On Monday, in individual therapy, I went over my values cards. It’s pretty neat, you have a stack of like 100 values and you start by sorting them by “very important,” “sort of important,” and “not important”. Then you get rid of the sort of important and not important stacks. You take the very important stack and sort it into “problems,” “shoulds,” and I can’t remember the other stack. Then you discard the problems and shoulds and start over with the other stack sorting into “very important,” “sort of important,” and “not important.” There are more steps, but I don’t remember them all. Anyway, you get down to 7 most important values, then 5, then 3 core values, then your single most important value.
My 7 most important values are: (in no particular order)
My 3 core values are:
And my single most important value is love.
I think it’s good to know your values as they can act as a compass to guide your actions throughout the day. Am I working right now toward one of my values of family, friendship, growth, connection, love, discovery, or spirituality? If so, I’m probably on the right track. If not, I may need to reassess. And is my overarching direction in life moving me toward love? Love of others, love of nature, love of my Creator, love of myself, love of learning, love of growth? If not, I’m going the wrong way.
I was thinking this morning about checking out a local eating disorder support group, but then I began to wonder why I wanted to go. Was it because I want to work toward recovery again?
No, that wasn’t it.
I think my true motivation was that I feel so disconnected and isolated right now that I just wanted to connect with someone, in person, who gets it.
Then I wondered whether it was appropriate to attend a recovery-themed support group if you don’t actually want to recover.
I don’t know the answer to that.
I also began to wonder how I could find motivation to want to recover. Or whether I even want to want to recover.
I don’t know.
I considered this morning pursuing treatment again. Again, though, not because I wanted to recover. I miss the community feel of being in treatment. I miss the bubble of being consistently around others who understand what it’s like, who laugh at my morbid, ED-related jokes, who can relate to the fears and irrational thoughts.
Part of me feels guilty that I don’t want to recover because I feel like I’m “supposed to” recover. Like it’s the morally right thing to do, abd therefore I am morally wrong for not doing it. Not even that my actions are wrong, but that I myself am wrong.
Anyway, I should wrap this up. I’m in the chair at the dentist’s office and I want to publish this before he comes in.
I wrote this in my journal last night in bed.
I keep finding myself wondering if I can recover.
When I am living with my disorder, I am “stable”. When I try to recover, I lose all semblance of stability. I start feeling the all-encompassing self-hatred. I start having thoughts about jumping off buildings. I start trying to stab myself.
I can’t handle the level of all out hatred and loathing I have for myself. I don’t know what to do with it, other than to destroy myself.
The other day I wanted to slash my face and throat. I can’t stand to see myself in the mirror. The sight of myself makes me nauseous. I wish I could destroy the mirror.
I want to cut the fat off my body. Some days I don’t even care if I wouldn’t have any skin left after. I can’t possibly be more hideous than I am now. I can’t possibly hate myself more.
If I had a sharper knife, I could probably succeed at stabbing myself.
Luckily, just after that, I started talking to a friend and that helped me a lot. Sometimes what I need is just the opportunity to get outside of my own mind and connect with another person.