It’s been a long time since I put my fingers on this keyboard to do more than just play games, zoom, or deal with unwanted junk mail. I think part of it is depression. It’s still there. The urge to do absolutely nothing. Blocking out that voice inside your head that gives great suggestions from getting up in the morning and showering to getting outside and going for a walk. I’m often the toddler, the one that just keeps saying NO, over and over, just to be defiant.
I made it through PHP, finally, then I tried IOP. Trying for me was zooming one night. I couldn’t do it. All the clients were under my daughters age. I’m not saying it was a bad program I’m just saying there weren’t any clients that I could relate to. They try to just say, “you are all dealing with the same thing” but are we really? I think the end game is all the same, or at least similar. The end game being the actual behaviors we choose to do, but how we get there is our own story. My story is over 40 years long. My why is my own. I’m not going to have too much in common with a thirteen year old except the fear of donuts and other carbs.
I’m 50, which is bad enough, but I’m 50 with an eating disorder. My writing prompt answer might be really different than someone who is 20 or even 30. A few weeks ago in PHP I was paired up with someone who was more my age and we came up with some positive refrains that were more age appropriate.
THEY ARE NOT ROLLS, THEY ARE WRINKLES
GRAND CHILDREN LIKE HUGGING CHUBBY GRANDMA’S
THE MORE MEAT ON MY HIPS THE LESS LIKELY I’LL BREAK ONE WHEN I FALL
GET OVER IT, YOU WON’T REMEMBER ANY OF THIS TOMORROW
All therapists have their list of writing prompts. My favorite, just kidding, it’s not at all, is
Write about a time that you liked your body.
The girls in IOP usually referenced some extracurricular activity such as soccer or dancing. Something that required a fit body. Often it’s the expectations of these activities that are linked to their ED.
I can’t even fathom a reason that I would have liked my body as a teen. I was a chubby kid. I didn’t wear dresses. I always hated spring and squeezing into my riding britches, feeling like sausage. Summer time I would wear an extra large t-shirt over my bathing suit.
My first year in college, I still hated my body but found someone who didn’t and he did whatever he wanted while I tried to get away. After that, I hated my body more.
Eventually, years later, my body served an amazing purpose. BABIES! I loved being pregnant. I loved the freedom that I felt knowing that for months I could relax and let my body do its job. Make a baby. I ate without worry. I stepped on a scale without hesitating, it was wonderful. Of course, I only had two kids and as great as it felt, I didn’t plan on being pregnant all my life. There’s no 19 and counting under my roof. Seriously, who wants to squeeze a melon out of your vagina that many times?
Another favorite prompt of therapists EVERYWHERE is
Make a list of your body parts and what they do for you
I guess my head is important, it does house my creative brain. To be able to keep and eye out on all the kids at recess, making sure they are six feet away, requires a strong neck. My shoulders and back can carry an overstuffed backpack that usually contains my lunch box, laptop, iPad, and a couple binders. To lazy to go up and down the stairs of my house requires my arms to be strong enough to hang three to four grocery bags off each. Cutting the circulation off to my hands which are great for petting my cat. I’ve got some cushion on my ass which helps sitting in those uncomfortable plastic chairs during staff meetings. My legs get me from place to place and my feet allow me to stand for hours at a time.
Notice I skipped my stomach? That is a part of my body that does not deserve any credit. I get it, there might be some good in it but I hate it. Hey, It’s a fact, the BTK killer loved his kids but people still hated him.
I do have one body part that I truly love. I even brag about it to friends, family and strangers. If I could take it out and show everyone I would. It would make a great pocket book (I don’t carry one of those, do we even call them that anymore?)
The award for the BEST BODY PART goes to, my BLADDER! It’s HUGE. It has to be. It’s not easy to sneak away from class to go empty it. Either you stretch it out or you risk the chance of dehydration.