Hidden Truths

Hiding. This is the concealment, or indeed, the cover-up of a truth that one would rather not divulge. Despite the huge leaps that society has made in the awareness of mental illness, I find that it is still very much a social taboo. Supressing your feelings and inner most fears has very much become the norm in this day and age, yet it is something that we must fight against. The problem is how do you fight for something you are still afraid to not be accepted for?  Most of our society however, has finally achieved an understanding and maybe even a respect for those who share their experience with psychiatric problems. But what if you reveal yourself and fall on that minority of people who both do not accept you and label you a ‘freak’? What if people end up treating you differently? These are all questions that run through an anxious mind before deciding whether or not to come out of hiding and they are also the questions that keep people from doing so. Therefore, mental health remains a societal no-no.

Unfortunately, with the start of a new degree, I have not only had limited time to write, but I have also been afraid to. Making new friends is great, however, I still feel I cannot just go around revealing my history with mental illness so early in a relationship. I do not want it to be my defining feature as a person, as I feel I have grown beyond the person I used to be when I was ill. I think this is a normal fear for me to harbour when people are still my acquaintances, despite the fact that I am not afraid to reveal my past and I am in fact, more than a little open about it! I must remember however, that I write my blog to release my pent-up feelings and with the start of my intense degree in dentistry, this is more crucial than ever. So where to start since I last wrote in April?!

My 3 years at Newcastle ended on a high when I managed to secure myself a first. I took the final year in a far more chilled manner than I had the second year during my relapse and therefore, came out of it a happier and more fulfilled person. The weight I had worked so hard to make up during my first bout of anorexia finally crept up to a healthy BMI and people were complimenting me on how great I looked. Instead of making me recoil at the thought of being the biggest than I have been in maybe 3-4 years (and I’m aware it’s still not big), I took it as my greatest achievement. I am so proud of myself. This is when I realised that not only have I recovered physically, but also my mind has finally caught up. There are many things I wouldn’t have dared eat or would have thought twice and made myself feel immense guilt for eating, that I am beginning to reintroduce into my diet- pizza and bread amongst other things. Of course I still find myself limiting certain things but it is on a scale that is incomparable to where I have ever been before. I am less afraid.

Yet again the summer I had was filled with holidays and due to having so much fun, they were over in a flash. It started with a week in Croatia with my sister, whereby the food, wine and cocktails (basically all the things with calories) were the highlight of the trip as opposed to a fear. That is not to say the sights were not incredible too! I allowed myself to crave a pizza, get excited to eat it and admit to enjoying it. I used to find it hard to say that ‘forbidden’ foods were tasty at the fear of being thought to being better recovered than I wanted to appear. It is hard to explain why I wanted to be seen to be far deeper into the illness than I was, but I put it down to selfishly wanting more attention from my parents as well as lowering their expectations of me so I could recover at my own pace. Of course I prefer the latter excuse but I can’t help but feel I have been a bit of a child at times with the anorexia. 

 Turkey then followed with my family, whereby we returned to the same resort we had gone to the previous year. Knowing the standard of the buffets that were laid out for us breakfast, lunch and dinner, it was not surprising that it excited both my whole family and me. I have to admit we were not disappointed. We certainly made the most of the baklava- a Turkish pastry drenched in lashing of honey and immensely calorific- and the amount of food I was eating came as an after thought rather than being at the forefront during every meal. This allowed me to eat what I wanted and at the quantities I wanted to. Of course I have a feeling I will never be entirely care free of my diet, but I do not feel it runs my life anymore.

Yoga and Pilates have been exercises I have started to be doing on a regular basis. Having bought myself a yoga mat and found good online tutorials, I have become more motivated to embark on a full healthy lifestyle. Eating well is just one of the hurdles, I must exercise in a constructive manner too. However, I do find myself feeling I NEED to do exercise purely to counteract the amount of chocolate I have been eating. I have frequently voiced my concern over what I can only call my chocolate addiction, but I just can’t seem to stop myself buying and eating it. This feels incredibly alien seeing as my whole dilemma with mental illness began due to my over-achieving nature and impeccable if not extremely dangerous self-restraint! I just don’t know how to stop, despite constantly thinking I’m going to end up like a blob one day (I have yet to actually even look remotely like a blob and this is probably what makes me reluctant to stop).

Finally this brings me to my first month studying dentistry at Aberdeen University. Having had the whole experience of doing a degree before, I was only slightly apprehensive of going back for another 4 years. I think the fact that I have managed to settle in so quickly is probably not what I would probably have described a miracle, but because I have far more self-confidence, which thankfully comes out in my personality. The people on my course have also helped in that respect and we seem to have fallen into a happy rhythm as if we’d know each other for years. I have for the meantime however, decided to stay on fluoxetine (a decision supported by my GP), as I feel the change of working pace and environment would not be a good time to start messing around with my hormones. Although, I feel better than I have in ever so long, I am not willing to risk it. However, I think the fact that none of my new friends have been any the wiser of my mental health history (unless if it has slipped out during drunken DMC’s A.K.A drunk meaningful chats) despite having spent a whole weekend in Leeds with them recently, means that I am a place where I would say I am on the verge of being recovered. In fact it has never felt so close.