Thursday, April 4, 2013

Questions and My Answers

I have to admit I have been savoring the memories of the speech I gave a month ago for National Eating Disorders Awareness Week since I gave it.  The event was spectacular.  Better than I could have imagined or even hoped.  I felt comfortable in the spotlight, perhaps for the first time in my life.  It was natural and the best part was I was speaking from my heart.  Every thing I said was true and genuine.  I wish you all could have been there.  I wish even more that it was recorded, so that I could relive the experience without the fading capacity of my memory.

I want to focus my post not so much on the speech I prepared, but the questions I answered.  Several patients asked questions with the "Is it really possible?  Are you really recovered?" undertone.  While my story is unique in the fact that I truly am recovered, it is not impossible.  I tried to remind the patients, and their loved ones, that the road was hard, unbearably hard most of the time.  However, just because life is hard doesn't mean that there isn't a way to overcome.  One patient began her question saying, "I assume that you have to fight the urges to engage in eating disorder behavior every day, at every moment...."  I was confident when I said, "I wouldn't say I have urges.  More like thoughts that creep into my head.  Temptations.  But, I realize the cost of living in such fantasies."  It truly costs more to live in the eating disorder than it does to live life, no matter how pathetic it may seem.  This is key for anyone with an eating disorder to realize.

Another question came from a former patient regarding finding friends and the emotional pain that it takes.  This question reminded me of the introvert nature I have.  Especially after leaving treatment, social situations were a big trigger.  However, I knew that I needed friends.  Social support is key in recovery.  In response to her question I expressed a concept that I had learned from a former therapist: emotional intimacy.  Emotional Intimacy relies on three things: (1) honesty, (2) security, and (3) "the gift."  The first two are mostly self-explanatory.  However, "the gift" raised a few eyebrows when I mentioned it.  "The gift" refers to the genuine interest two people have in getting to know each other and wanting to be with the other; to disclose and divulge, to weep and to smile, to work and to play.  If even one of these criterion is not met, the person you are interested in becoming friends with is not worth your time.  Making friends can be a draining process, however it is important to know not to share yourself with just anybody.  Being selective in who you choose to be friends with is a secret that really shouldn't be kept from the world.  It is best for everyone's social, mental, and emotional health. 

There were many more questions, and it is a shame that I cannot remember them all.  The last one that I do remember was asked by a mother who was so brave.  Her question was perfect.  I was the only one on the panel who had experienced severe depression and therefore was the only one could relate and to and answer the question with honesty and earnestness.  After the presentation, she thanked me and I felt that she yearned for more: more interaction, more hope, and more assurance that her daughter could recover.  I will never be able to guarantee someone that their loved one will recover.  However, I do believe that I can offer a conditional guarantee:  If your loved one can visualize recovery, and you support him or her in his or her actions to achieve, then recovery is possible, if and only if you both are willing to fight like hell.

I am excited to work as a therapist once I graduate with my MSW (hopefully by 2015).  I once thought that I could never work with patients who have eating disorders.  However, I'm beginning to re-evaluate that thought.  When I entered the eating disorder unit in February, this time as an advocate instead of a patient, I had no remorse, no regrets, no urges, no jealousy.  I was not ashamed of my body.  I was not self-conscious.  I was proud.  I was empathetic.  I wanted to help.

Awareness for eating disorders is growing.  However, I recently wrote a policy analysis paper on eating disorder screenings in Virginia and was appalled to learn that eating disorders are still largely under-funded.  Here is what I wrote:

"One way to intervene and prevent the development of eating disorders for all genders, socioeconomic groups, age groups, and ethnicities in America is through research.  Research funding is scarce in relation to the number of Americans diagnosed with an eating disorder.  5.1 million Americans suffer from Alzheimer’s Disease.  This disease is allotted $450 million for research.  3.6 million Americans live with Autism.  $160 million go towards Autism research.  Nearly six times as many Americans suffer from an eating disorder as compared to Alzheimer’s Disease and almost ten times as many Americans suffer from an eating disorder as compared to Autism.  However, the amount of money allotted to eating disorder research is a mere $28 million.  In more practical terms, an average of $88 is given per Alzheimer’s patient for research.  For an individual with an eating disorder, he or she will receive $0.93 for research (NIH, 2013)."

Astounding.  I do no discredit the need for research for Autism or Alzheimer's, but I can't help but feel a little dismal when I hear that eating disorders are not given the same amount of attention, funding, or impact.  

Maybe I've found my niche.  Maybe I've found what I'm passionate about...