tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7513060442401695777.post3336927596346883063..comments2014-08-04T15:12:54.271-07:00Comments on "Moscow, Moscow, Moscow!": Just a feeling...LizenkaLizenkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18094911937573412313noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7513060442401695777.post-50380548889241741212011-04-26T08:44:22.185-07:002011-04-26T08:44:22.185-07:00I can't imagine what it's been like for yo...I can't imagine what it's been like for you living through the ordeal of having an eating disorder, but this post concerns me because the kind of feeling you describe here has consistently held me back in the past as I've struggled to make progress with self-harm and especially social anxiety. I've thought to myself: "however much I change my behaviour, I'll still be me on the inside, and that's the real problem--perhaps I can become more proficient at pretending to be a normal person, but I'll never be one." From this point of view, recovery seems like an act of denial, just another lie that's exhausting to tell yourself over and over again, because deep down you "know" you deserve to suffer.<br /><br />The trick, of course, is overturning the belief that suffering is the appropriate and inexorable emotional state for you to exist in. I've never managed it (not even close), but I can tell you that it only gets harder as time goes on. I used to fear taking the problems that I developed in adolescence with me through to adulthood, but at 26 it's no longer something I'm scared of, rather I've just accepted it as reality. Now, even though I know it's utterly perverse to feel this way, the prospect of letting go of all my neuroses is far more terrifying to me than living with them for the rest of my days, and that only makes it all the more unlikely that I'll ever recover from them.<br /><br />OK--so far, so unhelpful, I know. I guess the point I'm trying to make here is that you shouldn't underestimate the importance of this feeling you describe, because I think it's more than just a feeling; it's symptomatic of a malignant core belief that will drag you down every chance it gets. Somehow, you need to hold on to the truth that you are not meant to suffer, that you are more than your pain and you can leave it behind without losing yourself or being fake, even if it feels strange at first. <br /><br />You say that the admirable progress you've made in recovery thus far isn't sitting comfortably with you right now, but I submit that this may be inevitable in a way, because "comfort" for people like us often amounts to a psychological prison that we build for ourselves out of our fears and doubts, only succeeding in keeping us "safe" from any possibility of finding happiness or fulfilment. It doesn't surprise me at all, for instance, to hear that little joyful moments seem foreign and unreal to you after years of being trapped in unremitting gloom. However, if you persist along your present course, surely they'll start to feel a lot more natural as your inner expectations gradually shift to reflect what you've shown yourself to be emotionally possible through recovery. <br /><br />Maybe I'm making too much of this--I'm far more prone to ramble nonsensically in text form than you are--I just absolutely hate the idea of the progress you've made being imperilled by this feeling. Don't let up Liza! As Churchill put it: "if you're going through hell, keep going."bill0483https://www.blogger.com/profile/06807331755184377280noreply@blogger.com