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.

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.

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.

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.

Letting it go

I started this day in a panic over insurance.  I hate insurance.  I know that is such a blind, ignorant statement, but at this moment (and a lot of other moments) I really do.

Unfortunately it is a holiday (well, that in itself is not unfortunate), which means that neither insurance nor my treatment provider is working.  There’s nothing I can do about it today.  I can’t resubmit my claim or beg for more days.  I don’t know if I will be going to my appointment tomorrow.

I don’t want to spend the next 24+ hours fretting over this, but at the same time, I do want to.  I know that worrying is not productive, but my mind is filled with “what if?”s and worst-case scenarios.  It’s as if turning it over and over in my mind will somehow prepare me for whatever happens tomorrow.

While trying to remind myself that worrying is not productive, I remembered this quote:

Behind all of this lay the “mind like water” concept … when you throw a pebble into a pond, what does the water do?  It responds with total appropriateness to the force and mass of the rock.  It does nothing more and nothing less.  It doesn’t overreact or underreact.  It doesn’t react at all.  It simply interacts with whatever comes to it and then returns to its natural state. – David Allen, Getting Things Done

So that’s my goal for today and tomorrow: “mind like water.”  I have to let it go for today.  I will try and be calm until hit with the insurance rocks.