Learning to be authentic

I continue to sit in the same spot when meeting with Hellen. The club chair feels familiar, like an old friend, and familiarity makes it easier to relax and be open and honest with my answers to Hellen’s questions -- even the hard ones. Today, in our third meeting, I noticed there was a plant beneath her window. I wondered if it was new or if I am becoming more observant now that I'm more relaxed in this environment/room/our meetings.

I’ve come to enjoy talking with Hellen. Now that my guard’s down, I can focus on what I had started therapy for: learning to be myself and being comfortable with being me. We started discussing how I was feeling and how work was going. I spoke about the guilt I was feeling lately: while most people were feeling varying levels of anxiety and claustrophobia due to the pandemic, I was in my element. I was excelling and at the top of my game.

Outbreaks were my thing — it made sense, and I was absolutely justified in feeling as I did. My infatuation with outbreaks began as early as 1985 after watching the science fiction-horror film Warning Sign, where an outbreak of a virulent bacteria begins in a secret military laboratory operating under the guise of a pesticide manufacturer. Secret labs always run into bad luck, do they not? Ten years later came Outbreak, the American medical disaster film with its Ebola-like virus called Motaba. I was hooked. It seems fitting that in 2003, almost 10 years after Outbreak’s debut, I began working in healthcare during the first wave of SARS. I was in Dallas when the first case of Ebola arrived on American soil, and now in my seventeenth year in the field, a SARS virus had arrived yet again. It felt like everything was tying itself up in a nice little bow, full circle, if you will.

At work, my colleagues and I had a very interesting and open discussion about toxicity and its impact on people, especially during this high-stress, high-anxiety time. For the first time, I truly felt that we were coming together as a team. I could not sense any underlying hostilities. During the meeting, I allowed myself to relax and let my inner empath feel the air and look for undertones in the conversation, the words being used, body language, and the feeling of the space around each person. As I explained to Hellen, it was almost unnerving. The words and discussion matched the feelings in the room. It was one of the first times I had felt there was balance and that we were our authentic selves. The positive changes carried on in the second meeting we had the next day. For the first time, I felt like we were all together wholeheartedly supporting the person who brought the toxicity issue up. It was the first time in years that I came out of a meeting not feeling inadequate, exhausted, and emotionally drained.

These new experiences at work felt like profound real-life supplements to the materials Hellen had suggested I read. I am still working to understand what being an empath means, but the more I read, the more connections I make between who I am, how I communicate, and how I can use this knowledge to interact with the world around me. For example, sarcasm and anger have always been my shield when I feel vulnerable. And, while I have confidence in my knowledge and capabilities, I am quick to retract when I sense others’ discomfort, disdain or impatience. My emotional response is so heightened that the only way I can control myself is to stop talking, participating, or contributing.

I have finally acknowledged that I can’t work at everything at once. I need to take things in manageable steps. The first thing I can do is ask for help with triggers that push me over the edge. Being cut off during conversations, dismissed, or ignored pisses me off to no end. I know my reaction to this trigger does not bring out my best side, so I’m practicing new communication methods that carry less emotional weight. When I have something to say, I’m learning to use phrases such as “I’d like to add to the discussion,” or “It would be great if you can allow me to contribute.” It may sound simple, but for me keeping calm and not showing frustration is going to take some work. I also know that I need time to process. I’m a muller. For me, coming to a decision is like working through a puzzle, so being put on the spot makes it difficult for me to respond or make a decision quickly. The best way I can describe my thinking process is like the scene in The Da Vinci Code where Tom Hanks is working on solving the puzzle of the cryptex box. He starts with one question but needs to consider all the variables before moving to the next. That’s how I work, too. Eventually, everything aligns: you solve the riddle, and the box opens. This means that whenever possible, I need to be given a heads-up about topics that will be discussed in meetings so that I have time to digest and think things through. I’m not so naive as to think this is always an option, so for my part, I’ve committed to putting less pressure on myself to answer immediately. Instead, I will ask for time to develop a fulsome response and agree to a date or time to have it done. In the event this cannot happen, I need a champion who is willing to run interference to give me a bit of time to take a breath, think, and compose my thoughts.

As we were wrapping up our third session, Hellen asked me a zinger of a question. I realized that while I had talked a lot that day, she was directing the conversation more than in the last two sessions. In a way I can appreciate, Hellen asked me directly if work was my only issue. I took a moment to look out the window and ponder. This was a tipping point, where I needed to decide if I was going to jump in with two feet and really get to the root of my problems.

Hellen explained that deep down, I struggle to feel like I fit in. Being bulimic can be a sign of wanting to fit in and not just be the pleasantly plump girl. Working to show everyone what I can bring to the table and that I’m worth being at the table similarly shows my desire to feel like I fit in. As I tried to process what Hellen had just said, snippets of memories flooded my brain. Memories where I felt like I didn’t belong, wondered why I was not invited to things and wondered why I was not good enough. Shit. I am going to need time to process this, but I think she may be on to something.

Originally published on December 20, 2020 (https://girlintheredhatblog.wordpress.com/)

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If you are battling an eating disorder such as Bulimia, please know that you are not alone. There are some really good resources to help you on the road to recovery.

• National Eating Disorder Information Centre (NEDIC)

• Understanding and Finding Help for Eating Disorders