We All Freak Out
Caring for ourselves and metabolizing the world
Today’s newsletter discusses eating disorders and other things that could be upsetting.
On Relapses and True Self-Care
It’s the end of the semester. On Friday night, I stayed up until 2am in order to finish and turn in a research paper and finish grading the two writing composition classes I’ve been teaching. I figured it was better to stay up after I’d turned in the (16 page) paper and finish grading than to have my grading bleed into the following day. Was that the correct decision? I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s a “right” decision when someone is in a PhD program and also working on a book.
It’s common knowledge, at least in my program, that the first year of the program is the most challenging, and that’s certainly been my experience. I moved across the country in July, had a marathon book revision, and then dove into the first semester, already burned out. To say that I’m burned out right now feels like an extreme understatement.
Truthfully, doing all these things while also managing a toxic roommate situation has broken me. I have relapsed with my eating disorder more than once and more severely that I’ve experienced in several years. My average night of sleep over the past four months is six hours and three minutes.
I don’t know how many actual days off I’ve taken in the past four months, but I think I’ll say none, because my days off aren’t really days off, but recovery. I lay in bed and watch TV all day because I have no capacity to do otherwise.
I’m in Atlanta dog-sitting, and yesterday, after sleeping in until 8am (which was all I could do because of the dog), I lay on the couch all day and half-watched TV. I relapsed again.
I’m not sure if anyone ever fully recovers from an eating disorder. It’s not an addiction where the addicted can cut the substance or activity out of their lives. I can’t stop eating. I’ve often said that if there were a pill I could take several times a day that could replace food I must eat to stay alive, I’d take it and abstain from eating completely.
But in reality, of course, there’s not, and also, my relationship with food over the past couple years had improved greatly. You’ll notice I’m using the past tense. This is because I know how much the past four or five months— the living situation, the demands of the program, the ways in which I’ve had to shelve so many of my self-care strategies in order to get through it.
It’s not that anyone has forced me to neglect myself, and it’s not necessarily that I haven’t had the time to take care of myself in the ways I’d like to. I mean, the latter is true. My workload is immense. Teaching two classes means grading forty papers four times over, plus their smaller projects. Taking classes means reading pages and pages of theory or, in workshop, closely reading the work of my peers and giving thoughtful feedback, plus participating in classes and writing papers.
And then there’s the book, which I’ve gotten back from my editor. And departmental activities, many of which are required, And reading for the literary magazine.
How can one find space inside of all of that? I keep thinking about my Fulbright in Czechia— back then, I’d decided to do the Fulbright ETA because it felt impossible to say no to such a prestigious opportunity. I also had the first draft of my book to write. Three months in, I made the heartbreaking decision to quit. I realize now that I was juggling many mental health issues. My PTSD had been triggered the prior fall, and again in winter. I had undiagnosed ADHD. I was in a foreign country which had rigid gender roles, and I’d come out as nonbinary less than a year later. It was a lot. But still., I wish I’d have stayed. Leaving didn’t solve anything. It made it all worse. But I think that whatever happened back then was inevitable. I needed medication. And sometimes that’s just how it is.
Maybe that’s why I’m not going to quit my program. Though, if I’m being honest, it’s money. I have none.
I do get a little bit of breathing room for the next three, almost four weeks. Just a bit. And in this space I am asking myself what I need to make this workable for me. What I need to adjust in order to prioritize my self-care now and next semester.
And I’m also asking myself: is this workable? And if it isn’t, what are the steps I need to take to leave the situation?
I want this program to work, but I am not wholly against leaving if it’s negatively affecting my mental and physical health. That said, I want to give myself every chance to do well while also caring for myself. I may be delusional in believing those two things aren’t mutually exclusive in an academic setting.
I’m also moving into my own place at the end of the month, which I know will shift things. The living situation I’ve been in has permeated everything, and once I leave I know I will have more space for me.
On How we Handle Our Emotions
On Saturday night I watched Thich Nhat Hanh videos, which is something I do when I’m feeling really overwhelmed. It’s definitely one of my more helpful coping strategies.
Hanh was sitting on a little podium, surrounded by people, and a little girl had come up to a microphone. She asked him about anger— what do we do when we’re overwhelmed with our anger?
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