirations and dreams.
6. Recovery Support
   1. Help in finding appropriate treatment.
   2. Daily relapse prevention plan.
   3. Support in establishing healthy friendships and relationships.
7. Team Approach
   1. Works with psychiatrists, therapists, dietitians, and outpatient programs to provide a team approach.
   2. Referrals to various professionals as needed.

If you look at the original website, you’ll see that I didn’t have to add much. If Sober Coaches really do all of the above, that’s pretty amazing. I need someone to educate me on “how to ask for help” and “how to deal with free time and/or unstructured time” ! I also like the idea of someone coordinating things with a treatment team. I think that often professionals don’t work well as a team or they don’t necessarily consider the input of the patient (when appropriate). It’s a nice thought to think you could have someone advocating on your behalf in those meetings…

I realize that this is probably realistic, but it’s an interesting thought. An Anti-ED Coach could play a role that I don’t think really exists right now in treatment. Many of these responsibilities don’t fall under the job description of your doctor, therapist, or dietitian. It’s tricky relying on your spouse / family members to serve all of these functions, too, because they all don’t necessarily mess with the nature of the relationship. For instance, if I’m having a bad night and freaking out about something food-related, I don’t really want to make my fiance listen to my possibly irrational rant about calories. At the same time, though, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to call or email my dietitian about this, either.

I am fortunate enough to have ED friends in recovery who can support me and give me advice during tough times, but that’s still a different relationship that with a Sober or Anti-ED Coach. You always have to consider if you are hurting or triggering the friend with your ED thoughts and behaviors.

Greyisms (like Buseyisms)

It’s been a little while since I talked about Celebrity Rehab, but I have been meaning to write about Gary Busey’s “Buseyisms” (by the way, I highly recommend that you watch this — it’s less than two minutes long).  Buseyisms are really just made-up acronyms.  Backward acronyms, I guess, but you start with the acronym and come up with the meaning to match the letters.

I’m sure you’ve heard these before… like FINE – Frustrated, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional.  Now, look at a few of Gary’s…

Doubt – Debating On Understanding Bewildering Thoughts
Romance – Relying On Magnificent And Necessary Compatible Energy
Fear – False Evidence Appearing Real
Fun – Finally Understanding Nothing
Sober – Son Of a Bitch! Everything’s Real
Fraud – Finding Relevant Answers Under Deception
Faith – Fantastic Adventures In Trusting Him

So, I thought that I would create some of my own, relating to eating disorder treatment.  Personally I don’t think they’re useful — I just think that they are amusing.  However, since it took me 2+ hours to come up with these couple of Greyisms, I think that they are a little less fun.  Anyway, here’s what I’ve come up with:

• Cope – Changing Overwhelmingly Problematic Experiences
• Shame – Sense of Hurt And Malicious Embarrassment
• Fear – Flee Emotions Around Reality
• Want – Wish About Needing Things
• Denial – Dismiss Every Notion Implying Anything Less
• Therapy – Telling Her Everything Rough About Previous Years
• Support – Someone Understanding Pretty Painful and Overwhelmingly Rejecting Thoughts
• Know – Kinda Not an Original Word

So there you go — those are my best Greyisms.  If you come up with better ones (which you will surely do), definitely post them!

I'm so okay that I'm boring

Chase: You don’t let other people’s problems affect you. You don’t let your own problems affect you, and it’s the screw-ups that make us interesting. You’re never out of control, which is good… and boring. Never losing control means you’re never putting yourself out there, never pushing your limits.

— House MD, Lucky Thirteen

The problem with perfection (ha, that’s ironic): it’s boring. There’s nothing “special” about seeming perfect. And yet, I still strive for it. I want for everything to be “correct.”

I want to….

• always get good grades
• never appear to have any problems
• not struggle with anything
• never screw up
• never need help
• handle everything with grace, unflinchingly
• be completely independent
• never seem disappointed or hurt or angry
• always be positive
• seem to get along with everyone
• have only good relationships

etc, etc, etc. I don’t ever want anyone to think that something is wrong. I don’t want to seem vulnerable or not-okay. I just want everything to always seem okay (well, and to be okay, but I’ll settle for “seem”).

And this makes me boring. Chase hits the nail on the head with why: “Never losing control means you’re never putting yourself out there.” Relationships require for you to put yourself out there–to be vulnerable and relatable and imperfect. The friends that I am closest to are those who have seen me NOT okay. They know that I have issues with eating and depression… they know I don’t agree with my fiance 100% of the time… they know that things are weird between me and my parents. They know that I get overwhelmed with work and that there are coworkers who really get to me. They know there are a lot of things that I really suck at (like trying to learn a foreign language, most team sports, and cooking).

When I think about it, I am essentially putting so much time and energy into being boring. And maybe I could justify boring as feeling better (being in control, not being as affected by things, minimizing negative interactions and consequences), I think it just feels safer–not better. Because when you never let your guard down, you never let people in. If you never admit that you’re not okay, how can anyone ever help you feel better?

I’m so okay that I’m boring

Chase: You don’t let other people’s problems affect you. You don’t let your own problems affect you, and it’s the screw-ups that make us interesting. You’re never out of control, which is good… and boring. Never losing control means you’re never putting yourself out there, never pushing your limits.

— House MD, Lucky Thirteen

The problem with perfection (ha, that’s ironic): it’s boring. There’s nothing “special” about seeming perfect. And yet, I still strive for it. I want for everything to be “correct.”

I want to….

• always get good grades
• never appear to have any problems
• not struggle with anything
• never screw up
• never need help
• handle everything with grace, unflinchingly
• be completely independent
• never seem disappointed or hurt or angry
• always be positive
• seem to get along with everyone
• have only good relationships

etc, etc, etc. I don’t ever want anyone to think that something is wrong. I don’t want to seem vulnerable or not-okay. I just want everything to always seem okay (well, and to be okay, but I’ll settle for “seem”).

And this makes me boring. Chase hits the nail on the head with why: “Never losing control means you’re never putting yourself out there.” Relationships require for you to put yourself out there–to be vulnerable and relatable and imperfect. The friends that I am closest to are those who have seen me NOT okay. They know that I have issues with eating and depression… they know I don’t agree with my fiance 100% of the time… they know that things are weird between me and my parents. They know that I get overwhelmed with work and that there are coworkers who really get to me. They know there are a lot of things that I really suck at (like trying to learn a foreign language, most team sports, and cooking).

When I think about it, I am essentially putting so much time and energy into being boring. And maybe I could justify boring as feeling better (being in control, not being as affected by things, minimizing negative interactions and consequences), I think it just feels safer–not better. Because when you never let your guard down, you never let people in. If you never admit that you’re not okay, how can anyone ever help you feel better?