This week's installment from RESTORING OUR BODIES, RECLAIMING OUR LIVES comes from a woman who busts a lot of myths about eating disorders.
When Marie first wrote to me, she described herself as a “functioning anorexic” with a husband and four children. But after being in and out of treatment programs throughout her adult life, she’d finally reached her turning point and was determined to break her dependency. I was honored when she arranged for me to come and speak in her community. That evening I met an astounding group of supportive friends and relatives, including Marie’s husband, who shared her recovery stage. A few weeks later, I was thrilled to learn that she’d begun to work with a gifted therapist who’d met her at that event. I asked Marie to tell me a bit more about her friends and family members, how those relationships had come about, and how they’ve affected and been affected by her recovery.
I’m a forty-four-year-old woman who’s suffered from anorexia for more than twenty years. I’ve finally moved from a long time in the half life to real recovery. Why now? What has been my motivation?
I have four young children, I have a husband. They need me. I realized that I was missing so much of my children’s lives. Until this year I’d never spent Christmas morning with my children. I was out running and they’d have to wait for me. I’d never eaten breakfast or lunch with my children. I’d never been able to travel far away from home, due to the constraints of my exercise and food routines. I’d never been able to eat lunches with girlfriends or celebrate with cake and ice cream. There were so many, “I never’s”!!
The motivation to take a big step forward in my recovery came from a realization that my long-term therapist and I had hit a wall. I was too busy pleasing her to recover. I realized I needed to make a change in my treatment if I wanted to make progress. So, after thirteen years of working with her, I made the decision to leave and find new treatment.
This was not easy to do. But I saw that I was stuck, not making changes. I knew that if I had the flu and didn’t get better, and the doctor kept giving me the same medicine, I’d switch doctors. Why shouldn’t it be the same in therapeutic relationships?
My dear high school friend encouraged me to go with my head and heart, and make the change. When I met with my therapist to tell her of my decision, she responded with hesitation. She talked about her needs, her wish to see me at the finish line. The focus wasn’t on what was best for me but rather on her bruised ego. I explained that my journey has included a combination of therapists, nutritionists, and treatment programs. Each has added a tool or part of the definition of my recovery. But it was time for the next step.
This past year working on recovery has been challenging. As I begin to unthaw, I see that not only are my spousal and familial relationships changing but so are my friendships. The old Marie was a pleaser at all costs. The happiness of others was primary in my life. Some of my friendships were unhealthy. Being a pleaser from a very young age to my father, mother, and other family members and friends took away my freedom to make choices that were right for me. As a young adult and throughout my middle age I’d align myself with friends who were controlling. I was so fearful of being disliked that I’d continue in these friendships.
An example: I ran several times a week with a woman who disliked me. She was jealous, controlling, and competitive. I’d come home tearful at things she said to me and start my day off with the residue of her angry, selfish comments. When I’d just about had enough, she would swoon and do something nice for me. I’d forgive and forget. She also viewed me as weak and sickly. As I journeyed into recovery, I began to feel intolerant of her selfishness and meanness. Coincidently, I had an injury that stopped my running completely. The timing of that injury helped me see how my approach to running and friendships was hurting me. I used the opportunity to get distance from both.
It can be invaluable to step back and judge what is healthy in a relationship and what is not. For the first time, I’m considering my own needs and feelings, what’s right for me. For example, I was the superwoman at our local swim club where my kids swam. I did everything from ordering suits to running meets. I volunteered for every job, every week, even if my children weren’t there. What if I weren’t there? Would I be forgotten or not needed? How scary!!
This summer, my children were interested in other activities and not so much in the swim club. I didn’t go to the swim club once. I knew that if I didn’t make the break complete, I might never break this pattern. I discovered I didn’t miss it at all, or the activities associated with it. I felt relieved and free.
This was true in my community involvements, too. I’ve realized that I was involved in many activities to fill the voids anorexia created. If I chaired or volunteered for this charity, it would make me special and worthy. People would think I was superwoman. I was running myself into the ground, using what little energy the anorexia spared me, sacrificing family time to fill the void. But I couldn’t keep up the pace.
Now as I try to put the pieces of my self back together, I take the time to step back and observe which relationships or commitments should continue. Which ones bring me pleasure? Which are a burden? As of now I’ve remained active in two or three organizations and resigned from the others. In the process I’ve realized that many of the qualities that made me successful as PTO president could and would also make me a wonderful mother and a wonderful friend.
As the ice melts, I’m now able to really feel which friendships hurt or sting. When time is so precious, why waste it on people who don’t respect or care about my feelings?
It’s not easy to listen to myself without ED haunting me. I repeat a mantra that I am OK, and that the guilt and shame must fade. The healthy self becomes louder than the unhealthy self over time. Recovery is not at all like the isolation and shame associated with ED. It’s much more powerful and rewarding. The choices are made by me, not the disease. So I practice asking, “Is this ED or me?” Knowing the answer to this question becomes very relevant to the choices I make about my social or personal life.
On various levels it’s sad to see the time that has evaporated, the hours wasted on unhealthy relationships, both personal and philanthropic. The final level has been my awareness of some of the patterns in my marital relationship. Having gotten married seventeen years ago, I realize that the man I married fell in love with the sick Marie. Bless his heart, when he chose to marry me, he saw past so many of my addictions. Yet I was very anorexic. I was looking for someone to take me to a better place. I married a very successful man who also had his own issues of perfection and success. He was also challenged with intimacy. He’d take care of me and I would demand little intimacy from him. A perfect match for ED’s Marie. I had little or no energy to partner with him. I was spending what little energy I did have to please him. He was CEO of a company, and while I was sick, he could be the CEO of me. He became the constant caregiver. If I were truly well, would he still want me?
Weeding through the intricacies of our relationship over the past months, I’ve tried daily to be his partner, not his daughter or employee. I am truly able now to give both physically and mentally to the marriage. I can communicate with openness and not anger. My husband is trying to make changes too. He’s beginning to listen to the needs that have surfaced through my recovery.
“In marriage, you can only be controlled if you allow yourself to be controlled,” my therapist says. The healthy self must actively express her voice, over and over.
