Survival of the Fittest

Survival. In Darwinian terms, those fittest for survival, endure the many tests thrown at them and go on to exist. Survival is a necessary human instinct and the one that drives us to run away in face of danger. However, what happens when the only option is to head forwards amidst the perils? Will only the strongest survive, or do we each have the capability to fight our way through and ultimately end up safely on the other side? No one can lead a meaningful existence by continuously bypassing threats and no one has been able to do so no matter how confident they may appear on the outside. The risks involved in the challenge are what lead us to shy away from the fight but we must stop acting vulnerable and believe that we are strong enough to survive. Anorexia turns your life upside down and your priorities shift. No longer is it essential for your body to persist, but more for your Anorexia to thrive within your mind. Having once dreamed of making something of my life and going to university, suddenly my entire existence was reliant on how many calories I was eating and whether I was consuming too much. Over the year I watched my body perish and the dreams went away with it too. I would have never envisaged myself where I am now. One year on fighting and surviving against Anorexia.

My move to university has been one that has irreversibly changed me for the better. Of course I was worried about how I would cope in such a different environment surrounded by people I did not know and who had the capability to judge my past. Away from home, I would encounter a huge test in having to cook and ascertain regular portions for myself without being under the watchful eye of my reassuring parents; I would have complete control. In that way I was determined to prove my inner strength and not to let the Anorexia overwhelm me once more, as I am still aware of its persistent presence. Without the satisfaction of knowing that I have fully beaten it, what would a drastic change in environment and an eruption of emotions cause? It is understandable for me to have felt concerned in this way, yet I should learn to trust in my ability to retain self-control. But, being conscious of the fact that my disorder arose when I was last studying, I had no idea what a return to education would entail.

Like any normal student I was worried about the cliché of not making friends, yet my fear was further spiked with my eating disorder history. Having ‘paraded’ my eating disorder for a year through my former skeletal appearance, I had gotten used to just assuming that people knew I was ill. However, my weight restoration so far is such that I merely look slim and it is not immediately apparent how much I have suffered. This posed a dilemma; do I reveal I am recovering from Anorexia to people I have only just met? Or do I keep this a secret? The thought had not even crossed my mind until I was faced with admission, as prior to this I had never been ashamed of how I fought my way out of the disorder. It is a very personal thing to admit to having suffered from a mental disorder, simply because I am aware of just how naïve people can be about it and I was embarrassed by the thought that people would believe I was just one of ‘those girls’ who wanted to be thin. I am not and never will be. It is natural for people to start off a friendship with small talk and asking questions, the most common one being ‘what did you do in your gap year?’. It is at this point that I can either admit to having taken the year out to recover or produce a vague white lie that I worked to ‘gain money’. It has never been my intention to keep my Anorexia hidden, but at what point is it appropriate to introduce it into a new friendship without making them run away or let it distinguish you as a person. At what cost would my revelation come?

The toughest aspect for me has been adaptation. I used to have such a strict regime as to when I would eat lunch, when I would have my snack and how long afterwards I would have my dinner, yet I have had to become much more flexible and drop the rigidity I had developed. Not only would my schedule have my lectures to contend with, but I did not want to appear like a food freak in front of my new flat mates. Fortunately, I had befriended the girls over facebook prior to my move to Newcastle and each one was aware and extremely understanding of my Anorexia after I advised them to read my blog. I was immensely grateful for their reaction and I could not have hoped to share a flat with better people; I felt safe going to university. I was more apprehensive revealing it to the boys, whom I was unsure as to how they would react, so of course, it was revealed on a drunken night during Freshers Week. I do not regret them all knowing as it was inevitable for them to find out but the way in which they each maturely handled the information was touching. I’m glad that I have got it out of the way with them and we can formulate close friendships on the basis of trust and I would be comfortable going to them with any issues I felt I was having regarding my eating habits. I am in safe hands and I only really have them to thank for this security.

Drinking alcohol was always going to be a grey area in my mind. After being tee-total for an entire year at the fear of the ‘unnecessary’ empty calories in such beverages, I was not sure how I would fair drinking socially. It is a big part of university in my mind although it is not essential to have a good time and make friends. I did not however, want to have to limit myself from something I would have had no second thoughts of consuming before I was ill and so I decided that it would be the least of my concerns. I did of course have to be mindful of my limits now that I was at a much lower body weight and had a low tolerance following the abstinence. Not once did I feel pressurised to drink more than I should or wanted to, which meant that my flat mates and I were all on the same level and we could all respect one-another. Without a second thought, I have managed to drink wine and have spirits mixed with full fat energy drinks. This would have been impossible for me a couple of months ago. I am more relaxed and there is a noticeable change within me.

Now that food and strict weight restoration is no longer my biggest concern, it is bizarre to notice just how much my eating habits have evolved. I no longer need to take an entire hour to eat a soup, yogurt and fruit and I vary my diet a lot more, albeit being a student with a meagre budget. But, I am blessed with two amazing parents who will ensure that I will always have enough food to keep me healthy. It has been hard to stick to my guns and eat three regular meals a day when others around me could skip meals with no harm to themselves, but I finally realise the necessity of providing my body with enough energy now that I am more active if I am to survive at university and thrive. I have the potential to do well and I cannot let it be jeopardised once again by my foolish inability to feed myself correctly.

I have not felt attractive in ever so long due to what I can only describe as my skin and bone appearance. I was a long way past being merely chiselled, so who would find my horrifying carcass look appealing? It was a novelty therefore, to arrive in this new environment only finally looking relatively healthy and find that I was in fact somewhat pleasant to look at. I am used to being looked at in a shocked and disgusted way and in a way, I expect people to still react in that way; who can forget the judgemental and unabashed stares I received from passers-by and so it was strange to receive appreciative looks. Since being here, I have left behind the shy girl who would isolate herself in her room and shy away from any attention. I am finally finding myself again. Solene survived despite the invasion of the Anorexia and has come out stronger. I am in control, but in a healthy way by directing my future towards a prosperous one. I have new friends and undoubtedly new hurdles to overcome up ahead but they do not frighten me; I fight for my survival.

Stomach Churning

Fear. The feeling that is felt in the pit of your stomach; the dread that causes all your insides to churn with anxiety whilst apprehending the occurrence of your most distressing nightmare. A phobia can be borne from experience after having had bad recollections of previous consequences caused by a particular event. In many cases there is no way to rationalise a fear, as it has seemingly developed from no specific incident. We cannot always explain why the panicked feeling arises; our hearts start beating faster, we feel the fear-fuelled adrenaline course through our veins and our breaths become spiked with distress. The effects of terror can either cause you to face it head on in order to overcome this fear or to run away and prolong the horror. Fear is not an easy emotion to address, as the sufferer will often refuse to be confronted by their phobias and shy away from any opportunity in which to do so.  For non-Anorexia sufferers it may appear as if we cannot justify our fears of eating particular foods, going a day without exercising or ultimately weight gain, but take one day perusing our corrupted minds and you will see why and to what extent the anxiety consumes us. In defying your Anorexic voice it spears at your conscience by belittling you and making you feel revolting for what you have or have not done in order to please it. It will instantly want you to settle the score by compromising another aspect within your diet or lifestyle i.e. Exercise to lose the calories or eat less. In many instances it is easier to appease the voice than to challenge the constant pain of being afraid.

It is weird to think about how a single piece of food can cause such a stir of emotions within me- bread and cheese being the main culprits behind my anxiety. These two foods were the first two to be abolished from my diet when I had begun suffering from Anorexia, which means it is somewhat obvious that they would be the last two to return. I am aware that my fear is irrational as it is only food- a necessity in our survival- and taken in moderation will certainly not harm me, yet this does not stop me refusing to reintroduce them. In my mind, eating them would be the ultimate defeat of the Anorexia and I do not feel I am quite at that stage yet. Bread is such a staple food within our diets and formulates many very convenient dishes such as sandwiches and pizzas and therefore I am determined to fight against the terror and as hard as it is to admit I DO miss it. Cheese on the other hand, I can never see myself eating with the regularity that I used to prior to my Anorexia; my main meal used to be followed by a piece of cheese which I have now replaced by a yogurt. I will accept and consume cheese in dishes if I am not able to see it, such as in a sauce, however I cannot see myself ever being able to justify the eating of cheese for enjoyment. Who knows, the day may come where I realise how ridiculous I am being, but for now I am content with my dairy substitute.

To round off my action packed summer full of exotic holidays, I spent 10 days in Portugal with a small group of friends. The holiday was intended to be one in which I could fully relax and renew the closeness I once had with my best friend before I fell ill. The challenges however, began nearly as soon as we stepped off the plane. I have not been able to admit to what happened next to anyone apart from who was there with me, as I am embarrassed at having been in my Anorexia’s eyes, ‘weak’. Upon arrival at our hotel, we were famished after travelling all morning and so we decided to eat lunch at the hotel snack bar. Every single item on the menu was bread based- sandwiches, toasties, burgers, hotdogs and pizzas- what was I to do? I KNEW I could not merely skip lunch, as I was not prepared to go backwards in recovery and so after much deliberation and debate, I settled for a ham sandwich. It arrived and the thought processes in my mind were as follows: 1) white bread 2) thick cut 3) lined with lashing of butter 4) the bread was stale. I felt torn and it was almost torture to have to think about eating it. For my first taste of bread in over a year, this was not really the most idealistic way. Unable to contemplate biting into such a sandwich, I psyched myself up to cut it up with my fingers and placing it piece by piece in my mouth. Even before I was ill I would abhor the idea of having butter in my sandwich and so I searched for ways to avoid it. I could feel my Anorexia starting to take me over with every mouthful that was placed in my mouth- how could I avoid eating all the bread? Will anyone notice if I leave the rest and only eat the ham? Can I scrape the butter off? Before having even started eating the sandwich, my mind had resolved itself to leave the crust. The further I delved into what seemed to me to be a monstrous creation, the weaker I felt myself become. I was not enjoying it. The stale bread got the better of me and I had to leave about half of it though I did make the biggest effort to eat the butter covered ham within. It was a tough meal but I sort of got through it. I hope now that I will be less afraid to try bread again but maybe in a more tasteful way.

During the 10 days what scared me the most was that because we were understandably on a budget being students, in my mind, the cheaper the meal the worse the quality and the more fat they add to the food to make up for the lack of taste. When it came to choosing a restaurant, the girls each made sure there was at least one item on the menu that suited us all although in some instances I felt somewhat forced into eating somewhere I was not entirely comfortable with because I didn’t want to appear difficult or ruin their holiday because they craved a particular food. However, never once was I made to feel bad for not wanting to eat somewhere and the pressure was only within me due to my want to be normal like them and a want to fit in. Most of the time it did turn out to be absolutely fine and I would just work myself up into an unnecessary frenzy, as I did manage to find a dish I felt content enough to eat and it made me realise how I must be more accommodating in regards to my diet and what I want to eat. I am glad I was thrust into an environment where it wasn't all about me and what I wanted or did not want to eat as it pushed me towards another step in my recovery and I will be forever grateful to the girls for that. It was certainly a learning curve for me. 

I am not going to lie I do fear seeing the number displayed on the scales rising week by week, however a more distressing and disheartening feeling comes when I see the number fall. Last month after my holidays to France and Mexico I anticipated to get on the scales and see if not a rise in my weight, then at least an ability to have sustained it outside of the comfort of my home. To my horror I had actually lost a kilo. This was the first time that I had lost any weight for several months and I had believed I was doing so well; I now had yet another kilo to regain. I should not be discouraged however, as learning to have a balanced diet is going to be trial and error for me. In the notion that I had gorged on the Mexican buffets, I had ceased to take snacks for the week in France and ate only my three meals a day like the others. The weight snuck off without me realising it, yet it is evident to me now that it would have done, as I was not including condiments such as bread into my diet like the rest of my family. I am aware I am still in the weight restoration stage; however I am getting increasingly worried about how I will achieve to maintain a healthy weight once I have reached my target. My imminent move to university means that I will be left entirely to my own devices whereby I will be serving myself my own portions and I will have my days filled with lectures meaning I will have to learn to become more flexible with my eating patterns and with what I eat. My parents have relinquished their control believing they can trust me to sustain myself. I know I can, they know I can and I am ready to live my life. It is going to be a tough transition but I believe that with the right mind-set I have now cultivated and the support of others around me it should not be too daunting a task.

All You Can Eat

Ashamed. Reflect on an event within your lives which you endeavoured to supress from the outside world. We each have at least one particular moment we are immediately struck with. This inexplicable need to keep our darkest secrets hidden is down to our inability to trust one another with an intimate knowledge of our past. Such closeted events are always those that would potentially lead to us being shunned socially or viewed in a different yet negative way than to prior the revelation. Without the familiarity of how the recipient will react, we prefer to keep quiet. This mortification should not be confused with modesty whereby we downplay the impact of our actions to avoid a public display of gratification whilst not wanting to seem arrogant. Though some would say that my battle with my recovery from Anorexia has been one to be admired due to my bravery and audacity to be so honest, I could not openly accept such compliments as I should never have had the need to recover from such a disorder. In a way I still partly blame myself. This leads to me being somewhat defensive of any negative comebacks concerning my plight, as I was responsible for my own suffering. The embarrassment in admitting to strangers face to face that I have suffered from Anorexia is borne from a feeling of humiliation regarding my past. I therefore fight with myself every day to put a positive spin on my story.

Until my family holiday in Mexico, I had not had the opportunity to start afresh meeting new people who had no idea of my struggles this past year without having the physical banner of my illness etched across my body. After having finally put on enough weight whereby I no longer look (as many would dub) ‘Anorexic’, a newfound confidence flourished within me, as I could finally feel like I could be accepted as a normal human being.  Anorexia (or any mental illness for that matter) is not contagious, yet society continues to have a devastating tendency to avoid those with a weakness. I guess it is within or nature to protect ourselves from those that are more susceptible to failure; it is the survival of the fittest.  I found myself recounting my year to acquaintances on holiday and consciously avoiding why I had decided to take the year out, preferring to explain my gap year as a means to create enough funding through work for my future years in higher education. Where my Anorexia is concerned, I have never set out to selectively choose to evade the subject. But a rare chance presented itself where the internet and social networking was inaccessible and so I could be Solene minus the baggage, especially seeing as after the holiday I would most likely never see these people again so I did not feel guilty. The occasion was just too sweet to pass by and I relished in the feeling of not having to explain myself for my actions, or be judged. I will admit I was ashamed of admitting my weakness to a seemingly carefree crowd of people my age and so I lied by omission.

I used to be the first to recite all the new exciting and exotic dishes that I had had the opportunity to try over my holiday; food used to be the centre of my contentment but in a positive and measured way. However, I now feel gluttonous at the amount of food that I consumed over the 10 days on holiday with my family in an all-inclusive, buffet serving resort. The variety of food on offer was overwhelmingly enticing and I used to always be the sort of person who would take full advantage of what was on offer and WANT to try a little bit of everything. My similar all-inclusive family holiday last year in Marrakesh made me cautious of how I would react to such a quantity of food that I had not seen be prepared- last year I resorted to eat a miniscule amount of low calorie-density foods. In contrast to that, my true self won over this time and I allowed myself to savour the buffet- with moderation. I was on holiday, a place where we can let go. Despite this I still chose to avoid the fried foods, cheese and cream laden dishes along with bread. I was apprehensive about eating so much in front of my parents, as I find openly appreciating food an embarrassment and I will shy away from any comment made on how it looks like I am enjoying it. On top of this I would make sure not to go back to the buffet alone for my next course at the risk of looking greedy.

 The recurring fear that, should I eat something in particular I will be expected to eat it with no resistance again, resurfaced. I was not wrong to feel like that as recently my dad stated ‘oh but you ate it in Mexico’- I did but again, I was on HOLIDAY. The return home was a return to my reality and after weighing up how much I had eaten I did feel myself wanting to slip back into restricting to make up for my greed. When I went to France to visit my family this week, I consciously stopped eating snacks - which did not go unnoticed by my parents- in my fear of putting weight back on too quickly. It was the perfect opportunity to reintroduce the diet I used to have before my illness (snacking was never part of it), as I did not have the temptation of food filling the cupboards. My snacks were only ever a means to restore my weight and not feeling comfortable doing it all in one go, I felt that I deserved a break for at least a week which my parents have failed to understand. I do not feel I have been eating necessarily less than I would have at home considering the fact I make my parents serve me my portions, but they still insist on serving me more than them disregarding anything extra that I have eaten which they have not. I am not completely out of the woods weight wise and having not weighed myself since before my holiday I do not know where my weight stands but I am conscious that a couple more kilos would not go amiss. I still want to take this last step slowly so I would ask anyone to just let me do it in my own time. Please.

We are our biggest critics, yet when there is a backlash of criticism presented towards you from the outside world, it is as if our biggest fears have been realised. Having read so many comments on articles regarding Anorexia, I cannot help but generalise how people are going to react to hearing I had/have an eating disorder. I recently read someone who dubbed a picture of a woman who had been suffering severely from Anorexia as ‘disgusting’. Yes it is not attractive and even scary to see a person so frail because you can see every bone of their emaciated frame through their paper-thin skin, yet what gives anyone the right use such a powerfully soul-destroying word on someone else. At the height of my illness I would despair at how skeletal I was but if anyone had turned around and called me disgusting it would have been my undoing; I would not have coped. With all this potential hurt roaming around, it is no surprise that we choose which facts to lay out for all to see and which ones we prefer to keep to ourselves for protection. I will never lie about my past but I do not think it will be something I will openly discuss with someone until they have gained my trust. Knowing how much of a taboo Anorexia still is and wanting to dispel criticism is one of the main reasons I started writing. I want, no, need the motives behind my disorder to be understood and accepted. There will always be a vicious critic- be it yourself or a stranger- but I will not let them make me feel puny for my weakness. I am not proud of having suffered from Anorexia but I AM proud of the way I have handled my inevitable recovery.  

What's Eating You?

Perseverance. The tendency to give up when the going gets tough is one that consumes us whenever we are faced with a daunting challenge. It takes a lot of willpower for someone to follow through with a difficult task despite there being seemingly no end to the ever coming trials. Without the desire to soldier on we abandon our trail, leaving us hopeless and somewhat frustrated with having wasted our precious time. Anything is attainable if we set our minds to it. To prevail, it requires determination and even should you not come out on top, you can personally commend your efforts for having tried. It is easier said than done to feel pride in your performance if you receive no gratification, but the simple knowledge that you did not surrender when those around you most expected you to, can be satisfaction enough;  success is far sweeter when the challenge has been full of tribulations. Overcoming your vulnerabilities shows strength within you no matter how trivial it appears to others. Since publicising my journey, many brave people have come forward in admission of their own hardships with eating disorders. I admire these people. They show courage. They show determination. They show that recovery can be possible.

The last month has been my most testing since developing my eating disorder due to the numerous trips away from home. I was expected to have gone either of two ways; I would not eat a sufficient amount or I would over indulge and begin to binge-eat as a compromise for the loss of control (this is common in eating-disorder sufferers). When I cannot judge what a correct portion is, what is to stop me going either way? My deepest fear is of beginning to binge eat, as I seriously crave decadent foods.  I fortunately yet surprisingly managed to settle myself into a happy medium. It is not to say that I have found it easy in any way, shape or form, nor does it indicate that I have fully recovered from Anorexia. After the short week away in Paris with my sister I embarked on a week holiday to Lanzarote with a very close friend of mine. I was not worried about the food aspect prior to going away, as she was the very first person I had eaten out at a restaurant with and she was extremely understanding of the condition. We clarified beforehand that we were very similar in the way we are early risers who eat breakfast, lunch and dinner and enjoy a cocktail or two- to me any calorie laden beverage be it alcohol or fruit juice seems like a ‘waste’ of calories - at a bar but are not particularly ‘party animals’. In that respect we were perfectly suited to go away together and handle my Anorexia.

My Anorexia decided to rear its ugly head for the first time in a long time as I let it somewhat possess me on the first evening. I was comfortable with the fact we were staying in a self-catered apartment and therefore knew I could retain some of my control over my meals. However, our early arrival meant that our room was not ready and so we would have to eat our lunch at a restaurant. We started the holiday off with a large celebratory cocktail- I forced myself to have my favourite pina colada despite it being made with coconut cream- though they were unfortunately not to our taste. I usually hate waste and the feeling that I have misused my money by leaving anything. But when my friend merely drank a sip of her own cocktail, I could NOT bring myself to drink much more of my own. Later at a cheap restaurant we ordered the same thing, going for fish with my mum’s words of ‘the least fattiest meat is more fatty than the fattiest of fish’ swimming around my mind, so I had no qualms about eating a heavy restaurant lunch. Then the dish came out. The vegetables were coated in butter and the fish was drenched in olive oil. It was in fact tasty- not that I would ever admit it out loud- but the taste of so much fat was overpowering. I made myself remember I had not had a snack during the day and so this would make up for it. Yet that evening was a different story. The combination of a lack of sleep, home sickness, a loss of control, a ‘fatty’ lunch and my friend not eating breakfast created an environment full of tension for me. Again my friend and I ordered the same thing, chicken fajitas. However, when it became clear that after filling her first wrap that she would have no more, I knew I had not eaten a satisfactory amount that day to only have the one myself. I kept asking her whether she would eat more and she assured me she would, but she just picked at her virtually full plate of chicken whilst I felt compelled to fill another wrap, whilst observing her like a hawk. After my second wrap I had a panic attack. I felt greedy and weak for eating what I felt was twice as much as her (the Anorexia decided to disregard the bread roll and butter she had eaten at both lunch and dinner).It was not my friends fault, she had eaten to her capacity, but I could not help but resent her for not having had another fajita. I realise now just how accommodating my family are with me; they will eat to comfort me.

Other than that first night, I had no further problems eating. I would have my usual bowl of porridge with water in the morning followed by a light lunch and then dinner at the restaurant in the evening. I went for dishes that I wanted and not according to what my mind felt had the least calorie content. It was easier for me when I did not eat the same as my friend as it meant I was not provided with a direct comparison of how much ‘more’ I was eating than her. I felt safe and happy enough to indulge with ice creams and Nutella crepes but only because my friend did. As with my sister in Paris, if she could do it then so could I. She supported me a lot throughout the holiday and reassured me that we were eating healthily and that I did not look too skeletal in my bikini. There was the constant worry at the back of my mind however, that I was being over-indulgent. The mere idea that I was eating restaurant portioned food every evening and a dessert led me to imagine I would be gaining weight at a both alarming and uncontrollable rate. I know I still need to put on around 4kg more, but the closer I get to my target the more worried I get that my weight will not stop soaring. My return home was fraught with anxieties about how much weight I might’ve put on (it turned out I have in fact only put on around 200g) and so when my mum suggested pasta for dinner I broke down in tears saying I was uncomfortable with the rate at which I was gaining and that I felt I had been over eating the past few weeks and therefore my upcoming 10 day holiday to Mexico was daunting. I ended up having only a tomato for dinner.

Though it may sound like I have regressed to some degree, I think I was simply overwhelmed by the number of challenges I had been able to overcome in the past few weeks. I have drunk alcohol, I have ordered regular meals off menus, and I have eaten at a regular pace… Most importantly I have enjoyed myself. Since being home I have been out socialising seeing people I had not seen in a year. I was very apprehensive and somewhat embarrassed about the fact that they had most likely read my blog and the last time they had seen me I was unbelievably frail-looking. I had no reason to fear it as I was accepted back with open arms though we skirted around the subject. It was not mentioned once however awkwardly it was looming over our minds or on the tip of our tongues during conversations. When a discussion struck up about anti-depressants I did not mention my struggle with depression and consequent consumption of this medication, as they were making pleasantries about how it merely concerned suicidal thoughts. Though it was certainly not intentional, I was made to feel ridiculous for being on anti-depressants myself at such a young age when I should be care-free. This served to reinforce my belief about mental disorders being a social taboo subject and has made me more determined to get my views across. I wish I did not have the need to explain myself but why should I be made to feel embarrassed?

On one particular night on holiday, I observed a large man sporting a t-shirt with the slogan ‘I beat Anorexia’ as an ‘ironic joke’ on the back. Though in hindsight I do realise it was all a bit of fun, as this man clearly enjoys his food and has never suffered from an eating disorder, I do not understand why someone would make a joke of it. If I had never been through Anorexia, then maybe I would have found some humour in it, but I have and so I can’t. No one would dare make a joke of physical illnesses for example if an extremely hairy man wore an ‘I beat cancer’ t-shirt; it is NOT socially acceptable and is simply foul ‘humour’. So why do we think that we can do it about eating disorders? Initially I did not mention my anger, but I have since not been able to ignore the crushing sense of having been made fun of. Anorexia is serious and it should be treated so.

Throughout the weeks I retained the idea that you only live once and that I should make the most of the here and now. I must remember that despite the fact that I have eaten out an immeasurable number of times, I was never greedy or over-indulgent. In my mind restaurant food holds a notorious reputation of being fatty, but this is so far from the truth in high quality restaurants. With this in mind I have been able to continue on my path to recovery. I only really began the recovery process in January and I can now see how far-with the help of my supportive family- I have come. It serves as a lesson to us all that when all hope seems lost and you feel no one believes in you, to just remember that you are not alone. Many of us find solace in someone dear to us and this motivates us to persevere. If you feel you cannot do it for yourself then believe you can do it for others. I’m in recovery for my family, my friends, fellow struggling sufferers but above all for my future.

Full Of Guts

Courage. The ability to be able to face difficulties presented to you despite your fears is a trait that many admire as well as endeavour to possess.  As humans, we have the instinct to stick to what we know; to what we feel is safe. Yet we all have the ability to be brave and venture out of our comfort zones and challenge ourselves. It will certainly not come easily- but then, why should it? The mere demonstration of having courage requires the fact that it is out of the norm which henceforth acquires the respect from all observant parties. Often, motivation and own experiences empower a person to illustrate their courage, as you must become bold enough to initiate an act of valour regardless of potential dangers. Courage need not be a heroic act whereby you save a ‘damsel in distress’ per se, but it can take on many forms depending on the fears addressed. We are not all super-heroes, yet we have a notion that these are the only ‘people’ who warrant the title of being brave- acts of heroism being their day jobs actually annihilates all doubts they may have had in themselves and becomes a sort of routine. True courage is when someone we would see as ordinary performs the extraordinary and accepts their feat with humility. With Anorexia, I have found that opportunities insistent on the need to be brave arise around every corner. Whether it be the courage to eat a particular food or ‘merely’ the courage to confide in someone, they merit a huge applause, as any aspect of an eating disorder is arduous to overcome.

Being the shy person I have always been, the fact that I began to open up so publically about my eating disorder required me to put my inhibitions behind me and write from the heart. To me, writing my thoughts and feelings down came relatively easily as I was not face to face with the reactions of those who would be reading my exploits. Though I was thought to have been brave for admitting to having had an eating disorder and revealing every detail of my suffering, I did not see it that way. I personally saw it as a necessity to make myself heard; to make myself understood by a judgemental society whom I knew had made wrongful assumptions behind my succumbing to Anorexia. However, this past week I achieved a goal I had never thought I’d have the guts to fulfil. I SPOKE out. Having a few months ago been unable to verbalise my disorder to even my manager at work, this week I got the opportunity to return to my old school to speak to a group of 180, 14-15 year old girls about Anorexia and divulge my story. I was humbled by the praise I received for having achieved what I had set out to do- educate society and if possible, help even one person step towards recovery- and therefore I accepted the idea that I had in this case been courageous. I basked in the euphoria of having young girls come up to me and acknowledge the usefulness of what I had just done. I had not expected the silence in the room and the respect I received from each person who hung on to my every word and even asked questions; they were genuinely interested in what I had to say and they wanted to learn more. It is in accomplishing to speak out about my disorder and having to face the instantaneous reactions that I really gleaned how much what I was doing was a help for others.

The past couple of weeks have been a rollercoaster ride in terms of battling the meagre hold the Anorexia still has on me- its vice like grip loses intensification with each finger I remove whilst getting closer to a complete recovery. I have admitted to still eating slowly and to avoiding particular foods as well as picking the lowest calorie choice from a menu, however when I decided to go on a holiday to Paris with only my sister by side, I could not have expected just how much I would challenge myself. I had initially been worried, as I knew breakfast was a buffet selection and being wary of my knowledge of portion sizes I did not know whether I would be able to cope with this much freedom. However, I was comfortable knowing that my sister is a good role model for how much I should eat though I felt it necessary to warn her beforehand that I would be following what she would be eating during the day so as to not make her feel unnerved. When it came to actually our very first meal in Paris it was fast food chicken wings, which we shared. I can genuinely say that I cannot recollect the last time I have eaten fast food and the fact that I ate it with no qualms really shocked me- if my sister could do it then so could I. My biggest shock came when I virtually matched my sister’s pace of eating, only finishing a few seconds behind her! Being in the Disneyland theme park, we had action packed days and I therefore had little time to think about food nor did I want to waste the precious time we had to have fun on eating and so I won out over my Anorexia. Now back home, the courage I had has unfortunately not resulted in a permanent change, and the fact that I am leading dreary days indoors with little to do means that eating slowly fills up my seemingly unending free time.

During my week in Paris, I picked out foods from the menus which I craved; I finally felt like myself again, eating what I wanted and not letting it be dictated by my Anorexia. I wouldn’t say that I have recovered but I do feel a lot more confident in myself and the closer I have got to my weight target has been a huge help too. I ate dishes with chips, large portioned dishes and even washed them down with a well-deserved cocktail. I even ordered dessert. I have always had a sweet tooth and had up until this point been wary of many desserts, sticking to muffins or fruit cakes and tarts shying away from the pastries and creamy ones. I managed to eat a whole pain-au-chocolat each morning, as well as follow my lunch with an afternoon snack of two generous scoops of Ben and Jerries ice-cream and finish off my evening meal with a whole array of delicious desserts including banana splits, crepes and waffles. The decadence was overwhelming but long awaited.

I would have expected to feel intense guilt and a requirement to be punished by my Anorexia, but miraculously I feel good- really good. I have learnt to accept that indulgence is not an everyday occurrence and I am ALLOWED to enjoy food. It has to be said that outside of a holiday environment I have yet to be brave enough to explore how much I can push the boundaries my Anorexia has so long held over me but in time I now know that it will be achievable; one step at a time. I know that I have the ability to influence those around me and this pushes me towards the need to recover, as I want to do everyone proud as well as be a motivation for others to follow my suit. I look forward to being able to speak publically again, having overcome the fear of only isolating my thoughts to the computer. I think that words can be somewhat more poignant when delivered out-loud. With my upcoming holidays I know that I must carry with me the knowledge of my accomplishments so far and therefore not be scared to repeat them- though I have a fear of starting to binge-eat. The more I push myself, the more comfortable it will become. I just need the courage. Recovery is scary, but perseverance leads to great achievements.