Mastering Self-Awareness

Self-awareness is a funny thing. It molds us, shapes us, teaches us, and impacts us. Without self-awareness, we cannot learn about ourselves. Without learning about ourselves, we cannot grow. Without growth, we remain stagnant and unfulfilled.

The thing about self-awareness is that it is not always pleasant. Sometimes we notice things about ourselves that we would rather push back under the rug. Sometimes we discover things that make us say, “Aha!” and revelation breaks through pain. Other times, self-awareness is uncomfortable. We become aware, maybe reluctantly...maybe even accidentally...and then we must face ourselves. We must look in that figurative mirror and ascertain what to do with what we see there.

I will not be so bold as to say that I have mastered self-awareness, but in the last several years I have become adept at seeing myself, knowing myself, and using what I see and know to live a life that feels right for me. I have also learned that self-awareness and writing go hand in hand most of the time, at least for me. I am able to process through feelings, observations, and discoveries – and by the time pages have been filled up with words, I feel I have learned a lesson or come to terms with whatever is at hand.

In a way, self-awareness is like telling yourself your own story – but without the flowery language, the sugar-coated details, and the rose-colored glasses. “Sit down right here, Arielle, and let me tell you the story of you today. Let me explain to you how this affects you, why this affects you, and what it all might mean.” That’s sort of how my mind works through whatever is present on a given day. Sometimes it’s a matter of using all my strength to push away a boulder that’s in my way so I can see the light behind it. Sometimes it’s like unraveling knots in otherwise smooth yarn. Sometimes I must open a door I would rather keep closed.

But self-awareness makes for a better person, and I’ve come to see self-awareness as an adventure. Sometimes you like it and sometimes you don’t. But you’re taking the journey with yourself. Sometimes it’s a bumpy ride. Sometimes it’s a smooth one. You are both the driver AND the passenger.

Though I am of course learning lessons every day, I feel that I have a keen and sharp sense of self. Why? Self-awareness. If I can be an expert of nothing else, I want to be an expert of ME.

Allow me to go back to the door analogy. “Sometimes I must open a door I would rather keep closed.” We are complex individuals – each and every one of us - and it is perfectly natural for even the most put-together, happy-go-lucky, and self-assured people to shy away from self-awareness at times. The smallest things in every day life factor into self-awareness. Self-awareness doesn’t have to be about life-altering, game-changing instances. It doesn’t even have to be about problems. At the core, self-awareness is simply about emotions. That’s it. Emotions.

Emotions fuel reactions.
Emotions fuel actions.
Emotions determine mood.
Emotions guide decisions.

Emotions, it turns out, are incredibly important.

 But sometimes they feel larger than we are. Sometimes we don’t want to believe them. Sometimes we pretend they don’t exist. Sometimes we embrace them in order to escape other, scarier ones. There are as many scenarios as there are emotions.

But as a pioneer of your own self, you go forward. So, you open that door you would rather keep closed. And you back away, off to the side, not quite ready to deal with what may be behind it. You might stand aloof, listening while pretending not to listen. Or maybe it’s the other way around – perhaps you pretend to listen to what’s behind that door, all the while still not yet invested. You keep your distance, but you still opened the door, so it’s not like you’re not paying attention, right? It’s not like you’re not being self-aware, right?

But then, something calls to you. You don’t want to face it, but you’re ready to listen. So you stand tentatively, your ear pressed to the open door.

And now you’ve been drawn into the journey. You wait, listening, maybe even arguing with yourself. “Do I really feel that way?” “Of course I don’t feel that way.” “Or do I?” “That’s not how I operate!” “Can it be true?” “That’s not why I act the way I do!” You’re so close to whipping your head around to the other side of the open door, to give what’s waiting there a piece of your mind... but that would mean you have to face it... and not all the things we learn about ourselves feel good.

And then, eventually, with a little gasp, you let yourself not only hear it, but recognize it, whatever it is. “I guess I AM jealous of that person.” “Maybe that IS why I get so angry about that.” “I wish I hadn’t done that. I guess I really DO regret it.” “Wow – I wanted to think I was, but I’m NOT okay with it.” Then wide-eyed and nodding, you’ve stopped the denial/defiant ego/self-pity/awkwardness.

And you know what you must do. You began this self-awareness thing. You opened that door. Now you’ve got to face whatever is back there.

And even though it might not make you jump for joy or grin ear to ear, it’s usually never as bad as it felt at first. And by staring through that door into whatever is there with 1) a little confidence, 2) the reminder that you’re human, and 3) the desire to learn about yourself, you’re one step closer to being a master of self-awareness.

The intricate workings of ourselves deserve time, attention, appreciation, and care. You can’t give any those things to yourself if you’re working behind a closed door. Open it. And even if it takes a while, don’t be afraid to look inside.

Some Things I've Learned

This week's topic is about what is learned in recovery.

Specifically, I

1) share the 3 most important things I have learned in recovery
2) talk about the hardest thing I had to overcome
3) and tell the viewers one message I'd like to tell them about recovery and why it's worth it!

Question # 13: How to Fill the Void

Well, your questions are still coming! I’ll keep going until the questions run dry, so if there’s anything at all you want to ask, just leave a comment on any post and I’ll collect them and go from there. No need to backtrack to the original Q & A post.

Question # 13 comes from Stella:

“How can you fill the void you feel when you stop restricting so you can't count on anorexia ‘support’?”

Excellent question! I did a post about this a long time ago, back in 2007. I called it “Filling the Gap.” This is something a lot of people struggle with as they try to recover, and it’s a concern for a reason. Letting go of something so all-consuming is difficult. It stands to reason that you wouldn’t want to be left with a void after you “let go.” That wouldn’t feel very good.

Check out the link to my old "Filling the Gap" post for some elaboration. It all centers around the question: What do you want to do?

The more open-ended the question, the better. Your life is like a blank canvas and you get to paint it.

Sometimes it's hard to remember what it is we actually like to do. Sometimes we never even learned what those somethings are. We never had time. We were all-consumed with our eating disorders. But there is beauty in discovering what we're good at, what we enjoy, what makes us smile or feel accomplished (besides eating disordered behavior), what makes us laugh or tap into our creative sides.

I challenge you to find out. I challenge you to rediscover (or to discover for the first time) what you enjoy about this world, this life. There is a plethora of wonderfulness out there waiting. All you have to do is start with the question What do I want to do? and then go DO it. It's often as simple as that.

Anorexia.

Don’t forget about me, she says

As She twines her hands inside my hair

And yanks me close so I can hear

Her evil whisper in my ear.

Just when I’m doing great

And I can be myself again,

She jumps up on my back;

I can’t fight off the attack.

Don’t do this on your own, She says

Referring to my life.

She says, You need me, yes

And when She does this, I regress.

Just when I’m feeling better,

She throws herself right in my face

And I’m drowning, but just She

Can save me from the sea.

Don’t let go of me, She pleads

When I feel I’m getting well

And I cry and She feels better then

Until I’m doing fine again.

Just when I’m being positive

And I’m surrounded by good thoughts,

She breaks inside and screams

Until I let Her in my dreams.

Don’t forget about me, She says

As She pulls me closer still.

But at least for now I push Her away,

Tell Her I’m great, tell Her I’m great,

At least She’s gone just for today

And with Her went self-hate.

(c) Arielle Lee Becker 2004

***

I wrote this 4 years ago. It describes the kind of conversation I feel a person can have with an eating disorder--or at least part of an eating disordered mind. This poem speaks to me of the kind of desperation I used to feel when I was trying to get out...or at least wanted to recover, but Anorexia kept dragging me back, calling me back, or was causing me to slip up in my attempts to be rid of Her. I personified Anorexia because it's interesting and also--I think--easier to imagine being clutched at by a person rather than a concept or a disease. In the same fashion, I think it is easier to imagine breaking away from a person rather than an intangible element of your own brain. This poem also shows the day by day kind of mindset I had to go through to eventually get to where I am now. You can't just say "good bye" to something that has essentially ruled you for a long time, and run away free and clear. It doesn't work that way, as nice as that would be. You have to take it step by step, day by day. If you can be rid of it (or as my poem says, Her) for one day, you are that much closer to your goal. And though She may be back again tomorrow, you can try again to break away. Before you know it, you'll be pretty damn good at living your own life, fighting back. And later still, you will realize you are free at last.

Much love,

Arielle