Fast forward exactly one year later from the day I relapsed at the festival, and my phone rang with different news. The editor of LEFAIR magazine called to inform me I would be interviewing an eating disorder specialist for my upcoming article I was writing titled “Our Society Has An Eating Disorder”. I enthusiastically agreed, but hung up the phone like the Grinch on Christmas day. Not wanting to have to change what I had already written, I reluctantly but willingly scheduled a time to meet with her.
It took me six months to miraculously claw my way out of the dark hole I had created a year ago, but I was still covered in dirt. I wasn’t bulimic or eating more in one sitting than a quarterback eats in an entire day, but my thoughts about food and looking at what I perceived as imperfections of my body, were about 100 times more frequent than the amount of times I go to the bathroom when I’m on a cleanse. Regardless, I thought I could figure it all out on my own until my interview turned into an intervention.
I felt about as prepared to interview her as I did taking the practice ACTs, where I randomly selected letters because I wasn’t having any of it. To be honest, I don’t really remember the questions I asked. I do however remember what came about as a result of meeting with her.
The door opened and I was immediately greeted by an old Boston Terrier with one cloudy eye. Standing tall by the side of the dog was Allie, the therapist. With her blonde beach wavy hair, and slender body, it looked like she should be featured in the next Target ad pretending to have fun with children. I nervously said hello and took a seat on her faux leather couch. Not long after we began to talk I told her about having relapsed shortly after arriving to California. I tried to make it seem as though I now had no problems with food, overeating, or my body image, but there was no fooling her.
“You know you wouldn’t have relapsed if you truly healed, right?” Her glasses were the only thing that stood between us as she spoke.
I forgot what my response was, but from how the she continued, I know I agreed.
“Look, I’m totally booked and am not looking to take on any new clients, but I feel like this happened too serendipitously, and I have to see you.”
“Damn it, she’s totally right.” I thought as I became aware of the work I was about to endeavor.
Long story long, here I am, doing the work, and ready to ride this out.
Journal entry after my first session: ” As much as I don’t want to admit this to myself, the reason I’m seeing Allie is because I’m not in alignment with who I truly am. My mind body and soul are not working in harmony with one another, and she made that clear to me by informing me about something that I like to call “The Loop” When one is not in alignment with their true self, soul, whatever you want to call it, they go through a cycle between the persecutor, victim, and rescuer.
The Persecutor is our fundamental limiting beliefs, that we may not even be aware of, such as “I’m not good enough”, “I’m not lovable”, etc. Then, the place where I’ve discovered (Rather Allie told me) I tend to reside, is The Victim, which stems from our limiting beliefs. “I can’t”, “Oh woe is me”, “something is wrong with me” and so forth. We then inevitably go to The Rescuer. We need something to take us away and relieve us from the stress The Persecutor and Victim are putting us through, and rescue ourselves by using other people, drugs, alcohol, social media, or, you guessed it, food. Until I heal myself, and change my beliefs and patterns, the loop will continue or come back when the going gets rough. The weird thing is I know I’m not those limiting beliefs, yet my brain is wired to believe it as truth. I don’t know how one goes about changing for good, but I guess I’ll find out. ”
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Brooke Lyn Landon 