What is the shoreline of recovery?

I was recently listening to a program on NPR about what makes world-class athletes so great.  There was a story about a woman who was attempting to swim across a large channel of water.  She was swimming through a thick fog and became overwhelmed with fatigue.  She called for the boat to pick her up and climbed into it with a heavy heart.  A few minutes later, the fog cleared, and she saw that the shoreline was only about 1 mile away.  She said, "If I had known the shore was so close, I would have kept going."  Five months later she returned to the channel and completed the feat.

I entered treatment and therapy for the first time over 10 years ago.  The work towards "recovery" is relentless, and I often wonder, "how much further do I have to go?"  I feel as if I am perpetually stuck in a fog, not knowing whether I have a few meters or a few thousand miles left before I can drag myself onto the shores of recovery.  Just like the woman in the story, I think that if I knew how much further I had to go, I could muster my strength and finish. 

But recovery from an eating disorder is not black and white.  

OFTEN, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE SHORE EVEN LOOKS LIKE. 

 

Let me demonstrate the obscurities of recovery from an eating disorder...

The Energy of Emotions

Eating disorders often serve the purpose of numbing us out, letting us escape from the pain and suffering of our daily lives. 

We feel sad, angry, hopeless, helpless, overwhelmed, etc --> 

we use eating disorder symptoms --> 

we feel numb. 

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. 

We think we're getting rid of the emotions. 

But the thing is, we're not. 

We're just pushing them down. 

Gratitude for Support

As we celebrate mother's day today, we often find ourselves reflecting on the significance of loved ones and support people in our lives.  This can bring up many emotions in us - gratitude, anger, joy, resentment, envy, loving, lonely, shameful, hopeful, scared, abandoned, and so on.  We may think about who we consider to be part of our family, ways in which our family has been both absent and present throughout our lives, what role our family plays in our illness and our recovery, and our role in building our own families.  We think about what our support people mean to us, and what qualities we appreciate most from them during our times of greatest need.

At my core...

At my core, I truly believe that we are all doing the best we can with the resources that we have.   

AND we can do better, try harder.   

How can we possibly do both?   

We can live in the moment.  We can practice acceptance of “what is” right now.  AND we can continue to learn and grow.   

We can surround ourselves with people, ideas, words, and images that inspire us and teach us new ways of thinking and being.  We can say yes to what is helpful and nourishing, and we can say no to what is harmful and discouraging.  We can recognize our values and act from them.  We can continue placing one foot in front of the next as we move along this unpredictable, messy, sometimes awe-inspiring journey.