Annoyrexia

Frustration. An emotion that is derived from the Latin translation of ‘in vain’- the term used to describe the uselessness of a task or its lack of effective results. This sentiment can be felt upon the annoyance borne from not achieving a standard that you had formerly believed to be your best; often ensued from setting the bar too high for yourself. It can equally be experienced when an obstacle causes a hindrance which prevents us from achieving the task we set out to do. With a mental disorder such as Anorexia, the frustrations cultivate inside of you at your inability to be competent enough to battle life’s numerous and inevitable impediments. Soon enough the build-up causes the feelings to erupt out in an uncontrollable and often unconstructive way hence forcefully ejected from us as anger. I would ridicule my primary school headmaster who would call upon his ‘feely-bottle’ in school assemblies to metaphorically portray how we can keep our emotions at bay in a tightly lidded bottle until it would become too full and burst open. At a young age we are rarely vexed by the anticipated disappointments in life, blessed with a blissful ignorance of the pain these dissatisfactions lead to. I therefore did not appreciate the full significance of his teaching. Experience is the only true way that can lead to a complete understanding by imparting us with an incontestable knowledge. Anorexia has enlightened me of life’s perils in a way that has forced me to mature beyond my years. There is a persistent frustration that prowls about my mind, endlessly clawing at the impenetrable barrier created by my Anorexia that prohibits me from eating particular foods. Overwhelming frustration will rear within me again when my body is incapable to perform in the way I will it to, due to the consequential physical weakness from my months of forced starvation. I have suppressed this feeling for far too long, unwilling to unnecessarily further the burden of my illness on others. It has come to the stage where I must vent.

Having finally reached a stage whereby I do not punish myself so much for succumbing to the Anorexia and by only permitting myself to carry the entire blame of the subsequent issues, I get distressed upon hearing people judge my eating disorder as ‘self-inflicted’. I recently read the daily mail which included an article on ‘manorexia’ (term coined to describe male Anorexia sufferers) to satisfy my curiosity on what the media and its readers had to say on eating disorders so I studied the piece and its comments to its entirety. Though I am aware that these tabloids horde a range of extremely opinionated people, I was not quite prepared to have divulged to me so blatantly the attack on the seemingly selfish demeanour of Anorexia sufferers. A poignant comment left by a prejudiced and judgemental reader stated ‘Great. Just what the NHS needs. More self-inflicted illnesses’ and further insulted Anorexia sufferers by deeming them ‘self-absorbed’. Only upon reflection however, do I realise why this particular critique disgruntled me to such an extent; the reader made a verdict that we did not deserve NHS help unlike the unpreventable physical disease sufferers such as cancer. This concept has crossed my mind many a time and I still cannot find it within me to shake away the theory that I brought it upon myself so I do not warrant any help, let alone be praised for my ‘bravery’ at writing about my experience. I unfortunately don’t believe I will ever fully be able to eradicate this feeling though I have in time learnt to accept that I- like any rational being- did not choose to become ill. I was hurt by these false allegations presented in spiteful words which caused a maddening anger to arise in a bid to defend myself and other sufferers. I feel such exasperation in the knowledge that I cannot make anyone who has not fallen victim to Anorexia fully comprehend the disorder (obviously not wishing it to befall on anyone), yet I still feel I have achieved a clarification of the disorder to those who wish to understand.

Heavily Aweighted Apologies

Sorry. A five letter word that in many cases must be wrenched from our unwilling mouths to apologise for something we have done badly. Its use has been exploited to such an extent whereby it is near impossible to achieve any semblance of sincerity from it being spoken aloud, sounding almost phony to its intended recipient. This poses a dilemma when one feels a genuine regret for the hurt they have caused and wishes to apologise with true honesty, with no word able to convey the depth of their remorse. Subsequently, we are submerged in our guilt due to the inability to express our grief for what we have done to another- unable to ask for their forgiveness. The culpability swallows you up by burdening you with a horde of unresolvable ‘what ifs’. The key is not to look back in regret but to instead strive to solve your wrongdoing by actively showing redemption until you have reached the atonement you sought out for. If we are willing enough, we can all be forgiven. It is of importance to remember however that you cannot begrudge the life you could have had if you had behaved differently but aim to make your future more satisfying by learning from your mistakes; it is only through experiencing blunders that we can make a conscious effort to change. As a sufferer of Anorexia Nervosa, it took the acceptance of the offenses I had instigated since succumbing to the spiteful disorder to begin the journey I am currently on to recovery. I hurt my most cherished relations by permitting the Anorexia to exile me from the very people who could lend me the most support. In becoming so insular I disregarded the emotions of others, deliberately severing the vital connection I had with them due to my Anorexia’s need to conquer me.  The disorder required me to isolate myself in order to continue to vanquish the person I once was by segregating me from those who would keep me on the path of sanity. Though I am consistently doubtful of the way people can truly care about me, the only way of pushing those who would aid me to recovery away was to hurt them. And so I did. For this I am sorry.

I was lulled into a trance created by my Anorexia, which led me to believe my success in rigidly controlling my food and exercise was the only way of consoling me of my previous failures. What it failed to allow me to notice was the pain it caused others to see me destroy myself and outwardly enjoy it. I was selfish. Snapping out of this dream-like state brought about the realisation of how much damage I had done socially, but the true comprehension was only gleaned upon reading the testimonies I asked my family to write. Though it is normal for every family to argue, last year I seemed to be at the centre of every debate that ensued within my household. It was therefore difficult for me not to feel to blame for each and every quarrel, despite my parents’ insistence that if it wasn’t about me they would have disputed another subject. These family debates are normal, however the ones between my sister and I were on an altogether more significant level. My siblings processed my disorder in an altogether different way to that of my parents, unsurprising due to the unique relationship one has with their brother or sister. I believe my siblings and I have learnt from our dad in the way we keep our deepest sentiments buried underneath layers of false contentment- hence the way they therefore coped with my Anorexia is utterly mystifying to me. I am in no doubt however, that the resulting angry outbursts and spiteful comments we made to one another was a mere glimpse of the tumult within. Thus it was with intense trepidation that I explored the intricate layers of their thoughts and feelings.   

Weighing Up the Consequences

Guilt. Being guilty comes from the actual perpetration of a crime but the sentiment of guilt has an altogether ulterior meaning. Guilt is a feeling that occurs upon the realisation of any wrongdoing we may-or even in some cases may not- have done; it is often followed by an inevitable regret. We are all guilty of many things and depending on the type of person we have been raised to be it always differs to what degree we wish to admit to having caused offense hence embracing to being at fault. Occasionally, we are so wrapped up in our own lives we inflict pain upon others unintentionally, which leads to a natural feeling of guilt. This is exactly the case with Anorexia Nervosa sufferers. Having been so insular these past months I could only speculate at the hurt I caused my family, blaming myself a lot of the time for any argument which had arisen this past year. I can see that I appeared very selfish and so that guilt has overwhelmed me to the extent of nearly destroying me; I can never be sorry enough.

Asking my closest relations to write their sentiments behind me and my development of Anorexia was not an easy feat. I was touched by their acceptance of the task and in the mature way even my younger sister handled reliving and visiting the obvious resentment towards me. I willed them to be as honest as humanly possible, as only from a true testimony can one really understand what it is like for the family members. I respect them for their honesty. I knew it would be a gruelling read having had a prior inkling of what their true feelings were. In reality, I could never have been truly prepared to read what they had to say. For once I can see what it must have really been like for them after having had the harsh honesties lain so starkly in front of me. Every poignant revelation was a truth I had deep down known to be a fact but had attempted to turn a blind-eye on, as it hurt me too much to accept. My brother would always say ‘the truth hurts’ when we would play fight as younger children. Though I had always been sceptical of its meaning due to the way he had always used it to mock me, these words spoken by a young boy are some of the wisest. I can no longer hide from these accounts. They are genuine…

Weight Lifting

Challenge. We all know what this word means, but to find a definition is- well- a challenge in itself isn’t it? Challenging is a demand made to someone whereby they must show their strength and determination in completing an arduous task. Such traits are required of a person should they want to accomplish the challenge with a flourish, as they are demanding to conquer in both a physical and mental way. In such situations where your abilities are tested to their full extreme, it is easy to give up, as the completion of the task is a chore requiring more energy than you have to offer. This is where the fortitude of willpower is essential. Every life is filled with challenges, whether they are big, small, quick or tedious but the same level of satisfaction is achieved upon each of their completion. For Anorexia Nervosa sufferers everything revolves around a challenge; we pursue every opportunity to push ourselves and face them head on. Anorexia prospers in a miserable environment by misleadingly disguising itself as a friend and comfort blanket, isolating you from any true human support. Like the snake in Genesis it malevolently coerces us to enter tasks we KNOW we cannot complete so it can come to our ‘rescue’ upon the need to punish ourselves for our failures. The mission to overcome and beat Anorexia is no easy feat, but every seemingly miniscule step towards the light is an accomplishment; I must force myself to remember this in a bid to keep me motivated for recovery. In having willingly entered myself in the battle against Anorexia, I have since grabbed the bull by the horns and turned the challenges it has catapulted at me to my OWN advantage by counteracting the malicious thoughts it strives to implant in my mind. I am no longer going to let this disorder win without putting up a fight. I have had a taster (if you’ll pardon the pun) of what it is like to be me again and I am neither willing nor prepared to give it up again so easily. So I have compelled myself to set a string of daily challenges that I MUST and WILL complete in order to keep ploughing forward in recovery.

My parents have been constantly vigilant of everything that I consume throughout the day since realising that I could not be left utterly to my own devices. They do however, let me get on more or less with what I feel comfortable eating. Though it took them a long time- through a natural desire to protect their child- they reluctantly relinquished their power over what I chose to eat (not how much though!).  It has therefore only been upon my own decision that I would decide to accomplish a task involving ‘forbidden’ food. Rather traditionally, my family and I would always gather for dinner together in the evening, sharing our day with one another and bond over the home cooked food my parents always had prepared for us. I disrupted this familiar pattern by letting Anorexia selfishly intrude in meal-times and destroyed any jovial family chatter there might have been around the table. The competitive jibes I would make about my ‘larger’ portion size would tumble out without restraint and the incessant wariness required to keep the comments they made on my eating habits at bay at the risk of offending me, caused a tension-filled environment; it was far from ideal for our family bonding. I even went as far as developing a ridiculous sense of jealousy when my dog did not eat her food. Fortunately my competitiveness increasingly died down over time, as I was eating a different meal to my family at dinner- though it did create a bizarre setting whereby I would never be eating the same thing. My refusal to eat their food might have seemed somewhat offensive to my parents who would painstakingly slave away in the kitchen after a hard day’s work; they never complained however, as they were just glad I was eating. I hate being the odd one out and the fact I was eating so differently to them (having it regularly rendered obvious when my dad would innocently mention ‘what you’re having smells nice tonight, what is it?’) would uncomfortably draw attention to me whilst eating at meal times. I must therefore return to normality by eating home-cooked food again. It would be the biggest shame for me to continue denying myself the foods I had so loved whilst growing up- my parents being particularly gifted cooks. I have therefore in the past couple of weeks decided to eat the same meal as my family at least twice a week. So the series of challenges began.

Special Treatment

Psychotherapy. This takes place in a private place and enables you to talk about yourself, relieving your anxieties and emotions in a bid to learn the basis of these sentiments without judgement. The exploration delves deep into the sub-conscious of your mind to uproot revelations- something we are rarely forthcoming to do without coaxing. People will seldom admit to needing help or finding comfort in someone else at the risk of seeming reliant on this source. Reluctance to expose ourselves to someone we barely know leaves you requiring to build a trusting relationship between you and your therapist before any rummaging can be made. This particular connection with a therapist can take months to construct, whereby until you feel ready, you will not fully disclose all the information by withholding the brunt of your angst and divulging the bare minimum. Therapy can be regarded as a relationship between you and the therapist, as they will become someone you feel you can trust so the sessions are often focused on an engagement with the therapist other than just plain old treatment. With most psychological issues, there is no single cure that will work reliably time and time again, unlike a physical pain which can disappear by popping a pill. A trained therapist must adapt their way of helping each individual via trial and error techniques, as no two patients are alike, finding benefits within the various treatments. What makes therapy so different for each case, is that no one person will be the same or will seek solace from a therapist for the same reason no matter how similar their background situations might be. Due to the slightly different approach each therapist undergoes with treatment, some patients will prefer to shift through different therapists, whilst other find it more useful to stick to the one they feel most at ease with. With each patient that undergoes treatment, a therapist will learn something new, as a successful recovery is achievable mostly by experimental practices. With Anorexia Nervosa, due to the diverse causes by which someone may develop the disorder, it is tricky to produce the correct method of treatment straight away. Rarely will a proposed treatment be effective on the first attempt, therefore reinforcing that there is no ‘quick-fix’ method to recovering from Anorexia.

Aweighting Recovery

Expectations. Whether it is what we want to do with our lives or what others would wish upon us, the need to fulfil our deepest desires leads to an inevitable requirement to succeed. Taking the shortest path is usually the easiest option in the trouble-free seeking way of life our society has adopted. Though it may be the quickest way to reach the top it is very often by far the least painless way. We must unknowingly sacrifice a lot along the way and the making of rash decisions leaves us more often than not in regret, as we have not contemplated the outcomes or impact of taking such a leap. Rushing to reach the top would be accomplishing our dreams as quick as possible but when you take stock and look around, you realise that in taking the easy route you have lost a lot more than you have gained. I try not to be pessimistic but the typical warning of the higher you climb the further you have to fall does hold some logic, however I believe you will only fall by climbing hastily causing you to lose your footing and to stumble to your defeat. In taking it steady and earning your way to the top, only then do you feel worthy of that prime position. The comfort of knowing it is deserved leads to a determination to stay at the top surrounded by those who supported you along the- perhaps longer and more turbulent but more successful- way. When suffering from Anorexia Nervosa, pushing yourself towards the goal of recovery when you are not fully ready, leads to a foreseeable relapse.

The constant opposing thoughts which are like forceful repelling magnets in your mind make the step to attempting recovery very tough. After the first meeting with the consultant who officially diagnosed my Anorexia, he revealed the harsh truth that my rate of weight loss had surmounted to a terrifying 1Kg per week; fatal when at a BMI (body mass index) of 14.8. My primary ‘increase your calories as quick as possible’ approach to recovery was due to not being endorsed in my Kavos holiday with my friends ‘unless there was evidence of her starting to gain weight’. I increased my calorie intake from the dangerously low amount to an acceptable 1800 within a matter of a couple of weeks after the meeting. My dad, who had been away to America for a week when I first augmented my regime, was ecstatic to come back to me eating at a regular pace and an acceptable portion of food (only acceptable compared to what I had been previously consuming).  Some would say that this overnight change was miraculous but it was just an exterior, a ‘healthier’ front I was putting on in order to go on my holiday. In actual fact, had people been able to read my mind, they would have seen the turmoil I was in. Despite fervently declaring that I wanted to get better and knowing that I WANTED to put on weight, I was very aware that I was not ready for the actual process required for weight regain; this being a diet of the recommended 2500 calories a day. This contradicting factor led me to question my motivation to get better. The idea of eating so many calories repulsed me, whereas any rational person would revel in the ability to indulge in ‘forbidden’ foods. I had made a snap decision clouded by my stubborn determination to not be incarcerated at home during the summer; this decision was detrimental due to its hastiness. In the confines of the meeting rooms with my dietician I would agree to reintroduce a particular food to my strict diet, when in my heart of hearts I knew this was a complete lie. Lying was easy when the meetings were one to one and so my parents had no idea about the meal plan set for me by my dietician. This made it subsequently simple for me to pretend to my dietician that I had been following through with the plan at home, hiding the hand-written plans at the back of my food diary never to be frequented. My need for independence made consenting to adhere to a meal plan easier said than done.  

Anorexolympics

Competition. This is a basic instinct within every living organism in the struggle for survival. Like a true masochist, Anorexia Nervosa relishes in out-competing and dominating everything it can get its iron grip around and will become a very sore loser. Should you try desperately and take hold of its ominous presence, it will fight tooth and nail to regain its control over you- never giving up. Although I have previously scorned the notion that Anorexia is borne from the media and was dubious of their allegiance, I cannot completely eradicate the fact that with all the information we have access to nowadays, it feeds the cut-throat nature of the illness by encouraging the spawning of this disorder. Our health concerning food and exercise has become such an obsession within our culture that people will share very openly their own day to day regimes, creating a world of opportunity that I as a sufferer could compete against. Whether it was the portion size and calorie intake or amount of exercise someone partook in, I would feel an urgent need to compare myself to others in order to make sure I was eating less or doing more physically, getting irrationally jealous if I wasn’t able to do ‘better’ than them. This was my way of making sure that I was a winner, when in actual fact I was losing myself in the illness and letting it take me over. My sixth form common room hoarded the girls in and was a hostile place where discussions orientated solely around exercise and dieting; it was a breeding ground for competitive behaviour and eating disorders. There is a lot out in the world that can spike the addiction of Anorexia, which I came to realise when I was in the trance created by the disorder.

The internet is full of resources for Anorexia to satisfy its craving for competition. I personally found it a valuable source where I could gain all sorts of information in order to be able to compare my own diet. With the world of different diets available to the public soaring to an uncountable quantity, it was very easy for me to plug ‘* calorie diet’ into my search engine and be presented with an insane amount of others’ ‘exemplary’ regimes. What I failed to allow myself to notice when I would click on such a link, was the warning that these low-calorie diets should be executed under supervision of a GP and for a period of no longer than 2 weeks at a time. I would block out any caution by convincing myself that I was doing myself no harm, even though I was clearly becoming dangerously ill. I cannot call my particular calorie target a diet in any way shape or form, as I can now see that no one can sufficiently live off what I was consuming. I would use these online ‘diets’ as a guideline and barrier to how much I could allow myself to have and under no circumstances should I have more than what was online. Upon reading a very low calorie diet and acknowledging I was having less, I would feel giddy with happiness for no justifiable reason.

Skeletons In the Closet

Biographies. There is always a chapter in any life story whereby someone must overcome some sort of hurdle- some would call it the climax of the tale. Each and every one of us is rarely immune to that hump in the road but the enormity of it and the way we navigate ourselves through it changes from person to person. I cannot say that one issue is greater or more worthy of sympathy than another, as we can only judge what we feel is an obstacle by situations we have previously experienced, therefore a problem that may seem quite minor to one, could be a huge dilemma to another. I have learnt through the consequences of my illness not to be so judgemental of people and my primary school motto ‘do onto others as you would have done onto you’, has never held such a strong relevance in my eyes. In my attempt to counteract the constant pessimistic feeling of having reached rock bottom, I try and believe that there is bound to be someone worse off than me. I have advised others many a time with this same overly repeated guidance. In spite of this I am extremely hypocritical in the way that I cannot heed my own advice, as the magnitude of the alien feeling achieved from looking on the bright side of life is just too daunting to me. I therefore am looking back to how far I have come compared to when I was first dabbling in the Anorexia and the potency of its comforting nature by finally admitting to all the embarrassing and terrifying situations it has put me through. I have avoided it up until now, but it is time to bare all the pinnacle moments of my chapter.

Before I begin reciting the physical symptoms of my plight with Anorexia Nervosa, I must emphasise that these all occurred either during my relapse or during my exams in the summer of 2011. I have thankfully mostly recovered from these vicious side-effects.

The Slippery Slope

This week I have written a very different post than I have done so far, therefore have decided to post it in a different page that you can access via the link at the side of this page under 'pages' profile or from the link below...

The Slippery Slope

Would I Lie To You?

Denial. Deception, lies, secrets and excuses are what the parasitic disorder Anorexia Nervosa feeds on whilst depriving its sufferers of the true and beneficial sustenance- solid food. The illness is extremely cunning in the way it will fool its victims and force them to be deceitful to even the most trustworthy of people. In many cases the Anorexia will leach its way subtly through the mind, benefitting from the control it gets by creating false pleasures from restriction and over exercising, much to the detriment of its helpless host. It will therefore often be too late to stop the disorder, as it has already taken over the logical mind releasing toxic thoughts and feelings, which invade like a virus in opposition to the person you used to be. Describing anorexia metaphorically is the only way to convey the harm it causes, due to the complexity of the human mind. If you try to explain any emotion such as anger in words, it is near impossible to reveal what it feels like without saying ‘it’s when you feel angry’. We have ALL at some point experienced this sensation and therefore it is easy to sympathise with the person unlike the thoughts fabricated by anorexia. This is why there is so little known about the disorder, as any verbal description can only lie close to how it is like to experience it. There will unfortunately never be a truly effective way of showing a person blessed with the opportunity to never go through anorexia exactly what it’s like.

Surely I must have known that I was succumbing to anorexia… -a contemplation often pondered aloud to me. I question myself a lot at times whether or not I could see it coming and therefore could have prevented it from becoming an obsession. Although I try to think of ideas to blame the illness on, there is only one thing at fault- myself. I feel I can’t hide behind any other theory. Travelling as far back as the summer of 2007 when I was 14, I remember noticing my body was changing and there was a subsequent appearance of stretch marks over my thighs. Like many teenage girls, I obsessed over their apparition, wondering whether I put on weight in those areas and led myself to believe I had to tone up and so I got the notorious step-machine. We all have a part of ourselves that creates that niggling feeling of a need for change and this asset is all we seem to see when looking in the mirror. Fortunately being relatively young and carefree, I decided to move on and accept I was going through puberty and so the step-machine lay in my room gathering dust. However, then came the summer of 2010 when I had become highly confident in myself, taking pride in my appearance and becoming conscious of how much I weighed. As previously mentioned I had unconsciously lost a little weight that year and felt happy with my figure for once and so over the holidays when I had broken up for dance, I started using my step-machine to keep fit. My sister and I would take turns on it, encouraging each other to stay on for half an hour sessions. At the time it was all healthy. To me it was simply a way of MAINTAINING the weight I was at. My sister soon got bored of the monotonous form of exercise, but I became curious as to how it could tone the muscles up on my ‘problem area’ should I continue to use it regularly. So I did.