For a long time, I refused to admit that I had a problem. Disorder, what disorder? Everyone wants to be thin, women are supposed to watch what they eat, and exercise is good for you. No problem here. Now mind your own damn business and let me exercise until my gym clothes are bloody.
Eventually, it got to the point that I could no longer fool myself into thinking that my behaviors were normal. I saw other people enjoying life, I observed their energy and vitality like an observer standing apart, remote, watching through a window. Or bars. Or maybe it was me that was inside the bars. I just knew that the place I was in was very, very wrong, but didn't have the voice to ask for help or the courage to reach out.
Last December I finally admitted that I couldn't do it on my own anymore. After over 8 years of insisting that I could take care of things myself, that everything was under control, I had to bury that delusion and reach out for help. After some bad therapy experiences as an adolescent I had sworn up and down that I would never set foot in a psychologist's office, ever again. Well, I did. It had taken me the better part of a decade, but I finally wanted help. I found a psychologist, set up a consultation, and nearly died of anxiety and uncertainty about that first appointment. And to my utter shock, I actually liked her. Now, I thought, here is my chance. This woman is in the business of fixing people, and she is willing to work with me. Surely I'll be mended in no time.
Now I am realizing that there is another step beyond just wanting help. Now I have to learn how to allow people help me. How to break down the walls, how to trust others when they claim to care about me. I'm not quite there yet, even after seeing H. for 9 months I still have a hard time articulating my thoughts, and the ED voices in my head are still screeching in desperate attempts to block out her advice and insights.
Allowing someone to help you doesn't mean that you can just sit back and let yourself be "fixed." Wave the therapy wand, make the pain go away, everyone goes out for ice cream afterwards. If only.
Allowing others to help is not the last step. When you truly allow someone to help, you don't ask them to save you. You let them teach you enough to finally help yourself, the ultimate light at the end of the tunnel.
5 comments:
Cammy, this is great insight! After admitting there is a problem and deciding to seek help (which I know is always hard), that's when the real work begins. Therapy is never easy, but you are definitely right in that the ultimate goal is to learn and "gain" wings to help yourself fly towards the light at the end of the tunnel. (and eventually surpass it) Keep remembering that H.'s insight and advice is the "logical" one and not the ED voice.
Cammy,
Just letting you know: I am so incredibly proud of all of the digging and insights you have developed.
I have found it's much easier to want recovery than to be willing to do the work.
Carrie
Give someone a fish, they have dinner. Teach someone to fish, they eat for a lifetime.
This is a great analogy. I'm glad you are where you are in the process. All we have to do is keep fighting and notgive up hope.
"Now I am realizing that there is another step beyond just wanting help. Now I have to learn how to allow people help me."
Oh my word. You have no idea how much that comment sums up EXACTLY what i'm feeling. Thank you so much for this post, it's so insightful
Lola x
That's certainly a big step, allowing people to help you. Good for you! :)
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