A Damn Shame

All these bright, beautiful, talented, kind, wise, soulful people.

Girls and boys, women and men, young and not-quite-so-young.

For whatever reasons, unable to recognize, much less acknowledge and share, those electric qualities in themselves.

Qualities the world seeks, needs, but lacks in optimal proportions.

Qualities the world wants, though it might not always say.

The world hungers for completeness.

These bright, beautiful, talented, kind, wise, soulful people do, too.

On Feeling Like a Bit of a Slacker and Playing Eating Disorder Jenga

When you say, "I'm going to do a blog," or make similar claims, you sort of have to do it. At least, I feel obligated to follow through, even if that obligation is created and defined by me. No one told me I have to do this, nor has anyone vowed to hold me accountable. My obligation is just part of the too-hard-on-myself, perfectionistic nature of my personality and a key component of my eating disorder.

Which brings me to yesterday's game of Eating Disorder Jenga. Sometimes we experiment with therapy that seems a bit childish - like playing board and party games, or making hula hoops and then using them as intended (though, for me, even hula hooping is banned - exercise). But "childishness" and "play" are important parts of a lived life. Maybe even the best parts.

Eating Disorder Jenga is a variation on the popular party game that requires players to delicately remove one of the wooden blocks in a tower of stacked blocks, with each block numbered to correspond to a question about eating disorders. The player then provides an answer to the question. For example, "What are three of your eating disorder triggers, and what are some ways that you cope with them." The idea is to understand - more objectively - your condition and its associated behaviors as something distinct from you - the Hyde to your Jekyll. Perspective, you know.

I noticed that I always looked first at the most precarious blocks to pull from the leaning tower. For some reason, I wanted to pull off the grandest feat by pulling out the blocks most likely to bring the tower down. Why is this? Because I set unrealistic expectations, am often much harder on myself than on anyone else, and am prone to perfectionistic thinking. So, Eating Disorder Jenga, childish though it may be, did what it was supposed to do. It made me ever-more aware of this character flaw. It made me more aware that all character is flawed. Which sounds negative, but might actually be freeing.

More to come. I will fulfill my self-obligations!