Snow Longer a Problem

Pride. These days this word is often used in conjunction with an arrogant individual, however how can we deny someone the right to be proud of themselves for accomplishing an event they did not think themselves capable of. When it comes to recovery from Anorexia, pride will often be accompanied with guilt. Why should we feel joy in eating an ‘unsafe’ food we had so long been ecstatic in our ability to cut out? It is necessary to overcome the natural urges from the Anorexia and see how amazing it is that after suffering for so long, to have that first slice of bread. At first hearing the congratulations from others fills you with a self-loathing that drives you to feel the need to compensate for such ‘garish’ behaviour. Yet soon, the individual behind the Anorexia will come out and feel a satisfaction in the accomplishment; if there is no anxiety at first, then that means that you are not challenging yourself. As it gets easier to accept the pleasure from achievements, you can move on to your next challenge.

It is normal for me to describe my recent past as having its ups and downs, but I have come to accept that that is the nature of recovery from a mental disorder. Since admitting last time that I was feeling guilt for constantly snacking, I have realised that it is most likely a relative binge; a true binge session involves a great amount of food in a short period of time something in hindsight that I have most certainly not been attaining. Although I never displayed body dysmorphia whereby a sufferer sees themselves as bigger than they are, I have now come to realise I project such tendencies to my portion sizes. Therefore, although I feel as if I am eating a tremendous amount, my Anorexia is just sizing it up. It becomes easier to ignore these feelings if I start to count my calories, but I have been actively avoiding doing so, as this is not a normal behaviour. I still have to work on stopping weighing foods that I require to portion out and trust my instinct. However, I cannot yet decipher whether this behaviour is because I want to ensure I am having enough in terms of a regular portion, or if I am not having too much in terms of a regular portion; both these would have different connotations in terms of recovery.

Although my illness does hinder me socially, I believe I am not letting it affect me as much as I did during my relapse this time last year. A lot of social activities involve food or alcohol both taking me out of my comfort zone and ‘eating schedule’. I need to be more flexible with my eating times, yet I loathe eating when I do not feel hungry. These past couple of months although I have declined invitations to go out a couple of times because of this fear, the number of times I have dealt with eating ‘irregularly’ have far outweighed the rejections. There have been a few occasions where I have had to eat earlier than I usually would have liked, but it has allowed me to have Sunday roasts with some great friends, go to gigs and even Christmas dinner with my flat. It’s never easy to have other people in charge of when and what I will be eating but I am increasing my food repertoire quite significantly.

I did not realise how significant my relapse had been last year until I went to my GP and she told me I had put on around 5Kg since last Christmas. Having not really taken on board at the time of the relapse just how far I had declined, this made me appreciate how far I had come in the past year. I am still slightly underweight but I believe it can easily be remedied if I continue on the path I have been (with Christmas coming up there’s no avoiding weight gain!). I have also decided to continue antidepressants despite being on such a low dose it could just be a placebo effect. I do not want to risk any hormonal imbalances at such a crucial time such as my university dissertation and awaiting news on whether I will finally accomplish my dreams of becoming a dentist.

I have always been marginally pessimistic whereby I used to have a quote: ‘you never believe it until it’s in front of you’. What I meant by this is that I have so little self-belief that I cannot have high hopes for myself at the fear of being bitterly disappointed. Having been offered 2 interviews so far for dentistry, I cannot yet hope to be in education this time next year until I receive a firm offer, as last time I did so, I ended up having to take my backup choice following 4 rejections. I must admit, I am in a much better place this time around but I have a chronic fear that on paper I sound great yet, I cannot live up to expectations face-to-face. Not only this but having recently become the only single person in a house of 5 girls, I cannot help but wonder if there is anything wrong with me? I am not actively looking nor am I heaving off a stench of desperation, yet I do not feel people have any interest in me. Maybe I just need to work on my confidence!

So many people have helped me in my 3rd round of recovery (or is it my 4^th? I am so lost now!), yet one person has really stood out to me at university. She has been the most understanding person and encouraged me in my recovery; I do not think I would be quite where I am now without her. Fortunately I got to spend a week of skiing with her and my university this past week in the French Alps. It helped to have a supportive friend understand when I was too tired to go out drinking with the other students or push me to eat more when it was clear that I was not having enough to sustain myself in the cold conditions and extreme exercise in the form of skiing. Although, I did not have a pizza this past week as I have usually done skiing, I did have one of my own accord the week before… All alone!!!! Obviously I was eating in public with people I had never eaten with before or even admitted to having an eating disorder to (not that I hide it really!) and therefore I really worked hard to be ‘normal’ and I’m pretty sure no-one was any the wiser. I was eating quickly in ‘time restraints’; hard-core uni skiers are NOT patient people when it comes to lunchtime! For this I am proud and for this I still feel I challenged myself over the holiday and hey this time around my fluo pink ski trousers actually fit!

Bread has long been cut out of my staple diet but since this semester, I have had more bread than I have had over my illness; over that period I could literally count on my fingers the amount of bread I had. I have been actually ENJOYING the occasional sandwich and even having a bread roll with my lunchtime soup on occasions. Instead of feeling overtly guilty I have quite happily done so, although I still believe it will take time for it to be an accompaniment to my meals as opposed to part of my meals. I am proud of my accomplishments over this past year, I still have some way to go but I am not going to downplay how well I’ve done. So, Well done me.

Thank you for the Memories

Memory. A vital gift that gives us the ability to learn and build on past experiences. Remembering events we are fond of in our lives brings us joy, as we summon a mere whisper of the intense happiness felt at the time. It is important to remember and cherish our pasts. But what happens if our memory fails us; when we want to suppress the events in our lives that are pivotal yet so painful. Can we then honestly say we have learned, accepted and moved on from the pain? Locking away such memories is often the easiest path to choose in traumatic experiences, yet whether it is the right one very much depends on the fragility of the person’s mind. I find many, unlike me, are unwilling to relive past failures but this does not make them weak, as I can still give them a voice. We may not share the same memories or experiences, but we can all relate to an aspect or two from someone else’s struggles.

My jet-setting summer ended on a high with a trip to Italy with my sister. At first I was apprehensive of going due to my rapid weight gain over summer and we all know that Italian specialities consist of pizza or pasta i.e. carbs and more carbs. I have never been afraid of this food group and I have never really struggled to reintroduce carbohydrates to my diet, however I would never have them in such large quantities either. This is in addition to the knowledge of the generous addition of another of Italy’s delicacies, olive oil. When cooking for myself I NEVER use any type of fats. Whether I am pan-frying or stir-frying food, I steer clear of oil. Therefore, due to the accumulations of scary factors in the dishes I knew I would not restrain myself from having, I was definitely preparing myself for a big challenge.

From day one, I started the day off with a pastry in the plane, a pasta dish at lunch and polished this off with an entire pizza for dinner. Rather than feel horribly guilty, I let myself go with it; it is so bizarre how food is so much easier when I am abroad. My sister and I rekindled our rocky relationship despite spending so much time together over the week and generally getting on each other’s nerves. The amazing thing I have realised about my relationship with my sister is that we are simply so alike. When I fancied a pizza she was right there with me (despite her gluten intolerance) and the same went for our ‘gelato’ and Nutella crepe cravings; we generally seemed on the same page with eating. This made me realise that maybe I am finally getting back to normal and appreciating food and allowing myself to indulge in moderation. I can now officially reveal with pride (and a little horror) that I dug into 5 whole pizzas including the crust over the course of a single week!

I was recently told that my body hadn’t quite healed itself and that I had to take it easy. In pushing myself to be ‘normal’ it was easy to forget the repercussions of putting myself in situations that I am not entirely ready for; this would consist of drinking alcohol. With my return back to university, I have struggled with the knowledge that most social event involve some sort of calorie-intake. All I have wanted since the end of summer is to resume normality in my eating patterns, as I have really let myself go. I am so afraid of the fact that I cannot seem to stop eating horrendous amounts of chocolate, does this mean therefore that I have started bingeing?! Having so long restricted the amount of indulgent foods I would have and the knowledge that I still need to put on weight, I just can’t seem to stop nibbling away’ I have lost control of the control. What if I can’t stop? What implications will this have on my recovery and body confidence? I just can’t seem to stop…

I do not want to be the social recluse I became over the Christmas period last year, yet after a string of bad reactions to alcohol, I have been afraid of going out with my friends. This really puts a strain on relationships that I really count on, as I am deliberately leaving myself out of spending time with people. It makes me feel silly, boring and somewhat lonely despite knowing that so many people are behind me. It is hard to be so socially independent and enjoy the comfort of peace in my own room, as it limits my interaction time especially with my flat mates who are such lovely girls but far more out-going than I am. I sometimes feel I am so different to them, yet I know this is my own fault. I have so many memories of amazing nights out spent with my friends that I do not know what halts me.

When I look back 3 years, I remember darkness in my life. Not only in the dredged up feelings that lurk about my mind, but the picture seems almost grey in a clichéd way. I have unknowingly let the memories of this time trickle away; as they have lost the vivacity and poignancy they once held. Bizarrely, I feel that I cannot safely say the person in those memories was in fact me. My reflection in the present is that of a happy person and I see in myself all the things I have so far accomplished. I am becoming a whole person again, as I see the shrivelled ‘Voldemort-like’ creature cowering in the background of my reflection.  I have not quite dispelled that demon from my life, but I am deep in the process of doing so.

Summertime Madness

Holiday. For many, this is the opportunity to take the time off work and relax, taking a well earned break from the hustle and bustle of life. For someone like me however, this is when the real work begins. Leaving your home means leaving your comfort zone entirely and losing control of your usually rigid diet. It is stressful to know you are entering several days of eating copious amounts of food served in hotel buffets or restaurants; you must deal with the constant temptation to completely avoid eating because no one is monitoring you. However, it can also be a time when you lose control entirely by overindulging on ‘forbidden’ foods that you have so long resisted. Eating these food is not a problem per se, yes the weight does need to be put on, yet it is the repercussions you have to deal with upon returning home and seeing the results on the scales. Although like for any other person a holiday is rewarding in its escape from reality, you can never completely switch off the niggling guilt.

Last summer I thought it would be beneficial for me to spend the three months away from my studies relaxing.  I had just stopped my anti-depressants and I was somewhat content in life. I did not bargain for the constant boredom and feeling of solitude during this time and it resulted in my relapse over the winter. As a result of this, I was determined to spend this summer constantly on my toes; I have achieved this! Since returning from Africa I have barely had time to breathe, as less than a week later I had embarked on a week back in Newcastle to work. During my time there, it felt good to be in complete control of my food intake again; being solely responsible for myself I could eat what and when I wanted. During this time I saw my GP who said that I looked a lot healthier than when she first met me in January, despite finding out that I had in fact lost a little weight in Africa. This came as a shock to me, as I was certain I had gained quite a bit considering the amount of food I believed I was having. I guess what I hadn’t factored in was that I wasn’t snacking and I was constantly active during this time. We also came to the decision that I would stay on my anti-depressants for at least another year, as with my looming applications to Dentistry, I do not feel I could handle potential rejections without their support.

Upon returning home for a few days, I was aware that my annual family holiday was approaching, whereby I would be spending 10 days of eating buffets for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Having experienced this type of all-inclusive holiday before I was almost certain I knew what hardship would be awaiting me. This looming knowledge meant that I was very aware of what I was eating a couple of days before leaving, especially when going out for lunch with one of my very close friends. Usually at Wagamamas I would have a normal noodle dish, yet on that day I could not face eating such a large meal when I knew just how much I would be eating in the next few days. I should not let such things influence my choice when ordering food; I should force myself to order what I WANT, but I ended up ordering a salad. My mind will sometimes mix up what I want with what my Anorexia feels I should eat. The hardest part for me eating out, is ordering food, as I must battle within my mind the choice I must make; finally eating what I choose seems like nothing compared to this struggle.

My 10 days in Turkey however, were certainly not plagued with any restrictions; I ate more than I would ever usually have allowed myself to eat in previous years since I have been ill. The week started somewhat difficult, as my sister has recently been diagnosed with gluten intolerance and a lot of the more calorific items on the buffet that I was eating (including desserts), she was not able to have herself. As if this wasn’t enough, she suffered from a 4 day bought of gastroenteritis and was therefore barely able to eat over these few days. Although it is hard to see someone eat less than me, I did not let it deter me from what I wanted to eat nor the amount I wanted to eat despite how conscious I was of this. A lot of the foods were hard to resist especially the fresh Turkish pastries that were available at both lunch and dinner. On two occasions as I was at the dessert table, people felt the need to comment on how many calories there were per bite of these luxurious pastries. Normal people would laugh along but I found it hard to stomach (no pun intended). Fortunately, I still went along and ate my fix of these sinful desserts. On top of this, I even had numerous sugar-laden cocktails to finish off my calorie-filled days.

Knowing that I need to put on weight, I let myself gorge and binge on the buffet over my holiday, which scared me. What if I continue to lose control in the opposite direction and start eating too much because I feel I can and I have so long resisted the temptation? Over my time away I did put on well over 1Kg, which is s weight gain that I am not used to achieving in such a short period of time. I prefer to take it slowly and so since my return I have wanted to stick to a weight maintenance diet rather than restoration in order to allow my mind to catch up and accept the weight gain. However, I was not to be allowed to do so, as yet again after a mere week at home I was leaving to stay with some friends in Cardiff. From day one I was eating, yet again, out of my comfort zone. Fortunately, I was with a friend who is extremely considerate of my struggles and so I was able to voice my concerns. Speaking my worries aloud made me realise how foolish these thoughts are and how they are not my own yet belong to my Anorexia. During my with her, I was able to have a pizza, drink sugary cocktails, have a full Sunday lunch topped off with dessert and have a pancake brunch. Despite me being proud of the foods I ate, I am not proud that I ‘allowed’ myself these foods by not eating one of the most important meals of the day, breakfast. I NEVER allow myself to skip this nowadays, as I know how important it is for me to stick to 3 meals a day. I don’t know what possessed me or why I let it happen but I am ashamed that it did.

I have a couple more holidays lined up before I eventually trudge back to my last year at Newcastle. The next one comes at the end of the week, whereby I will be spending a week in France being fed by my generous grandmother. As much as I love spending time with my family, she does tend to love over-feeding us, however in recent years she is getting a lot better at cutting down to normal portions. It is for this reason that I am not too afraid of my time out there and I am even eagerly anticipating the French pastries! Following this, my sister and I will be leaving for Italy for a week together and again, food will be a big part of the enjoyment of the holiday. All I can say for now is pizza and pasta here I come!

Great Big Expectations

Expectations. An event that you are anticipating to happen. When suffering from an eating disorder you become somewhat of a perfectionist, setting the bar high for yourself and expecting to see the results. Should you fall short of such standards, you feel a failure that overrides any logical way of thinking. It can make it harder to accept yourself accompanied by a persistent need of punishment for what is perceived as an ‘underachievement’. Most of the time your food intake takes the biggest hit. The same expectations can be laid down for recovery. There is an unspoken pressure to wake up one day and suddenly ‘be better’ but that is unlikely if not impossible. Eating a ‘forbidden’ food one day with no problem would mean you are henceforward expected to be fine with eating it again; that is not the case. Recovery from an eating disorder often fluctuates with your mood and so in the most difficult of times you cannot be expected to find recovery easy.

Having recently undertaken my second year university exams and having achieved a high grade in my midterms (to the detriment of my health), I felt an overwhelming need to keep up the standard this term.  Yet, I could not find the motivation to work as hard as I had done previously. I would watch my fellow colleagues work day and night in the library, whilst I idled around aimlessly. What I had failed to take into consideration was that I had worked consistently throughout the year and so I did not need to cram at the last minute. However, I still felt guilty for my ‘laziness’. Fortunately, being on fluoxetine this time around, it was much easier to cope with the stress and I did not fall into a depression nor did my diet take a hit. In hindsight, having received my results, I realise that my need to pressurise myself was futile and I was perfectly able to achieve good results. I just needed to believe in myself.

On returning to the doctors before leaving for my summer break, I was weighed; it had been 2 months. Considering the effort I had made previously to increase my calorie intake and finding very little effect on my weight, I was disheartened. Yet I hoped beyond expectation that my work had finally been rewarded. Fortunately, I was not to be disappointed having put on 1Kg a month; a slow and steady weight gain I was comfortable with. I was proud of myself, yet scared of feeling gluttonous.  This somewhat took a toll on the types of foods I felt I was ‘bingeing’ on, as I found it difficult to eat the large portion of dried fruit and nuts I had been previously snacking on. This was not aided by my return home whereby dinner is served far earlier than I would have it at university, therefore my stomach would still be full from my extensive snack. Any normal person when they are not hungry would be able to skip a meal no problem, but I must rely on having my 3 meals a day and a snack in order to keep up my weight and restore it. It therefore makes me feel greedy when I eat despite being full. It seems an alien concept.

As summer rolled in, my trip to Tanzania was looming ever closer. Having booked it over Christmas when I was still losing weight, it had been a huge motivation to get myself back on track. My parents were adamant that at a low weight, they would not allow me to go. I was therefore grateful for my return on the path to recovery. Three weeks in Africa seemed daunting. Strangers would surround me and foods I was comfortable with would probably not be readily available. I expected to struggle; how wrong I was. My trip with Gap Medics was to become one of the most awe-inspiring experiences I ever had, as I got to shadow one of the most incredible dentists whilst out there. Not only this but I made friends and got close to people in such a short space of time, which I had never expected. Being used to staying somewhat solitary a lot of the time, I was not used to having people around me constantly, yet it was a breath of fresh air. I feel much more confident in myself coming back. I may actually be fun to hang around with again and that my eating disorder is NOT what defines me.

The food was hit and miss. Obviously within the space of three weeks I would have some ups and downs. The trip did not start positively in terms of food, as after nearly 48 hours of travelling to our final destination, I had barely moved an inch and my whole metabolism was sluggish. I was not the only one to feel this and so I was very aware of how little everyone was eating the first couple of days, this made it very difficult for me to subsidise myself properly, yet I persisted. Breakfasts would be laden with crepes and nutella, French toast and other confectionaries that were hard to resist. I had to keep reminding myself that I had to eat in order to have energy at the hospital. Fortunately breakfast was never so much an issue, as porridge and exotic fruits would also be available. Come lunchtime, some days I would be so wrought with guilt from a big breakfast that I felt the need to return to the house and have a salad or soup from the pantry, whilst others would go into town for lunch and order pizzas and Panini’s with no problem. Throughout the weeks I became more at ease and was able to join them; it was good to know that I could finally win through and enjoy myself.

Come dinnertime however, my resolve differed everyday. We were catered for and of course being in Africa, the majority of the food was carbohydrate based. VERY scary. At home my parents cook very healthily with no excessive oils and fats, yet in Africa the food was laden with cooking oil to add ‘flavour’ to the dishes and I found this very hard to handle. The food was served as a buffet and there was variety, so I could eat as little or as much as I liked. Buffets are one of my weaknesses with Anorexia, as I find it so much easier to underfeed myself, but I pushed myself to eat normally by discreetly observing other people’s normal portions. I was even able to keep up a normal pace of eating the whole time I was there. As the weeks passed I felt I was probably gaining weight, yet I felt increasingly more comfortable with the food I was being served and I started to enjoy it. On a couple of occasions I even went for seconds; I NEVER do this. I have always found it easier to eat when I am away from my routine and Africa definitely proved it. I was so glad that my days were not ruined by my eating disorder. In fact, I put it very little thought whilst I was out there compared to a typical day.

By not suffering from any body dismorphia, I have always been aware of when I look skinny and it knocks my confidence. Being skeletal is far from attractive and unfortunately, I do care how others perceive me. I was only just about ok with my weight leaving for Africa, but my arms- which have never been big- still looked as spindly as ever and my ribs, though not prominent, were visible. I was hyper aware of comments that could be made about my weight or even expected disgusted looks when I stripped down to a bikini. Yet, I found people more than accepting despite many off-hand comments on how ‘tiny’ I am; I am aware of the innocence behind them. My only criticism of the people would be when they would refer to the chicken as ‘anorexic’ due to the limited amount of meat to be found on them. It is not OK to use such a term in a derogatory way; it seems to downplay the importance and legitimacy of an eating disorder. Yes I am still underweight and I do aim to achieve a normal BMI, yet I would hate for people to find my current figure disturbing and disgusting.

Sometimes it’s easier to aim low for yourself, to avoid future disappointment, yet this is not a good way to live. Expecting to fail is miserable and I can vouch for that, as I have so long lived by these morals. By observing those in poverty in Africa, it may be cliché to come out with how I came to realise how lucky I am, but I truly did. These people were content, friendly and more often than not had smiles on their faces despite deprivation.  I must be more positive, as I accept things about myself that I have so long denied. I can be sociable and I can function in groups of people without coming across an outsider. I also do not feel the need to fake happiness in my personality, as I truly believe I have achieved a sense of serenity and peace in my life at the moment. So long I had been faking contentment but now I feel I am finally getting somewhere in life, heading somewhere and making something of myself. I just need to expect great things from myself and leave the Anorexia behind.