Sticks and Stones

Regret. The strongest feeling I had immediately after posting my very first blog. The many who know me personally will know how much I hate to show vulnerability and in admitting to having an illness I truly revealed my biggest weakness. I was worried that my brutal honesty on my ordeal would come back and bite me due to the very nature of the subject. What I genuinely didn’t prepare for was the overwhelming support that everyone gave upon reading it and the fact that people actually gave positive feedback to it. My goal was to raise awareness for everyone out there and so that when people see someone very obviously in the same situation as myself, not to avoid them and judge them for what they have done to themselves, but to lend a little understanding. I don’t want to come across as bitter but I have been in a place before developing anorexia nervosa where my lack of understanding led me to be somewhat judgemental of its sufferers. My biggest fear is that people will treat me differently after my revelation and being known as the ‘anorexic one’ is the last thing I want. In my recovery I want to become the Solene I was, the Solene that everyone had got to know and therefore this bravery comes from the person I used to be before. I won’t let the voice hide me away anymore.

The question I’m frequently asked is ‘did you think you were fat?’. No. Again I can say that this is one of the naiveties about the subject that people struggle to see beyond of. Although for some the disorder may be borne from a controlling diet, there are many more psychological reasons behind it, with each sufferer having a very much different reason to explain it. I used to pride myself in my appearance and I NEVER once believed I looked big. I am one of the lucky few people with anorexia who doesn’t have any symptoms of body dysmorphic disorder, where we will see ourselves as far bigger than we are.

It’s strange which memories and comments are powerful enough to be remembered forever. ‘Disgusting’ is the comment that was made to me that will stick with me for always. This summer as I was walking through my home town, a couple of girls looked me up and down shooting me an awful look before one of them turned to the other and uttered that spiteful word just loud enough for me to hear.  I remember the date and exactly where I was. The childish saying that everyone recites ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me’ is petty. Once a word has been put out there you cannot take it back and a single simple word like that, burned itself permanently in my brain and has caused me a lot of misery. I am fully aware of the shocked stares I receive as I walk in public but what hurts the most is that they don’t stop looking even after catching my eye. It feels as if I should be embarrassed for looking the way I am, instead of them being embarrassed for judging me for the way I look. I did not set out to be thin, what initially and subconsciously began as ‘healthy eating’ spun out of control. We sufferers punish ourselves enough every minute of every day without having the judgemental stares of the public who simply don’t understand. It feels as if the illness is permanently etched on my head for all to see but, like a huge banner ‘look at me I was weak enough to succumb to anorexia’. What I really wish is that I could blend into society again without sticking out for the shocking way I look.

Obviously I appreciate that not everyone will notice me for the illness, as became apparent to me this summer when I went on holiday with a group of my closest friends. A huge worry was that I would be revealing that dreaded ‘bikini body’ to all around the pool, but my fears are HUGELY different to the ones shared between my best friends and most other non-sufferers. Stepping into my bikini for the first time I expected revulsion from my peers but the girls turned a blind eye and it wasn’t mentioned. I felt comfortable throughout the whole holiday which is something I am forever grateful for. I stepped out of my anorexia comfort zone and I was able to have some semblance of a carefree feeling. I didn’t want to be a burden to them or feel like they had to look out for me permanently. If they ever felt I was throughout the 10 days in Kavos then it was never mentioned and I can honestly say I had one of the best times of my life. My hugest regret was that I couldn’t enjoy it the way I’d imagined because of my lack of energy and I was constantly cold despite the 40 degree heat. My anorexia was constantly playing on my mind due to the many meals I wasn’t able to have control over. Relaxation when you have anorexia is very rare.

 I had initially been told by the NHS consultant that I would not be allowed to go on this holiday if I didn’t make an attempt to stabilise my weight, as I was only eating 600 calories and going on daily jogs at the time. I was therefore losing weight at a dramatic rate. This was 2 weeks before the departure and I never told anyone. I made the biggest effort to then have 1800 calories and reduce my exercise before going, the holiday I’d been looking forward to for months being the motivation. However, due to the rapid and forced way in which I rushed into increasing, my mind wasn’t ready and led to a relapse near the end of August, which also had other factors contributing to it.  I then realised it is important for me not to rush my recovery but to take it step by step…

As far as I know my illness developed due to the want for control. I had always wanted to become a Dentist and after having performed poorly in my AS levels in August 2010, I could not apply to university for this course with the grades I had. This led to me being in a position where I had no idea what to do with my life. I had to completely change route and the uncertainty of my future did not fare well with my mind. I put myself under immense pressure to achieve, yet due to my pessimistic tendencies and despite setting myself an extremely low bar in a bid to avoid further disappointment, I felt nothing I did was good enough. Controlling what I ate became the only sense of security and the only thing I felt I was GOOD at. I would describe it as a triumph amongst my many failures. My own food intake was not the only one I tried to control; I wanted to over-feed my family and loved baking them cakes, feeling immense pleasure in watching them eat. This pleasure was heightened when they ate food I craved (particularly bannoffee pie!!), due to the fact I was able to restrict myself from having it. Being able to resist has become a simple pleasure.   

Although I am still very much near the beginning of recovery, I have come a very long way from the person I was when I was first diagnosed. I was a monster, irritable and anti-social. I am still rarely happy and struggle to find enthusiasm in a lot of things I used to enjoy immensely, but I push myself to go out in order to beat my depression (being on anti-depressants since November 2011 has helped a lot). I am rarely hungry but now I do find enjoyment in eating food albeit my incredibly slow manner of eating, which for my family is very disconcerting at meal-times. If I eat ‘too quickly’ I feel I must punish myself and this is a feeling I have not yet grasped the reason for. However, I am on the road of slowly increasing my calorie intake. I am DETERMINED to reach a healthy weight again. My main motivation will be the image of my dad when he forced me on the scales in October 2011 during my relapse and he almost started crying at the sight of my weight. Very much like me my dad rarely likes to show weakness through emotion and so I have never seen my dad cry, not even when his father died. If my weight stirred such an emotion in him then I will do this. For him. For my mum, sister and brother. For my friends. For all other sufferers. For me.