Taking the Semester Off

I'm getting to the time where everyone is asking me why I am not back at school. It's not winter break any longer, although it certainly is winter here. And I'm getting asked questions that I usually have no idea how to answer. Things like, "Are you going to school somewhere else?" or "What are you going to do now that you're home?" or "Why aren't you at school?" And I usually respond with the generic, I'm just taking the semester off to figure out some life stuff and I'm going back to school in the fall. It's a perfectly reasonable explanation, I think, especially after the advice that one of my professors gave me: 

"It is difficult to answer people's questions. They never mean any harm by them, yet its very awkward when you don't want to talk about it. You'll have to come up with a short, very generic answer. It is important to remember that people take time off from college for a variety of reasons... A semester off is nothing. I know other students who took off for medical leave, but some just want a break for a while to figure out their path. That is really mature (and wise) to do. So often young adults just jump on the path they think is 'correct' by their parents, friend, or society without looking at all of the options. You get the luxury of looking at your options!"

So I personally think my answer is really good. But then, some people ask me the dreaded question of all questions... 

WHY?

And it's not that I want to lie to people--I am not a liar (if I was a liar, I would probably still be at school right now)--but I don't exactly know how to read people and judge how they'll react to me telling them the truth. For example, some of the elderly people at church, what would they think? EDs weren't really a thing back then, besides, everyone knows that they all gossip and talk to each other and I don't want anything I say to get misinterpreted and rumors to be spread and whatnot. And a lot of times, people will ask and it won't be an ideal time to share that information because they'll be other people around who I don't want to overhear what I'm saying or there won't be enough time for me to explain the entire situation because you can't just throw it out there that, hey, I've had an eating disorder for almost 7 years and that's why I'm taking time off of school. It doesn't really work like that. 

Also, like my mom told me the other day--it really is none of their business. She was referring to a situation where someone who our family barely knows was asking about why I was taking time off of school. My business is my business and no one else's. 

I do, however, pride myself on being open about my ED because I want to change the conversation we have in society about EDs and the stigma that surrounds them. I am totally okay with speaking freely about my struggles and my illness, but there is a time and a place for it. I know that, and I try to do what I am most comfortable with in the moment. If that means talking about it, then by all means, I will talk about it. But if that means shrugging off the question with a generic answer, then that is exactly what I will do and if people aren't okay with that, well, that's just too freaking bad because it is none of their damn business in the first place. 

I am not selfish for putting my recovery before my education,
my family, my future, and everything else.
Putting everything else on hold to recover is not selfish.
You are not selfish for taking time out to heal.

But there are ways in which I am willing to share what's really going on--through an email, through a text, through a one-on-one conversation where there are no interruptions. Because as easy as it is for me to say I'm taking the semester off, it's a really challenging feat for me, one that I struggle every day to accept, to embrace, and to not judge. 

Most people don't get that I just might not be 100% okay with what I'm doing right now when they ask these questions. And again, they don't mean any harm by them, I'm sure. But every time that I have to look at someone and say that to them, another piece of my heart breaks. 

I sent an email to a high school teacher of mine the other day, sharing a really cool video that I thought she would find useful in her classes. She emailed me back and asked me how school and life were going for me, and I was very open with her about everything. She responded saying: 

"I hope that you can rest in the fact that it is all right to be at home right now.  My youngest also had to take time out from college to get her bearings back, and during that time I know that 'being out' was really hard for her, even though it was the right thing to do.  Life is bigger than our plans, sometimes."

I want people to think a little bit more before they ask questions and pry into people's lives, especially if they do not know them very well. I want them to think about the timing and the location of their questions, especially with something like this. Anyone who knows me well knows that I love school, especially Gettysburg, and that I hate quitting something or not finishing something, so anyone who knows me would know that me being home right now is 1) not a normal behavior for me and 2) not something that I would opt to do on my own free will. I also think people need to be aware of the degree to which it is acceptable to pry into the life of another person in a particular situation. I'm completely okay with telling everyone, in any situation, that I am taking the semester off of school. It's the questions that follow that are not always timed the best, and I'm not always comfortable saying that I don't want to talk about it in that moment. 

And again, I know that people don't mean any harm or hurt to come of their questions, and that usually they are just curious or trying to make conversation, which is fine. I just wish that people would be more careful about when and where they choose to ask things and that they would recognize that this taking a semester off thing isn't as easy as it looks for me, that it pains me to be sitting at home and not in my dorm room or in class and that I'm not just taking a break from school--I'm trying to rewire my brain. And that, my friends, is not easy or simple. 

Christmas Eve.

I keep thinking back to last year, after the candlelight service at church, I was sitting downstairs watching some Christmas special with my family, writing a post reflecting on all of the growth that had taken place in my life that year.  I wrote about being recovered, feeling valued and beautiful and loved and worthy.  I wrote about being more than my past, about never being alone, about hope and healing.  I wrote about my complete faith in an all-powerful, healing, restoring God.

Christmas 2012 I was in a very different place than I was Christmas 2011.

And Christmas 2013 is no different. 

Tonight, I sit alone in my room, thinking.

Thinking about how my life has changed in the past year and has put me in a position that I never once thought that I would be in.  I dropped out of my first semester of my second year at college because I had a major relapse with my eating disorder, depression, and anxiety.  I took medical withdrawals from all but one course, in which I’m taking an incomplete and hope to finish up soon.  I’m taking the entire spring semester off from school.  I’m spending at least four hours a day in different kinds of therapy groups, with different psychologists and psychiatrists and doctors and nutritionists, trying to learn how to completely accept and manage life with an eating disorder, with depression, and with anxiety, trying to learn how to manage my life with this illness.

I never once thought that my life would go back to this, not even all those days I spent in treatment in high school, when I was so excited to go to college so that I could fully engage in my disorder and no one would notice.  I never once thought that things could get this bad again. I never once thought I would be in very intensive treatment again.

I never once thought that my life would do a complete 180 on me. But it has and that’s something that I’m just going to have to accept because even though I think that I've convinced myself that I've accepted this situation, I reach a moment where I get really pissed off about having been given these genes with this temperament and these personality traits and having been dealt this environment.  And then I’m back at square one, trying to accept it all just one more time.

But it’s never just one more time.

Looking back on my post from last Christmas, I can’t help but be a bit judgmental about where I am now and thinking that I’m in a worse place now than I was then.

This Christmas Eve, I’m not thankful. I’m not filled with joy and hope and strength.  I’m not feeling encouraged or blessed.  This Christmas Eve, I am filled with anger and bitterness and resentment.  I’m filled with depression and loneliness and insecurity. I’m filled with anxiety and distress and worry.  I’m filled with shame and guilt and regret.  

I’m filled with questions like “Why me?” and “Will this ever be over?” and “Will I ever feel and live a ‘normal’ life?” I’m questioning what my next steps are, where I stand with my relationships with everyone in my life, and how my faith fits into this.  I’m filled with questions about what my life will look like next Christmas and the one after that.

And something that I've learned in the past five weeks of treatment is that all of this is okay. Having questions and doubts and emotions—it’s all okay. Even during Christmas, when the expectation is joy and peace and contentment. My emotions are real and I am allowed to feel them, even now. Even at Christmas.

I guess what I’m trying to get at is that things change. People change. Lives change. And things don’t always go how you expect them to go. You don’t always end up where you want to in life. Sometimes the unexpected is exactly what happens and sometimes you take a giant leap backwards.

All of that is okay.

It’s life. And life doesn't stop for anyone.

Not even at Christmas. 

I Feel Alone.

A few days ago, I watched a video about how even though we are the most connected to others than we have ever been--thanks to social media like Facebook, Twitter, Foursquare, YouTube, Tumblr, Pintrest, etc and things like smartphones and texting that make anyone easily accessible--we are more lonely than we have ever been. I've linked the video here: 

After watching it a third time, it still makes my head spin when I watch it, but it also makes so much sense if you really think about the message it contains. 

Today, I was sitting in church next to my dad and he had his arm around me, like he usually does every Sunday we're in church together.  I was surrounded by a sea of people, most of whom had watched me grow from a first grader into a college sophomore.  I was surrounded, essentially, entirely by my family. 

And I felt completely alone. 

Right before the service began, I had a conversation with a lifelong friend about all that has been happening in my life, if being home was being helpful, how I was feeling, and it ended, like all of these conversations do, with her saying something to the effect of 'Let me know if you ever need anything. I'm here for you, and I love you.' 

So many people have told me that recently. And I very well know that I am not, in fact, alone. I have friends here who have tried to get together with me, but I've just been too tired or just not wanted to be social. I've received letters and care packages from school friends. I've gotten daily texts from some of my closest friends. And on the rare occasions that I have ventured out into the real world, one that is not my house or treatment, I've spent a couple quality hours with people who have been in similar situations. 

But I still feel alone. 

I don't know if I would say that I feel 'lonely,' because I don't think that's what I'm feeling. Lonely to me means missing people you care about, and although I do miss Gettysburg friends and home friends and extended family, that's not what is consuming me. It's the feeling of isolation, of not being understood, of not being fully known or heard, of people just not 'getting' me. The feeling of being alone. 

I know this has to do with my depression and my eating disorder. The two of them are not mutually exclusive from each other--experts still cannot determine a causal relationship between the two things, just that they tend to be highly correlated. But both add to this feeling of alone-ness, or isolation if you will. 

So even in those moments where I am not physically isolating myself, in the moments where I am not letting my social anxiety win, in the moments where I am not actually alone, the feeling of isolation and alone-ness is still there and it feels more present than it does when I am physically alone. 

Maybe this feeling of isolation and alone-ness has to do with my lack of vulnerability in these social situations.  All morning I was answering questions of 'How's school?' 'Are you glad to have had some time off?' 'Are you looking forward to winter break?' as if nothing were wrong. As if, in fact, I was making the five hour trek back to Gettysburg to have one more week of classes, a week of finals, and then over a month off for winter break. Maybe I need to be more vulnerable. 

Or maybe it has to do with the idea that I'm not constantly surrounded by my friends or that I can walk to class and pass four of my closest friends along the way. Maybe it is actual loneliness because some of those who know me best are not present, here, with me. 

Maybe it has to do with my being an introvert and not feeling fulfilled and cared for in large group settings, like church or like family Thanksgiving. But even in the one-on-one contact that I've had with people where I've been vulnerable and open, I have still felt alone. 

But mostly, my feeling alone has to do with the illness. The fact that I suffer from anorexia and depression and anxiety and that person sitting next to me does not. Or that person sitting across the room, although he or she may also suffer from depression, he or she does not also have an eating disorder and anxiety. The fact that I, alone, am being attacked by this specific illness and this specific combination of comorbid conditions makes me feel alone. 

Our culture puts such an emphasis on individuality, and I've been reading about it all semester in social psychology and how different psychological phenomena are experienced differently in collectivist cultures. If I lived in such a culture, would I feel any less alone right now? Probably not. 

Eating disorders are very individualized. Every person who suffers from any type of eating disorder suffers differently. That's why treatment must be individualized to the person in order for it to be effective. My eating disorder is not the same as any of the other people sitting in DTP with me or anyone else who has gone through CCED or suffered with an ED. 

I feel alone because psychologically, I am alone right now. 

This is one of those posts that isn't going to be wrapped up all nice and pretty and topped with a bow. This feeling of alone-ness is not going to go away just by placing myself in a room full of people, or a small group of people that know me well, or even in a room full of people who 'get it.' Because I will still feel alone. No matter how many letters I receive, texts and emails I get, words of encouragement I am told--the feeling of being alone remains.

And in this moment, sitting with this alone-ness and the discomfort it brings is just going to be something that I have to do. 

And maybe, one day, it won't be here anymore. 

It's okay to quit

Three days ago, I was informed by my college that because I am taking medical leave for the rest of this semester that I could not return for Spring semester.  Three days ago, I was incredibly pissed off about it.  And three days ago, I was ready to end treatment, walk away from my health, and go back to school.  

Three days ago, I was ready to quit.

And then I found this post on Psychology Today which gives advice on when it's okay to quit.  The post contains these guidelines on when quitting is okay:

It's okay to quit...
...when you've gathered new information that makes the original plan unworkable;
...when the timing is wrong;
...when you thought you could do more than you can;
...when you're changing directions;
...when to keep going will deplete you of energy you need for something else;
...when you made a mistake;
...when quitting is the most compassionate thing you can do for yourself at the moment.

When I was growing up, my parents taught me not to be a quitter--that if you're going to start something, you better finish it.  You don't quit.  So making the decision to take a medical leave from school this semester--to quit for the rest of the semester--caused a lot of cognitive dissonance.  But reading that article made me think.  And it got me to thinking about my current situation and whether or not it was okay to quit a second time simply because a policy stated that I had to take next semester off from school as well. 

When you've gathered new information that makes the original plan unworkable...
Does not being able to return next semester make my original plan unworkable?  Originally, I planned for taking some time off of school, going through treatment, recovering, and returning to school for spring semester.  Well.  The spring semester thing was a little bit unreasonable.  Recovery from an eating disorder that has taken over six years of my life is not going to happen in two months.  That was an irrational part of my plan.

But now, because I cannot return to school in the spring, does that make taking time off, doing treatment, recovering, and returning to school unworkable?  No.  In fact, it is probably the wiser decision.  Because rushing through treatment and not achieving full recovery before returning back to school will just land me right back here in another year or two.

When the timing is wrong...
The timing for treatment and recovery will never be right.  I will never 'be ready for recovery.'  Actually, the timing is kind of perfect--I have a school willing to work with me, parents here to support me, and no major obligations in the foreseeable future.  The timing, no, is not perfect.  It throws off my four year college plan.  But the timing will never be perfect.  The only things that are wrong with the timing are things that ED wants to get in the way of my recovery. Otherwise, the timing is pretty dang perfect.

When you thought you could do more than you can... 
I'm going to apply this to a couple of different things.  First, finishing this semester at Gettysburg.  It was okay to quit there because I definitely was trying to do more than I was capable of in that situation.  I was in a severe relapse of my anorexia, depression, and anxiety--severe enough that I was not going to class or participating in any outside activities.  Quitting, or taking a medical leave, was exactly the right decision.

Second, quitting at trying to come back in the spring.  One of the reasons that I was given for not being allowed to return is that there is not enough time between now and then for me to show a prolonged period of stability, which is true.  As much as I and many others would like, the recovery process is not short and sweet.  It's not something that I will be able to rush through in a couple of weeks.  Thinking that I can achieve a point of stability and be ready to return in the spring is irrational.  Full recovery takes time.  And I know that if I returned in the spring without having achieved full recovery, although I may be fine for a while, I will eventually relapse.  It's appropriate to quit trying to return before I am ready.

When you're changing directions...
I am changing directions with my life.  I am going from a half-lived life of an eating disorder, regulated by food rules and calorie counting and routine, to a fulfilled life of walking in freedom.  My life is completely changing directions.  So it is okay to quit on school for a while in order to change the direction of my life.

When to keep going will deplete you of energy you need for something else...
Continuing on the path of putting my schooling ahead of my health would literally kill me.  It would allow my body to waste away because of anorexia.  All of the energy spent feeding my eating disorder is better spent absorbing knowledge, taking walks with friends, and living my life.  Continuing on the path of anorexia will deplete me of the energy I need to live.

When you make a mistake...
I did make a mistake.  My mistake was made back in high school when I choose not to buy into treatment and the idea that I had a problem.  My mistake was ignoring all of my team's advice on how to avoid relapse.  My mistake was thinking that I could do this on my own.  And my mistake definitely cost me a lot.  GPA.  Friends.  Experiences.  I made a mistake, so quitting right now is okay.  It is okay to go back, start at the beginning, and work to learn from that mistake so that I will not make it again.

When quitting is the most compassionate thing you can do for yourself at the moment...
When I first got the idea to write this post, I was thinking about the question, 'Is it okay to quit treatment because I can't come back to school next semester?'  When I started writing, that's what I was thinking.  But I've realized now that in the back of my mind, I've still be stuck on the idea of taking medical leave from, or quitting, school for the rest of this academic year.  In the back of my mind, that was still what a question that I had.  'Is quitting school temporarily the best thing for me?'

It's this part of the philosophy of quitting that strikes me the most.  Yesterday, I got into a car accident on my way to the doctor (everyone was fine--it was just a minor rear-ending because I wasn't paying attention on the off-ramp).  When I went to the doctor, she was concerned that my heart rate was so low after an accident, so she did an EKG, which showed bradycardia.  Basically, my heart is beating a lot slower than normal because it is having to work much harder.  It's a sign, in my case, of malnutrition.  It signals that my body is beginning to eat away at its own organs because its nutritional needs are not being met by actual food.  She told me that I was not allowed to have caffeine, do physical activity, or any other type of stimulant.  She also told me that it's probably best for me that I do not return to school in the spring because recovery takes a long time.

I know the physical complications of anorexia.  And I thought I was fine.  It's so easy to be wrapped up in the disorder and in fighting school policy to not look at what my body needs.  My physical body needs my attention.  My body needs nourishment.  My body needs treatment.  Quitting school for the rest of the year is definitely going to suck.  I'm going to hate not being there and not having my friends around.


But it's like the article said, it is okay to quit if: "Quitting is the most compassionate thing you can do for yourself at the moment."

And right now, for me, it is.

Roommate.

“Why am I so anxious? And then it hits me. I'm not anxious, I'm lonely. And I'm lonely in some horribly deep way and for a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be so lonely because it seems catastrophic - seeing the car just as it hits you.” 

(Augusten Burroughs)

Today, my new roommate moved in.  It's a big change.  I had just gotten used to spending the days by myself without Megan or anyone else in my room.  I had gotten used to being lonely.  

I was used to the late nights and late mornings. 

To an empty bed and an empty desk. 

To being able to walk around my room naked.

And now I have to share it again. 

With a stranger. 

This is scary.  

Honestly, what if she doesn't like me? 

What if I'm not a good roommate? 

What if I don't like her? 

What if she's not a good roommate? 

What if we fight? 

I don't even know her and I agreed to let her move in with me.

But I agreed.  I based my decision on my gut.  On how I felt after that first meeting.  And my gut is usually right.  This is just a change. 

A change of lifestyle. 

A change of living. 

A change of pace. 

Change is good. 

It makes us strong.

Breathe.  Pray.  Trust. 

God knows what He's doing. 

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” 

(Lao Tzu)

Same Old Things.

Going off to college, I thought that things would be different. I thought that I wouldn't have the same old struggles. I thought that life with my family would magically be better. I thought that I would know the purpose of my life.

Turns out I was wrong.

About all of it.

That's the thing about leaving one place and starting over new. What was in your mind stays with you. People, places, work...it all changes. But your thoughts stay.

And you change, when you leave. And you forget that when you come back, things are going to be exactly how you left them. Your family will have the same old problems. You will react in the same ways. And too easily, you slip back into the person you once were.

It's all too easy.

Why haven't I changed? I have. Why hasn't anything gotten better? It hasn't. I just haven't had to deal with it like this in a while.

So I forgot.

I forgot how I used to shut down and shut everyone out.
I forgot how I would numb myself to every emotion because it was just too difficult to deal with this.
I forgot how destructive I could be when I couldn't block any of this out.

It's time this changed.
Past time to let go.

And this letting go...

It's a process.

Resolving to Live a New, God-driven Life.

It's the New Year. The time when everyone is making New Year's Resolutions... vowing to lose weight, save money, be a better person. Well. I hate giving into peer pressure, but I have some resolutions to make. Although, I think that I will call them guidelines, because ultimately, I do not dictate who I am. God is in control. He might have a better plan for me. 

But here it is in no particular order: 

2013 New Year's Guidelines (Or things that I think I should be doing)

1. Put God first. 

2. Affirm myself. Find things that I like about myself and remind myself where I stand in God's eyes.

3. Surround myself with positive people and supports and get rid of those who aren't.

4. Recognize and respond to my needs. 

5. Nurture myself in ways that do not involve food or other people. 

6. Be more mindful. 

7. Learn yoga. 

8. Seek help when it is needed or before it is needed. 

9. Write more. 

10. Be active. 

11. Eat more veggies. 

12. Make someone else's day. 

13. Get out of bed. 

14. Make time to spend alone with Jesus. 

15. Make and keep a budget.

16. Catch negative self talk. 

17. Procrastinate less. 

18. Keep drama in perspective. 

19. Say no. 

20. Learn how to knit. 

21. Start a tradition. 

22. Take care of myself.

23. Live life in the present. 

24. Spend some time without technology. 

25. Enjoy nature more. 

26. Explore. 

27. Spend time with friends and really get to know them. 

28. Make a bucket list and start to accomplish it. 

29. Keep in touch with old friends. 

30. Be grateful. 

New Year, Same Hope: God Never Changes.

It is now officially 2013. 

What? I thought that 2012 just began! At least, that's what it seemed like to me. But hey, time is  one thing that consistently changes. That's one thing that I have definitely learned--life ALWAYS goes on. It doesn't matter what the issue is...death, depression, loss of friendship, whatever. It goes on. 

And it's not just the bad that time overcomes. It's the good, too. Good times will not last. The first blissful days of orientation and freedom only last until classes and real work begins. The feeling of acing an exam only lasts until you realize you have another in a few weeks. Reunion with old friends only lasts until they have to go back to school and you are left at home, alone. 

Time changes. Constantly. Every second, every minute... It counts. 

But here's the thing: GOD IS CONSTANT.

My God never changes. Ever. His LOVE is constant. His HOPE remains. He REIGNS forever. 

God does not care about time. He doesn't even measure it the same way that we do. 1000 years are like one day to God. So why do we make such a big fuss over the coming of the next year? 

It really does not matter. At all. 

Why do we wait until January 1 to make resolutions? 

The thing is: we have a new day every day of the year. We have a new beginning every day. A fresh start. 

So why wait? 

We can choose to change at any time during the year. We can vow to love more, to worship more, to seek the Lord more at any time. We can resolve to change every day, every hour, every minute. 

Resolutions bother me. I was watching New Year's Rocking Eve with my family tonight, and according to Facebook polls, the top five resolutions are: 

1. Lose weight. 

2. Get organized.

3. Spend less, save more.

4. Enjoy life to the fullest.

5. Stay fit and healthy.

Seriously, people? There is so much messed up in our world and we are focused on ourselves?! 

Personally, my resolution for 2013 is simply this: I resolve to let God change me and use me however that He wants. Because ultimately, He is in control of my life. He changes us. We do not change ourselves. 

God never changes. He is always in control. Of time. And of change. So 2013... Bring it on. My God NEVER changes. 

Happy New Year, everyone!