There is Miss B, whom I look forward to see with anxiety and anticipation at the same time. She spends an hour each time with me, helping me cope with Recovery. She is most kind and tender, but also firm and honest, shining light on dark areas which I alone am afraid to tread, helping me recognise the Ed (eating disorder) as a bad boyfriend who needs to be gotten rid off, and how to do so. Miss B is the principal psychologist of the hospital.
She tells me Ed is a abusive boyfriend because like anorexia, he promises you things that are most attractive but ultimately unfulfilling, enticing you back into his arms after each abuse because of the charm and comfort he provides, and eventually destroying your self-worth from the inside out. He makes you believe you're ugly, abandoned and unwanted, and that nobody else but him will accept you- and only if you become very, very thin and sickly. He is a sick man, who likes to run and work out and destroy vulnerable victims- Sometimes, I think it is he who likes to run, and who makes Anna run far more than she would really like to. I don't think Anna really likes running all that much.
This is Ed, my bad boyfriend whom Miss B is helping me severe ties with for good-
There is Miss A, whom I just met this week. She helps me to understand the origins of the illness and how they stem from my familial background and childhood. She approaches the illness from a familial angle, and is the one who will eventually speak to my Big People to help them understand This.
Because of certain Incidents, a little girl was forced to grow up very quickly without really being allowed to be a child for long. At twelve, she was Head Prefect, but also an adult, parent, wife, counsellor. Thus, there is a part of her that still very much hurts as a child, and who longs to be one, to be parented. Miss A wants to help her Big People understand that when she does act up, it really is the child inside who wasn't allowed to grow who is doing so.
A little girl learnt, that one of the primary feelings of her childhood was that of abandonment. Because of certain familial dynamics, she has grown to be morbidly afraid of giving her heart away to... men, of any kind, even if some of them really were or are gifts from heaven. She tries to keep a Safe distance from them all and is really is afraid of what they would do to her, not physically, but emotionally, because of what Big Papa did to Raggedy-Anna a long time ago. One of the principal feelings of her childhood was that of abandonment, and she's just so afraid another one of them would... well. It is so scary for her. But Miss A wants to help her to learn to trust them again, and not to reject them all outright, because some of them really are nice teddies.
It wasn't easy seeing Miss A. At one point, I had to tell her to stop because it was hurting so bad. We talked a lot about God, and I showed her a lot of my pictures.
"What is your mental image of God?" she asked me.
"I don't have one."
"All of us do. It's whether we are conscious of it or not." She coaxed me to think about the one image that would always surface in my mind whenever I was with God alone. It took some time.
"Ah yes. It's me on my knees, my hair at his feet. Like the woman in the bible story- Mary and her jar of perfume."
"It's very telling," she said, "what your pictures tell me about your mental image of your earthly father, God and men. Your experience with your earthly parent has extended to your relationship with God, do you see? Can you imagine yourself in God's embrace? On his lap, in his arms- other than his feet?"
I paused for a long while. It was a very difficult question. My answer surprised me- "No," I said. "No. I am unable to imagine that."
"Do you see? It's that feeling of unworthiness again."
She was spot on. My pictures were so telling- and she saw far more in them than I did. It explained why Anna never grows up, and why she's precoccupied with wearing white, and only white.
Before I left, I heard Miss A say, "This is very unconventional family therapy- I usually don't talk religion. But I think this will help you." She smiled.
It did. It's when they keep going in circles without bringing God into the picture that really messes me up.
Miss A wants to help me see that we have the privilege not only of being at our father's fingertips, but also to sit on his lap, be caught in his embrace, rest our heads on his bosom.
There is Dr L, who helps to arrange the different people who have to see me, and who takes care of medication.
There is the dietitician, whom I'm supposed to see after my upcoming final exams.
Is it tiring to see them?
Yes. I have not taken an afternoon nap longer than twenty minutes in the past few years. I slept for more than an hour yesterday at mid-day, out of sheer exhuastion.
It is a long road, but we will make it there slowly.
*All posts under the link Therapy chronicle her journey to recovery from Anorexia and depression with professional help from the team at the Singapore General Hospital.
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