“I don’t want to play the rehab game anymore”

– Jeff Conaway, Celebrity Rehab 2

While I never thought I’d say this, on some level I can relate to Jeff (putting “treatment” or “recovery” in place of “rehab” in that statement). Treatment and/or recovery sound like a great idea–at least in theory. You go to therapy and talk about things that bother you. Get a dietitian’s input on what you’re eating. Relate to others with eating disorders in ED groups. Take a break from the other stressors in life to focus on yourself. Maybe draw some pictures in art therapy. Try yoga. Get medication that makes you feel better. Doesn’t sound too bad–right?

After some time, you hit a point where the “recovery game” isn’t so fun anymore. You are uncomfortable with your meal plan and with the weight that you are gaining. You don’t want to talk about certain things in individual therapy and the other people in group are triggering or frustrating. You’ve drawn the same picture in art therapy three weeks in a row. The new medications are making you drowsy, dizzy, irritable, etc. And most of all — You are missing things in your life that you want to be a part of.

I think that recovery can feel like a game at first because it is so different from the rest of your life. It’s nice to have others care about your wellbeing and there’s something about treatment that gives you permission to take care of yourself. Plus, there is so much positive reinforcement (gold star for following your meal plan over the weekend!). All of this doesn’t sound so bad… and I do believe you can make progress — even with this mindset.

When does the game end? Personally, I think this is when the disorder starts to feel threatened. There is something scary about recovering, and suddenly it doesn’t sound like a great idea anymore. I understand the panic that Jeff is experiencing.

However, because I do not struggle with a drug/alcohol addiction, it’s also easy for me to see that he has a long way to go in his recovery. His motivation to quit rehab is fueled by his addiction (and probably a lot of fear). It’s much harder for me to identify eating disordered thoughts. Treatment can be so tiresome–especially if it lasts for years. Jeff’s excuse for quitting is that he needs another back operation. I have plenty of excuses, too: I’m not underweight, I am so much better than before, I’m not getting anything out of therapy and need a break, I don’t think that therapy is the answer, there’s nothing that a dietitian can teach me (that I haven’t been told before), I have a life to get back to, etc.

I think that this is the point where you have to change your mindset and treat the ED as the life-threatening disorder that it is. Just going to appointments and sitting in groups isn’t going to make it go away — you are looking at necessary life changes. Your desire to quit is motivated by the eating disorder.

Treatment can feel like a never-ending game of Monopoly… and I don’t know about you, but Monopoly is not fun for me after the first couple of hours.