Perseverance. The tendency to
give up when the going gets tough is one that consumes us whenever we are faced
with a daunting challenge. It takes a lot of willpower for someone to follow
through with a difficult task despite there being seemingly no end to the ever
coming trials. Without the desire to soldier on we abandon our trail, leaving
us hopeless and somewhat frustrated with having wasted our precious time. Anything
is attainable if we set our minds to it. To prevail, it requires determination and
even should you not come out on top, you can personally commend your efforts
for having tried. It is easier said than done to feel pride in your performance
if you receive no gratification, but the simple knowledge that you did not
surrender when those around you most expected you to, can be satisfaction
enough; success is far sweeter when the
challenge has been full of tribulations. Overcoming your vulnerabilities shows
strength within you no matter how trivial it appears to others. Since
publicising my journey, many brave people have come forward in admission of
their own hardships with eating disorders. I admire these people. They show
courage. They show determination. They show that recovery can be possible.
The last month has been my most
testing since developing my eating disorder due to the numerous trips away from
home. I was expected to have gone either of two ways; I would not eat a
sufficient amount or I would over indulge and begin to binge-eat as a
compromise for the loss of control (this is common in eating-disorder sufferers).
When I cannot judge what a correct portion is, what is to stop me going either
way? My deepest fear is of beginning to binge eat, as I seriously crave
decadent foods. I fortunately yet
surprisingly managed to settle myself into a happy medium. It is not to say that
I have found it easy in any way, shape or form, nor does it indicate that I have
fully recovered from Anorexia. After the short week away in Paris with my
sister I embarked on a week holiday to Lanzarote with a very close friend of
mine. I was not worried about the food aspect prior to going away, as she was
the very first person I had eaten out at a restaurant with and she was
extremely understanding of the condition. We clarified beforehand that we were
very similar in the way we are early risers who eat breakfast, lunch and dinner
and enjoy a cocktail or two- to me any calorie laden beverage be it alcohol or
fruit juice seems like a ‘waste’ of calories - at a bar but are not
particularly ‘party animals’. In that respect we were perfectly suited to go
away together and handle my Anorexia.
My Anorexia decided to rear its
ugly head for the first time in a long time as I let it somewhat possess me on
the first evening. I was comfortable with the fact we were staying in a
self-catered apartment and therefore knew I could retain some of my control
over my meals. However, our early arrival meant that our room was not ready and
so we would have to eat our lunch at a restaurant. We started the holiday off
with a large celebratory cocktail- I forced myself to have my favourite pina
colada despite it being made with coconut cream- though they were unfortunately
not to our taste. I usually hate waste and the feeling that I have misused my
money by leaving anything. But when my friend merely drank a sip of her own cocktail,
I could NOT bring myself to drink much more of my own. Later at a cheap
restaurant we ordered the same thing, going for fish with my mum’s words of
‘the least fattiest meat is more fatty than the fattiest of fish’ swimming
around my mind, so I had no qualms about eating a heavy restaurant lunch. Then
the dish came out. The vegetables were coated in butter and the fish was
drenched in olive oil. It was in fact tasty- not that I would ever admit it out
loud- but the taste of so much fat was overpowering. I made myself remember I
had not had a snack during the day and so this would make up for it. Yet that
evening was a different story. The combination of a lack of sleep, home
sickness, a loss of control, a ‘fatty’ lunch and my friend not eating breakfast
created an environment full of tension for me. Again my friend and I ordered
the same thing, chicken fajitas. However, when it became clear that after
filling her first wrap that she would have no more, I knew I had not eaten a
satisfactory amount that day to only have the one myself. I kept asking her
whether she would eat more and she assured me she would, but she just picked at
her virtually full plate of chicken whilst I felt compelled to fill another wrap,
whilst observing her like a hawk. After my second wrap I had a panic attack. I
felt greedy and weak for eating what I felt was twice as much as her (the
Anorexia decided to disregard the bread roll and butter she had eaten at both
lunch and dinner).It was not my friends fault, she had eaten to her capacity,
but I could not help but resent her for not having had another fajita. I
realise now just how accommodating my family are with me; they will eat to
comfort me.
Other than that first night, I
had no further problems eating. I would have my usual bowl of porridge with
water in the morning followed by a light lunch and then dinner at the
restaurant in the evening. I went for dishes that I wanted and not according to
what my mind felt had the least calorie content. It was easier for me when I
did not eat the same as my friend as it meant I was not provided with a direct
comparison of how much ‘more’ I was eating than her. I felt safe and happy enough
to indulge with ice creams and Nutella crepes but only because my friend did.
As with my sister in Paris, if she could do it then so could I. She supported
me a lot throughout the holiday and reassured me that we were eating healthily
and that I did not look too skeletal in my bikini. There was the constant worry
at the back of my mind however, that I was being over-indulgent. The mere idea
that I was eating restaurant portioned food every evening and a dessert led me
to imagine I would be gaining weight at a both alarming and uncontrollable
rate. I know I still need to put on around 4kg more, but the closer I get to my
target the more worried I get that my weight will not stop soaring. My return
home was fraught with anxieties about how much weight I might’ve put on (it
turned out I have in fact only put on around 200g) and so when my mum suggested
pasta for dinner I broke down in tears saying I was uncomfortable with the rate
at which I was gaining and that I felt I had been over eating the past few
weeks and therefore my upcoming 10 day holiday to Mexico was daunting. I ended
up having only a tomato for dinner.
Though it may sound like I have
regressed to some degree, I think I was simply overwhelmed by the number of
challenges I had been able to overcome in the past few weeks. I have drunk
alcohol, I have ordered regular meals off menus, and I have eaten at a regular
pace… Most importantly I have enjoyed myself. Since being home I have been out
socialising seeing people I had not seen in a year. I was very apprehensive and
somewhat embarrassed about the fact that they had most likely read my blog and
the last time they had seen me I was unbelievably frail-looking. I had no
reason to fear it as I was accepted back with open arms though we skirted
around the subject. It was not mentioned once however awkwardly it was looming
over our minds or on the tip of our tongues during conversations. When a discussion
struck up about anti-depressants I did not mention my struggle with depression
and consequent consumption of this medication, as they were making pleasantries
about how it merely concerned suicidal thoughts. Though it was certainly not
intentional, I was made to feel ridiculous for being on anti-depressants myself
at such a young age when I should be care-free. This served to reinforce my
belief about mental disorders being a social taboo subject and has made me more
determined to get my views across. I wish I did not have the need to explain
myself but why should I be made to feel embarrassed?
On one particular night on
holiday, I observed a large man sporting a t-shirt with the slogan ‘I beat
Anorexia’ as an ‘ironic joke’ on the back. Though in hindsight I do realise it
was all a bit of fun, as this man clearly enjoys his food and has never
suffered from an eating disorder, I do not understand why someone would make a
joke of it. If I had never been through Anorexia, then maybe I would have found
some humour in it, but I have and so I can’t. No one would dare make a joke of
physical illnesses for example if an extremely hairy man wore an ‘I beat
cancer’ t-shirt; it is NOT socially acceptable and is simply foul ‘humour’. So
why do we think that we can do it about eating disorders? Initially I did not
mention my anger, but I have since not been able to ignore the crushing sense
of having been made fun of. Anorexia is serious and it should be treated so.
Throughout the weeks I retained
the idea that you only live once and that I should make the most of the here
and now. I must remember that despite the fact that I have eaten out an
immeasurable number of times, I was never greedy or over-indulgent. In my mind
restaurant food holds a notorious reputation of being fatty, but this is so far
from the truth in high quality restaurants. With this in mind I have been able
to continue on my path to recovery. I only really began the recovery process in
January and I can now see how far-with the help of my supportive family- I have
come. It serves as a lesson to us all that when all hope seems lost and you
feel no one believes in you, to just remember that you are not alone. Many of
us find solace in someone dear to us and this motivates us to persevere. If you
feel you cannot do it for yourself then believe you can do it for others. I’m
in recovery for my family, my friends, fellow struggling sufferers but above
all for my future.
