Showing posts with label path to recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label path to recovery. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Mentors, Kids and Advocates

Mentors, Kids and Advocates
Amy Grabowski, MA, LCPC



A Note From Amy: As I’ve mentioned in the newsletter before I’m writing a book about recovery from eating disorders. The following is another excerpt. You can read previous excerpts on our website.


….We all have a Self, a capable conductor, within us. The Self is the part I refer to as “Wisdom”. When we are in our Self, we feel centered and grounded. It is because of this centered and grounded state that we can feel calm and peaceful. An important aspect of the Self is compassion, a loving, empathic nurturance towards ourselves, the parts and others. The Self also feels courage and confidence, and possesses the clarity needed to handle whatever life gives us. Using its qualities of curiosity and creativity, the Self helps the parts resolve any problems that may arise. We are able to be current, to stay in the present when we are in our Self. And through the Self we connect to who we are, to our parts, to other people and to our place in the bigger picture of life. When we are in our Self, we have the capacity for objectivity – the ability to step back and observe our parts, other people, or ourselves, without criticism or judgment.

The second premise is that each of the parts has a positive role in the system. In an orchestra, the tuba’s role is to add depth by contributing low bass notes to the music. Another role of the tuba is to emphasize the beat. While other instruments may also have similar roles, only the tuba can do it in its own unique way. Our parts also have a positive intention behind all that they do. When the parts are cooperative and working together, it’s easy to imagine what the intention is. If we asked the tuba what it is trying to do for the orchestra, the musician would answer, “My bass notes add depth and rhythm to the music. I’m trying to help the orchestra as a whole sound as wonderful as possible so that the audience thinks highly of us.” It’s when the parts are not cooperative and are not working together, or when the conductor isn’t present that the positive role and intention may be harder to find.

Just as musicians are organized into identifiable sections of the orchestra, our parts can be organized into groups as well. It is entirely possible for you to experience one, two, or several parts in each group with slightly different roles. For example, in the Mentor group you may have one who manages your finances, while another monitors your career path.

One of the difficulties of describing each group of parts is making it easy enough to understand without oversimplifying the parts’ complexities. When you read about the different groups of parts, please trust your own inner wisdom. If I say Mentors often feel adult in age, but one of your Mentors feels young to you, so be it – have faith in your own experience. You don’t have to force your parts to fit my description. The descriptions that I give are rough guidelines, not rigid rules.

I’ll start with the parts I call the Mentors. These parts often feel adult in age and are often experienced as cognitions, or thoughts. Their positive role is to manage our day-to-day life while motivating us to learn, grow and to be the best we can be. They possess the ability to organize, plan and problem solve. These parts are very productive and promote “doing”. In the long run, the Mentors want us to find fulfillment and meaning in our life.
But, all work and no play make Jill a dull girl, right? While the Mentors keep us moving forward in life, the Kids make life enjoyable along the way. You know by their very name, Kid parts usually feel young. More often than not, these parts are experienced as emotions and sensations in the body. When in balance and in harmony with the other parts, they feel fun and playful. Your sense of humor comes from the Kid parts. They possess an awe and wonder of life. A deep sense of self-worth, contentment and a love of life can come from the Kid parts.

The last group of parts is the Advocates. The Advocates remind me of adolescents; they bring an enjoyable kind of “spunk” and energy into the mix. These parts can speak to us through our thoughts as well as through our body. The Advocates push us to take care of ourselves, to stand up for ourselves, and to protect ourselves. They remind us to have balance in our lives and encourage our parts to be in balance as well. Remember “all work and no play”? The Advocates also remind us that “all play and no work” doesn’t feel well either. The many roles of the Advocates can be as varied as reminding us to rest when tired or to speak up when someone takes advantage of us.

There is an openness to the relationship between the different parts. The parts communicate freely with each other and with the Self. The parts want the Self to listen to them, it’s important that they feel heard. They want the Self to appreciate what they do for the system as a whole. And the parts want the Self and the other parts to take care of them when they need it.

When the system works it’s wonderful! But when the system doesn’t work, when there is no sense of Self and the parts leap in to fill the void, it’s painful, chaotic and frantic!

Notice I said, “no sense of Self” instead of “no Self”. It’s not that the Self is entirely absent; it’s just hidden away. In another of Dr. Schwartz’s analogies, the Self is like the President of the United States. If the United States were under attack, the President would be whisked away to a safe place for his or her own protection. After the crisis, he or she would return to his or her leadership role and everything would return to normal. So your Self is there somewhere, hidden away for it’s own protection.

Returning to the orchestra analogy, if the conductor of the Chicago Symphony didn’t show up for a performance one day, the musicians probably would perform as professionally as usual. The audience most likely wouldn’t be able to hear any difference. When the conductor returned, the musicians would be concerned and would want an explanation. The relationship between the conductor and musicians would be back to normal quickly.

If the conductor started to miss performances sporadically and was inconsistent at attending rehearsals, the trust between the musicians and the conductor would break down. Some animosity would begin to develop. In the conductor’s absence, sooner or later one of the musicians would take over, “Okay, I think we should all turn to page 34 and start from measure 178. Let’s play it a little jazzier.” Because the musician is not trained to be a conductor and does not have the qualities needed to be the conductor, eventually another musician is going to say, “Why are you conductor? Why aren’t I conductor? I don’t want to play it jazzy, I think it should be more formal!” Since more than one musician may rebel against the pseudo-conductor, we’ve got chaos and anarchy.

When I describe an orchestra without a conductor, in my mind I picture Junior High School band. Without the teacher, some bully will grab the piccolo and throw it in the tuba. There will be some anxious kid saying, “Oh, we should keep practicing anyway. We’re going to get in trouble!” Another student shouts, “Who cares! I never liked you anyway, get out of here!” Then the drums will play as loud at it can to drown out everyone else.

What happened to the beautiful music that the orchestra is capable of playing? It’s lost! They stopped working together; they each have their own agenda that they feel is more important than any other musician’s agenda. They need the conductor, just as our parts need a capable leader to keep them working together. They need the Self.

Without a sense of Self, we feel hollow and empty, directionless and lost. The connection with our parts and with others is gone. This is the void that Emily described so vividly in chapter 1. I’ll talk about what causes the Self to get hidden away in the next chapter. I want to describe briefly what happens to the parts when the Self is missing. It helps if you think of the parts as existing on a continuum, with being in balance (I may even assert that the part is in it’s “self”) on one end of the continuum and becoming more and more extreme in it’s thoughts, feelings and behaviors as it moves away from the Self, towards the other end of the continuum.

For the sake of simplicity I’m going to start with the Kid parts. Since our parts act just like their “real life” counterparts it helps to imagine how real kids think, feel and react. Let’s imagine that something happens that is upsetting, someone gets mad at you over a misunderstanding. Without the Self’s soothing reassuring presence, the Kids feel frightened. Realizing they are alone, that there is no one to take care of them, they become anxious. They don’t know how to handle the situation because they are young and inexperienced. They begin to doubt themselves and feel worthless, “What’s wrong with me? I’m not good enough.”

When the Kids are more extreme, I call them the Exiles. This is because the more frightened and helpless they become, the more the other parts push them away in an attempt to help you to not feel these uncomfortably intense emotions. The Exiles also hold our memories from our past. The more traumatic the memories, the more the other parts try to lock the Exiles away in order to not face the feelings that arise when the Exiles get close to a memory.

Usually the anxiety felt by the Exiles will activate the Mentors who rush in to try to take care of the situation. Because they do not possess the soothing reassuring wisdom of the Self, their care taking is often not what the Exiles need or want. Mentors, when they become extreme, can become the Bullies. As they become more extreme, their behavior and thoughts become more and more critical and judgmental. “Stop being such a baby! No one else is acting like this. What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you just get over it?” They can become perfectionistic, punitive and loud. Again I will remind you that our parts act and react like their real life counterparts. The Exiles, looking for soothing and reassurance, become more agitated and fearful as the Bullies start yelling at them. The Bullies react to this with more perfectionism, which elicits more anxiety, which elicits more perfectionism… Round and round they go. 

Finally, the Advocates step in. As extreme as the other two parts have gotten, the Advocates become extreme as well. Advocates often take on two extreme roles, one of which is the Rebel. They rebel against the Bullies. “If you can’t be perfect, then why bother! Who cares? It won’t make any difference anyway.” Their other extreme role is the Numb-er (as in Numbing). The Numb-er says, “I can take all the feelings away. I’ll make it all better. You deserve to eat this (or starve, or purge, etc. etc.).”

And you know what happens next. The Bullies jump in and berate you for eating (starving, purging, etc.). The Exiles feel even more anxious and worthless. The Rebels and Numb-ers convince you to eat (starve, purge) even more….

The relationship between the parts become rigid and inflexible. When their words and behavior doesn’t elicit the result they want, the parts get locked into just doing more and more of the same. They become even more extreme. They seem incapable of trying anything different.

Establishing a firm sense of Self and getting the parts back in balance, back in their part-self, is the goal of recovery.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Picasso on Creativity and some Thoughts to Consider


From what I have learned, found, experienced and used as a tool for recovery is one vitally important quality of the self: creativity. I think that this can be one of the more challenging aspects of recovery. I believe every person, no matter their lifestyle or culture, has an urge and potential that can only be fulfilled through creative self-expression.

“Every act of creation is first of all an act of destruction.” – Picasso


In recovery one must shed their old patterns of living and thinking. There can be an immense amount of fear giving up what seemed to be everything that defined one’s way of living. It is like the caterpillar that must enter the cocoon to shed its caterpillarness to become a butterfly. This can be awfully frightening. The process of redefining, reconstructing, and renarrating one’s life is not something that can be done overnight. This can also be one of the most joyful and humbling experiences of recovery: it is the opportunity to reclaim one’s identity. Creativity is vital when one must start over with what seems like a blank slate.

I always feel a certain amount of anxiety when faced with a blank canvas. I’m not sure what is going to happen, I’m not sure if I’m going to like it, and I can’t say how it will look in the end. Sometimes I jump in impulsively with paint, only to pull the reigns back later to make refinements. Sometimes I begin with a careful sketch and work timidly and slowly until I reach the full develop of a picture.


”I am always doing things I can't do, that's how I get to do them.” - Picasso.


I think many individuals in recovery would agree that they are not sure what they like to do. When one wipes away old behaviors and thoughts, it can feel like there is a void lingering. The void seems like it is begging to be filled. The good thing about creativity is that it can help us fill the void, lead us to the self, and little by little, help us discover who we really are. Creativity is an ancient coping mechanism used by many cultures since the beginning of human history. It releases what has built up in us. It allows us to examine objectively what has been circulating in our minds. It helps us define our selves. This is a hard task to start when one feels as though they don’t know who they are.


”I paint objects as I think them, not as I see them.” - Picasso.


One of the hardest parts to deal with on the journey to self-discovery and creativity is the inner critic. Sometimes this part can be so overbearing: fighting to maintain control over our lives while we try to become a butterfly. This can really slow our progress and leave us disheartened. The caterpillar, in its cocoon, does not berate itself for the color of wings it is trying to develop. It does not criticize the length of time it stays in its cocoon. The process occurs fluidly and naturally, in its own time. This lesson tells us that we cannot be self-destructive while trying to self-construct.


”The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web.” - Picasso.


Picasso painted how he felt. Many people say that the nature of his paintings reflected a child’s perspective. From this we can tell that Picasso’s artwork was an outlet for releasing his inner child. Another important step in recovery is learning how to nurture and care for our own inner child(ren). What better and more natural way could there be for nurturing the inner child than creativity? Whether it be painting, coloring, sewing, sculpting, writing, poetry, cooking, building, designing, altering, changing, dancing, or singing, it all leads to self-discovery.


By: Danielle Meyer


Danielle is the Art Therapy Intern at the Awakening Center. She is Masters student at the Adler School of Professional Psychology and will be starting her Doctorate in Psychology there this fall. Danielle facilitates the Art Therapy (5:30pm-7pm) and the Eating Disorder (7-8:30pm) Drop-In Support Groups on Tuesday Evenings.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Pick Yourself Up, Dust Yourself Off, Start All Over Again


"Nothing's impossible I have found, for when my chin is on the ground, I pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again" (Lyrics by: Dorothy Fields / Music by: Jerome Kern).

On the path to recovery, to a greater understanding of oneself, or even just an improved outlook – it can be tempting to beat oneself up whenever life throws a curveball and a moment or a day or a week occurs that makes you feel like you have messed it all up. It can sometimes feel like you have to press the reset button on all of your progress, and that nothing you accomplished before that difficult moment counts anymore. I know I have struggled with this concept. I felt that if my recovery or my plans for self-improvement weren’t just perfect, that I either wasn’t doing it right or I was just a failure. I was living in this black and white world where there wasn’t room for progress, only “perfection”. Then one day I was introduced to two concepts that actually made me pause and reflect on how I was approaching my life. I was told that I couldn’t push the river, it was simply going to flow as it needed to. I was also told that if I did find my “chin on the ground”, to be a gentle cop; meaning to acknowledge that perhaps I had experienced something difficult, and perhaps didn’t make the best decision in the moment, but that I didn’t have to beat myself up so badly that I couldn’t even get up again. I could love myself, understand that I’m human, and just get back up again and continue down my path. As I adopted these thought patterns and practiced them, I found that I did indeed become more gentle with myself, and over time I actually stopped perceiving myself to be on the ground so much. It just felt like life, and I was walking down my path with a greater feeling of Self-love and Self-acceptance. If you find yourself in a moment with your chin on the ground, perhaps you can practice pausing, remembering you can’t push that river of Life, and gently remind yourself that it’s OK, you’ve still accomplished so much, and you are experiencing your journey and your recovery exactly the right way for you. You don’t even have to start all over again – you simply pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving onward.

By Erin Stitzel

Erin Stitzel is an interning therapist at The Awakening Center. She is a Masters student at Northeastern Illinois University and will graduate and gain licensure in August of 2012. She specializes in eating disorders, depression, anxiety, trauma, and grief. She runs the Saturday Eating Disorder Recovery Drop In Support Group at TAC on Saturday mornings from 10-11:30am. For more information please call 773.929.6262 (ext.12).

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Embracing a Season of Waiting


“Dreams come true; without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them.” John Updike

Often when I’m working with clients we discuss how to cope and process the emotions connected to a season of waiting. We talk about job changes, moving to a new city, finding a significant other, having a child and so on. There are things that each of us have a true desire for that frequently don’t come in the time or the way that we expected or imagined. We can end up feeling impatient, frustrated, angry or just hopeless. The importance of discussing the many feelings of this waiting time is so important. Obviously there are things that we are meant to know by the many emotions that we may feel in response to waiting for these things we are longing for. If we can be courageous enough to allow the anxiety, worry, or fear to have a voice it may amaze us what these feelings have to say. In allowing ourselves to know what these feelings are saying it gives us the chance to get our needs met while we keep working towards what we have imagined our life to look like. In order to feel the peace we crave we need to actually begin to feel what is there. In getting distance from our emotions and not being taken over by them we can get back to today. We can find the purpose and experiences that we were meant to encounter now. We can get back to the present while holding firmly to the hope for what we yearn for in our futures. We can experience what is intended for us today and perhaps what may be preparing us for the dreams of tomorrow. Now admittedly all of this is much simpler to write and to discuss than to practice. It requires a consciousness of redirecting our attention to what we do have a say in while remaining hopeful and encouraged. Often these seasons of waiting are made more bearable if we invite others along the journey with us. Sharing the struggles and feelings with significant people in our life allows them to be there to support and encourage us. They offer support also by simply listening as this brings us out of the isolation and silent suffering that can accompany these times. Seasons of waiting are challenging. They can test our patience, faith and the hope of realizing what we expected for our lives. They can also be our richest blessings as we reaffirm our strength, aspirations and the support we have as we journey on. My hope for you is that if you are in a season of waiting you will allow others to support you, give yourself permission to experience your emotions and hold firm to all that you hope for while experiencing what is intended for you today.

Peacefully,
Jennifer Schurman,


Jennifer Schurman MA, LCPC sees clients for individual therapy at The Awakening Center. She is a marriage and family therapist who also sees couples and families. She runs the Women's Eating Disorder Therapy Group on Monday evenings. For more information call, (773) 929-6262 x20.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

"Believing in Your Own Ability to Recover"

For many years, The Awakening Center has been a practicum site for several of the Universities in the Chicago Area. This is a “win-win-win” situation for The Awakening Center (having a background in Education, I love teaching practicum students the "art" being a counselor), for the practicum students (they get a well-rounded schedule of training and experience), and for the clients (who otherwise would not be able to afford therapy). This Blog article is written by Christine McRice, a senior at DePaul University who is doing a bachelor’s level internship at The Awakening Center.

For more information about The Awakening Center as a practicum site, please visit:
http://awakeningcenter.net/eatingdisorder/opportunities.htm

Namasté,
Amy Grabowski, MA, LCPC


“Believing in Your Own Ability to Recover”

Since this internship is my first experience in the field, I wanted to be sure to find a site where I felt true compassion for the clients, and which had a mission I could stand behind. In my search I visited several other treatment centers, but I did not feel the warmth and empowerment that I found at The Awakening Center.

The Awakening Center understands that eating disorders involve more than the client’s relationship with food, but more importantly it is the relationship with self. Learning who you are, and learning to accept and love that person, will bring you a happiness no one could give you. YOU have the ability, YOU have the power, and YOU have the strength that some day you will gain full recovery and fulfillment in life.

At The Awakening Center, I have been lucky enough to co-lead an ANAD support group for those with eating disorders, regardless of your stage in recovery on Tuesday evenings. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but have been pleasantly surprised by the respect and emotional support our members provide one another. ANAD provides a safe environment where judgment is suspended and you are free to discuss issues relating to your ED and learn that you are not alone in your struggles. Many of our members have very inspiring stories about their own recovery and can offer sympathy and understanding to others. Other members are just beginning their journey on the path to recovery. Taking the first step of admitting you need help out loud to those who understand (and to yourself) can be a very relieving leap!

Christine McRice