Earlier today, Laura wrote that insight and eating disorders might be overrated . In many senses, she has a point. Often as a patient, therapists and treatment providers would ask me why they thought I was going downhill but made no real move to stop me from going downhill. "What's really bothering you?" they would ask me. "I dunno," I would say. I felt guilty about slacking off on exercise, so I tried to make up for lost time. I felt I ate too much, so I started cutting back. "No, no," they responded. "What's underneath that?" "Um...I dunno." And my task for the next week would be to figure out what was really going on. That, and try to cut back on the exercise.
Often, I had insight--or at least enough insight to start parroting back to my treatment team what they wanted to hear so they would stop asking me such asinine questions. Insight wasn't really my problem. I knew I had issues with depression and anxiety and perfectionism that was a big part of my eating disorder. I could talk to you at length about obsessions and compulsions and neurobiology and all of that. Still, I remained afraid of eating and entrenched in my eating disorder.
No amount of insight would have gotten me better. I wavered between extreme denial and anosognosia (I'm fine, there's nothing wrong) and pretty good insight. But insight is as insight does. I didn't stop being afraid of food until I was forced to eat 5-6 times every day, and do it over and over and over again. I'm still wary around food. But I'm not terrified of it. That wasn't insight. That was eating.
My insight often frustrated me. I knew that starving and overexercising and purging were ruining my health and making me miserable. Yet I also knew that stopping would make me more miserable. I knew that my symptoms were helping me deal with unbearable anxiety and depression. And what of it? I knew all of this, and I had been taught that this knowledge should have been enough. It wasn't. That's where I often got frustrated and gave up.
I'm not anti-insight, though. I think developing insight is a very important part of the recovery process. I haven't found much use in finding insight into why my ED developed--I know that I used my symptoms to self-medicate for anxiety and depression, and that explanation is fine for me. I know others have found such insight very useful, and that's great. What I have found insight very useful for is relapse prevention.
Eventually, I came to realize that very stressful situations--exam time at school, applying for jobs, moving, family issues--were major ED triggers. My brain could only cope with so many stressful things at once. Since recovery was stressful (and, in my eyes, often stupid and therefore optional), it was the first thing to get jettisoned. Enter relapse, stage left. It took me a long time--remember, I have a very thick skull, osteoporosis be damned--to realize that in these times of stress, when I felt that therapy and eating were the last things I had time for, therapy and eating needed to be at the top of my list. (I'm still not very good at this, to be honest.)
Now, with TNT, I'm working on developing insight into the depth of my negative self-talk. I often don't realize that I'm engaging in such self-hatred because it's such a part of my inner monologue that I don't think about it. And then developing insight to see the subtle ways it plays into my ED thinking. If I usually think of myself as a lazy pig, then it's not a hard leap to see how restricting food (negating the "pig" bit) and increasing exercise (negating the "lazy" bit) might make me feel better.
Of course, feeling like a lazy pig doesn't mean I am a lazy pig. I understand how that applies in other people, but I don't have much insight into why that wouldn't apply to me.
So yes, insight. It is useful, and it can be a good goal. But it often isn't enough to get someone over the initial hump of moving towards recovery. For me, it took having no other choice than to eat. Others have found different ways and different motivations. Insight can be a part of that, too. But I have found insight more useful later, after my thinking had cleared a bit, when I can look back at the craziness and be more rational about what the hell I had been thinking.