Tuesday, June 03, 2014
It's not a secret that I have been in therapy for an eating disorder for the past year and a half. Last week I hit my first real wall, the kind that makes you want to quit. I spent the week angry, for no reason I could connect with, and everything has been a little messy in my life.
Today, I went again even though I didn't want to. It was one of those days where nerves were raw and everything was getting under my skin, so adding therapy on top of it was like pouring salt in the wound. Well, it was and it wasn't.
We talked about the fact I didn't want to be there. I told her I was pretty much done with everything and everyone and that I just wanted answers so I could start to work on things because I was really tired of this self-discovery process. I talked about the fact that I still had no idea what had set me off in session last week (she told me I needed to focus on staying in the moment because what I had been doing wasn't working) but that whatever it was had carried over throughout my week. I told her that the only thing I could identify, even though it wasn't the whole story and didn't land exactly right, was that I planned because I could never count on anyone or anything in the present moment and if I planned, I could control the outcome.
So, that started the process of unraveling the truth. She offered up the following: Planning my life has been my safety net. I always worked meticulously to ensure that every little detail was worked out so I could know what was coming, but the problem is that it isn't working for me and that it is part of the problem. It stirs up emotions, and strong ones at that, because my pattern is to plan and if I don't plan, then what the hell else am I supposed to do? Planning has been my survival resource.
Ok. So that landed. I have started paying attention to my body's reaction to things, and this certainly resonated. So it leaves the question, what the hell else do I do?