Recovery through Artwork

I recently came across a box of momentos from treatment that I thought was lost forever. I have memories of certain pieces of artwork I had done, collages, watercolors, etc. that I recalled as being extremely helpful to my recovery. But I haven't been able to find them.

I remember presenting them to my treatment team in sessions and hearing feedback. Important feedback that helped me use these pieces of art to move to my next step in recovery. 

My creative mind, my artistic mind was extremely helpful in my recovery because it allowed me to explore my inner world without limitations or rules. I could write poetry about my eating disorder, I could see caricatures within my family system, I could visualize certain aspects of my own emotional life. I could get them onto paper, in color, for others to help me witness, and unpack, the chaos in my mind. 

I haven't been able to find certain pieces that I was sure I created. Pieces that were extremely helpful to me. I figured they has gotten lost along the way. 

This morning, I went to sort through a box I thought was old dishes to see what could go to Goodwill and found an art gallery from the time I was in treatment. I remember creating each piece, every single detail, how each piece helped me articulate struggles when words wouldn't work. Each piece uncovered the next step in my treatment process. 

I remember the prompts for each Creative Representation...

June 2009: Do a Creative Representation of your eating disorder

One of my therapists pointed out that she'd never seen anyone use a toilet in their representations before. But at this point in my treatment, I really missed throwing up. Purging was a huge piece of my eating disorder and I dearly missed the ability, the freedom, the perceived control that I used to get from purging. I missed watching my emotions, my guilt, my shame be flushed away in a single action. Watching everything swirl away, my dear escape. 

In this representation, the quotes swirling away were my stream of consciousness, the thoughts I always perceived I was flushing away... the reasons I purged:

"Am I perfect now?"

"Failure"

"Fat"

"Ugly"

"Shame"

"Weakness"

"Am I perfect now?"

All swirling away and masked by the letters that spelled out "ESCAPE". My time with my head in the toilet was my escape. This representation helped me discover why purging was so attractive to me. It forced me to look at the behavior and articulate why it was there. It was my escape. It was a distraction. These emotions and questions, "am I perfect now?" that haunted me every second of everyday could be flushed, could be gone for the 30 seconds I spent with my head in the toilet. 

This awareness of the function of purging in my eating disorder gave me a new power, another step in the direction of recovery. I could begin to process the emotions, instead of needing to flush them away.

Self Care is a Lifestyle

This weekend accidentally became an exercise in radical self-care and it all began Friday morning.

Actually, it began with the start of September and the smell of fall. I seem to always get nostalgic, I always get a bit sad. I'm usually exhausted from a summer full of activities. And the autumn hits me hard. I know this. It hits every single year. I know myself well enough that I know how deeply the changing of the seasons affects me. I'm accustomed to the onset of depression as the seasons turn. There are so many reasons for this, but to articulate just one would do a disservice to the entire experience itself. I get depressed in the Fall. For that matter, I get depressed in the Spring too. It's a shift in seasons that I brace myself for, and this past week was no different.

However, I digress...

My weekend of self care officially began Friday morning, when the AQI in my rural mountain town, affected by wildfire smoke exceeded 250 ppm. This means the air is "Very Unhealthy" and beginning to be "Hazardous". I work outside as a landscaper during the summer and proclaimed a few months ago that my personal threshold for working outside in wildfire smoke would be 250ppm. 

I gathered my courage Friday morning as I rallied myself to call my foreman, and our business owner, to inform them I would not be coming in with the AQI so high and the air bordering on hazardous. The conversation was riddled with anger and guilt-trips from my higher ups. And among the guilt trips, my voice, loud and clear standing up for myself and maintaining my boundaries.

The truth is, I probably could have gone to work that day. I could have bundled my face up into an N95 or respirator and went about business as usual. But recently, I've made a vow to myself to re-parent, or parent, myself. Instead of just doing what is expected of me, I have begun asking myself, "What would you do if it was your child?" And I wouldn't have let my child go to work outside that day. No way. 

I could've made an exception, just this once. But then I could continue to make exceptions for the rest of the summer, the rest of a hazardous wildfire season. I made a promise to myself, my coworkers, and my supervisors that I would not be coming in to work if the AQI is above 250. And I stuck to it.

I felt lost on Friday. I was supposed to be at work, but I was choosing to take care of myself instead. I felt GUILTY. I felt guilty for taking care of myself and for letting my crew down. I felt guilty for allowing the hazardous air to bother me. I felt vulnerable and ashamed for not ignoring my needs.

But alongside the guilt, I continued to re-parent myself. I spend the day inside, cleaning, reading, relaxing. Occasionally I would look outside and the thick grey haze would remind me why I was indoors that day. The guilt began to dissipate. I stopped having to look outside to remind myself that it was hazardous to be out there. This thread of self-care began to weave itself through my entire being. 

Throughout the weekend, I have engaged in many more acts of self care that I have been procrastinating on or outright neglecting all summer. This neglect has left me burnt-out, exhausted, mentally fatigued, and creatively stalled.

I began asking myself many questions about self-care. Why do I feel guilty? Why am I making excuses for why I'm listening to my needs and taking care of them? Where is the line between self-care and self-indulgence?

There isn't a line. There isn't a line, because they are not the same thing. I feel like I live my life in a society where any pause, any stall, any minute that isn't filled with busy-ness is unacceptable. We live in a world where self care conjures an image of someone with a glass of champagne in a bubble bath, usually accepting that this is a very rare occasion. And that this is self care. 

The truth, I'm learning, is that self care is a lifestyle. A daily mindfulness, a commitment to listen to our needs and do our best to take care of them. Self care looks different for everyone. For me, I know what makes me feel good everyday and I do it. This means a delicious cup of coffee in the morning, a few minutes to play word games on my phone before work, a couple minutes a day of journaling, talking with my friends or significant other about my day and my emotional state, speaking up for myself in situations where I need to be my own advocate. Self-care is not a bubble bath, self-care is a lifestyle.

Back to the changing of the seasons... 

I've noticed my depression, lack of motivation, setting in in the past couple weeks and I can attribute it to the changing of the seasons. This weekend I committed to myself and my needs. I took time to do extensive journaling. I read an entire book. I painted my nails. I hung out with friends. I went to places and events I wanted to, and skipped a few because I didn't feel like going. I feel refreshed, recharged, aligned with myself, and inspired. 

Over the weekend, I felt self-indulgent at times, and instead of creating excuses for my perceived self-indulgence, I reminded myself that I do not require excuses. My lifestyle of self-care, of listening to my needs, of knowing what I need to feel good and maintain my sanity is not self indulgent. The habits that I've created for myself to feel joy and be present in my life are not self indulgent- they are a lifestyle.