The Twilight Zone of Recovery

Some of the most challenging crossroads and turning points are found in the twilight zone of recovery. What in the world is "the twilight zone of recovery?", you may be asking while wondering, have I ever experienced this place?

The twilight zone of recovery is not a psychological term like "denial" or "resistance" or "motivation".  It is that nebulous place where there has been behavior change, but not enough for you to be considered recovered. You know you are different, but do not know where you are, how you got there, or where to go next. You feel afraid to keep going, but afraid to go back. You are not sure you like the person you are becoming, but do not like the person you used to be either. Neither option sounds good, especially if changes in self-worth have not kept pace with changes in weight. 

When you look back, you feel pulled to a life you swore you would leave forever, but you look forward and can not imagine what is ahead, almost like driving to the edge of a cliff, coming to a screeching halt before going over the edge, too scared to look to see what will happen if you keep going. It is as though the eating disorder has hands that are pulling you back while friends, family, and helping professionals have hands pulling in the opposite direction. You are caught in the middle, unsure which way to go next. 

 

The twilight zone of recovery is different for everyone. I remember being there several times. Once was when I had gained back enough weight to have a period again, and did not want to gain anymore. Even though I thought I looked good enough, I knew I was not finished. There was still way too much thinking about food and control of what I ate. But, I was afraid to go forward, so treaded water there for quite awhile, considering a return to the past because the next mountain to climb seemed too daunting. 

The twilight zone of recovery is that place KL described in her comment. She has made some changes on her own, but is afraid to reach out for professional help. I remember feeling like that, too. When I finally admitted to myself that I had an eating disorder, I literally felt frozen. I was afraid to get better and afraid to not get better at the same time. I desperately wanted someone to help me and I desperately wanted to be left alone with my behaviors. This is what happens when you are confronted with a crossroads. 

If you are in your twilight zone, I invite you to write about it. You may help someone else by sharing your story. 

Comments

[patty]

Thank you, Kim, for sharing your thoughts about the twilight zone of recovery. I think it is very interesting, and I can really relate to it. Personally, I've been thinking a lot about recovery lately, wanting to move forward, but being held back by the the apparent fear of gaining weight, and the underlying fear of so many things else that I am still trying to figure out.
I like how you describe the feeling of being stuck, yet scared of taking the leap of faith: "almost like driving to the edge of a cliff, coming to a screeching halt before going over the edge, too scared to look to see what will happen if you keep going" This reminded me about how Jenni Schaefer, the author of Life without Ed, describes the recovery process as climbing a tall mountain. It is not only a painful process in which we often go two steps forward and three steps back, but it requires faith on people, life, the possibility of recovery, and most importantly, the decision to do recovery and get all the way through it. In Jenni's book "goodbye ed, hello me," she says that recovery doesn't end when we reach the mountain top. In order to truly separate from Ed, we need to "put the parachute on and jump...took that leap of faith into the unknown" by "having faith, letting go and trusting" our body (that our body can handle the food), our treatment team, family, and friends, and choose to "feel the fear and the pain" that comes with recovery and life. For me, "jumping" also means to be willing to take the risks of being hurt and stay mentally present (physically too) and trust people, not isolate myself, and start embracing life (which is opposite of ED). But even thinking about this is scary, because this separation means that I will have to take ED and other self-destructive behaviors out of my back-pocket, and CHOOSE to live. I not only will have to want recovery, I will also have to be willing to do everything it takes to be fully recovered (yes, fully recovered, not just getting by), and this requires me to "have faith" in my therapist and gain weight (eat ALL of the food), to "let go" of my old habits and thinking (perfectionism), and "trust" that I can do it because others have done it too.
I've been at the bottom of this mountain, and I've been sliding down the mountain so many times. I'm just so sick and tired of my ED. What do I have to lose anyway by taking some risks and jump for my life? Last session, Dan told me that "anything worth doing well is worth doing poorly." I guess I don't have to do recovery perfectly, I just have to decide to stick to it. Going to Whitman College is like a "jump" for me. A possible turning point, a crossroad. I'm scared and excited at the same time. A part of me wants to embrace life like all other teenagers, to explore my passions, and have fun. Yet another part is weighed down by my ED and depression, coming to a halt before the cliff, afraid to leap. I don't know what the free fall will be like, and who will be down there to catch me. And what if my parachute is broken by the fierce wind?
But I am doing it even though I still have doubt in myself and full recovery (or what it really means).

I am eating, feeling, and it hurts. It is harder than I thought- eating, keeping it down,
and continuing to do so even after I am gaining weight, or feel like I am. They are like phantoms chasing me, feelings.
Casting a dark, shapeless shadow;
spreading, devouring my insides.
The last couple times that I tried to fight, I failed.
Unnamed and tangled up, my targets stay afloat. I stopped trying after the panic, anxiety, depression, and self-hatred hit.
I hid from them, from myself;
shielded by my behaviors, I could not be hurt.

This time, I am stuck between my past and my dream. A tiny bit of hope just enough for me to get stuck in between. And work on recovery, even though I do not totally believe that I can do it.
Yet. Sometimes I curse hope, for without it I do not have to face this crossroad. I do not have to walk on. And walk on, and walk on...Once upon a time, I thought I could rest...or so I thought. But I guess I can't now. That was once upon a time...not too long ago.

[Cheryl]

I've been in the twilight zone for years, spending only brief weeks or just a day either in full-out ED or recovery. Nebulous is the perfect word, and the Twilight Zone is also perfect to describe how it feels. I have no idea what I want and no firm commitment to either direction, and it is the most confusing and scary place to be. Step forward, step back, and so on...I knew when I started that this was part of the process, because everyone told me. I just never expected it to last for eight years. Who knows how many more years I have to go of this? Ask for help, then run and hide; it seems to flip-flop almost daily now, and it's just wearing me down.

[Dr. Kim Lampson]

Patty
I am very moved by what your wrote about the crossroads you are facing and what it feels like to be in the twilight zone. I wonder if your comment about trying and feeling discouraged by failing may hold the key to the way to move out of this place.
Your comment about hope, that you curse if for without it you would not be facing this crossroads is very thought provoking. I would like you to let me know how you do as you move to a new level in your recovery.

To: kklr@msn.com

[Kell]

As a mother of a ed child..this is very insightful..and heartbreaking all at the same time.How is it we can hurt so deeply and profoundly? How can we be so afraid of life? My heart cries out for the answer to my childs pain. I long in my heart to help you, feed you, nourish your sense of womanhood. I am sending a great big "Mother bear" hug to you.Please keep talking,writing,nurturing,and growing. The world needs your sensitivity and talents.Lots of love to you all.x

[Dr. Kim Lampson]

Cheryl
Thank you for writing about what you have experienced in this place. My hope for you is that you are now at a crossroads or you would not be writing this comment. There is always a reason why someone stays in the twilight zone and it is hard to move on until you figure out what this is.Sometimes writing something like this down and sharing it helps you take the next step.

To: kklr@msn.com

[Acai Optimum]

very informational... educative as well, i read and felt like reading over and over again....good job!

[runforjoy]

I really like the description of this time in the recovery process as a "twilight zone". That is really what it felt like for me, like a time of complete uncertainty, being "healthy" enough to avoid being forced into treatment, but still having no idea of who I really was or how to address the issues that led to the eating disorder. I lived in this shadowland for more than 5 years. I finally feel like I have come out of the twilight zone, like I am discovering a sense of there being a "core" to me and starting to take a look at the things that caused (and still cause) so much pain that I had to use an eating disorder to numb out the emotions. The twilight zone was a dreadful place because no one could see my suffering, as I was no longer emaciated, but I was hurting just as badly as before. Eventually, this led to a relapse. However, in the relapse, I finally decided that I didn't want to be only halfway recovered and that, this time, I would keep fighting for complete recovery. Right now, I feel like the morning has finally replaced the twilight in my life, but I still have to be extremely careful about not letting myself slip back into that place, and to keep moving forward in recovery. Staying still in the twilight eventually became too exhausting.

[Ann]

Thank you for writing about the Twilight Zone! It is a great analogy and seems to describe where I'm at right now. I'm in this big transition in my life right now, graduating from grad school, losing my therapist and med doctor, starting a temp new job, searching for a new job, possibly moving to another state. I'm scared to look for that new therapist that will most likely only last through the summer, I'm nervous about finding a full time job and having to move away from my support system. I'm scared that I'll fall back into the pit with Ed and not be able to get out. I'm scared that I'll never be able to get up to the calorie intake that my dietician wants me at and at the same time scared to be at that level. I'm scared to completely severe the ties to Ed. I don't want to make the wrong decision, I don't want to live like this forever. This is definitely an exhausting place to be. But, I don't know how to move out of it and closer to recovery.