Strength in smiling but not in tears?

@WomenofHistory tweeted something that is bothering me immensely. The tweet was:
"Strength is when you have so much to cry for but you prefer to smile instead."
 Wow. Does that make my ED shout for joy.
For years, I have starved and pushed and ran my pain into the deep recesses of my mind and body so that I could put on a smile and a friendly demeanor. So I could function in the world. So I could be "successful" in my work and home. All the starvation, the pushing, the running, the subjugation of my pain and my tears and my emotions, has led me no one good.
Today, I struggle to open up, to share those tears, those feelings, the pain with others in my life. While true Star Trek Vulcans do not smile either, I vulcanized myself through flames and heat into a mold of the perfect approachable friendly person - ready and willing to help others with anything at any time. 
For me, strength is not in smiling in the face of so much pain. For me, strength is allowing myself to show my vulnerable side to others. Bravery is to bare my pain and tears to the world; to let them see that I am a human, after all. This is what I have been trying to teach my children. That it is okay to feel all emotions - anger, sadness, joy, pain. That you must allow yourself to feel them as each comes to the surface. "The only way out is through."
 My equine therapist said to me that I am a strong and brave woman. I have a hard time believing that (though I accepted that she believed that and thanked her.) Partly because in our society, a show of strength is seen as facing fears and pain with smiles.
So while I understand that the tweet was trying to send a positive message, personally, I think a better one would be "Strength is when you have so much to cry for, you let the tears water the seeds of a new day."

Appetites and control

The past few weeks, I've taken a break from my usual reading fare of late (books about innovation and creativity and better communication - work related topics) and delved back into one of my guilty pleasures - the Twilight series. [hey, no judging there. I realize my drivers license says I'm much closer to 40 than 16. Every one needs light reading now and then. :) ]

Oddly enough, when I was about halfway through Twilight, I was struck by how similar Edward's dilemma was to mine.

I've realized that my eating disorder is boiled down to my discomfort with appetites (all desires - for food, for sex, for companionship, for love, for understanding and trust and all the other perfectly normal human needs and wants.) I was never taught that I was allowed to need, to want and that those needs and wants were valid. I was raised to cater to others' whims. It's what the women in my family demonstrated and the men in my family demanded.

So, after a decade in recovery (the last 5 years more intense than the first due to financial reasons), I see that my battle with these appetites is played out through my ED behaviors. If I'm uncomfortable with the sexual desire I feel for my husband, I abuse myself through food. If I need to take a break from my children to take care of myself, I feel guilty and abuse myself through restricting. Of course, the same ED that tells you not to indulge in that yummy dessert or that extra helping is there for me as well - don't get me wrong. But as everyone who is involved with EDs says - it is NOT about the food.

So where does Edward come into this, you may ask? Well, all through Twilight (and actually, through the next two and part of the fourth books), Edward battles for control over his desire food Bella. First, it's her blood and her body; then more her body. But the conflict is there. If he lets go of his control, he fears destroying Bella, which would destroy his world.

I feel the same fear. If I let go of my control and give into my (perfectly normal and human) desires, I fear that everything will crumble about me. My husband will be disgusted by the force of my needs; the world will be revolted by the power of my desires; I'll be left alone with the pieces.

Edward, eventually, gives himself small tests - little challenges to see how far he can go. First, he sits next to Bella in class. A while later he sits closer. He gradually works himself to a quick kiss, then a hug, and holding, and eventually (well, I won't spoil it for the next generation who hasn't read or seen the Twilight saga.)

My recovery team (I love being able to say I have a whole team behind me now - individual therapist, nutritionist, group therapists, equine therapist - it's awesome support I've found in my out-patient quest to be rid of my demons...)
My team is using the same strategy with me. My husband and I fixed our connection so we've been taking steps toward the ultimate intimacy act (sex.) My nutritionist gives me food challenges most weeks to slowly work me through my fear and to prove that there in the ingredient lists of all these foods, not one has guilt, disgust, anxiety, or any other emotion in it. Food is just food.

So like Edward, I'm taking it one moment at a time. One step at a time.

For the first time since I relapsed, I really see a teeny tiny speck of light at the end of this journey.

Check my tweets at @diggingmeup

I have caved. I'm now on Twitter. Check out my feed at @diggingmeup where I post quotes, articles, blog posts, and retweets that interest or inspire me in my path to recovery.

Poetry eBook, Pain Uncovered, available

It's been awhile since I've posted, but I am hoping to get back into blogging now that my daughter is a bit older. In the meantime, check out my eBook of poetry entitled, Pain Uncovered - available on Barnesandnoble.com for $1. Let me know what you think of it!

Conquering Fear (WSJ article)

For those, like me, who often find Cognitive Behavioral therapy unhelpful, you may be interested in the article in the Wall Street Journal's Health Journal on January 2 which describes Acceptance and Commitment Therapy. This type of therapy centers on being mindful of negative thoughts, but not necessarily forcing them to change or argue with them.

I've been working on being more mindful for a few years - it was why I switched therapists a few years ago because CBT wasn't working for me. My current therapist is more in lines with this philosophy. To be aware of my feelings, acknowledge them, try to describe them if I can, and then ultimately share them with someone in my life.

I find when I remember to do this - breathe, feel the feelings, describe them (with perhaps an analysis of why I feel them), and share them, I tend to feel better and am better able to manage my eating disorder symptoms.

The trick for me is to remember to be mindful...

Hosting a parasite

I just finished reading The Host by Stephanie Meyer and I couldn't help but see the connection with my eating disorder. 

******Spoiler Alert*******

******Spoiler Alert*******




For those who haven't partook, The Host is set on Earth after an alien parasitic race has settled here. There are renegade humans left who have refused to be taken. One parasite (Wanderer) is implanted in one of the renegades (Melanie) in the hope that she would lead the aliens to the rest. Melanie is strong though and doesn't allow Wanderer to take over completely. Throughout the book, these two entities share one body and their thoughts and feelings often become intertwined. 

In the end of the book, Wanderer willingly sacrifices herself so that Melanie can have her body back. Against her wishes  but with her hopes, Wanderer is implanted into another human - one who had been taken over by the aliens for so long that the human inside her body was completely gone. 

The similarities with eating disorders are striking. The longer one struggles with an eating disorder, the harder it is to fight. Eventually, the human gets lost and is unable to function without the parasite - like the human into whom Wanderer is implanted. She had been controlled by a parasite for so long, the human was completely gone. 

Like the characters in the book, I feel like there are two entities inside me - Jeanne and Ed. I like to hope that Ed is the parasitic alien. 

Unfortunately, real life isn't like the world in the book.  There is no operation to remove Ed from my body. There are no medicines I can take. 

I can keep fighting to keep myself alive with the hope that someday there will be a way to remove Ed completely. Like Melanie in the book, I can keep trying to stay in control of my body, biding my time until I can have my body and life back. Hope is a powerful thing. 

Melanie was lucky - Wanderer didn't want to be a parasite. She willingly gave up her life to give Melanie her body, her life back. Ed isn't altruistic. He'll remain inside me until forcibly removed. But like Melanie, I won't willingly give up my body. I won't stop fighting. I'll keep trying to be me despite him. I will argue and yell at his voice and when I feel weak, I will ask for any help available to me. 

And perhaps, someday, there will be a way to remove Ed from me completely. 

Chronic conditions

In my email to a friend, I asked when do you stop trying to cure a chronic condition. This friend replied back that we both know that at best, I'll be able to manage my eating disorder like I do my allergies and hypothyroidism. That talking and sharing and admitting to myself that I'm tempted are my pills to control the symptoms. 

After almost 7 years of dealing with Ed, I think he's right. 

I searched the web for more info in chronic eating disorders, but there is very little information. I found one site that mentioned hat eating disorders in adults can be chronic and that treatment shouldn't focus on eliminating the illness. He site mentioned how in one case the knowledge that she didn't have to get rid of Ed completely helped to her be symptom free for two years. 

Why isn't there more information on this? Why haven't there been more studies? 

Most of the books and blogs I read talk about cures. They don't call it that, but essentially thats what they are. These authors tell you that recovery is possible, that you can live life completely and totally without Ed. To me, that's the same as a cure - being totally disease free.  

These authors tell us to never give up. To keep fighting Ed. That we can become recoverED, too!!

So what about those of us who have fought Ed for years with no sign of winning the war? We're older, more set in our ways, have more responsibilities - jobs, families, bills. We are highly functional, even when in the throes of the illness. We never have let our bodies become critically ill. Our diagnosis is often ED-NOS.   We have learned to survive in the real world, even though most of our conversations happen inside our heads. Ed has been a helpmate more than a destructive force. 

For years we struggle, feeling ashamed and guilty for not being able to beat Ed. And feel forgotten in all the talk about "recoverED." 

I don't want to be forgotten anymore. I don't want to feel like a failure anymore. 

I am not giving in to Ed. I still will fight like I always have to try to find other ways to cope. I will still take my medicine. But my end goal has to change.

Just because I haven't been able to live completely without Ed and may never be able to, doesn't make me a failure.
It makes me a survivor. 

Is anyone else an adult who has been fighting and/or living Ed for years? What are your thoughts? Do you think it would be easier (you would feel better) if the focus of your treatment was on living with Ed rather than getting rid of him? Do you think that would help you manage the illness better (less slips and relapses)?