Feeding the Beast

“I am really pissed off!”

This is not a sentence I say often. Sure, I get frustrated and irked here and there. But, anger is an emotion I have a hard time with.

From a young age, anger scared me because it was loud and unpredictable.  I associated it with someone losing control and hurting others. To this day, I shrink a little when I hear a raised voice and I avoid conflict whenever I can. My discomfort with rage is not limited to when I see it in others. Being angry causes a lot of shame for me; and I dislike shame more than any other emotion. Needless to say, I have gone to great lengths to suppress my anger in the past.

So yes…I have a hard time with this emotion. But I am mad at the moment. And, rather than deny it or run away from it, I am embracing it as a critical fuel to my ongoing recovery.

I am angry with Anorexia. It is an unforgiving illness that robs you of so much of your life. I know this. Of course, I know this. But, something that has becoming glaringly apparent as I recover is that it robs you of the normality of the day-to-day.

A few weeks ago, I attended a Leadership meeting at work. It was a fully-packed 2-day event filled with strategic discussions, team building and fun. I started preparing for this meeting a week before. Normal, right? Maybe. Except that I was not preparing my content  – that was done. Instead, I was  gathering all the tools I had to ensure I ate enough throughout those fully-catered 2 days. We talked about it at the Clinic to ensure I had a master plan; we visualized the meals; and we made sure I had backup food in case I couldn’t face the catered option.

I was stressed but I was ready. I walked into the room and immediately  my brain went into scan mode. “What do we have here….muffins, hmmm, donuts, ouf, fruit, ok, etc.” People were talking to me and I was barely there as I took everything in.  Immediately, a dialogue started in my head about what to eat and when to eat it.

I sat back down while I continued to analyze what I would eat. As I did this, I watched people come in, grab something to eat, sit down, all the time chatting away with their colleagues. The meeting started but part of my mind was still at the buffet – my recovery voice urging me to get up and get something to eat – which I eventually did.

Later, as we were eating lunch, a similar dialogue started in my head as everyone was gathering at the buffet line. I filled my plate and sat down and managed to remain focused on a conversation with my colleague. When I was finished, though, I knew I was still hungry; and that is when things became really hard.

Recovering from Anorexia has some great moments – one of them being getting in touch with your hunger again, acknowledging it and feeding it. But, when you have long associated denying your hunger as a reflection of your personal strength, it takes a lot of energy to admit you are still hungry AFTER finishing your plate and doing something about it.

So, there I sat for 20 minutes, repeating the words: “get up and get a cookie, get up and get a cookie…” in my head.

I eventually did and was proud. But before I could bask in the moment too long, I watched one of my colleagues stand up mid sentence, walk to the dessert table while talking, grab two cookies and sit back down – fully present in the moment and the discussion.

And then it hit me. For lots of people, eating is completely natural. It is like breathing. It requires very little thought and feels perfectly normal – like slipping on a comfortable pair of slippers.. The meals and snacks we had over those 2 days were NON-EVENTS – for everyone but me.

And then I got mad. “I’m done with this,” I said to myself. “I want to be like THEM. That is what recovery looks like. That is how I want to be!”

I can still feel my frustration now and  I use it to push me further in my recovery. This is what the journey is all about: hyper awareness to keep you focused on your goal and inspire you to take corrective action. It is the most exhausting thing I have ever done but it is the farthest I’ve ever come in my efforts to get healthy.

And while I sometimes long for the oblivion I used to have about illness and its effects on my life, I know that there is no going back.

I know  what I want. I just need to keep remembering that!