Thursday 7 July 2011

The Happiness Myth

I was reading this brilliant post over at Medicinal Marzipan yesterday and it got me thinking.

When does self-improvement become destructive? Can we make ourselves happy by making ourselves "better"?And can we get so caught up in moving forward from disordered eating, that we pin all our hopes for happiness on it?

It's a given that to move forward from disordered eating, we need to make changes - to our lives and ourselves - that help us head in a positive and healthy direction. By definition then, the moving forward process is a kind of self-improvement. Recovery talk is littered with discussions of the ways in which we can make small changes to improve our situation. Self-help books, tapes and blogs letting us in on the next thing we can make better, to feel better, abound. It is, in short, everywhere.

Overall, I believe this is a fantastic thing.

We have access to all kinds of (free!) resources that can help us to make those first steps away from our eating disorders. We might come across all kinds of things to try that we never thought of by ourselves. I found out about my local ED charity that offers all kinds of help (like cut-price counselling, free monthly group sessions and art classes), without which I wouldn't progressed as much as I have over the past two years or so.I learnt about different books people were reading, and ventured into the world of self-help literature. Okay; not everything I've read has been particularly helpful but I've come across a few gems that've given me a boost to keep moving forward when it's felt like I'm doing anything but.

But there is, I'm learning, a fine line between positive self-improvement and what I'd say is a self-improvement "addiction", to use the term loosely.

In my ED days, I was permanently competing and comparing myself to myself (and others) as a sort of motivating factor to be thinner, smarter, blonder, BETTER than what I was. I pinned my hopes on happiness coming once I had just made this little improvement. Inevitably, the "if I were thinner, I'd be happy" fallacy collapsed on its bony ass (almost literally) and I knew the truth: Happiness was not going to come from chasing the next bit of weight lost, or dress size smaller. I knew it because I was several sizes smaller, and even more miserable than ever.

When I found self-improvement/recovery/moving forward (delete as applicable)I thought I'd found the solution to my unhappiness in myself, and especially in my skin. I figured that if I could just get over the eating disorder, I would be happy.

There is some important truth in this.

I'm so much further away from being eating disordered that I can now say that I am not currently experiencing an eating disorder for the first time in about five or six years. I am considerably happier than I was when I was in my eating disordered mindset.

But does self-improvement, in itself, lead to happiness?

No.

I don't mean to shatter illusions here, but it is so easy for the process of moving forward, recovery and self-improvement to become the replacement for the gap in the "if I just..... I will be happy" sentence. It can do so much to rebuild confidence, inspire positivity and repair our relationships with food, our bodies, others and the world around us. That cannot be underestimated in its value.

Happiness, however,seems to be something else. It doesn't quite work in our sentence. It's elusive, like a scent on the breeze, or a rainbow. We know what it looks like; what it smells like - we just can't quite touch it.

As I've kept on moving forward and away from disordered eating, I've noticed my own tendency to pin my hopes for greater happiness on this process. It's an easy thing to do when you've been pinning your hopes for happiness on things (an eating disorder, academic success, a boyfriend, weight loss, recovery).

It's just an impossible hope. Because happiness seems to come from choice. It's a feeling - a reaction - to the happenings around me. I find it when I look at all the wonderful people, things and achievements (those small things that mean the world to me, but are insignificant to others) I make each day. I find it when I go look at the moorhens in their river nest outside my new place. I find it when I realise I'm looking after my plants, or holding the cat, or notice the sparkle in my boyfriends eyes as if I'm seeing it again for the first time. I find it when the words seem to come out of my hands and mind almost effortlessly, and onto the page or screen.


There are times we cannot seem to choose to feel happy. There are some things which just don't open the door to choose this at all. And that's okay too.

What I'm learning is that happiness is not something we can choose to have and then that's it; it's with us for life. We cannot store up on happiness now to draw on later, during the bad times, like I had hoped each time I searched for it in places it could not be found.

Happiness is beautiful, in part, because of its elusive nature. It can only be taken in certain moments of our lives, but it's memory seems to stay with us like a photograph in our minds. It is wonderful, and fragile, and we can create happy moments for ourselves now, irrespective of how far along we are in moving forward with our lives. It's non-discriminate and doesn't wait for us to be thinner, better, smarter. We have to take it now.

So when does self-improvement become destructive?

I'd say if it is taking you back to a place where you're waiting to be something or someone other than you are now before you can live your life, then look again. This is disordered thinking and you may be no longer helping yourself.

Can we make ourselves happy by making ourselves "better"?

Maybe. We can be happy right now, though; no changes required!

And can we get so caught up in moving forward from disordered eating, that we pin all our hopes for happiness on it?

Yes. We can also choose happiness now.


I wish you all happiness today.

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