Weight Lifting

Challenge. We all know what this word means, but to find a definition is- well- a challenge in itself isn’t it? Challenging is a demand made to someone whereby they must show their strength and determination in completing an arduous task. Such traits are required of a person should they want to accomplish the challenge with a flourish, as they are demanding to conquer in both a physical and mental way. In such situations where your abilities are tested to their full extreme, it is easy to give up, as the completion of the task is a chore requiring more energy than you have to offer. This is where the fortitude of willpower is essential. Every life is filled with challenges, whether they are big, small, quick or tedious but the same level of satisfaction is achieved upon each of their completion. For Anorexia Nervosa sufferers everything revolves around a challenge; we pursue every opportunity to push ourselves and face them head on. Anorexia prospers in a miserable environment by misleadingly disguising itself as a friend and comfort blanket, isolating you from any true human support. Like the snake in Genesis it malevolently coerces us to enter tasks we KNOW we cannot complete so it can come to our ‘rescue’ upon the need to punish ourselves for our failures. The mission to overcome and beat Anorexia is no easy feat, but every seemingly miniscule step towards the light is an accomplishment; I must force myself to remember this in a bid to keep me motivated for recovery. In having willingly entered myself in the battle against Anorexia, I have since grabbed the bull by the horns and turned the challenges it has catapulted at me to my OWN advantage by counteracting the malicious thoughts it strives to implant in my mind. I am no longer going to let this disorder win without putting up a fight. I have had a taster (if you’ll pardon the pun) of what it is like to be me again and I am neither willing nor prepared to give it up again so easily. So I have compelled myself to set a string of daily challenges that I MUST and WILL complete in order to keep ploughing forward in recovery.

My parents have been constantly vigilant of everything that I consume throughout the day since realising that I could not be left utterly to my own devices. They do however, let me get on more or less with what I feel comfortable eating. Though it took them a long time- through a natural desire to protect their child- they reluctantly relinquished their power over what I chose to eat (not how much though!).  It has therefore only been upon my own decision that I would decide to accomplish a task involving ‘forbidden’ food. Rather traditionally, my family and I would always gather for dinner together in the evening, sharing our day with one another and bond over the home cooked food my parents always had prepared for us. I disrupted this familiar pattern by letting Anorexia selfishly intrude in meal-times and destroyed any jovial family chatter there might have been around the table. The competitive jibes I would make about my ‘larger’ portion size would tumble out without restraint and the incessant wariness required to keep the comments they made on my eating habits at bay at the risk of offending me, caused a tension-filled environment; it was far from ideal for our family bonding. I even went as far as developing a ridiculous sense of jealousy when my dog did not eat her food. Fortunately my competitiveness increasingly died down over time, as I was eating a different meal to my family at dinner- though it did create a bizarre setting whereby I would never be eating the same thing. My refusal to eat their food might have seemed somewhat offensive to my parents who would painstakingly slave away in the kitchen after a hard day’s work; they never complained however, as they were just glad I was eating. I hate being the odd one out and the fact I was eating so differently to them (having it regularly rendered obvious when my dad would innocently mention ‘what you’re having smells nice tonight, what is it?’) would uncomfortably draw attention to me whilst eating at meal times. I must therefore return to normality by eating home-cooked food again. It would be the biggest shame for me to continue denying myself the foods I had so loved whilst growing up- my parents being particularly gifted cooks. I have therefore in the past couple of weeks decided to eat the same meal as my family at least twice a week. So the series of challenges began.

Having a fear of fats caused me to refuse to eat anything that had been cooked in or touched even a drop of oil; my taste-buds became finely attuned to detect the smallest trace. I would reject any salad dressing and eat my meat dry, meticulously cutting away at anything that looked remotely fatty. This fear led me to exclude any home cooked sauces and dressings and so the food I was eating became very bland and tasteless- it is far easier to restrict food when it doesn’t taste exciting. I didn’t have the need to pretend that I did not enjoy what I was eating, as the food was so mundane. Last weekend was mother’s day and so I decided that my mum should not have to deny herself of a lovely tasty meal with her entire family. I specifically took it upon myself to thoroughly search for and suggest a ‘special occasion’ home-cooked meal that I would feel comfortable eating with them- this being the French ‘Moules Frites’ (mussels in a white wine sauce and chips). My parents were ecstatic at the thought of sharing a meal with me and I was easily convinced that I could manage the mussels, as sea food is ‘safe’ to me. Joining my family with eating the chips on the other hand was a very last minute decision. Up until the point of when they were in the oven and it was too late for me to turn back and request another less greasy side-dish, I had not allowed myself to envisage the thought of eating them. Having planned and psyched myself for this momentous challenge all of the previous week, I genuinely believed I would decide to eat something else. I didn’t. It had been virtually a year since I had last had a potato chip pass my lips and though I did weigh out a small portion, I came out triumphant by not only taking a bite of a chip (even this small amount would have been utterly forbidden to me a mere couple of weeks ago) but finishing my portion. Chips had become a devil’s food to me- excessive carbohydrates and oozing fat all jammed into one small innocent looking potato. This is my biggest victory so far and I was so excited at having managed to achieve it that it utterly dwarfed the guilt.

Throughout the week I continued overcoming challenges by having lentils in a white a sauce and barbeque chicken marinated in a sauce with a home-made couscous salad. I have only a very rough idea of how many calories there would be in what I am eating, it being impossible to calculate thoroughly. I am now mercifully far less strict on my calorie intake, having not set myself a particular limit (I do have a minimum) and not counting my daily consummation, as I am confident in knowing I have reached above and beyond the minimum 1800. It is generally out of habit but I still weigh out my morning apple juice not worrying whether I have poured out more than I would have previously rationed myself to. This breakthrough came one day whereby after having poured out my set amount, there were only a few millilitres left in the carton- it would have been silly to replace it in the fridge. Instead of going with my instinct of listening to the Anorexia and pouring the rest of the carton’s contents down the sink, I managed to do what any regular person would do and finish the remnants in my glass. The revolutions hence continued and my morning snack ritual became somewhat less rigid. I always have a nut and dried fruit snack pot mid-morning, weighing it out to a specific amount and only including a certain number of nuts. This past week I have increased the total calories within my snack by a staggering 100 calories without much anxiety, as I genuinely enjoy the taste having finally allowed myself to do so. If I fancy adding one more nut or a piece of fruit I will. I have an ability to now set myself to a minimum and should I feel a longing to surpass it then I should not burden myself with a notion of remorse- it is for my own benefit and I can only be healthier as an outcome.   

It is strange to think that I actually used to be the girl who on the special occasion of eating out would pride herself in not following the petty trend of ordering a typical ‘salad with dressing on the side’ because she was ‘watching her figure’ and preferring to choose according to my cravings- how things have changed. Going to the restaurant is a luxury for us all and therefore something my Anorexia has decided to link with as an indulgence. Though the dishes I would now tend to choose are generally low calorie and are prepared to the highest quality, I have associated restaurants with obesity; I imagine restaurants to serve mammoth sized portions to their customers. I realise this notion has accumulated via the governments constant health warnings on eating out or having takeaways on a regular basis, though I must learn to be reassured that they are not damaging when enjoyed in moderation (as with any type of indulgent food!). In the past few weeks however, I have eaten at the restaurant at least once a week, having gone with both a very good friend of mine (my first one on one restaurant experience since being ill) and my family, only ever upon my own suggestion and choice of venue. The very first time I was to go with my friend back in January I had a viciously tearful panic attack and was on the verge of bailing out on her had my parents not insisted I go; it ended up being a lovely evening and broke a restraint I had. We have been out for a meal together twice more since this debacle with each time becoming more comfortable, as I need not worry about when I must go home in order to fit in my meals around the socialising. I have been able to enjoy an evening whereby I will not constantly be checking the time to fit my next meal in, which creates a far more relaxed atmosphere for me to be myself in. My newfound confidence has made planning both family and social outings far easier to bear and I will now even go as far as requesting we go out for a meal. Mission accomplished.

 For the time being I have only been able to restrict myself to the specific restaurants that provide online calorie values- a shockingly small number do- so that I can pick my food accordingly without causing a scene when I am out. I have always been the one who took hours ransacking the menu to find the one dish that really stood out to my taste buds amongst all the delicacies. This tendency is one that has stuck with me but for a VERY different reason. I will read and reread a menu (well only the salad section if I am truly honest) thoroughly to decipher which dish would have the least calories or fat content, having looked up all the nutritional values beforehand. I am ashamed of myself at having to admit that I will look up the nutritional values of the meals of the other diners with me for my Anorexia’s satisfaction of knowing they consumed more. This is why that having now accepted the idea of the restaurant; I am willing to go forward to the next natural step of going to an independent restaurant and ordering food which I do not know the values of prior to eating. It is always a fear to go to a restaurant because the chef will never prepare the dish the same way and may add more grease than is necessary in my opinion. For an Anorexia sufferer it is important to understand that accepting to eat at a restaurant is a HUGE step and one that should be praised, not taken for granted and certainly not forced upon them. Not only is the knowledge that the food’s preparation and what has gone into it is completely out of our control terrifying, but eating amongst strangers in public is generally uncomfortable- many cannot even eat in front of their own families. Trusting others with my nutrition requires me to completely surrender my need for control.

Whenever one of my prohibited foods enters a topic of conversation, I am always asked whether and when I think I will ever be able to eat it again. By having finally learnt not to force me into reintroducing these aspects, I will gladly answer ‘eventually’. I can accept that eating these foods again is inevitable, as you only live once and it would be ridiculous to deny myself of something I loved so much. It is therefore justifiable to question why I cannot just eradicate this irrational fear now and just eat it. I wish I had a satisfactory answer to this, as I myself cannot fully describe the invisible obstacle that blocks me from quenching my desires and cravings for these indulgences.  As aforementioned, you must accept that recovery cannot be an over-night process no matter how much you might will it to be urged onwards. I move forwards step by step instead of taking my challenges at run whereby I would soon run out of steam and end up at a stand-still. I have the ability stop at particular moments to catch my breath and feel comfortable before moving forwards again. We must endeavour to remember the worn out quote ‘Slow and steady wins the race’ from the children’s fable of the hare and the tortoise. No matter how long it will take me, I am determined to reach the stage where I can enjoy my favourite dessert of the famously moreish bannoffee pie without cringing away from even thinking of eating a simple banana (let alone the toffee and whipped cream!!).

My mum asked me what made me suddenly be able to attempt to reintroduce a particular food-type my Anorexia had up until that point not allowed me to eat; it is a difficult question to answer. What I need is a physical evidence of a positive outcome which has arisen from my hard work. Once someone vocalises their pride in my achievements aloud it becomes solid proof that I am getting better and it is no longer just my own belief. This demonstration of success is more potent than the guilty thoughts my Anorexia can now only meekly proclaim. Denying myself food had starved me of any willpower leaving me weak and susceptible to surrendering to Anorexia and so in providing myself with nourishment, I have enriched and awakened the fighting side of me. Conjuring up the courage to attempt a new feat has become easier, propelling me into being more adventurous with food.  It has since got me wondering as to what motivates me to want to change; the simplest answer I can find is the pursuit of happiness. I have endured such hardship through my Anorexia and consequent depression that it was extremely debilitating and so once I got over my depression and allowed myself to accept that the past Solene is still within me, I was reminded of the carefree life I had and could STILL have. I have sampled the joys of life again and it has been immensely liberating; this is what pushes me forwards. Seeing my family enjoy being in my presence again and old friends specifically requesting my company has been the perfect stimulus for my recovery. I WANT to continue for them. Supressing and eventually exterminating Anorexia from imprisoning me is not merely a recovery, it is a freedom.