Now, I'm not being self-deprecating, I'm not looking for affirmations from anyone, I'm simply stating the obvious. From one day to the next my ability to process the multitude of mental factors vacillates as radically as the plots and characters on (fill in your favorite soap opera title here). I feel it necessary to add here that I am not saying I am not an intelligent person, either. True, much of the knowledge I've retained over the years could fairly be qualified as "the definition of trivial", but some of it has served me well. SOME of it. I have forgotten all of my spanish, most of my animal biology (see blog #1), and I feel confident in saying I was never even in the room with someone teaching geography. For Christmas one year, Jeff gave me a magnetic set of countries with a flat placemat type of thing to order them on. Thank God the earth is flat or getting all those countries on would have been brutal...
Now, in all seriousness, I started this blog thinking it would be all fun and games. But I'm going to seize this opportunity to blog about my morning and be really honest. This morning, I had an appointment with my therapist. I started seeing my therapist, Jan, about 4 years ago. She specializes in treating adolescents and adults with eating disorders. So, why am I there? I've struggled with anorexia since I was about 14. I've been incredibly ill. I was told after a bit of testing that my heart's ability to support my body was failing. My kidneys are damaged with reduced kidney function. I have had stretches of time where it was like seeing the world through someone else's eyes. When I was pregnant with Ava, I felt like the poster child for healthy pregnant mamas. I didn't count one calorie, I didn't push my activity level, I loved looking in the mirror. The weight change on the scale fascinated me. If you've heard anything about Sophia's pregnancy, you will understand why I'm not including that here. But, whether I was striving or merely surviving, that anorexic voice was always there; sometimes it was just hushed a bit. At this point in recovery (because, do not kid yourself - a person with an eating disorder is as much an addict as an alcoholic), I am working only with my therapist. I no longer see a dietitian or a psychiatrist. I don't have to schedule weekly weigh-ins anymore either. What I do have to do that is harder than everything else combined, is be honest. I have to walk into Jan's office, sit down, and as she says, "own my emotions". I'm not good at this. The anorexia pushed me to a point where my emotional self shut off. There was no way you could distinguish between happy, sad, angry, excited, etc. unless I straight out told you how I felt. But, that was a bigger problem than it seemed since I had also stopped feeling any of those emotions. After years of what some days appears as a lot of busting my ass to get healthy and other days seems as though I'm merely gliding by on my Zoloft, I still struggle to face my reality.
Our schedules got crazy around here and I had to cancel a couple appointments. Cancelling those appointments throws me off my rhythm a lot. So, today I walked into Jan's office after not having seen her in two months. And it was rough. My favorite thing about my therapist is that she doesn't pull her punches. She calls me on my bull, she makes me "own" my everything; well, she tries to make me own my everything. This is a skill I just haven't pinned down. Today was the culmination of having almost 2 full months to kick around all the 'filler' in my head. I went in really feeling that I didn't have much to say. Turns out, I was full of eating-disordered thoughts. The root cause(s) of my anorexia is something I have to wrap my head around fully before I go blogging it to the rest of the world. But, here is what I learned today: I need to take the bad that has happened and I need to own it and what I have allowed it to create in my world. I need to take away the power I've given to the unfortunate parts of my past. I need to acknowledge that the damage, the pain, the struggle exist. And then I need to let go of all of that. It doesn't serve me in anyway. Nothing can be gained from picking it apart again. When this funk rises up and starts to swallow me, it is because I still let the past pose as my present, my future, and my reality. So, today I start working on putting my past away. Today I have two healthy, beautiful little girls who need to have their Mama around for a long, long time; even if I can't see me being needed. I will gladly accept input on the best way to let go of the trash that has polluted my essence for 29 years. That sounds straight forward enough, right?
My mom has a favorite saying she learned along her very own path of letting go and becoming the incredible woman she is today, "I have let far too many people live rent free inside my head".
This property owner is pissed. It is time to evict.
10/4.
3 comments:
Brilliant post, Angela! Unwanted tenants in your head?? This reminds me of something my mom would always say to us kids when we would fart. "If they don't pay the rent, they gotta get out!" LET ER RIP ANG!!!
Indeed....off the island for the sick and wrong voices! cheering you on, Adrienne
The crowd goes wild! What a great post and we're all rooting for you!
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