Recently, I posed a challenge to myself to see if I could tolerate one day without a fitness tracker. This experiment should have been simple: Just set the device aside, then continue with all my normal activities for about 12 hours. The key phrase here is "should have been simple." But to be honest, it was so painfully difficult. Here's why I took on this endeavor—plus the humbling lessons I learned from one day without a fitness tracker.
Why I Chose to Spend One Day Without a Fitness Tracker
My fitness tracker is usually attached to me like another appendage. I have lost count of how often I glance at this device out of sheer unconscious habit. I am hooked on watching the number of miles, steps, calories, and other exercise metrics increase over the course of each day. I crave the instant relief and intense pleasure that comes from being in continual motion. But as someone who is also in eating disorder recovery, I cannot ignore an obvious, uncomfortable truth. This reliance on my fitness tracker is both compulsive and unhealthy—it has been for a long time.
Over the past few years, I have tried to rationalize this behavior in all sorts of different ways. As it turns out, I am quite an easy person to convince. I've been able to reassure (or, more accurately, deceive) myself with classic eating disorder justifications like this one:
"I consume enough food to sustain a high level of exertion, so what does it matter if I'm constantly active? After all, it isn't harming anyone—I am just passionate about exercise."
Famous last words, right? A week ago, this "harmless" fitness tracker obsession escalated into a moment of reckoning when I hurt the person I love most—my own husband. Unintentionally, he elbowed my fitness tracker off the edge of our bathroom counter and into the sink, immersing it in water. For the next several hours, it was entirely unresponsive, which sent me into a panic. Anxiety took over, and one thought spiraled on an interminable, torturous loop:
"How will I know if I'm active enough?"
I could not have cared less that my husband's error was purely accidental. I lashed out at him with so much vitriol that it shocked both of us. At that moment, I realized my habit was far from innocuous. It was inflicting harm, and now I had a responsibility to course-correct the behavior. So, I embarked on my experiment—one day without a fitness tracker.
Here's What I Learned from One Day Without a Fitness Tracker
I completed this challenge successfully (albeit with much inner turmoil), so in the following video, I want to share a few valuable insights I learned from one day without a fitness tracker:
(Note: This video is restricted to 18 and older because of Youtube's policies on eating disorders.)
Is there a certain behavior, habit, or compulsion you want to overcome to continue making important strides in eating disorder recovery? Whether it's learning how to tolerate one day without a fitness tracker or pursuing another milestone that scares you, each incremental action step can lead to such a meaningful outcome. Please feel free to share some of your own recent lessons from recovery in the comment section below.
Opening up about borderline personality disorder (BPD) symptoms can present unique challenges, and disclosing this condition to immigrant Filipino parents adds another layer of complexity. My BPD symptoms include intense mood swings, fear of abandonment, and unstable self-image. Opening up about my borderline personality disorder symptoms with parents who come from a culture and generation that stigmatizes mental health issues is a delicate and, at times, painful process.
As my family dynamics were rooted in beliefs about resilience and projecting unwavering strength, when I started opening up, I did so with caution. Opening up about BPD symptoms in such an environment was at first met with skepticism and confusion. The first time I thought to open up about my BPD symptoms happened mid-panic attack, and I regret not being more mindful in my approach.
Opening Up About BPD Symptoms: Communication Through Resources
One significant hurdle is the clash between Western psychiatric concepts and traditional Filipino values. While BPD symptoms are acknowledged in the mental health realm, translating it in a way that aligns with my family's cultural values has been essential. Emphasizing that seeking help is a testament to strength and a commitment to personal growth has reshaped perceptions. I found success by sharing easy-to-understand resources with my family, eventually leading my mom to express her commitment to research and support in my mental health journey. These days, I can openly text my mom with updates on my recovery.
Opening Up About BPD Symptoms: Seeking Guidance from Culturally Aware Professionals
The value of community support is paramount. Encouraging my parents to connect with support groups or seek guidance from culturally aware mental health professionals provides comfort. Knowing they are not alone in supporting a loved one with BPD symptoms offers reassurance. Whether they embrace these suggestions or not, finding solace and success in working with a therapist who understands the nuances of Asian and Western family dynamics has been crucial for me. It's made a world of difference to connect with culturally aware professionals who can touch on the roots of my trauma with added insight into how family dynamics may have contributed to my mental health.
Opening up about BPD symptoms to immigrant Filipino parents has entailed delicately navigating cultural nuances and traditional beliefs. Approaching the conversation with sensitivity, providing educational resources, and emphasizing the potential for positive change have paved the way for understanding and support within my family unit.
Check out my video below to hear my journey in opening up about my BPD symptoms to my immigrant family members.
Healing from my trauma required me to tell my trauma story — but not to over-identify with it. When I first began my healing journey, I would talk about my trauma to anyone who would listen: new friends, strangers on the Internet, distant family members, etc. In a way, telling my trauma story — and owning what I'd been through and how I got myself through it — empowered me. It gave me a sense of purpose and a feeling of pride; it also gifted me with much-needed validation.
Sharing your trauma with safe people can be an important part of processing what you've been through. However, there are some dangers to over-identifying with your trauma story.
The Dangers of Over-Identifying with Your Trauma
As noted above, telling my trauma story was empowering for quite some time. I began to view myself as strong, worthy, and resilient rather than shameful, weak, and flawed. However, I eventually reached a point where it was all I could talk about. I over-identified with my story and trauma so much that it nearly became my entire personality. Little did I know that this habit — which once served me — was now keeping me small.
For years, I fed into the idea that I was permanently damaged and unable to lead a fulfilling life. I almost basked in my victimhood, as it excused my behavior and toxic thought patterns. Any time I faced adversity, I would tell myself, "You're struggling because you went through x, y, and z as a child."
Rather than taking accountability, I blamed most of my issues on my trauma. Of course, this isn't to say that my trauma didn't greatly impact my life and my nervous system — it certainly took a toll for decades. However, I was the one who continued to fuel the narrative that I would never overcome it.
Not only did I crave validation and sympathy when telling my trauma story (which is natural and perfectly okay in small doses, by the way), but I also willingly surrendered my own power. I recounted the story in a way that painted me as a vulnerable victim who couldn't possibly save herself — and I started believing it. If you choose to sit in your victimhood, over-identifying with your story for too long, you might end up doubting your ability to get better. You might even find comfort in those negative emotions and beliefs because they're so familiar.
Telling Your Trauma Story Without Over-Identifying with It
I am in no way implying that you shouldn't tell your trauma story, and I'm certainly not demonizing victimhood, either. In my case, if I hadn't self-validated my being a victim, I never would have deemed my trauma "bad enough" to receive help. I never would have sought therapy and professional guidance. I would have kept brushing it under the rug. The issue arises when you adopt a victim mindset that renders you helpless.
You can tell your trauma story in a way that empowers you. This starts, as most positive habits do, with mindfulness. Be self-aware when sharing your story. Ask yourself: Do I feel more empowered or more ashamed when recounting my trauma? Am I lessening the intensity of my emotions associated with this memory, or am I fueling them? Am I opening up to safe people, or am I allowing the wrong individuals access to my most intimate, vulnerable memories? What are my intentions behind telling my story — to help myself (and others) process and heal or to gain more validation and justify unhealthy behavior?
Based on the answers to the questions above, you might consider shifting the way you speak about your trauma. Sharing your darkest memories should help you address the pain they inflicted, not deepen the wounds — and certainly not paint you as powerless.
For more information on how to tell your trauma story without over-identifying with it, check out this video:
My name is Kris McElroy, and I am the new author of the Dissociative Living blog. I received a diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder (DID) in 2013 when I was 28 years old. Since then, I have been navigating the complexities of living with DID, especially in relation to parenting, coexisting with alters, professional pursuits, and interpersonal relationships. I aspire to foster a shared understanding through the exchange of our experiences as we navigate the journey of dissociative living together.
Kris McElroy's Diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder
My mental health journey began during my freshman year of college, a decade prior to receiving my diagnosis. I navigated through a tumultuous period marked by numerous diagnoses, more than 30 medications, cycles through various treatment programs, and the persistent struggle to establish lasting stability. As my understanding of dissociative identity disorder (DID) deepened, it became apparent that, although formally diagnosed at 28, I had been contending with symptoms and living with the condition since childhood, stemming from chronic severe trauma.
My initial encounter with DID unfolded within the confines of a psychiatric office situated in a hospital's psychiatric unit. Experiencing disorientation, confusion, and fear, I found myself there without clarity regarding the events of the preceding three days, providing conflicting personal details to different staff members. These episodes were growing in frequency, each occurrence leaving me unsettled. A DID diagnosis was determined during my stay in the general inpatient unit, leading to my transfer to the trauma disorders inpatient treatment program.
The subsequent three years were dedicated to active participation in a specialized dissociative disorders trauma program and intensive therapeutic intervention. During this period, I applied for and was granted social security disability, sought support for independent living, and strategically distanced myself from sources of trauma. My primary focus shifted towards grounding, crisis management, and engaging in internal family systems work.
Learn more about me and my goals for Dissociative Living in this video:
Dissociative Living is Possible for Kris McElroy
Most days, when I wake up, I still can't believe how far I've come living with DID. I've been a volunteer for two years. My wife and I will soon be celebrating our four-year wedding anniversary together. I am a parent to an amazing three-year-old. I have re-entered the traditional workforce and have been holding down a small part-time job for almost a year. My alters and I are still learning to work together by attending weekly therapy sessions to continue growing our communication and widening our window of tolerance. We are in this together, taking it one moment at a time.
Verbal abuse can affect many areas of life, including your view of body image and diet. Because this abusive tactic targets your self-esteem, experiencing negative comments about your weight can directly impact how you manage food consumption. In short, verbal abuse can affect your diet choices.
Although I've managed to maintain an average size most of my life, there were times when I was overweight. During these periods, I was vulnerable to remarks I received about my body.
Verbal Abuse Can Alter Your Self-Image and Diet Choices
Some comments were purposely hurtful, while others came from individuals who were not verbally abusive and had good intentions. However, my heightened anxiety made me more sensitive to any mention of my size or food. They included ones like these:
Are you still running every day? (I thought they were saying I looked like I had stopped exercising and was out of shape.)
There's only enough food for everyone to have one plate. (I thought they were saying I would eat too much.)
Are you having chips for lunch? (I thought they were judging my food choices.)
Do you know how many calories are in that? (I thought they were saying I looked like I should have restricted my calorie intake.)
I could never eat that stuff. It's too sweet for me. (I thought they were saying my food choices were not healthy.)
Although these individuals may have just been trying to strike up a conversation, my history of verbal abuse continued to affect my reactions. The way my brain processes comments can be exaggerated, creating more anxiety and a lower sense of self-worth.
Healing from Verbal Abuse Changes Dietary Choices
It can be challenging to move on from verbal abuse when you're sensitive to topics like your weight or food choices. I've realized that I can control what I eat, even if I can't control someone's behavior. For some individuals, developing an eating disorder might be one way to combat the verbal abuse they've received regarding their size.
Unfortunately, I've taken drastic measures in the past to try and lose weight and limit my diet when I thought I was too heavy. After years of therapy and proper dietary coaching, I've realized that there are healthier ways to manage my food consumption without beating myself up about it.
A few strategies I've used to keep those negative feelings at bay while struggling with my weight were:
Drinking a full glass of water before every meal
Putting my fork down between bites
Increasing my fruit and vegetable intake
Monitoring my daily activity
Allowing myself to enjoy small treats in moderation
I still struggle with that voice in my head that mimics the verbal abuse around diet I had received. When I overindulge in unhealthy foods, I have to push away thoughts surrounding my lack of self-control. I can hear my abusers from the past mocking me for taking another piece of cake, but I'm slowly getting better.
If you find it challenging to follow a healthy diet because of sustained verbal abuse, you aren't alone. Getting the support you need is vital to building better habits and improved self-worth.
Schizoaffective anxiety and recovering from surgery are a particularly bad combination. Yesterday, I was picking up some packages from the mail room. The mailroom is down a flight of stairs from our apartment. Only one package of four free COVID tests would fit in my tote bag, so I had to carry the other one by hand. I have a system for getting the mail on such occasions since I just had double knee surgery, and it’s hard for me to get up and down stairs. Schizoaffective anxiety in recovery makes it harder because I'm scared.
My system is that I use my cane in one hand, and I hold onto the railing with the other. The tote bag is so that I can put the mail in it but still hold onto the banister.
Well, since I had an extra package in my hand, it was hard—but not impossible—to hold onto the railing. So, despite my schizoaffective anxiety, I decided to take a chance and go up the stairs with everything.
All seemed well at first. But as I got closer to the top of the stairs, I felt scared. I don’t know if this was my schizoaffectiveanxiety kicking in. It was almost as if I could feel all the stairs below me breathing up my back. I was so afraid I would fall. I was terrified when I had to take my hand off the railing to reach up as I progressed up the stairs. Finally, I got to the top of the stairs. Right before I got there, I threw the package I was holding in my hand into the hallway that led to my door. What a relief.
My Coping Skills for Schizoaffective Anxiety During Recovery
I was shaken about my surgical recovery after that because of my schizoaffective anxiety. Luckily, I had a glass of ice water on the table and Scarlet’s Walk by Tori Amos in the CD player. I tried to calm myself down with that, but finally, I needed to take a tranquilizer prescribed for anxiety. I also had a chocolate from a box that was a Christmas gift. Then I put on a ring that comforts me because it’s from my great aunt who passed away, and I ate a small serving of apple sauce. It took a lot of ritual to carry that one extra package.
My psychiatric nurse practitioner and I are working on lowering how much of the tranquilizer I take in one day. I’ve already gone from three pills a day to two. Other than that, I just wish I didn’t turn to food for my schizoaffective anxiety during recovery. That’s why music is so important to me—listening to music takes the edge off, and Scarlet’s Walk is one of my go-to albums for when I need to calm down. Hopefully, in the future, I won’t need to rely on tranquilizers or food when my schizoaffective anxiety acts up.
One of the most significant symptoms of anxiety that I have struggled with has been hypervigilance. Hypervigilance pertains to being on guard and alert for threats in the environment and may result in engaging in behavior with the purpose of preventing danger.1
Unfortunately, though, I've noticed that this hypervigilance has taken many forms. For example, it has pertained to being on the constant lookout for things that are of physical danger in the environment. But this has also pertained to being extremely sensitive to my environment and those around me. It has also related to feeling as though I have to tiptoe around other people, watching what I say, do, or how I behave, for fear that I may be judged by others.
Additionally, it has led to overthinking, feeling like something bad is going to happen, and, at times, withdrawing from those in my environment. Because being around others has led to heightened anxiety and that constant feeling of something being wrong, the oversensitivity can be exhausting. As a result, isolating from others becomes appealing in order to avoid having to feel that overwhelming level of discomfort that comes from anxiety and hypervigilance.
How to Cope with Hypervigilance and Anxiety
Over time, I have worked on my anxiety and hypervigilance as I realized it has, in the past, led to not taking advantage of opportunities, both personally and professionally. Through years of working on this and continuing to work on it, I've found that the following strategies have been helpful:
I've acknowledged and accepted this is part of who I am and the anxiety I struggle with. Being aware of anxiety and hypervigilance, instead of trying to avoid it, was the first step in successfully coping.
I've identified situations that seem to trigger my hypervigilance and anxiety. By doing so, I can be mindful of specific strategies to use in these situations. For example, I know that being in the middle of chaotic situations can be a trigger. Therefore, I will often try to avoid being in this type of environment.
I've found deep breathing and mindfulness both help to calm my nervous system. Deep breathing helps to slow my heart rate, and mindfulness helps me to ground myself in the present moment.
I've noticed practicing self-care has been instrumental in building my resilience in challenging situations in which I might experience hypervigilance and anxiety. This includes sleeping well, eating well, and regular exercise.
I have continuously worked on managing my emotional reactivitybecause my hypervigilance often involves fear and other strong emotions. Sometimes, this involves attempting to shift my perspective or viewing things in a logical, objective manner.
These are strategies that have been helpful for me in coping with hypervigilance. In the video below, I discuss these strategies. If there are techniques that you use that are helpful for you, please share them in the comments below.
Source
Burgess, L. (2017, September 7). Hypervigilance: What you need to know. https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/319289
For the longest time, I felt something was wrong with me for being an introvert. While most kids my age loved noisy parties and socializing, I preferred quiet one-on-one conversations and the company of books. In tenth grade, when an unimaginative bully called me "boring," I took her jibe to heart. It took me a couple of years to realize she was dead wrong. I am not boring; I am an introvert. And there is nothing wrong with being an introvert.
Introversion Is a Personality Type, Not a Choice
According to SimplyPsychology,
"Introverts and extroverts are two contrasting personality types, introduced in 1910 by Carl Gustav Jung, existing as part of a continuum with each personality type at separate ends of the scale. Introverts prefer solitude and find energy in alone time, while extroverts thrive on social interaction and seek external stimulation."1
As the above definition indicates, introverts and extroverts are polar opposites. While introverts feel relaxed in small social settings, extroverts prefer big groups of people. While introverts recharge by spending time alone, extroverts feel lonely and drained when they are by themselves. I know this because I am an introvert who knows a couple of extroverts, and it never fails to surprise me how much we differ.
Introversion is a personality type, and personality is determined by one's genetics and their environment. Before I turned 11, I was an extroverted child. I loved being around people and always needed to be in the spotlight. Then, anxiety and bullying turned me into an introvert. When depression entered my life at 13, the transformation became permanent. And today, at 33, I remain an introvert. Are there days when I want to change into an extrovert? Yes, there are. The world is built for extroverts, after all. But these days are few and far between. For the most part, I have accepted who I am -- and so should you. Watch the video below to learn how I accepted myself for being an introvert.
Being an Introvert Is Normal, and You Shouldn't Hide It
Society perpetuates extroverts as the ideal personality type, which is why we introverts often feel like misfits. But think about it: the world needs listeners/introverts as much as it needs speakers/extroverts. Plus, nobody should have to pretend to be someone they are not. If you are an introvert, please do not put on the mask of an extrovert to fit in. I have never done this myself, but I have read horror stories of introverts who had to deal with fatigue, anxiety, mood swings, loneliness, and even depression -- all because they spent years pretending to be extroverts. Instead of trying to pass as an extrovert, why not focus on your strengths being an introvert? Like I said, there is nothing wrong with being an introvert. Own it.
Source
MSc, O. G. (2023). Introvert vs. Extrovert Personality: Signs, Theories, & Differences. Simply Psychology. https://www.simplypsychology.org/introvert-extrovert.html
I fell into habit tracking because in a world that is constantly changing, having clearly defined action steps is comforting. I’m able to trick my mind into creating a productive routine that feels more like a game than a chore. Sticking to healthy routines has a tremendously positive impact on my mental health, and it’s never been easier to do because I found a way that I enjoy. (Who doesn’t like the feeling of being able to check off boxes?)
What Is Habit Tracking and What Do I Track?
Habit tracking is exactly what it sounds like. Select a few tasks to do daily, and then track each day that they are accomplished by creating a grid or chart that labels each day of the week and the tasks selected. Progress and trends can be tracked over days, weeks, and, in my case, even years.
I start simple and choose tasks that will improve my headspace. I know when I don’t get enough sleep, my anxiety and depression symptoms are heightened, so I try to get at least seven hours of sleep. I know meditating helps me relax, so I track what days I meditate.
How to Habit Track
There are several ways to habit track. It can be done online, in a journal, in a spreadsheet, or whatever seems to work.
Mine is tracked online, and here’s how I have set that up:
Using Habit Tracking to Create Goals
After tracking for weeks and months, trends start to appear. As an example, let’s say I want to meditate four times a week, but I haven’t hit that goal in a month. No problem -- I will lower that goal to three times a week.
The point is to make weekly and monthly goals feel doable, not intimidating. If I start to see that I’ve hit the goal repeatedly and don’t have to put much thought into it, I’ve successfully made it part of my routine and can stop tracking. For example, I stopped tracking taking my medication when I started doing it automatically.
Things to Keep in Mind While Habit Tracking
Habit tracking should be helpful, not hurtful. It’s easy to try to take on too much, so it’s important to stick to doable tasks and focus on only a few at a time that are going to be helpful for mental illness recovery.
I miss tracking days all the time; It’s not a big deal. Sometimes, I’ll even miss weeks of tracking, and that is okay. I remind myself that this tool should be helping me recover, not making it harder, and it’s okay to take a break.
Habit tracking is a great way to feel accomplishment and pave the way to recovery, but it needs to be done in a way that is mindful and comfortable. When done successfully, it can help create a routine that makes recovery easier and more entertaining.
In my life, embracing setbacks has been a recurring theme. Setbacks are the unexpected twists in my mental health journey. Embracing setbacks has been a transformative experience, prompting me to reconsider their nature and my response to them.
Embrace Setbacks by Redefining Them
One crucial strategy in embracing setbacks lies in how we choose to understand them. Rather than viewing setbacks as inherently negative, I have found it more useful to see them as detours challenging our expectations. These unexpected turns become opportunities for self-reflection, urging me to reevaluate my expectations and grow through the process.
I continually remind myself that I lack complete control over life's unfolding events. By embracing the uncertainty and acknowledging that situations may not align with my initial expectations, I have learned to navigate setbacks with resilience. This shift in perspective has enabled me to embrace setbacks as integral parts of the larger journey rather than disruptions to my path.
A Perspective Shift to Embrace Setbacks
In my journey, setbacks have evolved into stepping stones for personal growth. Seemingly negative turns of events have, in many instances, led to positive outcomes later on. This shift in perspective has allowed me to appreciate the intricate and unpredictable nature of life, fostering adaptability and a positive mindset.
Setbacks, far from being solely adversarial, possess the power to humble us. They serve as reminders of life's complexity, emphasizing that our individual narratives are merely small threads in the grand tapestry of existence. This humility has become a grounding force, encouraging me to approach challenges with openness and a genuine willingness to learn.
Moreover, embracing setbacks has instilled in me the importance of resilience. Navigating through difficult times has consistently strengthened my mental and emotional fortitude. Each setback faced has contributed to building a foundation of resilience, empowering me to confront future challenges with newfound confidence.
In conclusion, I encourage others on similar journeys to consider embracing setbacks as inevitable and transformative components of the path to self-esteem and mental health recovery. By understanding setbacks as detours rather than roadblocks, we can approach them with curiosity and an open mind. Through these setbacks, we have the opportunity to grow and adapt and ultimately enhance our self-esteem. Life's journey is unpredictable, and by learning to navigate setbacks with resilience and humility, we can discover the strength within ourselves to face whatever challenges lie ahead.
