How This DBT Skill Revolutionized My Recovery

How This DBT Skill Revolutionized My Recovery

Colleen Werner

I am in recovery from an eating disorder and an anxiety disorder, and part of my recovery is Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT).

DBT was created in the 1980s by Dr. Marsha Linehan. It consists of four modules — mindfulness, emotion regulation, distress tolerance, and interpersonal effectiveness. Each module consists of several skills that work together to help “build a life worth living.”

One DBT skill that has made a huge impact on my recovery is called Effective Rethinking with Paired Muscle Relaxation. This is a distress tolerance skill that combines effective self-statements with paced breathing and muscle relaxation.

The skill starts with writing down a prompting event that is triggering distressing emotions. In my case, some typical triggering prompting events that I have experienced are having a bad body image day, having someone make a comment about my body or a food choice, feeling like my clothing was too tight, and encountering a fear food.

The next step is asking yourself what interpretations and thoughts you have surrounding that prompting event that could be causing the emotion response. These interpretations take up a lot of headspace, and the high levels of emotion that they can trigger often make it hard to carry on with life in an effective way. Some common interpretations that come up for me are:

“If someone makes a comment about my body, it must be true.”
“My body defines me.”
“If I outgrow my clothing, I’m not good enough.”
“If someone says I should avoid some type of food, I should listen to them.”
“There are ‘good’ foods and ‘bad’ foods.”

After writing down your interpretations, it’s time to challenge them! Create statements that rethink the situation and its surrounding feelings such as:

“My worth isn’t defined by my body, weight, size, or appearance, and my view of myself may be distorted.”
“Food isn’t good or bad. Food is just food.”
“Just because someone says something doesn’t mean it’s true, constructive, or healthy for me.”

These challenge statements can be effective by themselves, but combining them with paired muscle relaxation is even more beneficial. While sitting or lying down, take a deep breath in, say one of the challenge statements to yourself, and tense a muscle (I often start with my forehead and work my way down to my toes.) As you breathe out, say “relax”, and then relax all of your muscles. The key is to start practicing this skill in non-stressful situations so that when stressful situations inevitably arise, using the skill is instinctive.

One of the reasons why I think this skill has been so effective for me in my recovery is because it combines a physical action with a mental action. Not only does it involve letting go of mental tension, but it involves letting go of physical tension, as well. Mental and emotional symptoms can cause physical symptoms, and vice versa.

When I first learned this skill, I started practicing it every night before going to sleep. It’s an excellent way to unwind before bed, and it helps to diffuse any stress from the day so that you can wake up in a refreshed, relaxed headspace the next morning. In addition, by making this skill a part of my nighttime routine, it’s helped make the skill feel natural so that I can use it in the moment when triggering situations pop up.

At first, I didn’t want to believe these challenge statements, and I didn’t want to believe that this skill would have a huge impact. However, from the first time I practiced it, it had a great amount of power. I remember pairing one of the challenge statements with tensing and relaxing my lower back muscles, and I experienced a huge release both physically and mentally. As my muscles softened, my mind slowed down. The negative thoughts and judgments decreased, and I felt some much-needed clarity.

Practicing effective rethinking with paired muscle relaxation has contributed hugely to my progress in recovery. It has helped me truly believe the challenge statements that I created, and it has also shown me the reality of the mind-body connection. It has helped me “rewire” a lot of of unhealthy thought patterns and replace them with more effective ways of thinking.

While this skill isn’t the only reason why I’ve made so much progress in my recovery, it’s definitely a huge contributor, and I think that it’s something everyone needs to try.

Colleen Werner is a writer, dancer, and future therapist from Long Island, NY. She’s studying Psychology at SUNY Old Westbury and plans on going to graduate school for Mental Health Counseling. She aspires to start an eating disorder treatment program for dancers. Colleen’s experiences in recovery from an eating disorder and anxiety disorder have inspired her to share her story in an effort to help others, end the stigma, and create a sense of community. She is a National Ambassador for Project HEAL, a Campus Editor-at-Large for HuffPost, and a contributor for HerCampus and The Mighty. Colleen’s Instagram, @leenahlovesherself, inspires thousands every day with her posts about authenticity and mental health.

If I'm Detaching From My Eating Disorder Identity, Then Who Am I?

If I'm Detaching From My Eating Disorder Identity, Then Who Am I?

Jennifer Kreatsoulas, PhD, RYT 500

Photo by Chris Barbalis on Unsplash

When a diagnosis becomes our identity and our identity a diagnosis, we unknowingly become walking, talking containers of illness, pain, and even hopelessness. 

We separate ourselves from others in the belief we are different or broken. As we embody the disease we believe precedes us, we disconnect from our unique gifts and passions. Our bodies hurt, our minds become one dimensional, and our spirits wither. Our world narrows to a single dark point chained to the fear of not knowing who we are without our diagnosis identity. 

It's only having lived to come out the other side of shedding the diagnosis identity of an eating disorder that I can say with conviction that you have permission to detach from yours too. I understand the fear, anxiety, confusion, and uncertainty that accompanies even the smallest of steps to let go of that which you believe keeps you safe, in control, and put together. For decades I fiercely resisted detaching from the diagnosis of anorexia. From my hair style to how my clothes hung on my body to the bags under my eyes to the food on (or not on) my plate, I dedicated my every action, word, and thought to fulfilling my identity as an anorexic. That diagnosis was the lens through which I viewed the world and my place in it, and it was a dead end.   

With time, persistence, willingness, and a whole lot of support, my eyes opened to the shadow I was living in, the shadow of my diagnosis identity. Once I spotted this identity as a menacing shadow and not the entirety of who I was, I realized I had the power to walk out into the light.

As I inched away from the shadow, new possibilities for healing came into my life as did new relationships and opportunities. 

Slowly but surely, I began to resent the shadow for holding me back from embracing more and more of the world around me and the food, people, and sensations in it. The stronger my resentment grew, the more willing I became to detach from the diagnosis identity and replace it with the gifts, talents, and passions that were buried but by no means dead. 

It took practice giving myself permission to detach from the eating disorder identity. Every morning for months I asked myself Who are you? until the words anorexia, anorexic, and eating disorder were not my first answer. Little by little, more answers surfaced in my mind, like mother, daughter, wife, yogini, writer, creative soul, kind person, etc. I did this exercise over and over until the words related to my diagnosis identity moved down the list and one day slid right off it. Getting to this point took perseverance, and it wasn't a straight line, just as recovery is not.

With the help of a therapist, other supports, and my Yoga practice, I was able to arrive at complete permission to detach from the diagnosis identity. Now the words anorexia and eating disorder do not define me, nor do I strive to embody them. Rather, I respect and honor these words for the profound experiences in my life they represent and the gifts they provided: self-awareness, empathy, resilience, compassion, and ultimately my life's purpose to support others healing from eating disorders through yoga. 

My friend, you are capable of detaching from any identity that keeps you trapped in shadows. Once you give yourself permission to do so, the possibilities for goodness to fill your life are endless. Take a few moments and reflect on these questions: 

How would your life change if you shed your diagnosis identity?
What dreams would become possible?
How much more fulfilled would you be?
How much more connected would you be?
How much more whole would you be?

Don't be afraid to ask yourself who you are. Let the answers come as they are in this very moment. Ask again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that until new words bubble up. With permission, they will. Be patient and gentle with yourself as you step away from the shadow, but trust you can do it. I fiercely believe you are more than a diagnosis. You have permission to detach from your diagnosis identity. You have permission to explore who you are without it. You have permission to move through this world as a whole, vital individual. 

Coming to you this Fall!

Do you want to be the first to hear about REAL + RECOVERED and be notified when enrollment opens... enter your details below!

Jennifer Kreatsoulas, PhD, RYT 500 is the founder of Chime Yoga Therapy and specializes in eating disorders and body image. In addition to her private yoga therapy practice, Jennifer leads yoga therapy groups at the Monte Nido Eating Disorder Center of Philadelphia, is cofounder of the Body Kindness Project, and a partner with both the Yoga and Body Image Coalition and the Transformation Yoga Project. She is the creator of the home video series Yoga to Strengthen Body Image and Support Eating Disorder Recovery. Her writing on the topics of yoga, body image, motherhood, and eating disorder recovery can be found on her blog as well as several influential online publications. Connect with Jennifer.

Be Careful What You Tell Your Brain

Be Careful What You Tell Your Brain

Karen R. Koenig, M.Ed., LCSW

You are not only what you eat, but what you tell yourself. Nearly every week, a client comes into my office and tells me how “overwhelmed” she is. She’ll say it multiple times: “I’m so overwhelmed” or “I’m really overwhelmed” or “Boy, am I overwhelmed.” Although I encourage clients to connect to their emotions, I don’t encourage them to keep reminding themselves of feelings they don’t need to be having.

Our brain more or less understands only commands and translates more complex ideas into them. It hears our self-talk and does what it thinks we want it to do. So that, “I’m overwhelmed” tells the brain to feel pressured, “I’m miserable” instructs it to be unhappy, and “I’m scared” signals it to feel fear. This is, of course, the exact opposite of what you want to be telling your brain when you’re overwhelmed, miserable or scared. 

Try an experiment. Set a timer and for one minute repeat to yourself that you’re overwhelmed, scared, miserable, sad, fatigued, or some other “negative” emotion. Make sure to say it as if you really mean it, the way you would when you actually feel it. When one minute is up, check your feelings. Notice your bodily sensations and posture and what you’re thinking about. Generally, people end up feeling what they’ve been saying. If you don’t, continue the experiment for five minutes and check in with yourself again.

Then, follow this procedure and this time tell yourself that you’re happy, proud, joyful or glad to be alive. Again, notice your bodily sensations and emotional state. Extend the experiment to five minutes if needed and do another assessment.

I’m not telling you to deny your emotions. You just want to be careful that you’re not causing an emotion to happen because you keep repeating that you feel a certain way. Obviously, if you’re feeling hurt or mistreated by someone, you don’t want to brush that off or turn it into a positive feeling because this is crucial information for your happiness. But, there’s a big difference between self-talk that allows you to explore, say, feeling hurt, betrayed, or invalidated and directing your brain to make you unhappy.

If you tend toward focusing on negative emotions, just be careful what you tell yourself and aren’t reinforcing them. Rather, tell yourself how you wish to be feeling, not how you currently feel. Turn “I can’t stand this” into “I can manage this” and “I’m overwhelmed” into “I’m really busy.” There’s even a big difference between calling yourself “overwhelmed” and “busy.” Use the past tense to describe how you don’t want to feel—“I’ve been unhappy”—and the present tense to direct your brain how you wish to feel—“I’m feeling better and better every day.”

Karen R. Koenig, M.Ed., LCSW, is an international, award-winning author of seven books on eating, weight and body image, a psychotherapist with 30 years of experience, a health educator, and a popular blogger. Her expertise is in eating psychology and helping over-eaters and binge-eaters improve their self-care and become “normal” eaters. She lives and practices in Sarasota, Florida.
Visit her website

Can You Have Too Much Compassion for Others?

Can You Have Too Much Compassion for Others?

Karen R. Koenig, M.Ed., LCSW

Photo by Dayne Topkin

I love the kind of days when the same themes keep re-appearing from one client to the other. Sometimes the theme is realizing that the most important approval comes from ourselves. Or that detachment is far superior than wanting to change someone. Or the theme that echoed through practically every session one particular Monday in late May.

Most of my clients learn about self-compassion from me and we have long discussions about it how they never learned it from their parents who didn’t possess it or why they never received much of it growing up. They understand that self-compassion—meeting suffering with kindness—is missing in them and generally do quite well in healing their eating and other problems by generated greater care and concern toward themselves. They find it quite amazing how a little self-compassion can go such a long way toward helping them have a better attitude and a better life.

On this particular Monday, the theme was not self-compassion, but compassion toward others and how having too much it can easily get in the way of seeing mistreatment—abuse or neglect—and stopping it dead in its tracks. Specifically, what came up talking with so many clients that day was how they could be so blinded by compassion, caring so much for others, or wanting desperately not to cause them pain, that they would willingly hurt themselves instead.

This may have happened to you. Someone tells you a sob story about their life and you feel so terrible for them that all you can think about is how to help them stop hurting. You’ll do almost anything to stop their pain, even ignore your own or the pain they’re inflicting on you. You’ll pay half their rent, feed them, buy them expensive toys, or lie for them. You’ll literally give them the shirt off your back and happily walk around without one because at least you could something for them.

Having compassion for others is a positive, humane quality, but it must be balanced out with compassion for self: I don’t want you to hurt and I don’t want to hurt either. It also must be balanced out with good judgment. I can’t tell you how many times clients tell me they’ve done inappropriate things for others all because “I felt badly for them.” What is missing in this reasoning is what any particular act will do to you. Sometimes it will harm you outwardly and sometimes it will take its toll inwardly, making you feel like a fool when you think you should have known better.

So, yes, show those who are suffering compassion, but watch that you don’t go overboard and end up hurting yourself.

Karen R. Koenig, M.Ed., LCSW, is an international, award-winning author of seven books on eating, weight and body image, a psychotherapist with 30 years of experience, a health educator, and a popular blogger. Her expertise is in eating psychology and helping over-eaters and binge-eaters improve their self-care and become “normal” eaters. She lives and practices in Sarasota, Florida.
Visit her website

Transforming Self-Criticism: Stop Comparing Yourself to Others

Transforming Self-Criticism: Stop Comparing Yourself to Others

Rebecca McConville, MS, RD, LD, CSSD

Photo by Carly Rae Hobbins

If comparison is the thief of Joy, why hand it over to thieves? In a world filled with: books, blogs, podcasts on how to get joy back into your life shouldn't we start with avoiding comparisons?

This seems most prevalent in the world of sport. Impressionable young athletes are quick to jump on the hottest bandwagon even if it is ludacris. Case in point when Tom Brady decided to go on the no nightshade diet. This diet had absolutely no scientific evidence to back it up yet athletes everywhere started inquiring about it. Was it the diet or was it Tom Brady who is a freak of nature athlete? Why can’t we acknowledge that some people are genetically gifted athletically just as others are naturally smart or have a quick wit to them that can make anyone laugh? In the world of sports, you truly are only competing against yourself and if today is going to be your day, it will be your day!

Do we suffer from the cruelness of comparisons or is it the culture in which we live in? Just as we see cultures within the world, they are even more prevalent within the world of sport. One of my dear friends has been an avid runner for 30+ years and talks about when runners showed up in cotton shirts/socks, old-school running shorts and their sports food of choice was mini-snickers. Now at races, people are fully decked in the trendiest running gear, full on makeup and accessories meanwhile huddling around their running clique discussing their pace splits (#nowatchme), clean eating efforts and what races they plan to do this month.

Cars used to have bumper stickers bragging about their child on honor roll or making fun of the child that beat up the honor roll student. Now cars are full of 13.1, 26.2, 50, 150-mile bumper stickers. Waiting for the moment we see the 1,000 numbers. My husband proudly jokes he wants a 0.0 bumper sticker!

Criticisms come as part of sport whether we want it or not, but we must consider the reason for why it is generated: constructive or jealousy? Ron Thompson shared a story at the Eating Disorder in Sports conference about when he was working with a runner who felt uncomfortable that her uniform would expose her when she was running. Ron replied, “Well if they're staring at your butt it has to be because you're in the lead!” I think most athletes agree they will take the fear of wedgie if it means winning.

Many times criticisms are internalized as self-criticism when it is meant towards their performance. I fell victim to this in college after making a horrible mistake picking up the ball once crossing half-court then double teamed resulting in a jump ball. The opposing team won the jump ball and came down to score the winning shot of the game. As I went to the locker room feeling completely defeated one of my teammates put her hand on my shoulder and said “It’s ok Bec, I know you won’t ever make that mistake again. “

You see when we aren’t busy comparing, or criticizing we have the power to change the culture and build one another up!

Rebecca McConville, MS, RD, LD, CSSD is a Master’s Level Registered Dietitian & a Board Certified Sports Specialist. She specializes in the treatment of anorexia, bulimia, compulsive overeating & exercise addiction. She also treats the female athlete triad & athlete-associated disordered eating. Becca understands that the drive for peak performance may lead to disordered eating. Her goal is to help you fuel your body, so that you can fuel your life! Visit her website.

Trying Not to Try: The Wild Mind Workings of a Recovering Perfectionist

Trying Not to Try: The Wild Mind Workings of a Recovering Perfectionist

Andrea Wachter, LMFT

Photo by Erol Ahmed

“You’re imperfect and you’re wired for struggle but you are worthy of love and belonging.”

— Brené Brown

If you are someone who has struggled with eating and body image, there’s a good chance you have also struggled with perfectionism. If this is the case for you, you’re likely no stranger to the concept of trying.

Back in the days of my eating disorder, my trying looked something like this:

• Trying to lose weight
• Trying a new diet
• Trying to recover from a binge
• Trying to work out
• Trying to work out more (Pull up a chair, this could take a while!)
• Trying to improve my looks
• Trying to get a boyfriend
• Trying to look good
• Trying to fit in
• Trying to do well in school
• Trying to be cool
• Trying to be perfect

Next up were my early years in recovery:

• Trying to listen to my body
• Trying to eat intuitively
• Trying to get it right
• Trying to let go of being perfect
• Trying to be perfect
• Trying to be balanced
• Trying to be healthy
• Trying to be a good person
• Trying not to beat myself up
• Trying to get a career
• Trying to get “likes”
• Trying to let go of caring about “likes”
• Trying to keep up with the daily grind
• Trying to do the right thing
• Trying to know what the right thing was
• Trying to look good
• Trying not to care how I looked

These days it’s more like:

• Trying to be more present
• Trying to surrender
• Trying to live in acceptance
• Trying not to get injured
• Trying to be kinder to myself
• Trying to find my glasses
• Trying to have a balanced life
• Trying to be peaceful
• Trying to welcome all emotions
• Trying to age well
• Trying to surrender to aging
• Trying to practice gratitude
• Trying not to lose my keys
• Trying to practice mindfulness
• Trying not to beat myself up
• Trying not to try so hard (I told you this could take a while!)

Recently, while on a lovely walk in the redwood forest, (my personal place of worship), I started thinking about all this trying. How for as long as I can remember, I have been trying, and then more recently, trying not to try so hard. I’d set out to take a lovely, quiet walk and commune with nature, yet that day, my mind was as busy as ever. I decided to call order in the court.

Hey! Can we give it a rest? Can we just stop trying? Can we stop trying to stop trying? Can we admit that the only reason we ever try to get or get rid of anything is because we think we will feel better if we did? Can we cut out the middle man and just cut to the chase?

And then, perhaps being witnessed by the majestic trees, the swaying ferns and the glistening creek, or perhaps because I made a conscious decision to drop trying (the new stop, drop and roll), something inside me gave way. My little tryer said, “Uncle,” and I began to steer my mind to the breeze, my feet on the ground, my arms moving in time, my breathing, a bird song. Much like pointing a tantruming child back to something soothing in the present moment, I steered my busy mind back home, back to reality.

The promises of attainment, achievement, and accomplishment will pop up again and again, I’m sure. Many of us have been raised on way too much Disney and happily-ever-afters. But I’m onto it now. I am onto my mind’s seductive nature. Our minds seduce us into thinking that if we just got this fill-in-the-blank, we would be happy, but all we have to do is remember the last several hundred things we were convinced would bring us happy-ever-after-ness to see that it’s not the case. If it were, we would have just lived happily-ever-after.

So, if you struggle with a busy little tryer inside of you, see if you can reel it back in now and then. Notice the simplicity of the moment. Remind your mind that anything you acquire will have pro’s and con’s and ups and downs so there really is nowhere to get. This is the best news of all.

In any given moment, we all have a feast of temptations to take us away from this moment. And then we have this moment. Reality. Right here. Right now. We get to choose… fantasies and fears or that which is actually, factually here. This breath. This surface. This sensation. This sound. I’m willing to give it a whirl if you are.

Andrea Wachter, LMFT is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist and co-author of Mirror, Mirror on the Wall: Breaking the “I Feel Fat” Spell as well as The Don’t Diet, Live-It Workbook. She is also the author of Getting Over Overeating for Teens. Andrea is an inspirational counselor, author and speaker who uses professional expertise, humor and her personal recovery to help others. For more information on her books, blogs and other services, please visit her website.

Suicide: A Senseless Tragedy

Suicide:
A Senseless Tragedy

Angie Viets, LCP, CEDS

This article has originally been published on Psychology Today

As humans, we are hardwired to make sense of things. To analyze, formulate, and reason. We’re perpetually mining for meaning—especially when there’s chaos. Unconsciously we ask ourselves, “What does it mean?” And yet, there are situations where our logical brains fail us. Suicide is the epitome of such complexity.

Despite our most valiant efforts, to resolve what may be unresolvable, we sort and sift through the remains of a life robbed by suicide. Our bodies are programmed for survival, especially in dire circumstances. It’s a seemingly impossible endeavor to comprehend a person choosing to end their life. 

Many of us can identify fleeting thoughts in which we experience passive thoughts like “Wouldn’t it be nice to fall asleep and never wake up?” The intrusive thought of running your car off the side of the road flashes in your mind. We swiftly discard such notions when we are of sound mind. Able in those moments to call to mind simple reassurances, such as, “This too shall pass.” Often we’re able to conjure up past struggles, where yes, in fact, the plight passed.

But what if every way we turned we were met with the darkest, driest dirt—impenetrable despite our maneuvering? Intuitively, we know that worming our way out is where we finally find relief. With broken fingernails and dust-filled lungs, eventually, even the strongest soldier would grow weary. What if that endured for many seasons; no sign of the rain we prayed for to offer a lubricant to ease us out from dark tunnels into the light? Defeat and hopelessness would set in.

What if while we were in the cramped, suffocating space, we could make out, in audible laughter or soft whispers, the sounds of others, our beloved people (should we be so fortunate) above us? In spite of their best, most determined efforts, their passion and persistence to pry us out of the vice were unsuccessful, or only seemed to work for a short time, and then, without warning there we were again buried by the burden of our ailment. Desperate for their suggestions and solutions to work, yet also deeply resentful of how effortlessly they appear to twirl and tiptoe above. “What’s wrong with me?” we’d wonder.

Eventually, we would no longer be able to fight off the weariness and fatigue. The enormity of our guilt and our inability to simply “shake this” or “snap out of it” is added to our already failing lungs. Every possible solution—therapy, meds, meditation, more exercise, and sunlight—unsuccessful. In the stillness, we would ask ourselves, “Would they all just be better off without me?” Paralyzed by our powerlessness, our failure to thrive is cemented as we sink even further into the darkness. 

When all sound is gone, our ears caked with dirt, is likely, in my mind, when the tortured truth takes flight: If going up has failed innumerable times, then perhaps, with the gravity of a despairing and desperate heart, we decide that possibly the only way out is to surrender to what’s below. 

I’ve recalled my moments of deepest despair, prolonged pain, and silent suffering. In all of those trials there were—sometimes after agonizing searching—always, I repeat, always soft crevices where little by little I could inch my way back to the surface. I don’t believe it’s because I “tried harder,” or “wanted it more” that I was “successful,” any more than one who battles cancer is blessed to be in remission, while the friend she made while receiving all of those IV infusions learns the cancer has metastasized and no viable treatment option remains. Would we view that person as weak, failing in some way, or cowardly? Or would we find ways to accept the unacceptable and love him so hard it hurt until he took his last breath? We want so much for there to be another way. Trial drugs, a healer from a foreign land, something, anything. The hardest truth is hearing, “We’ve tried everything, we’re out of options.”

I will forever remember, as the kids swam in the pool, splashing and laughing, the sons, daughters, and husband of my beloved mother-in-law sat at the nearby table on the deck. The same deck where glasses of wine and stories were shared for years as the aroma of tender meat was seasoned on the grill. We listened, with tears streaming down our faces, as she told us she and my father-in-law had decided to discontinue the treatment for the tumor that invaded her brain only months before. 

My brain fought against this decision. “Surely there’s another way. Another specialist. Something, please God, something else we could try.” It was an agonizing process to surrender to her choice. I accepted this was her decision to make and my job, my one critical job, was to love her as much as I could, for as long I could. Over the course of those painful remaining months, as I curled up with her in her bed, she told me she was completely at peace with her decision, although unbearably sad about all that she would miss out on with her children and rapidly growing number of grandchildren. 

The stark contrast of my mother, a junior in high school at the time, who, as she turned into her cul-de-sac, sweetly known as “Candy Cane Lane,” after an evening shift at her part-time job was blinded by sirens flashing in front of her childhood home. Her adored father, the one she and her sisters lovingly refer to as “Daddy” and “Buzz” had—despite many years battling severe, intractable depression—ended his life mere days before Thanksgiving. There was no long goodbye. Perhaps he made his decision in an instant, or over the course of a year. 

They too wrestled with unanswered questions while cloaked in grief, “Surely there was another way. Something else we could have tried. Dear God, what did we miss?” And yet, as years passed, the acceptance of the unacceptable settles in. 

As a therapist, I offer my clients antidotes to ease the isolation, a soft space to land their weary souls, and the willingness to hold hope for them when they’ve lost all hope. Maybe, if there’s enough of us helping to scoop away the dirt carefully, perhaps some sunlight and fresh air will greet those trapped below. 

I know for sure, as I stand up here, desperate to make sense of the senselessness of suicide that we long to ease your suffering—to break the spell and bring you home. My belief and my experience are grounded in the knowledge that to suffer alone is not what was intended for us. We need to lean hard and deep into each other. To offer meals to the depressed the same way we would bring casseroles to the sick. The willingness to get close to the sufferer and say, “You are not alone in this, my dear. Whatever it takes, I’m here for you. For however long you need me.” We must call in the troops if there’s any hope of freedom from such despair. 

It alarms me when people negatively describe those who express suicidal thoughts as “attention seeking.” Yes, if someone tells you they’re suicidal, they are in fact seeking your attention. It’s a cry for help and requires a call to action. It likely took tremendous courage to say out loud what has haunted them inside for some time. Believe them the first time. During quiet evening porch swing talks, my mom has shared with me regret from all of those years ago, even though she was merely a teenager at the time, “We should have listened to him. Believed him when he said he no longer wanted to live in such pain. Instead, we tried to block it out and hoped it would pass.” 

With September being National Suicide Prevention Awareness month, I’m extending my heartfelt and sincere condolences to those who’ve lost someone they love to suicide. For those suffering with thoughts of suicide, please consider the following resources:

Informational Resources

• Know the Warning Signs and Risk of Suicide
• Preventing Suicide as a Family Member or Caregiver
• Being Prepared for a Crisis
• Need more information, referrals or support? Contact the NAMI HelpLine.

Crisis Resources

• If you or someone you know is in an emergency, call 911 immediately.
• If you are in crisis or are experiencing difficult or suicidal thoughts, call the National Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273 TALK (8255)
• If you’re uncomfortable talking on the phone, you can also text NAMI to 741-741 to be connected to a free, trained crisis counselor on the Crisis Text Line.

Visit NAMI's website for more resources and to get involved.

Angie Viets, LCP, CEDS is a clinical psychotherapist and certified eating disorders specialist in private practice. She specializes in the treatment of eating disorders, body image, and overeating. Angie is dedicated to empowering others to nurture their body, mend their relationship with food, and to embody their most authentic self. Her passion for the field was born out of her own hard-won battle with an eating disorder. She believes that full recovery is possible!

Angie has a thriving website that offers resources for people in recovery and was voted #1 on Healthline's list of the Best Eating Disorders Blogs of 2017. She is currently in the process of writing her first book, where she will demystify eating disorder recovery and offer inspiration and guidance to those suffering in silence. Her writing is featured in Huffington Post and recognized eating disorder treatment centers throughout the country.

You’re All Wrong About Anxiety

We Are All Wrong About Anxiety

Karen R. Koenig, M.Ed., LCSW

Most of my clients are anxious, whether they have dysregulated eating or not. They fret incessantly about how they’re doing in life compared to others, whether they’re making enough “right” decisions, and how they’ll manage if life doesn’t go exactly as they’ve planned. They’re so used to believing that it’s their worries and fears that keep the sky from crashing down upon them, that they never stop and think that anxiety is no more powerful than the Wizard of Oz or protective than the Emperor’s new clothes.

This realization dawned up on me while talking with a client one day. She grew up very anxious with a strict mother who brooked little dissent and made my client think there was a right way—and, of course, a wrong way—to do everything. Hence, my client’s worry about whether she should leave a job that she (more or less) hated or stick around because it produced a pretty decent paycheck. The way she figured it, her anxiety kept her constantly thinking about what was right and wrong and that’s what had contributed to her success at her job. Therefore, she was having a deuce of a time giving it up, even when it made her miserable.

However, when we delved into whether or not her anxiety was the real power behind her success at work, my client was surprised to realize that this was hardly the case. Without much prodding, she recognized that she was conscientious and tried to do her best, not just for approval, but because she valued how it felt when she did. She acknowledged that she was an excellent planner and, in spite of not liking her job, a superb problem solver. She had a gift of being tuned into others (she had learned to be, in order to not rile her mother’s ire) and turned out to be an award-winning salesperson.

She had no idea that it was these attributes, not her constant anxiety, that made her successful in her career. Here, all along she’d thought it was because she thought so carefully about what was “right” and “wrong.” She’d attributed her success to her constant hypervigilance, when it turns out that she had some stellar life and work skills.

Do you credit anxiety for things going well in your life? Do you fear that if you give it up, you stop succeeding? Anxiety might have been useful long ago, and it may have actually made you do as well as you do, but its teaching days are long over. If it taught you to plan well and consider consequences, good for it. If it made you have a bit of self-doubt and the ability to see two sides of an issue, bravo. If it pushed you to go slowly and assess your options, hurray. Now that you’ve honed these qualities, it’s time to enjoy what they do for you and let your useless anxiety go.

Having compassion for others is a positive, humane quality, but it must be balanced out with compassion for self: I don’t want you to hurt and I don’t want to hurt either. It also must be balanced out with good judgment. I can’t tell you how many times clients tell me they’ve done inappropriate things for others all because “I felt badly for them.” What is missing in this reasoning is what any particular act will do to you. Sometimes it will harm you outwardly and sometimes it will take its toll inwardly, making you feel like a fool when you think you should have known better.

So, yes, show those who are suffering compassion, but watch that you don’t go overboard and end up hurting yourself.

Karen R. Koenig, M.Ed., LCSW, is an international, award-winning author of seven books on eating, weight and body image, a psychotherapist with 30 years of experience, a health educator, and a popular blogger. Her expertise is in eating psychology and helping over-eaters and binge-eaters improve their self-care and become “normal” eaters. She lives and practices in Sarasota, Florida.
Visit her website

What Genetics Have to Do With Eating Disorders

Are you one of those that feel like you must go to a thousand stores to find the perfect “jeans” without taking into consideration whether it fits your “genes”?  What we generally fail to recognize is that thousands of years of genetic makeup cannot be altered by “perfect” eating, supplement taking or hours spent exercising so you can fit into your ideal “jeans”.  However, you can either: change your jeans, rock your Mom jeans (click here for a good laugh) or accept how your “genes” look in any pair of “jeans”!

A case in point was the unfortunate news when Bob Harper suffered a heart attack while exercising at his New York gym. Bob Harper has been the face of “perfectionism” with his gospel preaching of clean eating and fitness. Harper reported during his interview on Fox News, "I fainted one time in the gym, I started having these dizzy spells and I just kind of overlooked them. I just adapted which was one of the dumbest things to do. I kicked myself over and over again about that.” In another interview, it was revealed that Bob’s mother had a heart attack around the same age and upon genetic testing was found to have high levels of lipoprotein A.

When I compare genetics and how they associate with health, strangely my mind wanders to a Ron White skit at Thanksgiving dinner with his siblings (now before you panic where I am going with this-HOLD ON). While I have no siblings of my own, my husband does. His sister is a geneticist, his brother is a judge, and my husband is the funeral director. These siblings share genetics (DNA) but are vastly different in their personalities, looks, and careers, yet each brings different lenses on how to view life and health.

Brandi, my sister-in-law (geneticist) studies how genes evolve over time and has a great understanding of what the likelihood you will have a health risk is or the probability that you'll be diagnosed with a health condition. My brother-in-law, Jim (judge), is a judge in a true sense. He excells in listening to both sides of a story as to what is uncontrollable (genetics) and what can be controlled (environment/behavior). Last but not least, my husband, the funeral director, probably has the most valuable lesson of all….. I will save that for the end!

Just as Bob Harper could not eat and exercise his way out of a heart attack, individuals cannot “willpower” their way out of an eating disorder, “eat clean” enough to control their cholesterol, think enough “positive thoughts” to overcome panic/anxiety, or simply “count their blessings” to overcome addictions. For people to accept living in the body given to them, they must consider their genetics (DNA). 

A person inherits genes from each parent, as well as the cultural /socioeconomic experiences from his/her family. Inherited genetic variation within families clearly contributes both directly and indirectly to the pathogenesis of a disease.

Here are a few examples of genetic influences:

• The University of Iowa and the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center studied single families in which eating disorders were common across generations. They found that people with mutations in two different genes – ESRRA and HDAC4 – had a 90 percent and 85 percent chance of developing an eating disorder, respectively.

• A study published in the June 2013 issue of the Journal of Anxiety Disorders underscored that certain anxiety traits correlated with panic disorder are evident by the age of 8.

• Many other health conditions have strong genetic links: obesity “thrifty” gene; alcoholism, breast cancer, & heart health.

So why does my husband, the funeral director, have the most to learn from? While you can’t control or change your genes, you can control how you choose to live your life. At funerals, you will hear stories of those with longevity and prosperous lives and how they didn't sweat the small stuff and accepted that there are just some things you can’t change except maybe those mom jeans. Besides, when you take that last breath you won’t, nor would you likely want to be remembered for your cholesterol number, pounds lost on diet or your perfect eating.

Rebecca McConville, MS, RD, LD, CSSD is a Master’s Level Registered Dietitian & a Board Certified Sports Specialist. She specializes in the treatment of anorexia, bulimia, compulsive overeating & exercise addiction. She also treats the female athlete triad & athlete-associated disordered eating. Becca understands that the drive for peak performance may lead to disordered eating. Her goal is to help you fuel your body, so that you can fuel your life! Visit her website.

How Yoga Can Help You Return to Your Senses in Eating Disorder Recovery

Photo Credit: Marion Michele

I was 18, pulled from my sophomore year of college, and on my way to inpatient treatment for the first time. I sat in the backseat of the car, curled up in my mother’s arms, cold, weak, and desperately afraid.

I have one distinct memory from that ride to Philadelphia: driving past the old Nabisco factory, which, until it closed in 2015, had filled the entire neighborhood for decades with the smell of sugar cookies. As a child, that smell and the cookies the factory produced were mouthwatering. A source of pure joy. An innocent pleasure. That day the sweetness in the air was a cruel joke. I couldn't bear it. I rocked in panic, my throat closed, I moaned, cried, and buried my face as deep into my mother’s side as I possibly could.

That was the first time my sense of smell had been so intensely stimulated in a while, and it petrified me. Starvation had numbed me and compromised my senses. The fear of smells and tastes were paralyzing. My vision was blurry, and I could only hear my eating disorder voice. All other sounds were muffled in the background.

It’s only through looking back on that memory 20 years later, that I understand how anorexia literally desensitized me. As we all know, our eating disorders serve a precise function: to protect. Along the descent into eating disorder hell, protection turns into destruction, leaving us isolated in the torment.

“We hollow out physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Sensation is unwelcome. Feeling is not the point.”

In my experience, the healing process from an eating disorder is a tumultuous effort of learning how to “sense” again—how to sense hunger cues, emotions, our bodies, our intuition, and how we feel in relationships. It’s also a return to our literal senses, sensations, and sensory experiences. In many ways, this aspect of healing—returning to our senses—is what resuscitates our souls by bringing color, textures, and richness back into our lives.

How do we go from numb to sensory human beings?

I find it to be an ongoing process that requires support, patience, and resilience. In my healing, yoga has helped me return to my senses in profound ways. For me, yoga is a safe place to learn how to feel and name sensations that happen in my body. In half pigeon pose I sense an intense stretch in my hip, in forward folds I feel discomfort in my hamstrings, and in triangle pose I notice the sensation of expansion. The more I have become comfortable identifying, naming, and sitting with physical sensations that arise in my body, the easier and more natural it becomes to name and feel emotions, even the painful ones.

The practice of naming physical sensations can be applied to other activities as well. My advice is to find an activity that you enjoy and take stock every so often of what you feel and where you feel it. Name the sensation. Become familiar with it. Observe it. This skill will become useful for naming emotions and experiencing them versus turning to symptoms to banish them.

I recognize that naming sensations in our bodies can aggravate or cause turmoil around body image. Even so, healing requires we name those feelings too. Part of regaining our senses is also knowing and defining our limits. Trust your instincts around when and how often to practice identifying sensations.

“Like all aspects of healing, returning to our senses is also a process.”

Yoga has also helped me develop my sense of sight. Before I used to stare down food like I would an enemy. Or I'd avert my eyes, turn away from what was fearful. In yoga, we often talk about keeping the eyes soft to embody a sense of ease and calm. I’ve noticed that when my eyes are soft (meaning I am not scrunching up my forehead to fiercely concentrate), my thoughts are kinder. I judge, berate, and demand less. I am more open to the sensory experience of the pose and less concerned about controlling the outcome.

Applying soft eyes in difficult life moments has often made the difference between making a positive choice versus an unhealthy one. Soft eyes have also helped me to stand in front of the mirror and see myself from all angles with compassion.

On a final note, as I recall the Nabisco factory and the difficulty it caused me that day, I can’t help but smile when I imagine how happy the smell would make my two little girls, how much it would light them up, and how they would beg me to stop for cookies. Children have the most beautiful relationship with their senses; automatic, curious, simple, and joyful. Little ones represent the model of what’s possible for all things good. They remind me how much more fun sensational is than numb.

Jennifer Kreatsoulas, PhD, RYT 500 is the founder of Chime Yoga Therapy and specializes in eating disorders and body image. In addition to her private yoga therapy practice, Jennifer leads yoga therapy groups at the Monte Nido Eating Disorder Center of Philadelphia, is cofounder of the Body Kindness Project, and a partner with both the Yoga and Body Image Coalition and the Transformation Yoga Project. She is the creator of the home video series Yoga to Strengthen Body Image and Support Eating Disorder Recovery. Her writing on the topics of yoga, body image, motherhood, and eating disorder recovery can be found on her blog as well as several influential online publications.  Connect with Jennifer.

The Phantom Pain of Trauma

Photo Credit: Joshua Fuller

Let’s talk about trauma.

Not all trauma looks like a war veteran who hits the ground when a car backfires. (Although that is very real and very frightening).

Some trauma looks more like scar tissue. Or like a vine that has wrapped around a tree trunk. It grows with you, shapes you, distorts the way you branch out into the world.

Over time it becomes a part of you. You barely even feel it anymore. There are only subtle traces of it — maybe a nagging ache in an otherwise happy moment, or a dark thought that surfaces from seemingly nowhere.

Not feeling is not the same as healing.

It simply means you’ve accommodated it, made just enough room in you for the two of you to coexist. (Often, trauma pays its rent in drugs, alcohol, or food.) But the result is that you move through life without ever knowing why you act the way you do. Why you never managed to grow out of that propensity to self-sabotage or self-destruct.

Trauma, left untreated, changes who you are and how you look at the world. (After all, trauma by definition is a type of damage to the mind that occurs in response to an event that exceeds one’s ability to cope.) Your primary goal — conscious or not — becomes shielding yourself from experiencing that perceived threat ever again. Even if it means withdrawing from the people around you. Or turning to booze, drugs, food, sex, and whatever else can dampen your overtaxed emotions (or the opposite — can dissolve the fog and let you feel something).

The pain of trauma doesn’t always come from the content of a memory or flashback. Sometimes the pain you’re trying to “escape” (as the doctors say) is the accumulation of bad choices you continuously make to regulate yourself. The pain of loneliness after intimacy became too risky. The pain of self-doubt when your thoughts and feelings seem alien. The pain of chronic stress and anxiety that churns your gut because, if the trauma occurred early enough, you didn’t develop the coping strategies that other people use to manage life’s normal oscillations.

Trauma isn’t always nightmares and intrusive memories. Some trauma is more insidious. It’s not the direct pain of an open wound, but the phantom pain of growth that never occurred. And until you deal with it, your movement will be forever restricted.

I’m learning to move freely through the world.

Joanna Kay is a New York City writer and social media professional in recovery from a 14-year battle with anorexia. She is the author of The Middle Ground, a blog that chronicles the period between completing treatment and reaching full recovery. Having encountered many hurdles accessing treatment, she also writes frequently about insurance coverage and other urgent issues facing eating disorder patients. Joanna is a mental health advocate with the National Eating Disorders Association and writes and speaks widely about the recovery process. Visit her blog.

6 Simple Tips to Manage Eating Disorder Recovery on Vacation

Photo Credit: Slava Bowman

You're away from home. You may not have a kitchen. You might be traveling to a place with foreign foods. Your schedule might be thrown off by long travel times, different activities, and time zone changes. While vacations are exciting for most people, for those of us in recovery from eating disorders, they can be more than a little stressful.

It can be tempting to say, "It's okay, I'll just figure it out as I go," but why take the risk? Having a plan may feel a little square, but it's better to have a plan so you can relax if things are going well than to struggle and have no plan for getting back on track. Whether you're heading abroad or traveling closer to home, here are some tips to manage vacation time in eating disorder recovery.

Tip #1 - Communication

Funnily enough, one of the most important factors in eating disorder recovery is also one of the most important factors in travel - communication. Talk to your travel buddy about your needs and concerns. If you need to stop and eat at regular intervals, talk about that. If you're planning on doing something outside of your comfort zone (trying a new food, wearing a bathing suit in public), talk about how they can support you.

Be very clear about what you need, and about what you DON'T need. Sometimes it can add stress to have someone asking about your food choices, and monitoring your bathroom usage. If your buddy is checking up on you more than they need to, you can communicate that, too.  "Thanks for checking in, but I've worked out a plan for this part of things. I'll let you know if I need any support outside of what we discussed."

Talking openly about this stuff will set your mind at ease and, most likely, theirs, too. Navigating eating disorders can be tricky - for you, and for those supporting you. Having a clear plan, and knowing how everyone fits into it, can really help make everyone more comfortable.

Tip #2 - Research

Something else you and your travel buddy can do together before you go is research. Figure out where you're staying, and what the food prep options are there. Will you have a kitchen? A mini-fridge? Is breakfast included? Knowing whether you can prepare some of your own meals or if you'll be dining out almost exclusively can help you plan.

You can also look into what restaurants are available near you. Check out the menus, choose a few options that look good to you at each, and write down some places you'd like to try. You don't have to schedule which ones to dine at when, but it's helpful to have choices narrowed down so you don't get overwhelmed. Think of it as "planned spontaneity".

Tip #3 - Do A Test Run

If you're traveling somewhere that has different food options than you're used to, do a test run before you leave. Let's say, for example, you're traveling to Japan. You'd like to try sushi there, but it's not something that you usually eat. Do a test run, in a safe way, before you go. Go to a local sushi restaurant and try a few different varieties. If there isn't a Japanese restaurant in your town, try making a fish and rice-based meal at home.

Get used to the flavors, and investigate how that type of meal works for you. Did you order enough, or would you need a side or another roll to make a satisfactory meal? Did you feel energized after, or were you a little sleepy? This can help you determine where sushi fits into your day when traveling.

Tip #4 - Pack Some Favorites

Even the best-laid plans sometimes go awry. Your flight might be delayed. You may sleep through your alarm and have to rush to the next activity. You may just need the comfort of a familiar food. So pack some.

While I would wholeheartedly encourage you to try new things as often as you can, I recognize that it's not always possible. Having some travel-safe snacks on hand can really help you out in those moments. Take along some protein bars, trail mix, crackers, etc. that you can eat on-the-go, or when things get stressful. Then, plan to get back on the horse. Cook something, order in, or go to a restaurant. Just try not to rely on packed snacks the whole rest of your trip.

Tip #5 - Keep Things (ahem) Moving

Travel can wreak havoc on the digestive system. It's not anything permanent, but constipation and its associated bloating can be triggering for those in recovery. Make sure you're drinking an adequate amount of water, eating some fibrous foods like veggies or beans – don't neglect your fats – and take a walk around the block when you can. You can also talk to your team before you go about the best strategy for you, if constipation hits.

At the end of the day, try not to stress about it. (Easier said than done, I know) Make sure you've packed some stretchy-waisted pants, and try to stay mindful whenever possible. You're hanging with some cool people, seeing some really awesome stuff. Try not to let the only memories you make be of digestive stress.

Tip #6 - Roll With The Punches

No matter how well you plan, there will always be something you didn't see coming. Whether it's a lost pair of sunglasses or a snack you hadn't anticipated, try your best to stay flexible. Breathe, use your buddy for support, and dive in.

Life is all about the unexpected, as is travel, as is recovery. Your challenge will be to keep moving forward, and trying to find the enjoyment wherever you can. Who knows? Maybe that wrong street you turn down will lead you to an amazing view you wouldn't have seen otherwise. Keep your eyes and heart open, and bon voyage!

Kelly Boaz, CNP is a Toronto-based Holistic Nutritionist (CNP), specializing in eating disorder recovery and food freedom. After winning her 17-year battle with anorexia, Kelly Boaz turned her life’s focus to helping others do the same. She is also a writer and speaker (TEDx, TDSB), raising eating disorder awareness, and helping people heal their relationship with food and their bodies. You can find out more about Kelly, or get in touch via her website.

Are You Managing an Eating Disorder or Healing from One?

Photo Credit: Catherine McMahon

“I’m not going to help you manage an eating disorder,” my dietician flat out said to me shortly after I discharged from intensive outpatient treatment. “I’ll continue to work with you, but I won’t help you be a functioning anorexic.”

Whoa! Harsh, right? Brutally harsh, I’d say.

Her words hit me hard in the gut. I felt nauseas and defensive. I was at once insulted and found out by her remarks. After months of inpatient, day, and IOP treatment, and a commitment to long-term outpatient work with my team, I was insulted that my integrity and dedication to recovery wasn’t obvious. Had I not just left my family for a month, taken leave from my job, eaten meals I was terrified of, gained weight, persevered through calorie increases and exercise restriction, and turned myself inside out every day to heal my mind and body? Honestly, what else did she or anyone else want from me?

Still, way, way deep down, I knew my dietician was right. Yes, I had done and accomplished quite a bit during all that treatment; no one was taking that away from me. However, I admit, at the time, living as a “functioning anorexic” was quite appealing. The perfect solution.

If I could pull off being a “little sick and a little well,” if I could do just enough to keep my team and my family off my back, then surely, I’d be “doing” recovery. I’d just be doing it on my terms—or, I should say, the eating disorder’s terms. I’d prevent weight gain, still have room for a little hunger, and feel in charge of my life.

Living this way did not get me very far, and it wasn’t long before I was weary of performing, pretending, and being untruthful to myself and those I love. Merely functioning wasn’t as “safe” as I’d thought it would be. In fact, it was the exact opposite, as the threat of returning to treatment consistently came back in play every few weeks.

I may have dabbled with how “recovered” I was willing to be, but there was positively no way I would settle for being a chronically ill mother and wife. That’s where I drew the line.

And so, I kicked myself into gear by taking a more genuine and sincere approach to healing from rather than merely managing the eating disorder. I did this by adopting the attitude that recovery is a lifestyle, not a side job or something “extra” we must do.

Between therapy appointments and going to groups and keeping food logs, recovery can feel like a time-consuming side job. Over time, this attitude toward recovery can cause us to become resentful. The more resentful we become, the less motivated we are to keep up our efforts.  

When respected as a lifestyle, recovery serves as the foundation from which we must attend to everything in our lives to keep us well and moving forward. To make recovery a lifestyle, I strive to let every choice I make be informed by this question: Is “x” going to support me in my healing or is it going to work against me?

Reflecting on this question guides me to honesty with myself about the people, places, and things in my life that merely help me manage an eating disorder versus those that support me in healthful ways. I choose to avoid the landmines and replace them with things that empower me and build me up. It’s not always easy, but this system of self-accountability has made a profound difference in my approach to recovery and deepened my commitment to myself.

Take a pause and ask yourself: Am I managing or healing the eating disorder? Are there thoughts, rituals, and behaviors in place that covertly are in cahoots with the eating disorder?

There’s no shame in your answer. What’s most important is taking this time to get brutally honest with yourself. I encourage you to tap into your resilience and slowly but steadily begin to loosen the grip on things that do not serve you in healthful ways and replace them with thoughts, rituals, and behaviors that do.

As you shift away from the “functioning” and “managing” mentality and embrace an intention of healing, life will ultimately become more filled with you and the goodness you have to offer this world—your gifts, talents, and passions. And I promise you, it is so worth it!  

Jennifer Kreatsoulas, PhD, RYT 500 is the founder of Chime Yoga Therapy and specializes in eating disorders and body image. In addition to her private yoga therapy practice, Jennifer leads yoga therapy groups at the Monte Nido Eating Disorder Center of Philadelphia, is cofounder of the Body Kindness Project, and a partner with both the Yoga and Body Image Coalition and the Transformation Yoga Project. She is the creator of the home video series Yoga to Strengthen Body Image and Support Eating Disorder Recovery. Her writing on the topics of yoga, body image, motherhood, and eating disorder recovery can be found on her blog as well as several influential online publications.  Connect with Jennifer.

More Than Weight Has Been Gained

Image Source: Pexels

The Road to Residential

Two years ago today, at 5 a.m. on a frozen Tuesday morning, my fiancé and I rented a car and drove 100 miles from New York City to Philadelphia, where I would be entering residential treatment for anorexia. I’d been in a day treatment program for a little more than seven weeks by that point, but it had become clear that I needed more help. My weight, already dangerously low, hadn’t budged, so my treatment team determined that my best chance at recovery would be in a 24/7 care facility.

I had no idea how long I would be gone. I didn’t tell anyone what was happening. With the exception of my fiancé, my mother, and my therapist, everyone assumed I was safe and sound in New York City going to work and planning my wedding. Not even my bridal party — who by January were finalizing dresses and accessories — knew that their texts to me were, in fact, being answered by my fiancé, because I was not allowed to keep my cell phone at the treatment center.

I worried that I wouldn’t be discharged in time for my bridal shower and I’d have to find a way to explain my absence. I worried what would happen when I arrived at my first dress fitting with vastly different measurements than the ones that had been ordered for me months earlier, while my weight was plummeting.

Nothing was certain other than the fact that we were on the road and there was no turning back. From the passenger seat, I watched the city skyline recede in the side mirror and tried not to think too much about the radical action I was undertaking.

More Than Weight Has Been Gained

When I wrote about this day last year, I was only just starting to realize how much I had lost to my eating disorder in the eleven years before I walked into treatment. I felt sad thinking about the frightened, confused, empty young woman I was.

Now, in this second year, I’m conscious of how much I’ve gained throughout this recovery process. I’ve gained physical health, emotional wellbeing, and mental strength. I’ve gained friends and community, as well as meaning and purpose. Perhaps most important of all, I’ve gained a more intimate and honest relationship with my husband, which I wouldn’t have been capable of having if I were still preoccupied with my disordered inner life.

For all of this, I feel immensely grateful to the team of people that has helped me along the way. These treatment providers — therapists, nutritionists, psychiatrists, counselors, mentors, and more — are truly heroic. I am alive because of the care I’ve received from them.

In this spirit, I want to share an interview with you, because I think it demonstrates what I’m saying here. I recently had the opportunity to speak with Dr. David Susman, a clinical psychologist who runs a website dedicated to mental health, wellness, and recovery from mental illness and addiction. Dr. Susman regularly posts “Stories of Hope” on his site, and he was kind enough to include me in his latest installment.

Click here to read the Q&A, “Living in the ‘Middle Ground’ of Recovery.”

(Thank you again, David!!)

The Only Way to Heal

Along with the gratitude, I can’t help but re-experience some of what I was thinking and feeling about on this day last year. The thing is, I don’t feel these emotions as sharply as I did then. I’ve spent a solid amount of time in therapy feeling and processing and then feeling again, because that is the only way to heal.

Leaning into these feelings seems to be working. Each day, I feel a little less angry that anorexia is part of my life story. A little less afraid of a future without weight loss as my go-to coping mechanism. A little more convinced that this eating disorder will be a chapter of my life and not my entire story. I’ve begun to make peace with this whole ordeal.

Thank you for joining me on this journey.

Joanna Kay is a New York City writer and social media professional in recovery from a 14-year battle with anorexia. She is the author of The Middle Ground, a blog that chronicles the period between completing treatment and reaching full recovery. Having encountered many hurdles accessing treatment, she also writes frequently about insurance coverage and other urgent issues facing eating disorder patients. Joanna is a mental health advocate with the National Eating Disorders Association and writes and speaks widely about the recovery process. Visit her blog.

What Guilt Has to Do With Embracing Your Authentic Self

Has your self-help turned into self-criticism? Read this article featuring the first part of my interview with Danielle LaPorte, author of White Hot Truth.

Are You Free?

“How has your day planner changed and morphed with this revelation?” I ask, hoping she’ll send me a screenshot of her week ahead to verify the transformation.

Instead, she delivers something much sweeter, “There’s an inner-peace now, a calmness, and a feeling of spaciousness. There’s room to be myself. Room for the answers to show up. Room to change my mind. I’m no longer attached to others beliefs. Time has expanded.”

With all that talk of inner-peace—still an ever-elusive concept to me—I wanted to ensure I was getting the real deal. Knowing Danielle was raised Catholic, much like myself, and a working mother, I needed to test out her humanness; make sure she wasn’t this fully enlightened spiritual anomaly, but a legit woman like me who swirls around a shit storm of emotions on the regular. Clearly, it’s not cool to ask someone, “Are you for real? Can I trust that what you’re dishing out is reliable and authentic?” Instead, you gracefully enter a side door and ask about guilt. Why guilt? Because as women, the willingness to openly talk about what doubles us over with guilt is a litmus test for authenticity I’ve found reliable time and again.

“I noticed you mentioned the “G” word earlier, what’s your relationship like with guilt?”

There’s a pause. I notice this pattern in our brief time together. It’s not my sense she desires to give a perfect answer to prop herself up, but more a need to be precise and honest. It takes courage to pause long enough to check in with yourself to offer clarity. 

“It’s always there, but I’ve got it in check. Guilt is part of having a conscience. Guilt is part of being a loving, caring person. When you expand you’re going to bump up against other people. Someone’s feelings are going to get hurt. You’re going to erect some boundaries. It won't be easy. As you choose what’s most loving for yourself you create disharmony which may create some guilt. I feel less and less guilty about the hurt feelings that occur from making healthy choices for myself.”

I snuggled in a little more to her realness. Her truth is also mine. Guilt lives right here inside of us all AND, it doesn’t have to be a current that takes us under.

“Saying no for me is pretty clear. I don’t want to go backward. Saying yes when I mean no leads to exhaustion. There is a very basic equation when determining where to spend my time: Social media or my kid? An extra hour of sleep or a book review? Getting sick or pleasing someone else? Saying no becomes much easier when health is your priority.”

Loving her more with each #truthbomb I secretly wished we were sitting on her deck, instead of me sitting on the floor of my office, criss-cross applesauce. “Danielle, when do you feel most disconnected?”

“When I’m not being feminine. When I shift from being this juicy fluid girl, to being too harsh, abrupt, or abrasive I feel instant regret. I replay the incident over and over in my head sometimes for the next couple of days. Eventually, I let it go and endeavor not to do it again; until the next time.”

We both crack up laughing because this is white hot truth. Screwing up and then making peace with yourself is exactly what it means to be on a spiritual journey. We mess up, get out of alignment, and then, with courage we forgive ourselves, let it go, move on, and then circle around it again, because guess what, we are human and this is our work. The goal, the evolution, perhaps the revolution, is not to spin out for two days forever, maybe you cut it down to two hours, but we get back into alignment with more ease.

“I was recently talking to my shrink about this very situation and how gross it felt. She shared with me that you are becoming more yourself and you step out of that space it’s even more noticeable. You can hardly bear the lie.”

I feel her truth in my bones. My heart whispers, “Mmm. Hmm. Just like me…”

“May I Shine So that Other’s May Shine As Well.”

I asked Danielle to open our conversation with an intention. “May this conversation bear the truth of light that helps other people see their capacity to grow. May everything that comes of this be all about love and clarity. And so it is.”

You can soak up more of Danielle on her website where you’ll also find her book.

Hungry for more?

*Part 1 in this blog series can be found here.

Angie Viets, LCP is an author and clinical psychotherapist in private practice. She specializes in the treatment of eating disorders, body image, and overeating. Angie is dedicated to empowering others to nurture their body, mend their relationship with food, and to embody their most authentic self. Her passion for the field was born out of her own hard-won battle with an eating disorder. She believes that full recovery is possible! Read more.

Danielle LaPorte’s White Hot Truth Soothes Self-Help Fatigue

Source: Unsplash/Annie Spratt

Has your self-help turned into self-criticism?

The self-help struggle is real. Collectively we search for the truth, our path, and purpose from the outside in. We seek answers from psychologists, psychics, and priests without slowing and softening to the wisest guru of all: Ourselves. During my sultry conversation with Danielle LaPorte about her newly released book, White Hot Truth, she shed some light, because, as she says “it’s all about the light,” on how she became her own guru.

Danielle vividly explained the moment when she realized she was at a “jarring juncture: the conflict between sincere spiritual aspiration and the compulsion to improve.” As she opened her day planner and saw upcoming appointments with a shaman, psychotherapist, and astrologist, along with scheduled massages and yoga classes, she had a revelatory moment where she realized “all of this self-helping was becoming a bit of a burden and impinging on my ability to create with a capital C. Spirituality was becoming just another thing on my f*ing to-do list.”

Through breathy prose she broke down how she questioned her spiritual quest and transformed her to-do list, thus creating freedom and fluidity. With her lyrical lathering in full force (by the way, I highly recommend the audio version of the book; you can thank me later) I noticed my shoulders settling into their natural position, less like accessories for my ears, more gliding down my back like wings. My breath eased its way into a gentle rhythm as I physically released the anxiety of my own daunting self-help regimen.

What is this feeling overcoming me as this diva I’ve admired for years (and secretly channeled in moments of insecurity) – thanks to her rockstar books like The Desire Map and The Firestarter Sessions – reveals her process and progress (because, as she says in her Canadian accent, “everything is progress”) to me? Ah, yes, it’s relief! Relief that there’s another way. Relief that we can still be self-evolving, spiritual seekers, without stressing ourselves out on the regular. Without drowning ourselves in green juice cleanses and repeatedly clearing our chakras. We can liberate ourselves from the perpetual spiritual striving through discernment and self-love. Finally!

“It’s Not How We Seek Spiritual Growth; It’s Why We Seek It.”

Many of us, myself included, are drawn to the vast sea of self-help. Investing copious amounts of cash to feel free. We sign up for the lightworker retreat, past life regression, and some oh-so-necessary karmic healing. Yet, ultimately—I’m speaking from my own decades worth of psychotherapy, angel card readings, and psychic sessions—it wasn’t ever quite what my soul needed to truly heal. Why? Because everything I thought I could find ‘out there’ was already inside me. I’d become dependent, tethered actually, to the feedback from others that only I could best offer myself. What once was a young woman chained to an eating disorder like a dog on a leash, was now someone addicted to guidance from experts. Looking to strangers to tell me about…me. Someone who could only get quiet and still in a yoga studio. I was missing the point.

It’s painful to be lost, for sure. However, suffering is waiting for someone else to bring you home when you knew the way all along. You don’t need to wait until next Wednesday at 2 p.m., or head to an ashram to get clarity about your path, because, as Danielle says, “the best self-help is self-compassion.” Guess what, it’s free!

Self-Help or Self-Hate?

When Danielle described, in her alluringly poetic way, that underneath all of our self-helping is a whole hell of a lot of self-hatred I heard myself silently screaming, “Hell ya, sister! Preach!” I mentally scanned the thousands of self-help books I’ve purchased in an attempt to transcend whatever self-imposed trap I was caught in. Books with promising titles like, 10 Steps to Radical Self-Acceptance, left me feeling frantic as they gathered dust on my nightstand. Why do I continue to buy into the notion that a book, sermon, or healer holds the key to unlock the door to my evolution? Probably because it seemed easier.

Without question, I’m devoted to spiritual growth, healing suffering (my own and others), and tending to my psyche and soul. There’s nothing inherently wrong with these soul goals, unless, they disempower you, or require you to disown your deeply held inner wisdom. Seek the counsel of others as a conduit to connecting with your truth, not as a means to adopt others' truth about you.

Compulsive Self-Improvement     

Danielle believes, “We are driven by the compulsion to improve. We all look so healthy on the outside, but we’re really actually pretty neurotic on the inside.”

Danielle is clear that she didn’t ditch her spiritual to-do list entirely, she’s found a more useful sequencing of priorities. “Self-referencing is a lifelong journey. I meditate daily, pray, or engage in some sort of contemplation. It’s like brushing my teeth, it has to happen.” Therapy continues to be on her agenda, but it’s evident she’s no longer reliant on it to make a decision.

White Hot Truth is the permission we all need to check in with ourselves deeply, with reverence, and to listen to the wisdom of our bodies and souls. We don’t have to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Keep the yoga class if it serves you. Call the astrologist if you’re in the mood. But let’s stop the perpetual insanity of striving to perfect what was never intended to be perfect. Let’s greet ourselves—our messy, sometimes arrogant, or inconsiderate selves—with compassion, gratitude, and unabashed acceptance. We have everything we need. Already. We are wholly (or holy) enough even when we feel dreadfully inadequate. Beautiful even when we feel broken. The solution is not out there, my love, it’s right here inside. Go talk to the part of yourself that knows. Find her on the trail alongside the river. Find him in the pauses, those quiet moments in between. Sit in your own company and dwell there long enough to remember yourself. That’s the way home. Those are the moments where we hear the truth. Lean on others for support, yes, but don’t let their interpretation or analysis be your sole compass.

Get White Hot Truth!

Hungry for more?

*Part 2 in this blog series will be published on Tuesday, May 23rd, 2017

*I'd love to inspire you to take the next step on your path to recovered and send you my free weekly Recovery Tip videos. Please visit my website to sign up.

Angie Viets, LCP is an author and clinical psychotherapist in private practice. She specializes in the treatment of eating disorders, body image, and overeating. Angie is dedicated to empowering others to nurture their body, mend their relationship with food, and to embody their most authentic self. Her passion for the field was born out of her own hard-won battle with an eating disorder. She believes that full recovery is possible! Read more.

Leaning Into Yourself: Abandoning Fear & Embracing Yourself

Source: Arno Smit/Unsplash

We’re all just walking each other home. - Ram Dass

We went around the room, one by one answering the question proposed by our graduate school professor in the Counseling Psychology program I’d recently been accepted into: “Once you complete your master’s and doctoral degrees, what do you intend to do?” Perpetually anxious, I hyperventilated as each member of my cohort detailed their future research plans, careers in academia, and other equally intimidating (and boring, in my opinion) pursuits.

“Angie, what about you?” Dr. Wesley asked sincerely, his head slightly tilted while he awaited the response of yet another ambitious scholar.

“Um, the truth is this is my backup plan.” Oh, God! Holy shit. Did I really just say that? “I mean, I’d like to become a therapist one day, but my real calling is to be a mother.”

Two seconds and twelve hundred heart palpitations later, he moved on awkwardly to the more sophisticated classmate to the right of me who whispered in my ear, “That was awesome!”

Graduate school was a series of humiliating moments, much like this one. Thankfully, despite my profound lack of interest in things like Multivariate Statistics, Research Methods, and Cognitive Neuroscience, I fell in love with courses like Approaches to Psychotherapy and Psychopathology, Group Dynamics, and how we develop and form attachments. In the midst of classes, papers, and presentations, I also made deeply personal and meaningful relationships with my peers, which come to find out is an essential component for healing others.

During graduate school, I got engaged, married, and had my first baby, in quick succession. While my peers wrote their dissertations, I wrote thank-you cards for wedding and baby showers. As they accepted internships, I accepted—for the first time since childhood—my body and its majestic ability to heal itself and expand to meet the needs of a growing baby. I rooted myself in therapeutic techniques and theories, yet more importantly, I found I was most grounded by my inherent gift to nurture and nourish my baby.

I skipped graduation to attend a trip for my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary. Knowing I accomplished the goal meant more than celebrating it publicly, for this accomplishment was much bigger than most people realized. Applying and getting accepted into graduate school was my first giant leap toward recovery.

Despite my insecurity about not being smart enough to get into graduate school, my fear of starting something new and then quitting it when it got overwhelming, all the while hiding out in my illness feeling like a complete fraud as I once had, proved to be an outdated narrative. I flipped the script. I rewrote the story. I discovered I was far more capable than I ever gave myself credit for.

I recovered myself in graduate school. I recovered from an eating disorder, and I recovered to my future passion for helping others heal. There was no hospital or outpatient treatment team (although that would have been ideal). There was the enormity, and often illusory outline, of a dream of living a life beyond the fragmented abyss of an eating disorder. Even when I felt unworthy, I walked towards it. Even when I felt discouraged and defeated, I took another step. I showed up, over and over, for myself. But let me be the first to say, I was a hot mess. I was all over the place and nowhere. I was oozing out and hollow. Uncomfortable and convinced I had to keep going. It wasn’t graceful or glamorous, it was mostly gut-wrenching until it wasn’t anymore. It certainly was not perfect, but somewhere inside I knew I was reclaiming my one true self.

Something shifted later that year, however. The wedding gifts and the framed degree went unnoticed as the incessant demands of mothering ensued. My gratitude for my body’s ability to heal from an eating disorder, to grow a precious little soul, and capacity to deliver that soul into the world became overshadowed with loneliness.

Day after day my husband would leave and go out into the world where there were people, actual people that he talked to, and much to my irritation, would sometimes even have the audacity to go out to eat with them. What?

I was increasingly aware, as I meandered through Target, that this whole motherhood thing was terribly misleading. As I sat in circles with other mom’s during “Books and Babies” at the library, I heard a voice, a loud, demanding voice that said, “Get the hell out of here!”  But where would I go? “Books and Babies” felt like my one shot at connecting with other moms. Other women that maybe, just like me, were feeling like something critical was missing.

I couldn’t figure out why my whole life I had prepared for this thing that I knew without question I was called to do was equal parts misery and magical. My deepest felt sense at the time was that something was wrong with me. Why can’t I just be content with staying at home with my baby? I felt guilty, like some invisible force field of mother’s were frowning down on me, looking at each other with disgust, “Of course, it’s still not enough for her.”

As my son, Beckett, approached eighteen months I sought out and accepted my first position as a therapist at the local mental health center. I shopped daycares like my life depended on it, and in some ways it did. I needed the comfort of knowing my sweet baby would be well cared for while I went to work.

The first several weeks of dropping him off were horrific. His little body clung to me like a rabid animal desperate and afraid. I walked out into the parking lot sobbing, as other mothers hoisted themselves into their SUV’s and reapplied lipstick. I had morbid images of extracting this agony (wherever it lived in my body) and tucking it under their back tires to end the suffering.

When I was at work, I longed to be with Beckett, but when I was at home I couldn’t wait to go back to work where I could put my clinical skills to use. But no matter if I was at work or home, I believed I was failing somehow. I needed help.

My sturdy, reliable eating disorder, my method for managing such complicated feelings, was well into remission. As though handcuffed to the steering wheel I was committed not to turn back to the now rusty behaviors, eager and anxious for me to employ them. I just couldn’t. I knew in my heart, finally, that I simply was unwilling to return to a life dictated and tethered to an eating disorder. There’s got to be another way out.

Pregnancy was the ultimate invitation to heal my body. Motherhood, however, unfolded a rich tapestry woven with opportunities to heal my past and reconnect with my soul.

Fourteen years recovered, three children in my nest, and a million hours clocked in as a therapist later, I’ve reconsidered and reshaped my beliefs about what it means to be called to a profession or a role. Each whisper from our soul is beckoning us to expand, to doubt and underestimate ourselves mercilessly so that we can then more fiercely stand by our own side empowered and emboldened with the knowing that we once again exceeded our limiting beliefs and stepped into the fullest version of ourselves.

So with graduation and Mother’s Day upon us, I’m giving you one hell of an oversimplified recipe for recovery:

• Walk daily towards one of your soul’s callings.
• Watch as each step you take towards your passion you shed another thin layer of your old unhealthy ways.
• Marvel at how messy and majestic you are as you make your way.
• Lovingly acknowledge each detour and setback as the next lesson to remind you of how strong and steadfast you are despite the distractions and discouragement.
• Advocate for yourself like you would for a child.
• Allow your symptoms to guide you home.