Writing "The Book"

Writing my book on recovery, has taken on a new purpose for me. It is really the final step in my recovery- as I imagine it was for the others before me who have done the same thing. It is helping me understand myself and my path more deeply, helping me review and remember where I have been. It is helping me understand who I have been and where I want to go. It is the ultimate form of accountability for me as well. I realize that by doing this now, I am saying to myself (and the world obviously, but more importantly to myself) that I am really healed. Everytime I started writing and stopped, I think it was because I still knew I couldn't put the final pieces together. And I didn't feel justified in writing the book. But I feel now that I am a credible "witness".

Writing this is like none of the other writing I have ever done before. In many ways it flows so easily and comes so quickly, but then at times, I struggle to make sense of ideas that are so deeply buried I can't possibly put words to them. And it is so deeply personal, yet I know I have intellectualized a great deal of it, as that is my nature, and indeed there are aspects of the book where I have done that on purpose. But writing the book, is key to me right now. And whether anything happens with it, it doesn't really matter. I think anybody recovering from any type of personal challenge should take this time for themselves to write their story, to invest in this inward reflection and make meaning out of the experience for themselves. In many ways, once I have written it, I feel like I will be able to put it away. I will know I have "borne witness" to the events and made sense of my experience, and that will be an important stage for me in walking away from it all as well. Each chapter that I have written and "gotten right" it has been this sigh of relief for me, because I can let go of those ideas floating around in my mind. This incredible journey has taken place, and now part of my letting go is actually letting go of the highs and the lows and the process. Writing it all is helping me deeply internalize the lessons I have learned in a way that I don't have to process it in the forefront of my mind so much.

But, I am also opening myself up to some other new experiences right now that I am excited about. I am going to try some new and different types of writing and not let myself walk away from them due to lack of confidence (or just boredom) and I've also jumped into a new professional opportunity (well was really dragged, but was dragged along smiling) that I think will be a positive growth experience for me. So, my life is not "The Book". And I have no timetable for the book, because I want it to develop and really reflect what I want it to say before I put it out there. And I really want the confidence that I have the credibility to put it out there. I need to be able to stand behind it and say, I recovered, and this is how. I know why the last relapse occured, it was stupid, and I was in over my head at the time, but still, it was not ok that I allowed it to happen. And I have to have the strength to see those times through and live through some trying cycles and know that I do indeed have the tools and that what I write about makes sense.

this is very stream of consciousness today....

the Young Ones

In trying to reach out to struggling recoverers, it is so much easier to make crossroads with adult women. The adolescents and young adults are so difficult, I can't imagine how therapists can wrap their heads around those cases. The difference seems to be the absolute buy in they have in the "Cult of Thinness". They are so willing to invest it all, lose it all, and totally believe that ED is the way. Older women are weary, and are open to the possibility that there is another way to live. The young ones have idols too, that are so thin, and the media is so saturated with images of perfection, sexuality and over the top fashionistas. Their cries for help seem to be these brief pleas-- thrown out to the black internet void-- they have moments where they just don't want to live that way, it hurts, it is scary, they want another way. Their survival instincts do kick in and they do want out. They want someone to pull them up and release them from their pain. But they want another way to STILL be thin, to STILL be perfect, to STILL please everyone. They don't understand that the "other way" means walking away from those ideas altogether and standing your own ground in this world of shallow iconography. They don't understand that they may be standing in the midst of negative messages from "helpful" loved ones. They don't understand that they themselves are still children inside and need to choose mentors who are strong and stand for strength, instead of self-destruction.

It's so hard for me to try to talk to them. I want so much for them not to waste as many years of their life as I did to this disease. I want them instead to throw it off and grasp their potential. But seeing them over and over hit the same brick wall I did, just breaks my heart for them.

In praise of recovery

I have wanted to really be able to know and define true recovery.

I think what it comes down to is that ability to be comfortable in your own skin, to be free from the obsessions and fears of food, to be able to eat when you are hungry and stop when you are full.

Right now, I can honestly say I am there.

Life is good.

Funny how with the last relapses in my life, I walked right into them. I knew I was going to have difficulty with what was going on, but I did them anyways- hoping- I wouldn't have a problem- but really sort of knowing it was stupid. So, I guess- my advice to my future self is "don't do anything stupid".

Seems like that applies to a great many situations in life.