I just wanted to check in about how things are going. Since the last time I posted, I had two more days in the immersion, and I would like to reflect on that here. In the sessions, we worked on dyads, which are two-person conversations where one person speaks, and the other person listens while only responding with the words "Thank you" after the speaker is finished. Specific questions are poised, and speaking can be very difficult, emotional, therapeutic. The questions can be very deep, and force you to sometimes go to a place you are not always willing to go. The questions we worked on were "Tell me how you love", Tell me how you would like to love", "Tell me how you are mean to yourself", and "Tell me how you show kindness to yourself". The latter two questions were particularly poignant for me, in that I had many things to say about how I am mean to myself, and not so much to say about how I am kind to myself. After speaking and then listening to my partner, I had a lot to reflect on about ways I can be kinder to myself. In the group discussion we had after the dyads, one girl spoke about an injury-prevention workshop she attended, where the facilitator spoke about how "every step we take can be a step toward injury, or improvement". I suppose this was in reference to physical injury, but it makes sense for emotional injury too. One of the controversies surrounding addictions and recovery (and eating disorders falls in there too, I believe) is one of choice. Does an addict choose to take drugs? Does an addict choose to go into recovery? In taking steps toward recovery, this controversy still exists. You must choose recovery every day, especially when faced with triggering situations, we must choose recovery over temptation, in order to remain in recovery. Of course, this is not as easy as it sounds; recovery is a journey of mountains and valleys, not a linear path. However, with awareness and mindfulness, recovery becomes easier over time.
I don't believe addiction is a choice; much like a person does not choose to have a physical illness, a person with an addiction is suffering an illness. Research suggests that addiction is a brain disease, and I support this stance. So, if addiction is an illness, then how can recovery be a choice? Much like physical illness, one can choose to seek treatment, but it is not always successful. The best intentions and the greatest hopes for a cure do not always bring a full recovery. Perhaps a partial recovery, in some cases, but in many cases, the illness becomes too strong and the body gives up. Is it possible that suffering from an illness, whether physical or mental, is just part of the process? What we need to learn in this life in order to move on to the next one? When a cancer patient dies after a long struggle with illness, even with treatment, we do not place blame on the patient. When an addict dies after a long struggle with illness, even with treatment, how do we look at this? Do we accept that some things are more powerful than medicine, and that even though the patient went through treatment, it still wasn't enough? Or do we look at the addict with shame, thinking that they didn't try hard enough, or they didn't want it bad enough? This brings me back to treatment when I was sent home. I was told that because I had a relapse in my behaviours, I wasn't ready for treatment. I needed to be ready to face my illness in order to overcome it, and a relapse was evidence that I wasn't ready yet. Now, if we change the language here, and look at it from a physical illness perspective, is this fair? Is it fair to say that a cancer patient whose cancer spreads after chemotherapy treatment clearly wasn't ready for treatment in the first place? Maybe they should have waited until their body was strong enough to fight the cancer? No, of course not. This would be ridiculous, and completely unethical. At the first sign of cancer, doctors operate, right? They want to fight it in its early stages to prevent it from getting worse. So why wait until an eating disorder is in a moderate to severe state before starting treatment? By this point, the mind has become warped by the disorder, and it is harder to fight than if treatment were applied at the first signs of illness. It becomes harder to treat, harder to gain control of, and the likelihood of relapse is much higher. As far as my illness was concerned, I would think I was in the mild-moderate category when I attended treatment. Probably a good place for intervention, but I still struggled. I still struggle to this day. Not as often as I had, but it's still there. So, if I believe that my disorder is an illness, then what choice do I have for successful recovery? I can hope for a full recovery, and I can have my best intentions to do well, but is that enough? Am I in control of any of this? Not to say that I should just give up and accept that there may not be hope, but I am questioning the degree of choice I truly have here.
There is a theory of neural pathways that I have heard through various disciplines, including psychology and yoga philosophy. The theory suggests that we have pathways in our brain that become learned over time. By responding the same way to a given situation, then we carve the pathway deeper, and it becomes automatic over time. When faced with a stressful situation, going down the ED pathway becomes learned and automatic over time. After doing this for so long, it is difficult to even consider taking another path. But, because the brain is plastic (meaning "able to change"), we can learn to take a different pathway over time. It may be extremely difficult at first, and we must be very conscious and aware of the steps we are taking, but eventually the new pathway becomes automatic. If it had been automatic to binge after every stressful situation, it can become automatic not to. It is important to have a dialogue with your Self when you are faced with these triggering situations. Ask yourself, "Is this step in a direction of injury, or improvement?" Even with contemplation, it may still be difficult to take a step in a new direction. It can be scary, but over time it will get better. I may not be able to choose to fully recover, but I can choose which steps I take.
Last night, I was in a situation where I felt an urge to binge and purge. I considered it carefully, thought about what my options were, but still gave in to the urge. I should have gone to school this morning, but chose to stay home because I was exhausted. I am not happy with the choice I made; I know I could have done better. It is easy to now be very mean to myself, but instead, maybe I will choose to be kind to myself. Acknowledge that this happened, and next time I can be stronger. I know I can do it; I've gotten over the urges in the past without giving in. It's difficult, but not impossible. At this point, it is more important than ever to be mindful and aware of what I am doing, how I am feeling, and to acknowledge those feelings. Journalling will be helpful; I know that I struggle with this all the time, but again, can I choose to take a step toward injury or improvement? In the big picture of things, I don't know that I have control over my recovery, but I can control the small things that come up on a daily basis. Acknowledging issues that arise, being mindful of triggering situations, and making the best choices I can in that moment. This may not be easy; I know that I tend to fall back into old habits more often than I choose not to. But I can get through this.
The last thing I wanted to touch on was the yogic principle of Ahimsa, or non-violence. Approaching situations from a place of love and non-harming. I feel that ahimsa is very relevant to how we treat ourselves during recovery. It is so easy to be hard on ourselves when we slip; it is much harder to be kind to ourselves.
That's enough for now I think,
Namaste
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