Taylor: Boiling Point: When Survival Becomes Self-Destruction
“Are we what we do with time, or are we what time does with us?”
Mahmoud Darwish, from In The Presence of Absence, 2006
Like a boiling frog, I also was unaware of the gravity that came with staying in the same place. Mild discomfort wasn’t enough to get me out of bed; the heat of the water was welcoming. Days blurred into weeks of steaming, and still I stayed in bed, in silence, in hiding. I stayed hidden from view until that view became non-existent for me. How was I to come back? How was I to restore my place in life? The concern I had set down and ignored, where does it now lie? The lid’s on, the water’s boiling, and I’m still inside, wondering how much more I can withstand.
Early Signs and Symptoms
When you’re raised in a household riddled with illness and isolation, it becomes your normal.
Thinning hair shredded with each irritated pull, chipping nails gnawed on, skin discoloration
leaving the rims of eyes purplish—this was my normal for years. Living with my grandmother, I saw the breakdown of the body and the wear from the adversities of low-income neighborhoods.
We were fearful of anyone knocking on the door, of all the time we would have to fill when not in school. Days would pass, and I would be hidden away. That was normal for us, for me. This withdrawal wasn’t just from others, my surroundings—it was from myself.
With no community, I passed the time online. Scrolling and scrolling through endless photos, stressing weight, figure, stance. Young, I had no sense of how I wasted my days. Letting time pass doing nothing but holing up in the spare bedroom, alone, was my normal.
Physical Manifestations and Reciprocal Influences
The illness was not sudden, none of it had been. Fatigue mistaken for laziness, anxiety camouflaged as perfectionism, hunger misinterpreted as weakness. The water heated slowly, until I was burning. I was the frog—adjusting to agony, convincing myself this was just how life felt.
The intersection of mental illness and chronic pain were continuous, serving as reciprocal
influences of each other. Depressive episodes came to me as low motivation and fatigue, which led to smaller and faster meals. This reinforcement of poor eating patterns became noticeably disordered, disrupting the strength of my immune system. The physical pain—nausea, headaches—and the side effects of medications disrupted my eating habits and triggered restrictive behaviors.
A life of chronic illness, the pain, the limitations, the long-term management, heightened my psychological distress. An acceleration of disease progression from increased stress and limited self-care was the boiling point.
What Helped Me Heal: A Guide from the Inside
What lifted the pot’s lid? Who moved the pot off the burner?
Recognition, not just of what’s going on, but what needs to change, was my first step. Reflecting on how I managed to climb out of that cooling pot, recognition of intersectionality and how one’s identities can impact the way in which we live was the most influential aspect of my healing. And I am still healing, recognizing the harm in limited flexibility in thought and behavioral patterns. Change and healing rarely looks the same for two people, which reinforces the necessity in addressing who you are and what you want.
Seeking out a community helped me in establishing a life for myself. I learned what was out there, who could help, and began to see what I wanted out of my days. Fortunate enough to attend higher education, I sought out every opportunity I could to learn more about health and wellness. From all that I have witnessed, experienced, changed, and let change me, the value of living well met me on my doorstep. Let hope and faith show you how important they are in living a full life. Let courage be the one to turn off the burner.
Where Do We Go From Here? Next Steps
No more boiling, and no more silence. Leaping into recovery is more than acknowledging the rising temperature of the water, but of how you started climbing into the pot. Remembering how you started is one way to keep you moving forward. As I continue to establish a career in health promotion, I take into consideration those still in the boiling pot and those unaware of the burner switching on.
The promotion of safe and healthy ways of coping must be adaptable for populations at risk, already experiencing, and in recovery from illness. I aim to remain involved in health advocacy, addressing the psychological effects of isolation, raising awareness of the connection between social media and body dissatisfaction and disordered behaviors, and promoting mental resilience.
The burner doesn’t lower without external influences. We have to take matters into our own hands, reach out for support, and in-turn offer a space for others to seek that same support. Build that community by taking on volunteering positions, and increase your awareness of risk and protective factors by seeking out education on topics that you resonate with.
