Not perfect, but there have been some gaps in the clouds; and I am learning to let these, and the clouds themselves, be.

This has been the important bit that I had nearly forgotten how to do.

Sit with the discomfort for a little bit in order to acknowledge whatever’s going on and then learn that it passes.

Wedge a few crucial seconds in between thought and action so that I can think about whether I really want to do what I’m about to do.

Give the moments where I sit though the former and walk away from the latter room to breathe so that I don’t crush the good bits before they’ve had time to grow -

Let it be. 

So simple, and yet so hard when impulsivity and fear have been leading the way. 

To emphasise the point, the ‘fact’ on my shampoo bottles (shampoo: “who is the person you talk to most?” / conditioner: “yourself”) have concurred to make the message heard. This is clearly a subject that I am meant to be writing about –

Self-talking is something I now do on a regular basis. It kicks in, the moment my head kicks off – and seems to work through a few key themes:

Recognition

The recognition bit is around letting me know that my head has now gone off on its own merry way. It’s that little voice that says “whoa there, Melissa, what’s going on?” It recognises that things aren’t quite right; but also helps me to name the feeling by recognising where I have felt it before.

Realisation

When I have acknowledged the feeling, and realised what it is, then my self-talking voice can start to play detective, and work out where it began. This seems to involve walking my thoughts backwards to the first sense of the feeling (if possible), so that I can get some idea of how I’ve arrived at where I am.

Even if the progression is somewhat unclear.

Rationalisation

Rationalisation is the next step. It’s the voice that then chips in and points out where I’ve made some giant leaps in my thinking (like when I am catastrophising or have forgotten the colour grey) – or why it actually makes sense that I am feeling how I am (because I am hurt, or angry, for example), and that this is totally okay.

Reminding

Then comes the reminding. The reminder that I have been here before – and coped just fine. The reminder of the people and thoughts that I can turn to when I need a little support. The reminder that feelings are just feelings, and this too, will pass.

Makes sense.

But it doesn’t stop there! My self-talking has also developed a range of tones and approaches so that it can be doubly sure of being heard. Different feelings, times, and contexts, inevitably require different types of talk.

Compassion

This is the kind voice. It listens to what I’m saying and reassures me that it is okay. It is characterised by positivity (“you can do this”), and compassion (“you deserve to do this”), and reassurance (“I promise that you’ll be okay”).

Practical

This voice gives me ideas. It helps me when I can’t find the energy, and focuses on proactive help.

Minus the word “should”.

Practical is “calling a friend made you feel better last time you were alone” and “plan something for tomorrow if you’re feeling lonely today” and “you’ll feel better if you have a shower or give yourself a little TLC”. It’s the voice that I quite often want to tell to shut up – but is, very often, right.

Therapist

This voice is a professional. It helps me to unravel – and then resolve – what’s going on. It is closely linked to the realisation and rationalisation stages, and characterised by questions (“what are you feeling?”), and honesty (“what are you really feeling?”), and teasing things out –

So that they can then go away.

Cheerleader

This one’s still undeveloped, but I am marking it’s space. It is about cheering me on, and fighting my corner, and taking over the things that I normally wait for other people to say!

Perspective

This voice is the perspective, an objective take on what’s going on. It reminds me to look at the bigger picture, when I’m stuck on a detail; or the smaller picture, when I can’t see where it will all end.

*    *    *

So, that’s a whistlestop tour of what’s often going on my head – and I’d be really interested in hearing how other people have developed their ability to self-talk, or if they use any other techniques instead?

Related stuff: Self-talking and not self-harming; Self Management and Resisting Relapse.

If you’d given me a web address or a self help book a few years back, I’d have turned my nose straight up.

There was a certain arrogance to my eating disorder (what would they know?) that sneered at self help (like it’s that easy) and people who claimed to “understand”; an automatic scepticism towards shop brought solutions and the hollowness of a few positive words that couldn’t possibly appreciate my pain –

I might have been wrong.

Since starting to engage with the world, I’ve come back to earth with a resounding bang. Contrary to my previous belief, I am not unique; I am, in fact, quite a predictable human being –

And, because I am not totally unique; and, as I appear to– whether I like it or not – fall under the category of regular human being, the advice and support and suggestions that I deemed irrelevant might actually have been useful.

Self help, as the name infers, might well have helped –

Which was possibly the problem.

Fortunately, when it came to tackling a few other little “issues” (nicotine addiction, the quest for happiness, and a touch of OCD) I was a little more open to guidance; and, self help slipped in the back way.

Whilst I wasn’t quite prepared to read what the eating disorder experts wrote and I was a touch scathing (or scared) of any food related advice, I was more open to a little habit-busting and happiness-finding and general change-your-life type guidance; and, the approach to change shares a few features –

So, although I’m probably preaching to the converted, and it’s more than likely that the other sceptics out there have already clicked off; I’m just going to summarise a few of the features that I wish I’d considered before turning my nose up and walking away.

A good description: From what I can gather, most self help books seem to start with a description of the problem. Whilst this could be interpreted as stating the obvious and generalisations can be a little off-putting; reading a well written synopsis helps to create a little objective distance. It can be strangely reassuring – and quite relieving – to see what you’re going through written in black and white; and, sometimes, it’s easier to admit to an experience through the medium of other people’s words. It’s even better when there’s a good –

Scientific (or psychological) explanation. When you’re not fully informed, it can be easy to come to the wrong conclusion and overlook a few crucial facts. Take smoking – understanding the chemistry behind nicotine addiction made it far easier for me to understand that the ‘just one more’ strategy was the trigger for the next one. Similarly, when I learnt that it took 21 days for a new habit to kick in, it was easier to keep the momentum going at day 3 when it (obviously) got a little ropey. If you’ve got a full understanding of what you’re fighting, you’re more likely to succeed – and less likely to beat yourself up in the process. Particularly when you move from thinking that you’re personally flawed to finding a little -

Empathy. Self help books seem to be filled with snippets and snapshots of other people’s lives. Whilst I wouldn’t wish suffering on anyone, realising that you’re not “the only one” automatically makes it feel easier. There’s nothing more isolating than fighting a problem alone and it’s amazing how much insight can be gained when you’re outside – rather than trapped within – an experience. It’s also far more likely that you’ll find a little -

Hope. Self help books are filled with hope. In the personal stories of achievements, and the proven possibility of change, and the fact that someone’s guiding you through the process, you can feel better even before you’ve started on the hard work, or followed up a few of the -

Practical suggestions. I don’t like being told what to do; but, I do like to make an informed decision. Self help books seem to be full of quizzes and ideas and tips and tricks to change your life. You don’t have to take them all; but, there might be a few strategies that you’ve overlooked or some tangible steps that can move you forward – or at least give you something interesting to think about.

Whether the stuff in self help book mirrors your experiences – or just gives you a useful point to kick back against – it’s worth a look; because, the great thing about self-help is that you can take it or leave it –

Providing you give yourself the opportunity to see what’s out there.

A few that slipped through the net:

Over the years, a few self help books miraculously appeared on my shelves, so if you’re buying for a self help sceptic or are already embracing the stuff that’s out there, I found that these ones seemed to help:

• getting better bit(e) by bit(e) – Ulrike Schmidt and Janet Treasure
• Overcoming Obsessive Compulsive Disorder – David Veale & Rob Willson
• Overcoming Bulimia Nervosa and Binge Eating – Peter Cooper
• Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway – Susan Jeffers

And here are a few from other people:

• Breaking Free from Emotional Eating – Geneen Roth
• Overcoming Binge Eating – Christopher Fairburn

Which is why my next strategy may come as a bit of a surprise!

‘Five Good Things’ is my version of the ‘things that I am grateful for today’ concept. I have used it at various stages in my illness, my recovery, and in those horrible periods when life seemed pretty bleak and it was hard to see the point.

Interestingly – and unintentionally – it also proved a great way of falling asleep at night; particularly during times when my head refused to be quiet or the emptiness of going to bed with a mind full of miserable thoughts was just too much to bear.

Now, it’s good for days when I have that nagging sense of dissatisfaction, or when I get caught up in the hype and forget that it’s the little things that really make the difference –

Because ‘Five Good Things’ is really simple and all about recognising the brief moments of specialness – so that they become a lot bigger.

The premise of ‘Five Good Things’ is virtually self explanatory: you have to think of 5 things (as a minimum) that have happened that day which have made you feel good.

If you start this when the eating disorder’s still quite dominant, it’s best to exclude things like “successfully evaded lunch” (which doesn’t really feel very good when you break it down, and was always tinged with elements of deceit or frustration or fear for me); however, there are no real rules, you can’t get it wrong – and it’s certainly not meant to be too strenuous, in fact, you don’t even need to write anything down (although it’s kind of nice to have something on paper at first).

Some examples

If you’re struggling to find a starting point or if you really can’t think of anything positive, here are a few of the things that I used to note down…

People:

• An unexpected smile
• a passing conversation with someone
• doing something nice for someone (eg making a cup of tea!)
• getting/giving a complement
• a hug
• sharing a joke
• an interesting conversation
• speaking with someone you haven’t spoken to for a while
• speaking to someone you haven’t spoken to before
• sending a card
• the special people that are in your life (nb. in the early stages when few good things seemed to happen, naming 5 special people was enough to make me feel a little better on its own)

Emotions and Senses

• something that made you laugh
• doing something that you’re scared of
• making a small change;
• a long, hot soak
• going for a swim
• skipping with Flo Rida (or an alternative artist!)
• scented candles
• stretching (llike when you wake up in the morning)

Nature:

• Autumn colours
• the feeling of crisp air in winter
• not getting caught in torrential rain (being grateful for what didn’t happen is good!)
• the sun
• the sun on snow
• sheep – or any other animal that you drive past on the way to work

Miscellaneous:

• Reading a good book
• a killer outfit – and, particularly, rediscovering a killer outfit
• nice nail varnish
• a favourite TV programme
• scrabble on i-phones
• the feel of fresh sheets
• the ironing (but only if you want to)
• sorting something out (eg that pile of unopened mail)

Variations and add-ons:

1. Giving yourself Five Good Things -

Once you’ve started to recognise the things that make you feel good, you can start upping your dose on days when you’re struggling a little.

It’s best to work out the things that are not dependent on factors beyond your control – a hot bath as opposed to someone paying you a complement; or a Family Guy repeat instead of Top Shop having a great new and hugely under-priced collection in – but you reach a point when you can refer back to your ‘good things’ list and start giving them to yourself when you’re feeling a little blue.

2. Trending

I was quite demanding before I realised – thanks to 5GT –  that it was not the expensive or the new things that actually made the difference on a daily basis; it was, for me, all about other people.

Five Good Things is an interesting way of working out what’s important to you in life, particularly if you’ve been used to focussing on one thing – like food, or the size of your wardrobe….

Not with a rope – I hasten to add – but kiddie style, with an i-pod and Flo Rida, and because the sun is shining, even though I have had a bleak day.

I have learnt how to cheer myself up now.

I have been shown a few little tricks to ward off the black clouds and evade the tug of addiction…

A good long walk.

Exercise and endorphins: it’s a drag for the first ten minutes and then they kick in. If you’re angry, nothing beats the sensation of pounding out the stress; if you’re stuck in your own head, it’s good to get a change of scenery; if you’re struggling to make sense of something, things seem to click into place with the steps; and, if you’re none of the above – well, the sleep at the end is an added bonus.

Feel Good Music.

This can accompany the above or act as a whole new solution! I think it’s like the endorphins thing: there’s science between the tempo and the response – or something?

Feel good music is probably personally defined; but, for me, it’s got to be: something upbeat that almost makes your body respond; ‘good’ music, ie. something that you consciously appreciate rather than background traffic; and, something with a nice strong rhythm to kind of jerk you into action. Feel good music is not: anything soppy, overtly happy or overly sad; or anything that, historically, makes you cry.

Swimming.

This works along the same lines as walking, with the added benefit of being incredibly boring. If, as I do, you enjoy the sensation of water, the boredom is slightly tempered; but there’s nothing like the monotony of lengths to get your head in order and work through some difficult thoughts.

Laughter Therapy

This one has its own personal page. You can induce laughter – as long as you’ve identifed your personal triggers and have a few DVDs in stock. Just in case…

Phone a friend.

This is good but comes with a word of caution: sometimes people are out, and phoning friends that don’t pick up can have the adverse effect….

The premise is, however, simple: talking is a great elixir and it’s better to talk through the negativity than to get pulled down by it.

NB. Making it feel better is good when the negativity is caused by something external or something that is now over; ‘going with it’ is for the times when, unless you deal with it, the feelings will just keep coming back.

Going with it.

Going with it is not the same as wallowing. It is about recognising that you’re not feeling very nice – and giving yourself a break. This is what I do when I am feeling things that I know I don’t like – loneliness, fear, anger, hurt – and need to stay with them for a little while so that they can come out.

Going with it just means not trying to make it better – and learning that it will pass.

I wish that I’d applied the logic a little earlier.

In an age of instant and ongoing gratification and when you’re used to living for the moment, either / or tends to be an afterthought; the consequences of any action too distant to consider –

– until it all comes crashing down.

An eating disorder works on the same premise. It’s all about the moment and it doesn’t feel like you’re making a choice.

You are – and this is what listing the pros and cons in self help is all about: taking your head out of the now – and into the then – so that it’s easier to change your actions.

Nothing gets you through the fear of change barrier more effectively than realising what your actions will cost –

Giving up bingeing felt like the most terrifying thing in the world – but, when it came to a choice between keeping the bulimia and losing my teeth, it was worth going through the fear.

Gaining weight seemed inconceivable and unforgiveable – but, when the choice was as stark as life (gain weight) or death (stay the same), the decision was a lot easier to make.

- and what choices you are giving away –

I can remain thin – but I will never be able to have a family.

I can continue to dedicate my evenings to food – but that time will be taken from my friendships.

Pros and cons seemed a little detached for me, but recognising the choices I was making gave my recovery a good dose of ammunition. It shifted the focus from the difficulty of changing to the other side of the equation – the consequence of not changing – and, it gave me some of the power back.

You do not choose to have an eating disorder, but if you make the behaviours a choice, you can start to have a say again –

Like choosing to spend an evening with other people because it’s more important than spending an evening with food –

Or moving through the uncertainty of not throwing up because it’s nice to have your front teeth. –

And letting go of the eating disorder because you only get one chance at a life –

Nevertheless; when you’ve sunk to the depths of despair, anything’s worth a go.

And there are a few things I wish I’d tried before hitting the bottom.

• Dream Diaries
• Lucky Dip
• Either / Or and If / Then
• Five Good Things
• How to scrapbook a life

When you’re stuck in a place that you don’t want to be stuck in and have lost that little propeller which, in better days, keeps you heading in the right direction (forwards), writing a dream diary can really flick that subconscious switch. It’s just a case of making yourself pick up that pen in the first place…..

The premise is simple (and probably explained far better by self-help gurus or therapeutic professionals): a dream diary is a description of how your perfect day would look to you.

Unlike a real diary, anything is possible and there’s no fixed reality (shopping in New York, for example, is completely feasible because your wallet is bottomless and you shouldn’t be worrying about things like childcare or not being able to smoke on the plane). What’s more, you’re not restricted to an A5 page or four ridiculously thin lines: nothing is irrelevant and the devil is, most certainly, in the detail.

I wrote my first dream diary in a hard core psychiatric unit. It wasn’t very pleasant. In fact, it was probably my most far from perfect moment. However, the idea was given to me by a friend and, with no other distractions for my typical cynicism to latch on to and more faith in her than the psychiatrists, I figured that it was worth a try and, hey, it would fill an otherwise empty day.

The results were surprising. Not only did I enjoy the exercise but I also learnt some important stuff too.

With no limitations, I had been a bit concerned that my ‘ideal day’ would be slightly OTT – think shopping in New York with a bottomless wallet and smoking above the Atlantic scenario – but I found that, when your life has been reduced to the extent that mine had, it was not the big things that mattered; it was the little things that most people take for granted.

A lazy lie in (rather than the 6:30 jolt from a resless sleep); a satisfying breakfast (unknown, not calorie counted, not the first thing to cross my mind); other people (there, not by intention or arrangement, but just because they were there); possibilities and freedom (rather than plans and provisions). You get the idea.

My dream diary really got me thinking. The first realisation was a bit tricky (my life was a million miles from where I wanted it to be); but the things I actually wanted weren’t quite as distant as they appeared. Recovery felt far more achievable and far more worthwhile. What’s more, instead of looking backwards, I made a u-turn and started looking ahead.

I don’t know how effective writing about an imaginary day is or why it helps – I can only say that it was a bit of a turning point for me, a way of accessing the motivation to recover which a month in hospital had well and truly destroyed. I did nothing with my diary, but it obviously flicked that subconscious switch. It got my inner propeller going again and did the crucial job or re-sparking the motivation which is so important to recovery.

What’s more – and I can’t make any promises or claim any mystic meg powers – some of my dream diary actually became part of my real diary in the following year. Nothing grand – but enough to prove that dreams are not just in your imagination.

In anorexia, there’s a lot of the former. In life, there’s a lot of the latter.

Plus, I reached a point where I knew that there were lots of things that I needed to start doing again and I wanted a safe way to start doing them. Don’t think too much about the control paradox there.

The unoriginally named ‘Lucky Dip’ is a bag of things that you want to do or try. The idea is simple: every morning, you take out a piece of paper and do what the piece of paper says.

My lucky dips helped me to do different things in different ways; and made trying new things a little less daunting and a little more do-able.

In true blue peter style, I’ll spell out the steps…starting with what you will need:

1. Between 28 and 31 pieces of paper, depending on which month you’re about to be in.
2. A bag / box / container suitable to hold between 28 and 31 pieces of paper.
3. A pen.
4. A bit of courage and a touch of imagination – or a couple of people that you can ask for inspiration.

When I first started using lucky dips, I was really stuck in two areas: what I could eat; and what I did. The former was linked to the eating disorder; the latter was linked to the fact that I’d got lost (metaphorically). My lucky dip bag reflected this.

On each piece of paper, write down something that you are going to do, related to the area you want to sort out. You can write down anything you want, providing that you stick to a few key principles:

1. Only include nice things. No punishments, should dos, unhealthy behaviours, or things that people only do because everyone else does them.
2. Only include things that you can determine. For example, there’s no point saying that you’re going to sunbathe because this is England, you can’t predict the weather. Similarly, going out for dinner might be nice but if you’re going out, you can only agree on your own behalf.
3. Small achievable things. This is about making yourself feel better and getting back a little of that self belief. For example, don’t expect to be able to eat a pizza if you’re struggling with a piece of bread; cut cleaning that sink down from 15 to 12 times rather than 15 to 0. Be realistic!
4. Have fun. This is your permission to yourself to do something different.
5. If it starts to become an obsession in itself (yep, even my anti OCD treatment because OCDified at one point), stop for a while or have a break. Don’t defeat the purpose!
6. If you’re trying to break a habit, it can be a good idea to write the same thing on multiple pieces of paper. Everything gets easier over time.

These are a few of the things that I tried if you’re still struggling around for ideas:

Food Related:

1. Try one new food (always eating the same thing).
2. Add one spoonful to your serving (not really eating enough).
3. Have jelly and ice cream (suggested by a friend!).
4. Have cereal for breakfast (stuck in a porridge rut).

Finding yourself related:

1. Watch a different TV programme (learn to relax).
2. Find something funny (learn to laugh).
3. Read a different paper (explore new things).
4. Call a friend (always helps).
5. Buy yourself a present (because you’re worth it).

Habit breaking related

1. Don’t check your handbrake before going to bed (replace handbrake with relevant obsession).
2. Wear a different perfume (variety and the spice of life).

Simple! And the nice thing is, you can incorporate the new stuff into the real world and ditch the stuff you don’t like.

Lucky Dip isn’t about making new rules – it’s about opening doors and taking chances.

Sweet FA was my answer for a very long time.

But I was missing the point.

The everything happening for a reason approach doesn’t negate your bad experience, it doesn’t pretend that what you’ve been through was happy and pleasant and something you’d want to repeat (my issue with rose tinted glasses) – it just helps you to reframe it a little.

If you’re looking for the positive reason, then you can still acknowledge that the experience was hideous – but at least you’ve got something helpful out of it. If you’re focussed on what you can use in the future, you don’t get quite so bogged down by it all.

I am getting quite good at it now. Lots seems to have gone wrong this month; so, I’ve learnt a whole heap of new things….

Having my bathroom ripped out has resulted in me discovering that I can – contrary to my previous assumption – go swimming before work and enjoy it. Living in chaos has shown that – despite my particularly anal OCD – I am able to go to sleep without washing in a certain order or hanging my towels up freakishly straight.

Fracturing my ankle forced me to face the fact that I still have a slight tendency towards addictive behaviour which I probably need to address. Getting a virus led to my West Wing discovery. Breaking my car radio showed me that I could bear silence for a little while – and sort out problems myself.

Whilst I’d prefer not to repeat the experiences, I’m still standing; and, I haven’t – as I might have previously done – written the world off just yet…

Because the learning’s been important and it will help me.

Because, if you have to go through hard stuff, knowing that the hard stuff was there for a reason makes if much more bearable.

And after a while, concentrating on the up side becomes second nature.