The Dr. Drew Response

Lately, I’ve been reading Dr. Drew’s latest book, “The Mirror Effect.”   It addresses celebrity narcissism and the extreme behavior that goes along with it. Dr. Drew does a great job at highlighting what has become typical tabloid material – multiple stints in rehab, sex tapes, drug use, eating disorders, etc. – and explaining the self-destructive pathology behind it.

Dr. Drew references troubling celebrity behavior over and over throughout the book. As I read, I found that most responses to this self-destructiveness fit in one of three categories (depending on one’s own background):

3 responses to troubling celebrity behavior:

1. Dr. Drew (empathetic / sympathetic)
2. “Regular” society (intrigued)
3. Relaters (Individuals with their own psychopathology)

The Dr. Drew Response

“As a group, however, [celebrities] often behaved in ways that unnerved and puzzled me.”

“…their behavior makes my heart ache for them.”

I’m coining this the Dr. Drew Response since I can’t think of any other word to better describes the reaction. His heart aches! He sees someone being self-destructive and he cares and feels their pain. It’s sympathy + knowledge + understanding + insight.

“Regular” society

“…this kind of behavior is portrayed as tragically glamorous, dramatically alluring, and, most alarmingly, normal and expected.”

A lot of people are interested in the self-destructive behavior of celebrities. It is a little bit of an obsession: Is Nicole Richie losing weight? Is Lindsay using? Is Amy Winehouse still alive? People want to know. The troubling behavior is intriguing and the press does a great job at, in essence, kicking celebrities when they’re down.

Relaters

“Witnessing such behavior also tends to provoke our own narcissistic impulses, causing us to feel envy, and tempting us to act like the celebrities we admire.”

“But for anyone who has experienced childhood trauma – the fundamental source of pathological narcissism – surrendering to such impulses can lead even mildly narcissistic people to spiral out of control with devastating results.”

Individuals with their own psychopathology or traumatic histories can be tempted (or even feel envious) by the self-destructive behavior of celebrities. There’s something triggering about it that makes these people want to engage in the same self-destructive behavior.

So there we go: In this world we have Dr. Drews, Regulars, and Relaters. I think that your response can change depending on the situation, and that it applies to anyone struggling – not just celebrities.

For example, I think about this girl who went to my college and was very obviously struggling with an eating disorder. “Regular” people would gossip about how sick she was. You’d hear the “I see her at the gym every single morning” and “I heard she eats a plate of broccoli for dinner” comments. Yes, it’s wrong and mean, but unfortunately that’s reality (at least on college campuses). Now, I was a Relater (struggling with an ED myself), so this girl kind of triggered me. I didn’t want to be that sick, but seeing her around campus would almost encourage my eating disorder; tempt me to cut corners, lose just 5 lb., eat a plate of broccoli for dinner, etc. That drove me CRAZY. I didn’t want to be a Relater – I wanted to be a Dr. Drew. I wanted to just empathize with her, wish she would get help, recognize how miserable she probably felt, and know how tough things were for her right now.

This is still a goal of mine: That Dr. Drew Response.

Sharing therapists

I’ve been in all different levels of treatment with numerous professionals and various treatment centers, and overall I’d have to say that both group and individual therapy are important (and beneficial) in recovery.  With group, there are several people who you can bounce ideas off of, get advice from, relate to, and rely on for support.  I feel like most of the real therapy work happens in individual, though, where you can focus on your specific issues, goals, etc.  I really do think it helps to have both individual and group components to your treatment plan, though.

This said… something that has always thrown me off is having my individual therapist as my group therapist.  This has happened to me a couple of times, in residential, IOP, outpatient, etc.  It changes the dynamic for me for a couple of reasons:

1. Every time I said something to the group I though, “has she heard this already?  did I tell her this before?”
2. I read (too much) into the things that she said
3. If I were having a bad day, she usually noticed
4. I wondered if there would be repercussions to the things I said (for example, I didn’t want to mention something in passing and have to spend the next two individual sessions processing it).
5. I worried that I’d treat group like an individual session and spend too much of the total time focusing on my own issues

These aren’t all bad things.  It’s good that my therapist would recognize that I was having a crappy day, since I likely wouldn’t have brought it up and the therapists who didn’t know me as well probably didn’t know anything was not right.  She also probably pushed me a little harder, since we did have a relationship and she could do that comfortably.  So, for the most part, it was good for me to have some groups with my individual therapists.

With all of this said, where things start to get a little messier is when other people in the group also share the same individual therapist.  I’ve been in some programs where everyone had the same primary therapist and others where there were a handful of individual therapists that also ran groups.  Both situations add that extra variable to the equation – sharing a therapist with another person in your group.

The therapeutic relationship is so unique that sometimes I think it can be challenging to “share” your therapist with someone else that you know.  I’m not concerned about the confidentiality as much as the dynamics of the relationship.  As the patient, you only have one therapist.  When you have a good relationship, it feels special.  You feel like you have this connection that maybe other patients don’t have.  It makes sense – every week you are confiding in this person, trusting him/her to guide you and to give you some insight.  This relationship and person mean something to you.  He/she is a part of your life.

Being in a group with your therapist and another one of her patients is a reminder that you’re not the only patient.  You know this logically, but the reminder can be kinda tough.  Sometimes it’s rough to see her concerned and focusing on someone else.  It can feel invalidating.  It can feel like a competition between you and the other patient.  It can be hurtful if you feel like you’re being ignored or that your interaction with the therapist is different.  It really adds a dozen additional variables into the therapeutic relationship equation.

There are a lot of things that make eating disorder groups tough.  Girls get competitive over eating, weight, exercise, etc – even if you don’t allow talk about numbers.  You have to be careful who you put in a group together, and even having one or two pretty anti-recovery people can change the whole atmosphere.   Sharing a therapist with several of the girls almost adds another thing to compete over.  Even if you refuse to participate in the competition to get the most attention or require the most concern (really, these competitions exist!), it can be hurtful to to feel neglected or uncared about.  I don’t think this is a topic that is often addressed in groups… but I think that sharing a therapist with other girls, and all being in the same group together led by your primary therapist, can be a little tricky…

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

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.

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.

What does Ed look like?

I know a lot of patients (and professionals) who refer to their eating disorder as “Ed” (E.D.).  I’ve always been a little wary of this… it feels weird to name a disorder that I’m struggling with.  It makes me feel like I have schizophrenia or DID or something.  However, in some ways it helps to thing of the eating disorder as a separate voice.  It helps me to separate what I want from what the eating disorder wants.

My dietitian once told me “don’t bring Ed to dinner – leave him at home.”  I have this vision of my sitting at a restaurant, with Ed at the end of the table with just a glass of water.  Very silly, I know… but for some reason that helps me.  Maybe it’s because I am separating the eating disorder from myself.

People with eating disorders are competitive — that’s (one) reason why you have to be careful who you put in groups together.  I have some friends who I really like, but feel competitive with or triggered by.  It’s easier for me to think of our two Ed’s fighting.  We brought them along with us and now they are arguing.

Okay, now it sounds like I have an invisible friend… and usually I don’t think of the eating disorder as “Ed” — but there are certain situations where it’s helpful for me.  But, my question is — what does your Ed look like?  Do you have a mental image of it?  I’m curious to hear how others envision it.  I’ll draw mine and post it in the next entry…

You’ve been in treatment too long if…

(in no particular order)

1. You measure the cost of things in nutrition appointments (ex: That shirt is one nutrition appointment. These shoes are worth two appointments).
2. You start dressing like your professionals (or maybe, they starts dressing like you…)
3. “Treatment” is a recurring event with no end date on your calendar.
4. You’ve never needed to purchase “Eating in the Light of the Moon” because at some point you have been given a photocopy of every chapter.
5. In group, no one sits in your seat, even when you’re not there (because you’ve been sitting there since last year).
6. The group therapist wishes you would just finish treatment already so that she could start recycling therapy topics.
7. You remember when some of the current therapists were interns.
8. You’ve modified the standard food log template to create your own (improved, of course)
9. Your therapist notices when you buy a new outfit (since she’s seen all of your other clothing).
10. When considering changing jobs, the new company’s mental health insurance is a deciding factor.

I am not guilty of all of these…. but more than a few.