MIND MOVES: Tara had just turned 20 when the jolts of anxiety began to appear from nowhere. Like a sudden bump in the night, panic sensations caught her mind when it was off guard and most vulnerable. She noted a tenuous link between their eruption and the completion of a meal.
Eager to control these panic attacks, she eliminated from her diet any substance that might provoke anxiety. The obvious suspects, caffeine and sugar, were first to go, but when she experienced an attack shortly after a meal of bacon and eggs, she began to avoid all foods except what she considered the bare essentials.
Within months she had reduced her food intake to mere sips of water. Family and friends were duly alarmed as her weight loss progressed. A visit to the GP was arranged, anti-depressants were recommended and a referral to the local health services was arranged.
But Tara was an obstinate young woman with a mind of her own. Like many of her peers, she found the whole notion of medication very unappealing and she strenuously resisted the idea. She didn't accept she had a classic eating disorder; she had a realistic body image and she had no desire to lose weight. She wanted to understand what was happening and deal with whatever unresolved enigmas in her life were giving rise to her symptoms.
Having been reassured by her GP that her physical health was in no danger, she reached a compromise with her family that she would see a therapist and explore the root causes of her panic and eating phobia. If this failed to produce some resolution, and if her health deteriorated, only then would she consider medication.
Several months later, I met Tara socially and she looked very well. Her mood was very good and she was eating normally and putting on weight. I was curious about what had worked for her and what she told me is worth repeating, as it highlighted an aspect of mental health that is too often overlooked.
While conventional clinical wisdom would have looked for what was wrong with her and sought to put it right, Tara's account of her recovery told a different story: Her experience of therapy was one where she hardly ever spoke about food or panic, but one which afforded her an opportunity to reconnect with an aspect of herself with which she had lost touch.
This elusive part of Tara was not some buried secret from the past; it was her idealism and passion for life. The light of her passion had insidiously dimmed in recent years until she found herself living a life she could not take great pride in. She had slipped into mediocrity, into a kind of half-living that was a safe but confined space. She now saw her panic and eating phobia as an unconscious refusal to stop feeding this mediocrity.
In her work with her therapist she had slowly rediscovered something she had never really lost. At first this retrieval of her spirit was tentative and accompanied by mixed emotions. Like the return of blood into a frozen limb, this reconnection with herself was as painful as it was joyful.
Her emergence from darkness took time. When I asked what had kept her going, she said she had drawn strength from Lord of the Rings, seeing herself as Frodo, walking deeper into darkness, but believing this was necessary if she was to find true freedom.
Perhaps Tara's story reflects the experience of many young people who fall prey to emotional turmoil. That, for many of them, their distress is not merely a failure to come to terms with life, as much as a desire to recover in themselves a lost passion for life.
Tara's account also included an explanation of her curious symptoms: "When you're in darkness, when you feel confused, you become afraid of all kinds of things. And you don't always know how to cope, and you're liable to do irrational things."
Many young people get lost in the labyrinth of their own inner world and they can also resort to behaviours that are destructive and self-defeating. Periods of crisis can be precarious. Expertise and support may be critical, but not merely to rescue them from distress, but to empower them to engage with these moments and rediscover those values and energies that can shape their lives and give it meaning.
Joseph Campbell, the renowned anthropologist, stressed the importance of the great myths and legends in assisting us through difficult times. In his view, they serve the purpose of carrying the human spirit forward when it is in danger of becoming "fixated to the unexorcised images of our infancy, and hence disinclined to the necessary passages of our adulthood".
They reveal the inward journey of the human spirit as it seeks to discover its hidden psychological powers, which in turn are brought back to the world and put at the service of others. They alert us to the inevitable dangers we must face, but they also identify figures who can guide us through the labyrinth, the Sams and Gandalfs, who are part of everyone's journey and who assist us through the trials and terrors of our adventure.
Thanks to Tara - not her real name - who gave permission to recount the above story.
Tony Bates is a clinical psychologist.
