The journey toward recovery from any mental illness is one that is often riddled with a feeling of loneliness. The realization itself that the maladaptive coping mechanisms that have been used are actually just that—maladaptive—can be shocking. Oftentimes the individuals currently struggling have difficulty recognizing that what they are doing is wrong or unhealthy. It can take various attempts and at times a “low moment” for it to become clear that what they had felt as comfort is in fact harming them. For instance, when an individual utilizes eating disorder behaviors like restricting, bingeing or purging, the act itself often does not feel “bad” or “wrong.”
This is because the nature of this mental illness is that the behaviors feel “ego syntonic,” meaning that it feels better to use the behaviors than to not. It is an incredible sign of hope and progress when the person suffering is able to comprehend that these behaviors are, in fact, maladaptive, or can identify that they lead to discomfort rather than solace.
In doing so, it is common that a feeling of being both overwhelmed and alone arises; discovering that things are seemingly upside down and that it will take months, if not years, for them to make sense again, can be daunting. It is frustrating when others do not understand. I’ve seen time and time again the experience of loved ones trying to use a rational approach to help their friend/family member struggling. I myself recall that when I was in the recovery process I regularly received comments like “Just eat, food is delicious!” or “Isn’t an eating disorder just about control or attention?” I learned, with time, that what most people needed was to be educated and so I took on this role. Others, I saw, did not necessarily have the capacity to give me the support that I needed. This was difficult to accept, but liberating once I was able to do so.
The people I knew that I could depend on, who could completely understand, were my peers. The other men and women who also struggled and who shared in the irrational headspace of an eating disorder. My feelings were not shameful among these individuals; rather, they were understood and respected. This is not to say that I felt shame or guilt around anyone who was not him/herself struggling. Rather, I did not need to question or doubt the support of my peers. Their support existed because a common problem existed. This being said, there were some peers to whom I was closer than others, with whom I am still in contact to this day.
It was not that every woman I met in residential, or every individual whose story was similar to mine, became an instant friend. There were some I found frustrating, others I did not relate to. But still, there was a bond that existed because the madness that I felt, the eating disorder voice dictating my actions and choices, existed in their minds as well. It is for this reason—among others—that I am so adamant about telling my story in a way that shows the true nature of the illness, in a way that demonstrates that others who suffer are not alone. Because loneliness can be crippling when managing mental illness.
Oftentimes when people enter treatment they find that the group support can feel overwhelming; why should others hear my story, is it safe to share? While practicing trust can feel complicated and threatening for risk-avoidant individuals in recovery from an eating disorder, is it often the group that becomes a holding space, providing ample support.
It is for this reason that I am co-facilitating two groups, one for Orthodox women in recovery, and one for any supporters of an individual in recovery, because the type of support that happens in a group setting cannot be imitated. Its true value is in providing validation and acceptance, two traits that those in recovery crave. The group allows for practice and planning with regard to other areas of life and other relationships. The group is a place where one can simply be, and use the wisdom of those around him/her to guide and challenge patterns and behaviors in a way, that at times, no one else can.
Whether you are a reader eager to learn more, an individual in recovery, a support or a fellow clinician, I encourage you to find a peer group. My peer group at this time includes other survivors as well as other clinicians with whom I can relate. A peer group of individuals who have been in a similar situation can feel scary and yet so empowering and can yield so much joint strength and support. Now, when mental illness is so misunderstood, we must work together to foster a sense of group understanding, and to support others in doing so as well.
By Temimah Zucker, LMSW
Temimah Zucker, LMSW, is a primary therapist at Monte Nido Manhattan and works in private practice in NYC seeing individuals struggling with mental health, eating disorders and related issues. Temimah is also a public speaker on the subjects. To learn more, visit temimah.com.
