Eating disorders are about control. How many times have I heard that phrase? Gazillions. Literally, it spews forth from every last expert, biography, self help book, website, chat room and forum. There are very few times you’ll hear someone say “Oh yes, eating disorders…” without following up with “…are about control”. And every time I hear this, I think, well yeah , duh of course they are.
Therapy was a lot like that for me. One therapist presented me with numerous facts, and diagrams, and me being the unholy pain in the ass that I am, my reaction was generally a toned down version of: “Yeah, and? People got paid to work that out?” I found it pretty tough to believe that the world’s leading experts had studied ED’s for decades, and the best they could come up with was a five box flow chart. One that I, or any ED sufferer with half a brain, could have told you in about 3 minutes. Not that I’m an intellectual whizz kid, but seriously? It doesn’t take Einstein to be able to work out the process
Restricting food= extreme hunger
Extreme hunger = binging
Binging = loss of control and guilt = restricting food
The key point which I missed, or should I say sidestepped deliberately in an attempt to avoid getting any of those nasty complicated emotions involved, was the part where I applied this logic to me. Where I looked for examples in my own life that fit this vicious circle quite aptly. It’s so much easier to step back and say “Yes I understand, but isn’t that just common sense?”, than to slow your thought process down enough to rationally think about your own predicament. It’s a control thing. Whilst you sit on the side of the table and ridicule the diagrams as simple and obvious, you don’t have to admit that you are, in fact, simple and obvious in your behaviour. Like it or not, you are so predictable, that they can sum you up in a five box flow chart. I wasn’t much up for being “sick”. When I started Interpersonal Psychotherapy, one of the first things which is established, is that you are put very much in “The sick role”. I played the role begrudgingly, a large amount of the time I think I believed myself to be “just humouring” my therapist. Hmm Silly Doctors, what do they know eh?
I have a strong suspicion that I only ventured into therapy for Bulimia, to get control over my eating, and then if I’m brutally honest, my plan was always to cut back and lose weight again. That desire waxed and waned, as did my awareness of it, but yes that probably was my long term objective. It was again about control. I craved control over eating and food and weight. I craved control over how others perceived me, and how I perceived myself. By “theorising” everything, I remained aloof and in control of my emotions. The concept of being ill never even touched the raw bit inside, the bit that loathed how out of control my binging was.
Mostly people attach the concept of control to the weight and food issue with ED’s. As I begin to recover, I notice just how important control is to me, in everything. It is pivotal for sustaining my ED, and certainly hikes up the anxiety levels to fever pitch. I’m sure the experts would have a lovely flow chart for that, but again it’s common sense in my mind.
Lack of control = anxiety (everything seems complicated and too much)
Deal with anxiety = order and routine (reduce the choices reduce the anxiety and feel safe)
**BUT LIFE IS NOT ORDERED, IT IS UNPREDICTABLE**
Routine is threatened = social withdrawal (avoid the nasty chaos)
Social withdrawal = depression and anxiety (loneliness and self criticism)
Depression and anxiety = more dependence on order and routine and feeling safe.
More vicious circles here, don’t ya think?
I notice that the more anxious I get, the sneakier the obsessive streak becomes. It’s like an icing bag or an uncooked sausage. If I clamp down on one behaviour, then it just comes rushing out in another. Brimming out over the top and running down into other daily activities. It takes a near constant vigilance to override all the comfortable actions. Even now I am eating properly, frequently and adequately, I have still found those weasely little routines and rules creeping back in. Using the same cutlery every day. Eating the same foods, at the same time, in the same way. There is a positive side to this though. It’s a pretty good warning signal. If I find myself reorganising my desk drawer so that the pens are in colour order, I can be pretty sure that I ate breakfast from the same bowl, at the same time, in the same place. Probably in the same number of bites. I’m trying to implement an early warning system in my head, watching for signs of impending craziness. I just hope that it doesn’t become another obsession…..
The more I give into it, the more it breeds too. The more I am drawn to doing things in the same order, lining up the shoes in the cupboard, or setting the alarm clock at the same time. It soothes the anxiety, until of course something unpredictable happens, and then “Wham” big anxiety attack. Plus I begin to withdraw. I become less adventurous. Everything becomes an offshoot of this. I find myself dreading my own bodily rhythms and functions because they are beyond my control. That by the way was another reason I was a laxative user. Not for weight loss, we’ve covered why that’s crap (ha ha) but for control. I need control so much that I actually need to control when I go to the toilet. Another reason for starving? No periods. I get to control yet another feature of my unpredictable body. It’s why I can’t abide being ill, I panic, it’s the biggest loss of control there is. Control controls me, so much of my life is centred around an anxious dread of the unpredictable. I loath to stay at other people’s houses, because I can’t predict what will happen, or have no escape route. I can’t stick to my routines and rituals when I am submerged in other peoples territory. Socialising means extra, means plentiful, means disarray.
I suppose the obvious question is when and how did I become a control freak? I’m going to hazard a guess that I have been for a good long time, but depression masked it so well with Bulimia and chaos, that I just didn’t notice it. Or it showed itself in other forms. Passing fads, and phases, subjects that were all I could talk about for a few weeks, and then got discarded as boring.
I wasn’t always so inflexible. I was a chaotic and random teenager, with little use for control or interest in routine. I never cared where I woke up, or how I got home. I thrived on spontaneity. Maybe some people are just made to grow up this way, like I overdosed on chaos too young, and have tactically retreated into safety. I’m not convinced it has to be this way, but I have a feeling that even when I have won the battle for kicking an ED, the war for mental health will have only just begun.
Lola x
Eating disorders are about control. How many times have I heard that phrase? Gazillions. Literally, it spews forth from every last expert, biography, self help book, website, chat room and forum. There are very few times you’ll hear someone say “Oh yes, eating disorders…” without following up with “…are about control”. And every time I hear this, I think, well yeah , duh of course they are.
Therapy was a lot like that for me. One therapist presented me with numerous facts, and diagrams, and me being the unholy pain in the ass that I am, my reaction was generally a toned down version of: “Yeah, and? People got paid to work that out?” I found it pretty tough to believe that the world’s leading experts had studied ED’s for decades, and the best they could come up with was a five box flow chart. One that I, or any ED sufferer with half a brain, could have told you in about 3 minutes. Not that I’m an intellectual whizz kid, but seriously? It doesn’t take Einstein to be able to work out the process
The key point which I missed, or should I say sidestepped deliberately in an attempt to avoid getting any of those nasty complicated emotions involved, was the part where I applied this logic to me. Where I looked for examples in my own life that fit this vicious circle quite aptly. It’s so much easier to step back and say “Yes I understand, but isn’t that just common sense?”, than to slow your thought process down enough to rationally think about your own predicament. It’s a control thing. Whilst you sit on the side of the table and ridicule the diagrams as simple and obvious, you don’t have to admit that you are, in fact, simple and obvious in your behaviour. Like it or not, you are so predictable, that they can sum you up in a five box flow chart. I wasn’t much up for being “sick”. When I started Interpersonal Psychotherapy, one of the first things which is established, is that you are put very much in “The sick role”. I played the role begrudgingly, a large amount of the time I think I believed myself to be “just humouring” my therapist. Hmm Silly Doctors, what do they know eh?
I have a strong suspicion that I only ventured into therapy for Bulimia, to get control over my eating, and then if I’m brutally honest, my plan was always to cut back and lose weight again. That desire waxed and waned, as did my awareness of it, but yes that probably was my long term objective. It was again about control. I craved control over eating and food and weight. I craved control over how others perceived me, and how I perceived myself. By “theorising” everything, I remained aloof and in control of my emotions. The concept of being ill never even touched the raw bit inside, the bit that loathed how out of control my binging was.
Mostly people attach the concept of control to the weight and food issue with ED’s. As I begin to recover, I notice just how important control is to me, in everything. It is pivotal for sustaining my ED, and certainly hikes up the anxiety levels to fever pitch. I’m sure the experts would have a lovely flow chart for that, but again it’s common sense in my mind.
More vicious circles here, don’t ya think?
I notice that the more anxious I get, the sneakier the obsessive streak becomes. It’s like an icing bag or an uncooked sausage. If I clamp down on one behaviour, then it just comes rushing out in another. Brimming out over the top and running down into other daily activities. It takes a near constant vigilance to override all the comfortable actions. Even now I am eating properly, frequently and adequately, I have still found those weasely little routines and rules creeping back in. Using the same cutlery every day. Eating the same foods, at the same time, in the same way. There is a positive side to this though. It’s a pretty good warning signal. If I find myself reorganising my desk drawer so that the pens are in colour order, I can be pretty sure that I ate breakfast from the same bowl, at the same time, in the same place. Probably in the same number of bites. I’m trying to implement an early warning system in my head, watching for signs of impending craziness. I just hope that it doesn’t become another obsession…..
The more I give into it, the more it breeds too. The more I am drawn to doing things in the same order, lining up the shoes in the cupboard, or setting the alarm clock at the same time. It soothes the anxiety, until of course something unpredictable happens, and then “Wham” big anxiety attack. Plus I begin to withdraw. I become less adventurous. Everything becomes an offshoot of this. I find myself dreading my own bodily rhythms and functions because they are beyond my control. That by the way was another reason I was a laxative user. Not for weight loss, we’ve covered why that’s crap (ha ha) but for control. I need control so much that I actually need to control when I go to the toilet. Another reason for starving? No periods. I get to control yet another feature of my unpredictable body. It’s why I can’t abide being ill, I panic, it’s the biggest loss of control there is. Control controls me, so much of my life is centred around an anxious dread of the unpredictable. I loath to stay at other people’s houses, because I can’t predict what will happen, or have no escape route. I can’t stick to my routines and rituals when I am submerged in other peoples territory. Socialising means extra, means plentiful, means disarray.
I suppose the obvious question is when and how did I become a control freak? I’m going to hazard a guess that I have been for a good long time, but depression masked it so well with Bulimia and chaos, that I just didn’t notice it. Or it showed itself in other forms. Passing fads, and phases, subjects that were all I could talk about for a few weeks, and then got discarded as boring.
I wasn’t always so inflexible. I was a chaotic and random teenager, with little use for control or interest in routine. I never cared where I woke up, or how I got home. I thrived on spontaneity. Maybe some people are just made to grow up this way, like I overdosed on chaos too young, and have tactically retreated into safety. I’m not convinced it has to be this way, but I have a feeling that even when I have won the battle for kicking an ED, the war for mental health will have only just begun.
Lola x