In the Bell Jar

“Wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.“ ~Sylvia Plath

At least once a week I tell my therapist “I’m stuck in the bell jar. Again.” She knows that when I say this it means I am feeling sad, lonely, disconnected, and detached. It feels like I’m an invisible ghost who can see the world unfolding but who cannot, in turn, be seen by the world. It feels like I am just going through the motions of my life, but not really participating in my life. Confusing, I know. It is a strange sensation, but my therapist tells me that this is actually a common feeling in people with eating disorders. It’s because we tend to always put up a false front of being very happy and with-it and enthusiastic, even though inside we are feeling miserable and empty and lonely. The people around us attach to the false, robotic, “everything is always fine and I am always fine” self we put on display (the bell jar), and our real selves are buried, ignored and hidden deep within (the ghost inside the bell jar).

The more we ignore our real selves in favor of our false selves, the more disconnected and detached we feel. This is why we can be lonely even when we are completely surrounded by people. For me, loneliness has little to do with actually being alone and much more to do with this feeling of being disconnected from the people around me. When I ignore, bury, reject and deny my authentic self in favor of wearing my robotic, smiling mask and let people attach to this mask, this false self, the feelings of disconnectedness and loneliness intensify.

I know this, and yet I am still so afraid of being less than a robot. It’s just what I am so accustomed to and it feels the most familiar. I’m really bad at expressing or even acknowledging my emotions, and usually when I am sad or depressed on the inside, I will overcompensate by being extra cheery, happy, and enthusiastic on the outside. In fact, it is during the times when I have been at my absolute lowest that I have received the most compliments about my positive, optimistic attitude, cheerfulness, big smile, etc… I guess I have a deep fear of rejection. I’m afraid that if I am less than perfect, if I show my true emotions instead of constantly people-pleasing, I will be rejected or abandoned. So I wear the smiling mask. And it can get pretty exhausting. It’s like Tori Amos says, “An angel’s face is tricky to wear constantly.” Yep.

But I do have people in my life who have managed to break through the glass of my bell jar. I have a few safe people that I talk with openly about my struggles with my depression and my eating disorder, and they, in turn, are very open and honest about their own struggles. And it is when I’m communicating with these people that my bell jar lifts and I finally experience those authentic, genuine connections that help me to feel like I am a part of the world, rather than apart from the world. I see and hear and understand, and likewise, I am seen and heard and understood. Connected.

So I have to remember that taking off my smiling robot mask will not always automatically result in people running away in the opposite direction when they find out that I am not (gasp!) perfect.

My therapist told me at our last session: “You’ve done a great job with building your self image, now you need to focus on building your actual self, your real self.”

So that is my next step. Easier said than done, considering I have no clue who I am :)