I have lost track of how many times I have imagined this moment over the past five years. The moment in which I would be sitting down in front of my computer to write my “recovery story”, to tell the world what I had been through and how I had overcome it, to infuse hope and energy in others, because I would have finally gotten to a place where I was full of that hope and energy. I imagined myself feeling emotional, in that moment, but overall happy, proud, immensely proud in fact. I imagined myself feeling like I had scaled a really tough mountain, and I could speak to people from the top, giving tips on how to climb, because I had a perfectly clear view from up there.
Well, this moment could not be more different than how I have imagined it.
If I am at the top of any mountain whatsoever, even of a tiny hill, the clouds are so thick that I can’t tell. I can barely see where I am standing, although I am sure that I am standing somewhere. I have intermittent knowledge of the trail I walked on to get here, and I certainly could not give any precise directions. But, wherever I am, here is where I have gotten, and here is where I have felt like sitting down and writing, finally.
I have read infinite classic and shiny recovery stories, and I have read as many “critical”or alternative ones. All along the way, I have been rationally aware that recovery is not linear, it is not the same for everyone, there will be ups and downs, and that the “butterfly tale” isn’t the only possible way. I also have barely ever been sure of where I wanted to end up, of what it truly meant to “recover”, and I also, again, rationally knew that I had been told that it is okay not to know, that learning to live within the uncertainty, to accept limitations and don’t expect clarity, to not be so hard on myself, to scrap the “black and white” mindset, that all that “go with the flow” attitude would be the key to my success. And who better than a sociologist could do that better? Who better than us knows how complex and multifaceted the world is? Who better than us knows that nothing is ever black or white, but everything is on a spectrum, everything is true “to an extent”, limitations are inevitable, perfect objectivity does not exist even in science, and we can make that unavoidable subjectivity our strength instead of our enemy if we are conscious of it? Yes, in theory, I have known all of this for quite a long time now, and I should be well equipped to deal with the absolute randomness and lack of controllable things in life. Yet, something still wasn’t working. My “recoveries” would always be temporary, for a week, maybe two, and during my last semester I felt recovered for a couple of months even…but then I would always relapse. And beat myself up for it, pretty hard. Which was a way of setting myself up for relapsing again, after another brief recovery period. These loops had become my absolute normality, something I started having a hard time imagining living without. I started to construct my very identity around my eating disorder (yes, I had not mentioned it so far, but this is what I have been dealing with), and gave increasingly more power to the little sabotager inside my head, which would do anything in its capacity to bring me down.
Now, the goal of this piece of writing isn’t to confess the root causes of my disorder (which I am still finding out through therapy, slowly and somewhat unpredictably) or describe the details of what it means to live with an eating disorder while at University. It also isn’t a classic tale of a worm turning into a pretty and free butterfly, nor an alternative recipe for success in battling mental health challenges. As I said, I know that I’m standing somewhere along my trail, but I don’t know where, and that is precisely why I want to write from here. When I was on much shakier ground, all I could find were testimonies of people writing or speaking from the top of the mountain, which certainly gave me hope and encouragement, but were too far up to take me by the hand and climb with me, which is what I was looking for. I’m hoping that this little, disorganized but heartfelt ramble of mine can take someone by the hand, even if to make just one step together.
The most important message I hope to get across is that that one step can really be in any direction, as long as it is your own. You are sociology students, so by default I know that you are critical thinkers, that you question what comes your way, that you analyse it thouroughly, that you see the big picture, and that sometimes you overthink it too. You have all the tools to evaluate whether something is good or bad for you and even for the world from a rational standpoint. But do you have all the tools to feel whether something is good or bad for you? I sure know that, while I was at UBC, I didn’t, and I’m still building my toolbox as I write. I sure know that, while I was at UBC, I wasn’t allowing myself to feel very much, because, deep inside, I knew that if I would let myself, it would quickly be too much.
If you looked at the world with even half of the attention sociologists have, you couldn’t help but feel hopeless. Nihilism, as much as withdrawal, depression or disordered eating, become coping mechanisms to deal with a “liquid” world that we are not prepared to face, which entails complexities we can grapple with intellectually and rationally, paradoxes we can write out and either solve or leave unsolved in a philosophy essay with a level of detachment and nonchalance that we simply cannot apply when it comes to our own deeply rooted uncertainty. I could detach from the paradoxes I exposed in written assignments, where they would be “worth studying” and “fascinating”, but I couldn’t detach from their consequences on my life, and my subconscious built a very efficient defense mechanism to protect my core from such unsettling questions and feelings, as “what is the point of trying to change anything if climate change is going to kill us all anyway, and perhaps we actually deserve it as a species?” Or “why am I having studying and pretending I want to get a job when the thought of being locked in an office terrifies me, and I don’t agree the least bit with the productive system anyways?” Or “why do most people in the world live absolutely oppressive, exploitative lives and I am given all these chances to explore myself, and I waste them on hurting myself?” and I could continue, on and on and on. And don’t get me wrong, I didn’t develop an eating disorder just out of existential and socio-cultural questions, because I wasn’t born a philosophy or sociology student. Like all the mental complexes we develop, eating disorders stem from multiple and multifaceted causes, that take a long time to be identified and dealt with.
But dealing with your mental health is not like writing an assignment or a research paper. There is no wrong and right answer, and there is no need to know all the possible variables in order to draw inferences on the course of action one should likely take.
In my experience, slogging along this tortous path has meant (but really, still means, on a daily basis) learning to let go and re-learning how to learn. This learning is not one you can do with your books, or on your computer. It is a long process of learning how to listen to yourself, learning how to say no, and not just to other people and voices outside yourself, but first, foremost and hardest of all, to the voices in your head that you are so used to that you don’t even hear as separate voices, but just as your own. Yet, during the brief lucid, “recovered” periods, you barely understand how and why on earth you just decided to hurt yourself so badly, in whichever way you did it. No one truly and fully desires to hurt oneself. Part of you may want it, but if you are reading here, if you got yourself to study at university, that means that there is at least a little part of yourself that wants you to be thriving, that wants you to be well, that does not want self-harm. And that is the part we all need to latch on to, and to slowly detach ourselves and let go of the voices that want our failure, that call for sabotage, even if we have given in so many times we don’t even realize they are separate from ourselves.
But trust me (and scientific research!), because they are. You know that too. And even if you feel like you are standing right inside a black cloud, a day will come in which you will not only know that is true, but you will actually feel it with your whole heart and body. You will truly feel the hope you nurture for yourself, your heart will be full of desire for you to thrive. You will dream again, even if rationally you may still know that yes, in fact there is very little point, we are all quite likely to die soon for climate change or nuclear war, but the power of passions and dreams is irrational, and thank goodness it is! Once you feel, it is hard to stop, but the change that gets you there happens slowly and unpredicatbly. All I can say is that it will happen, but it won’t happen on its own, out of the blue. Here we go with a lovely sociological paradox: even though we can agree on seeing mental health as not just a “private trouble” but rather a “public issue” (the Sociological Imagination never gets old!), personal and ‘existential’ solutions can help you a great deal before addressing the structural causes.
If it was for me, I know I would be much healthier in a society with Universal Basic Income, without inequality and sexism, with equal access to education and healthcare, without Big Pharma and Big Food industries, without factory farming, without an exploitative economy. If it was for me, I would restructure the world to make it look like anarchic Barcelona in the 1930s. And sure as hell I will do my best to work towards a tiny bit of that throughout my lifetime, but that kind of structural change is not going to happen tomorrow, and may in fact never happen.
The type of change that can absolutely happen tomorrow (or even earlier, now!) is a change in the tiny structures around you and, one by the one, inside you too.
The tiny structures around you start with people: as trivial as it sounds, if you are struggling, seek out help. Talk to your family, your friends, your mentors. And, please please please, talk to a professional, and give it at least a serious try. I started therapy about four times with four different people before I found the one I could stick with. I had to travel back to my home country in order to find someone I could open up my heart to in my native language. I am putting my life on what looks like a break form conventional success-pursuing, and it is absolutely worth it. If the help of a professional doesn’t seem to work, change professional. A different person, or perhaps someone with a slightly different approach (maybe a Jungian psychotherapist instead of a cognitive-behavioural therapist, or instead of a counsellor, or viceversa!), or someone who can offer a different type of help (ever tried acupuncture?). Humans are inventive, smart and efficient and they have deviced all sorts of theories and methods to help each other out. Those theories and methods are widely different because we are all different and we think in different ways and we need different things. Don’t be afraid of what you truly need and desire.
Besides seeking help, make sure you are setting yourself up in the best possible way you can in terms of external structures: your room, your roommates, your meals, your commute to work, the entertainment you choose, the people you hang out with. Let go of what is dragging you down, cherish the small things that keep you connected to yourself. It doesn’t always have to be about what makes you smile and all those cheesy things. As long as you are feeling and are in touch with your feelings, you will know they come in all shapes and colours and it is great to fully experience them all. I’m growing to believe that, for me, needing less “anesthesia” to deal with the world, and being able to be present and face the consequences of my feeling, means that I am moving forward. But that is because I have slowly and painfully found out that that is one of the major issues I have been facing; it may not be the same for you, and that is for you to find out.
It takes work, it doesn’t happen overnight, but please remember that you are not alone, in anything you are facing. Our generation is bearing the burden of a society that has gone too far and we are conscious enough to know that. But we are all on the same boat, even if we deal with the weight in different ways, and I know we are resilient enough not to give up the gift of life we were given. True kindness to each other and to ourselves, in this historical moment, is as subversive as a social movement. Which I still encourage you to join, of course, but after and while you take care of yourself.
See, I said I wouldn’t give any advice, and I ended up doing it…do what you want with it, take it, leave it, scrap it, spit on it. Anything. As long as you listen to yourself, and let go of the rest.
I know you can go through your UBC experience, and through everything you are going through.
And while you are still climbing in the dark, please feel free to reach out, because climbing together always feels a little strenous. And the more pair of eyes, the better chances for someone to find the headlamp switch.
Take care,
Emma
UBC Sociology Class of 2019