I thought I was recovered but am I really? I wasn’t obsessed with calorie counting or sticking to a particular number of calories. I was comfortable that I could decipher a correct portion size without the help of scales. When did this change? When did I lose this confidence I’d regained in myself? When did I lose hope? I’m not saying I have relapsed. I told myself I wouldn’t ever download any of the numerous apps available to keep track and religiously calculate how many calories you should have vs. how many you were actually taking in. But, like any vulnerable mind, I succumbed. I told myself it was because I was going to the gym more and I was striving for the ‘booty gains’, but was there an underlying need from the buried anorexia to attempt to resurface its ugly head? Throughout out this meticulous monitoring, I have very much remained within a healthy number of calories and haven’t necessarily driven myself to ever be in a calorie deficit but I have kept a very strict eye on my intake for nearly a year now. I haven’t lost weight or gained and I don’t know what changed within me but I guess it became a comfort. A necessity. It’s been a daily activity that I’ve actively attempted to keep a secret but I’d be unsurprised to find out that people close to me have noticed.
Throughout this time of starting to calorie count I have been continuing with my dentistry degree and managing to pass exams without too much stress. Yet I am ashamed to admit that there have been chocolate ‘binges’ that have driven me to almost insanity and a jealousy or even rivalry of anyone who I considered to be eating less or exercising more than me. Snacking I will always find hard to accept as normal but the jealousy I acknowledge to not being normal behaviour yet its often hard to let slip. I have started strength training at the gym trying to build muscle and regain a shape that I lost when I initially lost all the weight. I have enjoyed developing a muscular physique so I would actively say that losing weight is not my goal and I know that calorie surplus therefore will not harm me. But why does my monitoring of my calorie intake so want to resist these changes that I am so desperate to see in myself? Am I truly happy?
Having found that previous relationship breakdowns have inevitably led to the development/ relapse of my anorexia I have been very wary of and probably actively shied away from letting my heart go. I have had an intense fear that revealing my feelings and subsequently getting hurt would lead to a subsequent breakdown in my already fragile control. But I did let go. I allowed myself to love again. It has been a whirlwind year of happiness and mixed emotions, such is the way when you have intense and passionate feelings for someone. I was so relaxed, ordering takeaway foods as much as once a week, which was unheard of for my family growing up, let alone for me as a recovering anorexic. But now I’ve been hurt again. Burnt myself on the fire that I’d learnt would scar, yet readily and whole-heartedly replaced my hand into that burning and damaging flame. I don’t want to say I regret that decision but following what feels like the inevitable (ever the pessimist) breakdown of my recent and probably deepest relationship, it has left me petrified of what could be to come.
Stupidly, a month ago during exams I was meant to have a review for my antidepressants but I didn’t ‘have time’ to make one. I was happy at this time. Blinded. I thought I was invincible and above the pills. I did this last time I was ‘in love’. It’s now been a month since I have taken anything. I have always remained on the lowest prescribable dose of these drugs so for all I know they could be merely having a placebo effect. Yet last time I went off them in my love drunk stupor, which left me heartbroken, I had a relapse. I now find myself in a similar situation of having been so happy and now being heartbroken without any pharmacological intervention plus adding in the extreme stress of my final year of dentistry. Why do I destine myself to repeating mistakes? This recent heartbreak has left me petrified of what it could lead to. I know I am highly aware of my mental health, I have amazing family support and I have strong friendships to help me through, but is this enough. Am I strong enough? I can’t help but doubt my resilience in light of how broken I currently feel.
I am tired of having other people hurt me and subsequently dictate my mental health but at the same time I don’t want to be the ice queen I taught myself to be. Yet how can I resist the urge to shut my emotions off when there has been a repetitive pattern of immense hurt when I melt my barrier? Why shouldn’t I just guard my feelings and protect myself from the risk of a relapse? I wouldn’t say it’s just a way of avoiding dealing with my emotions; it’s a protection from the hurt I know damages me and affects me intensely. I wish I didn’t let other people dictate my mental health, but how can I separate my heart and soul from this?
New years resolutions are full of hope. I hope I can stay strong. I hope that this time being heartbroken wont break my mind. I hope that despite the anxiety and calorie counting that I can still consider myself if not recovered then far into recovery. I hope that I don’t relapse. I hope that my heart mends.
