Power and competency

One of the reasons an eating disorder is so appealing is because it makes the affected individual feel unique, it gives them something that belongs to them and no one else. It's yours.

My eating disorder was my baby. It was my best friend. It knew me better than anyone, and I knew it- inside and out. My eating disorder made me feel powerful, competent, and in control. Little did I know, at the time, the behaviors are an illusion of control. The behaviors are an illusion of power. I am wildly out of control while the beast in my head is controlling everything.

At this point in my recovery, I'm actively trying to engage in activities that I know make me feel competent and powerful. 

Power is the ability to do something of quality. Competence is the ability to do something successfully. My eating disorder, in many ways, made me feel both of these. Lately I've been noticing other experiences in my life that make me feel powerful and competent. They include:

Knitting! 

Knitting has a calming effect on me. I can follow a pattern (which makes me feel competent), I figure out new stitches (which makes me feel powerful), I finish hats, gloves, scarves, cozies quickly (that makes me feel accomplished), and I give these knit items to people who I love (which connects me with others). 

Mountain biking!

I ride the same trails frequently enough that I can feel my skills improving as the season goes on. Who knew riding bikes over rocks would be so fun and so empowering? I see a field of rocks or roots ahead of me, and have confidence in myself that I can roll my bike right through it. When I am still on top of my bike, after cruising through the rock garden, I am overwhelmed with pride and a sense of accomplishment. When I am out on the trails, I say "hi" to other riders, I am polite to hikers, often stopping to have conversations with them. This connects me with people and I always leave these conversations smiling, hoping the other outdoor enthusiast is smiling as well. This gives me the sense of connection that the eating disorder tried to take away. I set tangible goals while riding my bike. "I'm going to try to ride that one rock garden I've never ridden before." I accomplish them, and it feels so good. I feel powerful, competent. Real.

Tap dancing! 

Tapping takes a ton of focus. It takes so much focus, I can't think of anything else while tap dancing. This is the kind of escape the eating disorder used to give me, yet tap dancing is a real, healthy behavior. A way to go into my escape zone, without turning to self-destruction. Here's the part that's intriguing to me: Tap dancing was always something my sister was the best at. It was my sister's. Soccer was my sister's, dance classes were my sister's. Growing up I felt like I didn't have anything I excelled at that I could call my own. Enter an eating disorder. Taking a tap dancing class, realizing, and saying out loud, "I'm really good at tap dancing," has been really hard for me because I feel like I'm entering back into sibling-rivalry-land. I calm myself, reassure myself, and remind myself that I can excel at something without having to compete with my sister. I can allow myself to be good at tap dancing. I can reclaim dancing as something that is mine. Every time I claim something as part of my identity, the eating disorder becomes less and less of my identity. I no longer rely on it for my identity. I learn a new step, add to an old step, make progress, feel my body execute the dance step, and feel a sense of power and accomplishment. 

These are things that I can be proud of. This pride is more than I ever felt standing a scale as numbers dropped. Because this is real.Holding something I knit, made myself, is real. Rolling my bike over challenging obstacles is real. Hearing my feet execute a new dance step is real. In the last few months I've realized how important it is that I surround and keep myself busy with activities that give me a sense of power, pride, accomplishment, and competence.