This is where I continue praising "Stumbling on Happiness" by Daniel Gilbert. If my last post bored you, don't read this one.
Gilbert states this: "People want to be happy, and all the other things they want are typically meant to be a means to that end. Even when people forgo happiness in the moment -- by dieting when they could be eating, or working late when they could be sleeping -- they are usually doing so in order to increase its future yield. The dictionary tells us that to prefer is 'to choose or want one thing rather than another because it would be more pleasant,' which is to say that the pursuit of happiness is built into the very definition of desire."
So, what's the deal with a lifestyle of anorexia? To me, anorexia is restriction of desire in the hope that the feeling of control/security/safety/stability will bring happiness and calm.
I engage in restrictive behaviors (with eating or money, among others), and my engagement in these behaviors suggests that I find it more pleasant to engage in them than to not engage in them. If they weren't pleasureable, I wouldn't do them, according to Gilbert. If you looked at my life, you would think that I value the illusion of control over anything else. I forgo the happiness of a splurge (with eating or purchasing) for the "happiness" of control. I put it in quotes because the truth is that there is no true happiness with anorexia. There's a rush at the beginning of the disease, that feeling of power, of being above needing. That vanishes though and we're left chasing a dragon. But, by the time we realize that, we're stuck in an illness that perpetuates itself because the brain is malnourished. As
Carrie said in a recent post, though the behaviors of anorexia are initially rewarding, they become punishing. What was once so empowering has power over us.
I remember who I was before I developed anorexia. I could relish a day off, without wondering how to fill the hours most efficiently. I could eat towers of Eggo waffles with whipped cream and watch re-runs of "Hunter" for hours. I knew what I wanted. I wasn't overly adventurous in getting it, but I wasn't restrictive by any means. Now, it's hard for me to know what I want because what I want is quickly shushed by rules and "shoulds." I can make guesses at what I want. I can do what Carrie suggests and ask, "What would a recovered person do?" That seems to be the only way -- experimentation, and tolerance of resulting anxiety.
My question for you: Do you feel like you know what makes you happy? ***
Today's gratitude:
1. Craigslist. We're trying to sell some of Larry's stuff at his apartment. People come out of the woodwork for the strangest things.
2. Full fridge.
3. New recipe to try tonight: Honey mustard chicken.
4. I'm actually motivated to work on this freelance assignment...sort of.
5. Home remodeling to ponder. Let's just say this would be a pretty big opportunity to test my money-spending abilities. I'm having bouts of hyperventilating.
Gilbert states this: "People want to be happy, and all the other things they want are typically meant to be a means to that end. Even when people forgo happiness in the moment -- by dieting when they could be eating, or working late when they could be sleeping -- they are usually doing so in order to increase its future yield. The dictionary tells us that to prefer is 'to choose or want one thing rather than another because it would be more pleasant,' which is to say that the pursuit of happiness is built into the very definition of desire."
So, what's the deal with a lifestyle of anorexia? To me, anorexia is restriction of desire in the hope that the feeling of control/security/safety/stability will bring happiness and calm.
I engage in restrictive behaviors (with eating or money, among others), and my engagement in these behaviors suggests that I find it more pleasant to engage in them than to not engage in them. If they weren't pleasureable, I wouldn't do them, according to Gilbert. If you looked at my life, you would think that I value the illusion of control over anything else. I forgo the happiness of a splurge (with eating or purchasing) for the "happiness" of control. I put it in quotes because the truth is that there is no true happiness with anorexia. There's a rush at the beginning of the disease, that feeling of power, of being above needing. That vanishes though and we're left chasing a dragon. But, by the time we realize that, we're stuck in an illness that perpetuates itself because the brain is malnourished. As Carrie said in a recent post, though the behaviors of anorexia are initially rewarding, they become punishing. What was once so empowering has power over us.
I remember who I was before I developed anorexia. I could relish a day off, without wondering how to fill the hours most efficiently. I could eat towers of Eggo waffles with whipped cream and watch re-runs of "Hunter" for hours. I knew what I wanted. I wasn't overly adventurous in getting it, but I wasn't restrictive by any means. Now, it's hard for me to know what I want because what I want is quickly shushed by rules and "shoulds." I can make guesses at what I want. I can do what Carrie suggests and ask, "What would a recovered person do?" That seems to be the only way -- experimentation, and tolerance of resulting anxiety.
My question for you: Do you feel like you know what makes you happy?
***
Today's gratitude:
1. Craigslist. We're trying to sell some of Larry's stuff at his apartment. People come out of the woodwork for the strangest things.
2. Full fridge.
3. New recipe to try tonight: Honey mustard chicken.
4. I'm actually motivated to work on this freelance assignment...sort of.
5. Home remodeling to ponder. Let's just say this would be a pretty big opportunity to test my money-spending abilities. I'm having bouts of hyperventilating.