Labels

I don’t like diagnostic labels. Sure, the medical establishment tries to convince us that labels are important. They tell us that if we have a label (“overweight”, “obese”, “anorexic”, “bulimic”, “cognitively impaired”, etc.)  it will be easier to gain access to needed support and treatment. With the way our health insurance industry works, they’re probably right; no one gets treatment for anything (and expects to have their insurance company pay out) without a diagnostic label. At the university where I work, a student needs to provide proof (a diagnostic label from a medical professional) that s/he has a disability in order to access the accommodations available to her/him. Of course I can see how that’s a necessary way to prevent other students from misusing resources.

But labels can be harmful — leading to bullying, teasing, and stigmatization. Or, at the very least, labels can stick to us and even grow into us so that we become one with them. I am thinking of a student I once counseled who was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and was told by family and friends whenever he felt anything negative that he was “just depressed”. He continued (10 years later) to think of himself as “depressed”. After two months of spinning our wheels in therapy and making no real progress, I finally realized that he wasn’t going to make progress until he recognized that his depression was not who he was; it was an illness that had descended upon him at some point and it was something he could learn to gain some control over rather than have it control, and even define, him. We worked together to “externalize” his depression and he made great strides the rest of the semester.

So, what happens when we label ourselves as “anorexic”, “bulimic”, or “eating disordered”? How long does it take before the label becomes one of our sole identities? If you have been labeled something by the medical or psychological community, I encourage you to take what information and help that you can from that label but not embrace it as the sum total of who you are. I don’t think I would be where I am today had I not recognized (with the help of some wonderful people) that I am not forever doomed to be “eating disordered”. There are many elements to my identity. Having once struggled with disordered eating is just one of the challenges I have faced.

Peace, joy, and health.

–Megan

Endings

In her book, Kitchen Table Wisdom, Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen writes, “Nothing ever ends without something else beginning or begins without something else ending…beginnings and endings are always right up against each other.” As I finish out the spring semester of my counseling job on a college campus, I find myself faced with my own endings and new beginnings. I’ve said goodbye to the seniors I counseled this semester even as I anticipate the beginnings I’ll have with new clients next semester. I’ve put the finishing touches on a mosaic art piece and am now faced with the question of what art project to begin next. And, perhaps most importantly, I’ve decided to go back to counseling this summer so I can begin to put an end to some negative, anxious thinking that holds me back from achieving what I believe to be my potential.

Others in my life are facing endings and beginnings: the end of addiction and beginning of recovery; the end of distorted body image and beginning of body acceptance; the end of binge-eating and beginning of mindful eating; the end of isolation and the beginning of reconnection with friends and family who care.

If we zoom in and focus only on endings, it’s easy to feel discouraged. But Dr. Remen’s words remind me to take a step back, open my eyes wider and look around for the possibility of a new beginning just over the horizon. That doesn’t mean that we skip over the grieving that comes with any ending. Grieving is natural and sharing our feelings about endings is healthy. But it means that there is hope. If there’s one thing I pray for every day in my work with clients, it’s the ability to be an instrument of peace — one who can instill hope where there was once despair.

What endings are you facing? Are there new beginnings on the horizon, just waiting to be noticed?

Peace, hope, and health.

–Megan

Keeping Secrets vs. Setting Boundaries

I’m not sure why this is on my mind at the moment, but I want to talk about the difference between keeping a secret and setting a healthy boundary by not telling all. Perhaps it’s because of my counseling work with others, or a conversation I had with my mom yesterday, or just because I used to keep my disordered eating habits a secret.

So, here are some thoughts that come to mind when I hear the word secret: A secret is specific. It’s something few others know. As such, it’s something I can use to manipulate others (if I so choose). A secret gives me some power over someone. Holding a secret puts me in control of something. Keeping a secret can lead to lying to people I love. A secret can also bring with it shame, embarrassment, fear, or discomfort. Keeping a secret for a really long time can be unhealthy and lead to physical ailments. I know all of this because I have held secrets in my lifetime. At this point, there are others on the planet who know all of my former secrets. However, who I chose to tell what secrets was part of learning how to set boundaries.

So, when I hear the phrase “setting boundaries”, I think of the following: Boundaries are similar to limits. They are my personal comfort zone. Boundaries are lines in the sand. They are not walls. I can choose to erase them and move them. As lines in the sand, they are sometimes hard for others to see, so I need to clearly communicate to others what my boundaries are. I can do that by sharing my feelings and needs: “I feel frustrated that when I share my problems you want to come up with a quick fix solution. I really just need you to offer your support by listening and encouraging me.” Boundaries include things like not telling everyone everything, saying “no” when asked to do something you don’t want to do, and not letting others define you or direct your life. Boundaries are healthy.

Sharing my secrets — including that I was desperately struggling with binge-eating — with a select supportive few people in my life helped me edge further away from the black and white, all or nothing thinking that I am so prone to. It helped me recognize from whom I could get the most support and understand that it doesn’t have to be either/or. I didn’t have to hide everything from everyone. Nor did I have to share everything with everyone. Setting healthy boundaries was difficult for me to learn. In the beginning, I either let someone in completely or held them at arm’s length.

I want to encourage all my readers to find someone (maybe a counselor to start) to share your secrets with. Counselors are ethically responsible to maintain confidentiality (with a few important limitations aimed to keep you and others physically safe). The great thing about sharing a secret with a counselor is that it’s no longer something that no one on the planet but you knows about. Counselors can also help you identify areas where you struggle to set boundaries with people. As counterintuitive as it seems, setting boundaries goes a long way towards increasing the intimacy and closeness of relationships.

Just some food for thought today.

Peace,

Megan

Learning to Laugh

For as long as I have known myself, I have been a serious person. My mom recounts in my baby book that one morning when I was a little girl, she found me laying on the floor of the living room face up with my legs straight and my hands folded on my stomach and my eyes closed. When she inquired what I was doing I apparently told her I was trying to find out what it was like to be dead. Yep. A serious soul.

I’ve been labeled many other things that seem to go along with being serious: studious, introspective, organized, hard-working, dependable. And I can’t count the number of times that I’ve heard people say, “You’re too serious!” or “Don’t be so serious!” or “Lighten up!” or “Can’t you take a joke?” I often struggle to understand jokes when they’re told and rarely know when someone is being facetious. I would occasionally miss out on cues from my peers that I was being teased or made fun of. I just look at the world through the lens of seriousness. It’s as if my brain is wired to notice the powerless, to empathize with the struggling, and be sensitive to the hard work of being human.

However, I have learned through my recovery from Binge-Eating Disorder that there is such release, such freedom, such power in learning to laugh. So, I’ve embraced that idea and am trying to laugh at myself more often. It makes the perfectionist in me bristle, but it’s so helpful!

Just yesterday I laughed out loud with my boss when I shared my tendency to jump to the catastrophic conclusion that if one person on the planet is angry at me, doesn’t like me, or shares his/her disappointment in me then I am totally unlikeable. I can laugh about that one now that I realize it’s completely untrue.

Then there was this morning in my group workout at the gym when the instructor started doing a move in which we were to raise our arms to the sky, bend down and touch our knees and then bend further and touch the floor, then reverse it. The child in me must have gotten excited because I started doing “head and shoulders, knees and toes” like I was in preschool again while the rest of the class continued with their “proper” way of doing it. After a few reps, I realized my mistake and laughed out loud as the sweat poured off me. I had an even bigger laugh about it in the car on the way home.

Yes, it feels SO good to laugh…at my mistakes, at the things life throws at me, at my character flaws. It’s even better when I can share that laugh with a friend.

How long has it been since you’ve laughed at yourself? Next time something doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, or you recognize some previously hidden truth about yourself, go ahead and laugh. Don’t just type “LOL”. Actually DO it.

Peace, laughter, and health,

Megan

 

Picking up the Pieces After Emotional Eating

I feel compelled to share — because I know it will help me to write about it and may help some of my readers to know — that I came home today after a stressful day at work and went straight to the kitchen (instead of my “toolbox” of self-soothing techniques like reading, writing, going for a walk, petting my kitties, etc.). I had barely put my things down before I opened the cabinet and got out the ingredients to make myself a not-so-healthy snack, knowing full well that I was not hungry and that I was eating for emotional reasons.

Here’s the most wonderful part about it (and I say this in all seriousness): I do not feel guilty about it. I called my partner downstairs to the kitchen and sat with him and recounted my day as I ate my snack — I even shared some of the food with him. It felt good to consume comfort food as I vented about the stress of the day. I can look at it objectively and say to myself, 1) I portioned out the food; 2) I shared the experience with someone who knows me and loves me for who I am; 3) I recounted the experience to my parents, who are super supportive; and 4) it’s okay for me to occasionally eat for emotional reasons instead of physical hunger.

In the past, this kind of episode of emotional eating would lead to a barrage of negative self-talk: “You shouldn’t have done that…You’re a complete failure…You should just binge the rest of the night and start over tomorrow with a clean slate.” Now, I’m able to say, “I was aware of what I was doing. I chose a snack that I knew would comfort me. It served its purpose. I shared the experience with others who love me and there’s no shame in any of it.”

Wow. This time, it was somehow easy to pick up the pieces after emotional eating. How do you, my readers, do that? Do you give yourself credit for small successes, like stopping a binge once you’ve started one or for bingeing but not purging or for journaling about your binges and just becoming aware of your triggers? All of these small successes need to be recognized. They count! Consider starting a list of your own small successes on your journey to get out of B.E.D.

Peace, joy, and health.

–Megan

The D Word

It’s Friday the 13th and tonight I’ve got the D word on my mind. That’s right: Diet. Today at work I was talking to a colleague who gave me a sample of her carb-free pancakes (bananas, almond butter, and eggs…delicious!) and told me about something called The Paleo Diet, which I had heard of in the past year. I listened with rapt attention, genuinely curious about the diet in which one tries to eat like our ancient ancestors did: whole foods like fruits, veggies, and lean proteins. Few, if any, dairy or cereal grains like wheat and corn and no processed foods. My co-worker talked about the benefits she has experienced from adopting this diet (it seems more like a total nutrition makeover) and I told her, quite frankly, that I don’t like the word “diet” and that any food plan that requires me to avoid certain foods worries me, since I once had a long list of “forbidden foods”. They were so troubling to me and such a huge part of my binge cycle that I chronicled them in my book.

For some reason, though, I’ve been thinking about the D word, and The Paleo Diet in particular, all day. I went to the gym after work and was then craving (no doubt influenced by my co-worker’s pancakes) a peanut butter, banana, soy milk smoothie, so that’s what I made myself for dinner. It was delicious and wholly satisfying. BUT…this little (familiar and annoying) voice inside me whispered, “On the Paleo Diet you wouldn’t be able to make this smoothie with soy milk”. I ignored the voice and drank my smoothie happily. The voice continued: “You could just try this diet for a few days. Like a challenge. See if you could do it.” I distracted myself by turning on the TV to watch the baseball game. My team was already losing 3-1. The voice persisted: “Seriously. Just buy the book, or at least borrow it from someone and see what it has to say. There’s no harm in learning about it.” I grabbed a cat (I have five to choose from), plopped her in my lap and started petting her while doing my deep breathing exercises. I could feel my anxiety growing. This is supposed to be my night off and my inner critic was trying to take control. It was the last straw when I heard the voice say, “You know, you really shouldn’t have eaten that smoothie. It has so many carbs and calories. You’re gonna get fat.”

THAT’S IT! I’VE HAD IT. I ran upstairs and began sharing this story as soon as I could. I know that writing is my salvation whenever I’m ruminating on something. You’ve heard me talk before about the power of writing. So, I’ve now calmed myself down and am able to be realistic and healthy again. Here are the facts (not what my inner critic would have me believe):

I have gotten to the point where I can tune in to what my body needs and wants, nutritionally. When it craves red meat, I feed it (and mindfully enjoy eating) red meat. When my body craves yogurt or cheese, I feed it yogurt or cheese. When I crave dark chocolate, I feed it dark chocolate. My body daily craves vegetables and fruit and lean proteins. Whenever possible, I listen to my body’s cues. It really doesn’t steer me wrong. And just like tonight, when I felt a real physical satisfaction of my craving (likely for potassium & protein), my body felt at peace. So, I do not need to try a new diet. I am healthy, have good energy levels and I listen to what my body needs. And that is what’s best for me.

Peace, joy, and freedom from the D word,

Megan

Honoring your body

As a college counselor I work with several dozen students each semester. This semester, about two thirds of the individuals I’m working with have expressed some amount of body dissatisfaction, be it general dislike of their overall shape, specific hatred for a particular body part, or dissatisfaction with their weight.  Years ago, I was right there with them. Occasionally, I still do have days when my eyes settle on a particular body part and I think, “Will I never look different in this area?” My healthy, recovered self chimes in with, “Nope. You probably won’t. But you’re doing what you can each day to be healthy and that’s important.”

As far as I can tell, Western cultures still value beauty over health, but there’s a subtle and insidious shift occuring. Women and men are encouraged to live healthier, to be more active, to eat fewer carbs and fats, to aspire to the new ideal body type: lean and muscular. At first glance this ideal seems perfectly fine. What’s wrong with trying to be lean and muscular? When you look more closely, however, you begin to realize that chasing any ideal instead of honoring the needs of our individual (and very different) bodies is unhealthy. Why should…no, how could…anyone, anywhere tell us what our own body needs in terms of percent body fat and nutrients and amount of physical activity?

The idea of honoring my body is on my mind today because I had a nasty stomach bug two days ago that left me feeling physically drained. I was feeling pretty much back to normal this morning so I went to the gym and joined one of the workout classes. About 15 minutes into it, I felt more fatigued than usual and took a short break to get some water while the class continued. One small voice in my head was annoyed that I couldn’t keep up with the pace of the class and a louder, healthier voice said, “Honor your body.” I’m thankful I listened to that voice. Yes, my body was ready for some physical activity today, but not at the level of intensity of the class. So I continued as best I could, checking in with myself and taking breaks as needed. This feels like a huge accomplishment; years ago I was in the habit of listening to that first voice…the one that said, “Your body wants to eat now, but you should definitely avoid everything you WANT to eat, because all of those foods are BAD for you.” That voice also told me, “You only exercised for 30 minutes today. How lazy are you?!” The same voice said, “You’re a failure for having eaten that brownie today. You should just eat a whole lot of junk for the rest of the day and start over tomorrow.”

Thankfully, I can now hear my body chiming in: “I’m craving protein and fat after that workout. How about a banana peanut butter smoothie?” Or “You only exercised 30 minutes today because you have been on the go all day. It’s okay to rest now.” And “Yay! A brownie! It’s great to satisfy a chocolate craving.”

I’m not really sure how I got to this point where I can listen to and honor my body’s needs. I think it began with being open to the possibility that the voice I heard so loudly (the critical voice) wasn’t the only voice inside of me. I recognized that there was a part of me that wanted me to be healthy, not just beautiful…let me say that again: There’s a part of you that wants you to be HEALTHY and NOT JUST BEAUTIFUL.

The members of the Health at Every Size community recognize that health is more important and more attainable than any societal ideal (be it thin or lean and muscular). I love what they write on their homepage:

“Health at Every Size is based on the simple premise that the best way to improve health is to honor your body. It supports people in adopting health habits for the sake of health and well-being (rather than weight control). Health at Every Size encourages:

• Accepting and respecting the natural diversity of body sizes and shapes.
• Eating in a flexible manner that values pleasure and honors internal cues of hunger, satiety, and appetite.
• Finding the joy in moving one’s body and becoming more physically vital.”

Acceptance, flexibility, and joy…now those are things I want in my life! Let’s try to spread the word about honoring our bodies’ needs and focus our efforts on promoting health instead of a beauty ideal.

Peace, joy, and health!

–Megan