My addiction to personal development started small, just like my issues with substance abuse. I didn’t think getting stoned on the weekends in high school would turn into a 13-year lifestyle of binge drinking and excess. In the same vein, I didn’t think that reading self-help books would lead to a three-year downward spiral of searching for “the best possible version of myself.”
The last two and a half years have been an emotional roller coaster. I moved to New York City, got sober, lost both of my grandmothers, and my mother was sick. I spent much of that time in denial about my depression. I subconsciously chose to stay busy in order to avoid processing the emotions that came along with those big life changes. I lived in “go mode”. Often prioritizing others’ needs. The more time I spent helping others, the less time I had to deal with my own emotions. While there’s nothing wrong with helping people, there’s something wrong with why I was so eager to help.
“Addiction is one of the most common experiences people will face, yet is still one of the taboo things to be discussed openly. Thank fuck for writer Tawny Lara, who speaks with an infectious candour that’d make Keith Richards blush. Lara contributes to the Huffington Post and is the founder of SobrieTea Party. Throughout her writing, Lara muses about her experiences regarding alcoholism, dating, anxiety, therapy, and more.“
Comfort zones…the enemy of most people in the self-help world. The way some people talk about comfort zones, you’d think they were akin to the plague. I’m going to do something bold here. I’m going to talk about the beautiful importance of staying inside your comfort zone. Yes, you read that correctly.
Over the last few months, I’ve compiled a list of “notes to self” in my phone while sitting on the subway. I wrote these reminders for my own sanity. They help me calm down when I feel a spiral of self-loathing coming on. This list isn’t always pretty, but it’s grounded in a reality that I’ve learned to accept. Call them mantras. Call them affirmations. Call them maybe.
I started seeing a therapist in August 2016 when I was 9 months sober. I was prepared to be Goldilocks and shop around, looking for the therapist that was juuuuuust right. I lucked out and found “the one” on my first try; I’ve seen her every Wednesday ever since.
The first 9 months of my sobriety, or as I like to call it, BT (before therapy), I talked about what I was going through to anyone who was willing to listen. That was usually my therapy-advocating roommate. She listened to me, gave excellent advice, and found graciaous ways to sneak in the whole “you should see a therapist” message. I’d get annoyed, then after the 100th time, it finally sunk in. I realized that my neuroses weren’t so cute after all. I felt like Carrie Bradshaw circa season two of Sex and the City.
Back in my fitness instructor days, my Instagram account proudly endorsed the #eatclean movement to the point of annoyance. I, like many other fitness professionals, thought that this hashtag would inspire people to make nutritious food choices. While it may have inspired some, I’m finally realizing that using phrases like “eat clean” could be down right insensitive and borderline damaging.
In case you missed my last post, I recently participated in Scare Your Soul, a challenge that encourages you to live outside of your comfort zone for 3 days. On day 1 & 2, I tackled my body image issues. I wanted day 3 to remain on the same body positivity path, but I was stumped as to how to go about it. My roomie / editor, Alisson, suggested that my third and final challenge should be eating processed foods for a day, every meal. I cringed and said “Nope. No way. There’s no way I can do that”. Then I realized that’s exactly what I needed to do. She encouraged me to do this because she thinks I’ve become a pretentious food snob (this is how we talk to each other, we’re very close) who only eats artisanal, organic, hipster foods. She suggested that maybe eating like I used to will remind me where I came from, and get me back in touch with my roots.
Feedback taken.
Challenge accepted. Let’s eat dirty.
There’s so much more to recover from than just substance abuse. Previously, Rose Lockinger has contributed personal essays about bulimia. Now, Becca Jade shares her story on recovering from trichotillomania:
Trichotillomania is an impulse control disorder characterized by the compulsive urge to pull out one’s hair. This leads to hair loss, balding, distress, and social or functional impairment. People with this disorder know that they can do damage by acting on the impulses, but they cannot stop themselves. I strongly believe that in life, we are often faced with challenges that we can handle. At times, we might bend, but we will not break.
I never knew that my road towards bulimia would end in a treatment center for substance use. Addiction in any form is a dangerous beast that will consume every aspect of your mind, body, and soul. If you’re lucky, you’ll survive. The first time I threw up, I was 14. I had no idea how to cope with the emotional pain of trauma; I was simply trying to survive. Bulimia was my coping tool.
When I started purging, I was doing it once a day. I became obsessed with my weight, with calories, with my body. Purging drowned out all the emotional pain I was feeling. Within a year, my disease took over my whole world. I was throwing up 15 times a day and my body was starting to feel the effects. My throat burned, my stomach hurt all the time, and my heart would race uncontrollably. I was exhausted. My muscles ached when I had to climb stairs, yet I made myself run 3 miles everyday. I was completely consumed in my disease. Every waking hour was wrapped up in planning my next binge and purge. Where was I getting the money? Which drive thru was I going to hit? What was I going to order? Where was I going to throw up?
I have an addictive personality. I don’t just like something…I LOOOOOVE something. And I want everyone to love it, too. I’ve been told that my excitement can come across as pushy, aggressive, and judgmental at times, so I’ve been working on scaling that back a bit. But to be completely honest, I’ve been “working on” a lot. From being more vulnerable to being less judgmental to communicating more clearly to improving my running pace to having a flatter stomach to writing more often to being a better listener to eating less sugar to blah blah blah. You get the idea. It’s f***ing exhausting and I don’t know how to give myself a break.