Longing for Something Ridiculous and Impossible
A reader writes in with a very specific form of body dysphoria and how they've used 12 Steps to help them suffer less.
Since we've spent the last few weeks covering issues related to body dysmorphia, I've received a few emails from people who claimed to suffer from body dysphoria and not dysmorphia. I didn't understand the distinction as much as I should have, and I didn't want to mess it up, so I enlisted Henry Giardina, writer of the Substack, Less Art, to give me some better clarity. Here's what they had to say:
"Body Dysmorphia is an anxiety disorder in which a person engages in a constant, near-obsessive critique of a part of their physical appearance (or in some cases, their whole body) that feels "wrong" or "off." The "morph" in dysmorphia is telling: this is a disorder in which you can feel your brain presenting an inaccurate or unnecessarily harsh view of your own body that is distinctly different from what others see. i.e.: a person with an eating disorder may experience dysmorphia when they view themselves as obese no matter how much weight they lose.
Body Dysphoria—often referred to as Gender Dysphoria—is more commonly associated with trans/nonbinary folks, though it doesn't exclusively affect people on the trans spectrum. Dysphoria occurs when your physical appearance feels like an inauthentic or inaccurate representation of who you are as a person in ways that can't be changed easily and cause emotional distress. For example, feeling bad about something you can easily change about, such as makeup or clothing choices, is distinct from dysmorphia, which feels like your body is an outfit you're forced to wear that you can't change without medical intervention/help from HRT or gender/body-affirming surgeries."
Okay—we have one more entry from this series. I decided to single this one out because it was so unique and fascinating; I needed more backstory. So, I submitted some follow-up questions and requested their permission to run them. I started with four, but it could have been a dozen. Their answers were wise, honest, funny, and offered deep insight into how their drug and alcohol recovery has helped them work through their complex and unattainable desires to become someone—something—they are not.
— AJD
Inside Me There Is One Wolf
by Anonymous
My experience is a bit different from weight-based body dysphoria. I haven't heard a similar story from anyone in recovery, but I've always wanted to.
I'm a cis male in my late thirties. I've wanted to be a different species for as long as I can remember. If I could have the body I want, I'd be canine-like. Imagine a friendly, not-hideous, slightly-transformed werewolf. This feels right in a way that nothing else does. I laugh about this, which helps a little. Genuine laughter is okay. Self-deprecating laughter isn't. I can be very cruel to myself if I'm not careful.
I don't have a deficient body. I'm average. I can look at myself in a mirror or in photos and tolerate it, but I feel like I'm looking at someone else. I have no history of delusions, abuse, trauma, or anything else that might explain where this desire comes from. I'm not seeking escape. I don't think having the right body would magically solve my other problems.
My drinking, drug use, and codependent behavior are all rooted in this desire, or rather, the lack of anything I can do to affirm it, and the deep shame I have about how central this longing is to me. I should care about helping others, improving the world, and standing up to injustice—and I do—but this other nonsensical desire is more profound.
When I was little, other kids wanted toys or to play sports, and I did these things to fit in. Later, my friends wanted to go on dates and have partners, kids, and careers. I wanted to be a wolf. I still do. Admitting that felt absurd, so I numbed it. Until I couldn't.
I know about furries and therians. I'm not the only person who feels this way, but I operate best face-to-face, and it's not a thing one encounters outside the internet. At first, I thought there was no way meetings could help unless I could talk about my body issues, but that didn't turn out to be the case, and I've been sober for 9 years in AA and Al-Anon. I talk about my dysphoria regularly with a therapist and several folks online who can relate.
Recovery has meant being able to look at this aspect of my identity without the need to numb it. Sometimes, now, it's even a source of pride and comfort. Sobriety involves accepting that I long for something ridiculous and impossible, grieving for that impossibility, and then finding gratitude in the beauty of these feelings.
*****
A Follow-Up Q-and-A
TSB: I've been trying to formulate some compassionate questions that don’t come off as leering or inappropriate, but I’ll admit that’s difficult. Let's start with this: What is a good question to ask you?
A: Since I've been so closeted about this stuff, I haven't had a lot of experience with others' reactions to it. I totally understand your desire to be tactful. I can also imagine how someone who moves through the world with an obvious difference gets a lot of unwanted attention, but that's not me. I blend in. So honestly, I'm extremely curious what your questions would be if you weren't worried about rubbernecking or being compassionate. I've gotten some pretty strong 'walking on eggshells' vibes from the few people I've opened up to. I get that they're trying to be protective, but still, it can be very lonely. The fact that you're curious enough to ask me anything at all kinda makes me want to say (with kindness and respect) fuck the eggshells.
When you say this: "My drinking, drug use, and codependent behavior are all rooted in this desire, or rather, the lack of anything I can do to affirm it, and the deep shame I have about how central this longing is to me." Has there ever been anything you've heard in the rooms of recovery that has helped at all? Based on your mini-essay about what you've experienced, I'm impressed by how much recovery radiates from your answer. Is that new? Can you pinpoint a moment when you realized that the 12 Steps were helping you work through this?
It was the first meeting I went to. I'd been in the hospital for a while, and a nice nurse listened to me and told me I should try going to Al-Anon (which I thought was just another way of saying AA). I went to a meeting the day I was discharged. It was February, so everyone was sharing about God. Before this, I thought (aka, I knew for certain) that AA was just a way to recruit people to Christianity. But I was desperate enough to go anyway, and I heard what I needed to about the 12-step God to realize that I really didn't know shit. That's not exactly how I knew it was helpful, though.
I'd been miserable for so long and nothing made a dent. Not drugs, not exercise, not quitting my job, not moving across the country, not even the psych ward. But after the meeting, I felt a little better. Even years later, it's extremely rare that I don't feel a little better after a meeting. Hearing newcomers share is the most powerful for me, because it puts me right back into that raw life-and-death mindset, which allows me to see how much I've actually changed over the years, which then allows me to see hope for them even though they might not be able to see it for themselves. Maybe that's the thing that makes me feel better, or maybe it's just listening to people be honest about what's bothering them for an hour.
Can you give what your definition of "dysphoria" is and how you came to that diagnosis?
There's a wrongness I feel about my body and a longing I feel for a slightly different one. Both feelings have been pretty constant background noise, whether I'm happy or sad or depressed or whatever else. If I could make the changes a reality, I would, without hesitation, even if it'd be hard work. The distress I feel from the wrongness and longing has been strong enough to affect every aspect of my life. For these reasons, dysphoria feels like it fits the bill well enough.
Ok…but why a wolf? Any insight into why it’s that specific?
Great question, but you probably won’t find my answer very satisfying because it doesn’t really satisfy me either. I’ve had a few decades to think about it, and nothing stands out. No inciting incident, not that I can remember at least. I’ve always found certain canines beautiful, so some aspects are aesthetic, but it’s obviously not just that. Why do I want to have some of the features of one? I have no idea. Why would someone want a nose job, to have larger breasts, or to exist as a different gender? I’m not saying it’s the same thing, but when I hear about trans people being denied access to treatment, I really feel for them. It makes me so fucking angry. I can’t help but relate to this desire to alter one’s identity.
So how do you find relief or release? What does that even look like? I mean, have you entertained the idea of plastic surgery (I don't know what that would entail, obviously, but wondering if you thought about it.)
For a while, drugs and alcohol! Which worked okay enough until they didn’t. In sobriety, finding a few other people who feel similarly has been a comfort, even if we’re often just frustrated together. It beats being frustrated alone.
I’ve experimented with special effects makeup and costume fabrication. I haven’t found a solution there yet, but at least it’s something to play with that actually exists, and it has the potential to be cathartic (or just fun). I’m not exactly satisfied to throw on a mascot costume (aka fursuit) and call it a day. I care just as much, if not more, about the experience of wearing/being something, than about what others see. Often, wearing a costume feels primarily like… wearing a costume. There have been rare moments where it’s felt more like taking off a mask. I treasure those.
I have thought about surgery. But, nothing exists that I know of that would come close to meeting my expectations in terms of the results. I don’t want to give other people (or myself) nightmares! Ideally, I’d want my unusual appearance to inspire delight, curiosity, or at worst, indifference. However, if the results were satisfying to me, I don’t think I’d care what other people thought, and I’d try to continue to seek out the people who like me for being what I am.
Do you have more questions for them about this particular dysphoria? If so, pass them along: ajd@thesmallbow.com
The first two parts of Body Dysmorphia features:
*****
MORE IN THIS SERIES:
This is The Small Bow newsletter. It is mainly written and edited by A.J. Daulerio. And Edith Zimmerman always illustrates it. We send it out every Tuesday and Friday.
You can also get a Sunday issue for $8 a month or $60 per year. The Sunday issue is a recovery bonanza full of gratitude lists, a study guide to my daily recovery routines, a poem I like, the TSB Spotify playlist, and more exclusive essays. For a limited time, we’re offering 50% off annual subscriptions.
If you already have too many newsletters in your inbox but would still like to help our publication succeed, you can make a one-time or monthly donation by pressing this button.
Or if you like someone an awful lot, you can give them a subscription.
Thank you so much for your support!
ZOOM MEETING SCHEDULE
Monday: 5:30 p.m. PT/ 8:30 p.m ET
Wednesday: 10 a.m. PT/1 p.m. ET
Thursday: 10 a.m. PT/1 p.m. ET (Women’s/non-binary)
Friday: 10 a.m. PT/1 p.m. ET
Saturday: Mental Health Focus (Peer support for bipolar/anxiety/depression) 9:30 a.m. PT/12:30 p.m. ET
Sunday: (Mental Health and Sobriety Support Group.) 1:00 p.m PT/4 p.m. ET
*****
If you don't feel comfortable calling yourself an "alcoholic," that's fine. If you have issues with sex, food, drugs, codependency, love, loneliness, depression —whatever-whatever–come on in. Newcomers are especially welcome. We’re here.
FORMAT: CROSSTALK, TOPIC MEETING
We're there for an hour, sometimes more. We'd love to have you.
Meeting ID: 874 2568 6609
PASSWORD TO ZOOM: nickfoles
A POEM ON THE WAY OUT:
Not Dying
by Mark Strand
*************************
These wrinkles are nothing.
These gray hairs are nothing.
This stomach which sags
with old food, these bruised
and swollen ankles,
my darkening brain,
they are nothing.
I am the same boy
my mother used to kiss.
The years change nothing.
On windless summer nights
I feel those kisses
slide from her dark
lips far away,
and in winter they float
over the frozen pines
and arrive covered with snow.
They keep me young.
My passion for milk
is uncontrollable still.
I am driven by innocence.
From bed to chair I crawl
and back again.
I shall not die.
The grave result
and token of birth, my body
remembers and holds fast.
ALL ILLUSTRATIONS BY EDITH ZIMMERMAN
But if you really hate subscriptions, feel free to make a one-time donation of $20 or more by pressing this button. You’re the best. Thanks for your kindness and support!
How I wish I could meet this wolf. I love his mind. He seems like a wonderful person. His story reminded of a little boy who lived in my old neighborhood. He suffered from hypertrichosis. I will never forget one halloween, his body language was so happy to be in a crowd without being obvious. When I showed him a warm hello indicating that I knew who he was and that I was happy for him, his shoulders drooped. Poor kid. What an idiot I can be.
Lastly, the poem you included is my favorite by far. Thank you AJ.