Adaptation. When faced with a
different environment that is unknown to us, we tend to amend our behaviour in
order to conform to what we believe is expected of us. How do you then
distinguish between who you really are and want to be and the person that you
have been perceived to be in a given situation. In most cases an adaptation can
be beneficial, as we are given the opportunity to leave our turbulent past
behind and create a more genuine persona, in other cases the change is drastic
and turns you into a person you had never wanted to be. Having had an eating
disorder whereby I would aim to control every aspect of my eating habits, it is
hard for me to not feel completely lost in a situation where I have no control
i.e. the way I appear to others. Unfortunately, the freedom of relinquishing
control has become so euphoric that I have entered a path of apparent
self-destruction where I have no idea how to reign in my emotions anymore in
the fear of becoming overly restrictive again. As Christmas approaches I have
become increasingly aware of my need for a ‘time out’ from university and the
independent life I have been thrown into.
This particular season is always
difficult for someone with an eating disorder. The cold weather requires us to
consume more calories in order to keep up our body temperature. However, what
happens when you are unable to remember how to adapt your intake in moderation
in response to your body’s changing needs? Particularly these last couple of
weeks, the thought of being back at home with my family has been quite daunting
in the respect that I will no longer be entirely in control of what I eat and
when I eat again. In a way, it will be a relief to relearn what correct
portions are; I continue to worry I overfeed myself, despite me KNOWING that it
is doing more good than harm. My grandmother is a firm believer of a hearty
meal, always cooking too much for her loved ones and knowing I will be spending
the Christmas period with her is quite terrifying in regards to food, no matter
how much I look forward to spending quality time with my family. The whole idea
of this month being filled with celebrating by eating decadent foods and
drinking calorie laden alcoholic beverages has been looming over me for quite
some time. I have subconsciously adapted my diet recently in order to ‘prepare’
for the food ahead. I have of course been mindful of just how much I am eating and
making the effort to eat a correct amount, however there is the ever present
thought of just how much weight I will potentially put on over Christmas.
I now look in the mirror and see
the body shape I used to have before I was ill. Despite this when I weigh myself
I am only a couple of kilos under my target weight, which makes me wonder what I
would look like with that much more weight on me. I foolishly try to
rationalise that I need not put any more weight on because I lost all my muscle
due to starvation. The common knowledge that muscle weighs more than fat makes
me think that maybe I am at a correct weight… It is hard without professional advice
to convince myself I should put on more, even though my logical scientific brain
knows that I could do with at least a few more grams. What worries me the most
is noticing the cellulite that has appeared around my thighs due to the uneven
fat deposit which is inevitable after such dramatic weight loss. I am somewhat
sickened at the site and I can feel my heart fluttering with fear inside my
body upon me seeing it. I am ashamed of it. My upper thigh and bum were my ‘problem’
area prior to developing Anorexia, with their return the anxiety and dislike have
also made their appearance. What I must constantly remind myself is just how
much I genuinely missed having these features when I was at a low weight and
not to fear them but embrace them as who I am. Despite this I cannot help but
scrutinise my body in the mirror for where exactly the weight I have gained has
accumulated.
Of course anyone looking at me
would think me ridiculous for having such petty body hang-ups but they do not
truly understand the extent to which my body has changed over the past few
months and readapting my mind to seeing a healthier figure in the mirror does
take some time and getting used to. With this acceptance however, is coming the
increased urge to start exercising and toning up. This is another fear. What if
I once again take it too far, or what if I am judged for exercising? Also what
if I am restricted from actually exercising from a third party purely because
they fear I am returning to old habits? This is a new dilemma I am going to
have to face now that my body is returning to normal. Like any normal adult, I
must exercise in order to keep fit, it is finding that moderation again and
learning to do exercise because I enjoy it as opposed to having a goal to lose
weight, is a hurdle I will have to face.
Upon deciding to visit my brother
at his university for the weekend I had no time in which to make myself a lunch
before I was to leave for my train. I was therefore faced with the task of
buying food at the station in which to eat on my journey- this was my chance to
challenge myself. I went into the nearest supermarket because I knew there
would be calorie information on the food and I was preparing myself for the
biggest challenge yet... to eat a sandwich. This daunting task was only slightly
appeased with my knowledge that I had had no time to eat breakfast that morning
and so a sandwich would not harm me. As part of the supermarket’s mealdeal, I was
also able to choose a snack to go along with my sandwich; this turned out to be
my very first packet of crisps- doritioes. I did not simply go for a plain
sandwich either; I chose a chicken filled sub. I was not so worried because I
had the calorie information in front of me to prove that I was not eating an
extortionate amount. This fateful day was not to end there with breaking
terrific feats; I was to experience my first proper Chinese takeaway with my
brother that night. I did not simply go for the duck and pancakes as I usually
would, knowing that this would be the least of the calorific dishes. Instead, I
chose the dish that sounded most appealing to me on the menu, which is
something I would rarely do at a restaurant and I even topped it up with a side
dish of rice. Instead of feeling immensely guilty, I was somewhat proud of
myself for having achieved this and all in one day. It showed me it only takes
a little courage to go a long way in recovery.
I do have my fair share of ups
and downs, but with some failures come some victories in my recovery. Yet it seems
it is the failures that seem to stick in people’s minds and define me. Nobody can
be perfect and I must learn to accept that I cannot please everyone however
much I try to change myself. I therefore should stay true to who I am. This however,
is made harder with the fact that I have lost my sense of identity and who I am
and so it is very much a trial and error game in determining the person I have
now become. I want to come across as head strong but I feel unbelievably lost
at times and I tend need reassurance from wherever I can get it to show me I am
on the right track to recovery. Sometimes I push the boundaries of what is
acceptable too far, but this is a learning curve. I am adapting to my second
chance at life and it will take time for me to settle into what I am
comfortable with.
