Filling up with Pressure

Pressure. We can often bear the feeling of being required to carry a burden we are ill-equipped to cope with.  When saddled with our own need to achieve, we can often lay an unnecessary stress upon ourselves, which could easily be relieved if we were to trust our abilities. For someone suffering from Anorexia Nervosa, they find comfort in the knowledge that their failure can of sorts be rectified with the accomplishment of restricting themselves of food. When there is little we can control in the face of anxiety, ‘victories’ are sought in different places and predominantly in how we feed ourselves; alimentation being the one true aspect we have complete power over. Soon enough we build a tolerance to the small euphoria induced in the initial cutting down of food and we therefore resist our fear of failure through the oasis we have found within our turmoil and so the Anorexia flourishes. It is not sufficient to merely reach a goal, we want to come out ‘top’; there is no end to what the Anorexia will make us endure. WE must decide to believe that we can truly be content with our achievements outside of the bubble Anorexia has created and eventually return to a world where contentment can be found in all places.

Following the admission to having started counting my calories again during the pressure of exams, I thought that the problem would rectify itself as time went on and the stress alleviated. I unfortunately overestimated the ease at which this can be done, despite having faced a relapse in my Anorexia before. Instead of being reassured that I would not need to count my calories in order to lessen my anxiety, I found myself regressing in a way that I felt that I needed to once again weigh out my portions (not to the gram but nevertheless more precisely) to know how much I was having. After my month at home over Christmas, I was able to directly compare the portions I had been making for myself alone at university with the more regular ones being served up to me by my family. In my mind, I felt I had been over feeding myself over the semester whilst fending for myself and therefore, in the bid to rectify the ‘damage’ and avoid putting on more weight, I believe this is what triggered my need to calorie count again. I have therefore had to consistently remind myself how skeletal I looked at my lowest weight and how miserable it made me.  

Before- Summer 2011

Now- (Left)

I was aware that I was becoming stuck in a rut whereby my days would once again revolve around my mealtimes and I refused to be agile with them as well as confine myself to my room in order to eat. I was still sticking to a healthy amount of calories but I felt safer knowing exactly how many I was having. I could feel the return of a sense of depression despite the continuation of my anti-depressant treatment. I no longer felt the desire to leave my room, or go out clubbing with my flat mates and friends, which I had so loved and enjoyed the previous semester. I am unsure what changed exactly and how it came about but I knew that I had to do something or my health could severely deteriorate- I had been in similar situations before. At the time I still had the stress of finding out my results and therefore whether I would potentially be accepted to take part in an interview for the transfer to Dentistry; the degree that has always been my dream. In the face of the unknown, I was adding excessive pressure on myself.

Having experienced the benefits of a week away in the fresh mountain air skiing the year before, I knew that a week away from university with my family would be the perfect opportunity to pick myself back up again. Last year, I believe that week really was the turning point in my recovery, as I came back feeling more fulfilled and positive towards my recovery and subsequently revived out of my depression. Having commitments with my degree that week, I was unsure up until the last minute whether I would be able to go or not, but I felt for my wellbeing and continuation at university, that a week away would be wise. Leaving the country and the comforts of my home and rituals, I always feel I am able to achieve far more and I can actually push myself. I therefore took it upon myself to not take any scales with me to the Alpes. I was also embarrassed to admit to my parents how downhill I come since they had seen me at Christmas, nor did I ever want them to see me using scales again as it would only bring back nightmare memories; they have enough on their plates (no pun intended). I did not want to become a liability.

I could not have hoped for a better week of skiing, the snow was amazing and there were blue skies every day, most of all I did not have any speed limitations on account of the fragility of my bones like last year. I was free to experience the exhilaration of my favourite sport. As predicted, I was able to challenge myself once again with the foods I would eat; granted I acknowledge that a lot of the challenging process was marred in the knowledge that I had and would be extensively exercising all day. Each morning I found myself eating a bowl of my usual porridge accompanied by half a pain au chocolat fresh from the bakery, which I found to be an indulgence that I am unafraid to admit I enjoyed. Lunch times this year were taken at the restaurant on the piste where even though I would take a bowl of soup, I compensated with a yogurt, fruit and an extra cereal bar to keep up my energy. Upon returning back from a day of skiing, I amazed myself by accepting a regular piece of praline brioche like everyone else with little though or guilt.

The food challenges were not to stop there as on the final day, we chose a different restaurant for lunch- a Pizzeria. Though I had a huge variety of choice on the menu, I decided, like the rest of my family, to order a pizza. This was my FRIST pizza since I have been ill, with my last one being a distant memory I have long lost forgotten. I still consider bread and cheese to be the ‘enemy’ but having seen these ultra-thin crusted pizzas float past the table, I was motivated to break the biggest feat yet in my recovery. I finished the whole pizza guilt free AND had three pancakes for dinner the very same night! I would not say I will be as extravagant with my food choices on a regular basis, but it allowed me to break the taboo of eating a pizza that I had long held on to. Fortunately my parents know me well enough NEVER to ask if I am enjoying a particularly daring food whilst I am eating and thankfully waited until I was done and I myself had admitted to enjoying it to ask questions.

The week was not all plain sailing, as I saw myself stress about the lectures I would be missing and the work I had to do, as well as the long anticipated reply from the dentistry school (turns out I still have not heard anything) in the fear of having to make an emergency trip home. Returning back from independence also saw me start to resent the questions of being asked whether I was ok to eat at restaurants at lunch and what I felt was safe to eat for dinner; I felt every decision had to revolve around me. My sister as a consequence felt that I was drawing attention to my own needs and that I felt I required ‘special attention’- far from it, as I would rather have been left alone. I do however, feel that the week did me a lot of good and I definitely came back, yet again, with a more positive outlook and although physically exhausted, I was no longer suffering from the emotional exhaustion I had been.

I am aware I am an over-achiever, though I do prefer to set the bar low for myself to avoid disappointment. However, this does not stop me putting pressure on myself to do well in life and not to feel like a failure should I not be able to attain my aspirations. Fortunately, my hard work so far this year has paid off and I currently have a first in the first half of the year, having also come out of the other side of exam period relatively unharmed by stress. I should now start to believe in my abilities and acknowledge that I can do well; in turn this will alleviate the stress I put on myself in a healthy manner as I know that I CAN do it. Though I know I have had a slight set-back in my recovery, I can still sense the determination to get rid of the Anorexia and I have not been defeated. I will continue to fight and I will continue to win.   

Festive Feasts

Gluttony. One of the seven deadly sins imprinted within each of us that causes us to overindulge in the many aspects of life we enjoy. It is hard to take something we thoroughly enjoy in moderation and not exceed the limit of what would be deemed acceptable or healthy. When we find comfort in a particular object, it is challenging to fight the urge to gorge ourselves on the euphoric feeling it gives us; this comfort is short lived. The greed rushes through us leaving us wanting more and it takes an incredible amount of willpower many of us do not naturally possess to quench this desire. It is however the accomplishment of resisting the excess, that drives and thrills those that suffer from Anorexia. The more we are able to restrict ourselves from the aspects we most crave, the more powerful we feel; we feel in ‘control’. This is why for many sufferers of eating disorders, the Christmas ‘party’ season, is one of the most difficult.

Back in December, I was highly aware of the Christmas holidays looming ahead. Though this meant a well-deserved break from my first term of fending for myself at university, I was also aware that I would be returning to a world in which I would once more become dependent on my parents. This thought both excited and scared me at the same time. On one hand it would be a relief not to worry about portion sizes and whether what I was cooking for myself was too much (rarely would I ever deem it too be too little) or too calorie-laden. Then there was the inevitable return of the questions from my family on when I wanted to eat, what I wanted to eat and whether I wanted any food to snack on. I abhor the idea of any meal time being revolved around my wants and needs and therefore it was difficult for me to have to listen to my parents ask me whether they were eating too early or too late for my liking. I did however, enjoy being able to ask my parents for a dish I desired to eat without the background fear that it would appear I was enjoying food too much.

It scared me to think how much the festive meals would impact my weight over the month and so as I have already admitted, I did start to be conscious of what and how much I ate before my return home for the holidays. I needn’t have worried because my family have never been huge overeaters. It was however, the thought of going to France to my Grandparents for Christmas that instilled the most fear. My grandma is a big believer in feeding her family; she believes that the way to treat us is to cook decadent food and lots of it. So upon our arrival, I was not shocked to find out there was an array of around 7 desserts prepared after a hearty meal. Of course bread is a big aspect of the French’s staple diet; however I am still not comfortable enough to be eating it for enjoyment as an EXTRA to my meal but I did allow myself to indulge in a few of the many desserts that were up for offer. Though meal times are not generally a stress anymore, it was hard not knowing exactly what my grandma would be preparing for us to eat, as she enjoys sneaking in an extra side dish without our assent. When I was younger my granddad used to enjoy bantering around with me about my need to have enough food left for a second helping,  and I therefore found it near impossible to bite my tongue when he tried it with me over Christmas. My granddad pointing out so bluntly that I was enjoying my meal caused a flurry of panic, I maintained calm though and it did not stop me continuing to eat the rest of what was on my plate.

Christmas day was obviously going to be far easier for me this time round than it had been last year. It is a day we all associate with a lot of food (well not just a day but the whole Christmas season if we’re honest!). For starters I am now eating regular food, with regular portions and at a regular pace and the fact that it would be a family affair as opposed to in a restaurant this year was also comforting as I was not embarrassed to ask for something different if I wished. There were many occasions throughout the week in which snacks were laid out prior to the meal and I abstained from eating any, though I would never have done so before. I was just consistently aware that this was an extra amount of calories that were ‘unnecessary’, though I found comfort in seeing the others around me help themselves freely. There were also a couple of occasions whereby the traditional French dish of ‘fois-gras’ was served, the mere mention of the name put me straight off even attempting to eat it- ‘gras’ being a translation of ‘fat’- and therefore required to be served a separate dish to the others.

Unfortunately the moth away was not as restful as I would have hoped; it coincided with the stress of revision for my January exams. Considering the last time I was revising was when I fell ill because I felt food was the only thing I could control, it was inevitable I would be feeling more apprehensive than usual about this period of exams. I find that I needlessly stress myself out, as I would often find myself feeling nauseous after eating food from anxiety. I am therefore relieved that my GP and I have decided to keep me on my course of anti-depressants for the remainder of this school year at least. I have however, finally made it through with little damage to my health apart from an intense exhaustion. One regret is that I was unable to talk this troubling time through with my therapist, as I found it difficult to find the time in the short period I was home. I would like have hoped she would have been happy of my progress and the way I have been able to adapt to my life at university.

I don’t know whether it was the notion that I had eaten a lot back at home, whether it was the result of my renewed freedom or because I felt it was the only aspect I could control, but I have found myself counting calories again. I do not, I am happy to report, do this so that I can stick to a strict amount of calories per day, nor have I taken it to the extent where I measure them to the gram, but I am hoping that this is only a temporary glitch in my recovery. Though I am not back at my full weight I was prior to falling ill, I do consider myself to be out of the weight restoration phase of my recovery and therefore this Christmas season has not dramatically affected my weight. I have started to give in to some temptations and if I was to be offered to eat a chocolate I feel I can allow myself to do so, as well as not feeling that I need to snack in order to have eaten enough that day. It is with this that I am slowly returning to a semblance of normality, though I still juggle with the slight feeling of guilt when I do relinquish my strict control. A year on from my first blog I am slowly but surely becoming Solene again. Recovery need not be just a fairy tale, nor only a possibility but an inevitability.

What Doesn't Kill you Makes you Stronger

Adaptation. When faced with a different environment that is unknown to us, we tend to amend our behaviour in order to conform to what we believe is expected of us. How do you then distinguish between who you really are and want to be and the person that you have been perceived to be in a given situation. In most cases an adaptation can be beneficial, as we are given the opportunity to leave our turbulent past behind and create a more genuine persona, in other cases the change is drastic and turns you into a person you had never wanted to be. Having had an eating disorder whereby I would aim to control every aspect of my eating habits, it is hard for me to not feel completely lost in a situation where I have no control i.e. the way I appear to others. Unfortunately, the freedom of relinquishing control has become so euphoric that I have entered a path of apparent self-destruction where I have no idea how to reign in my emotions anymore in the fear of becoming overly restrictive again. As Christmas approaches I have become increasingly aware of my need for a ‘time out’ from university and the independent life I have been thrown into.

This particular season is always difficult for someone with an eating disorder. The cold weather requires us to consume more calories in order to keep up our body temperature. However, what happens when you are unable to remember how to adapt your intake in moderation in response to your body’s changing needs? Particularly these last couple of weeks, the thought of being back at home with my family has been quite daunting in the respect that I will no longer be entirely in control of what I eat and when I eat again. In a way, it will be a relief to relearn what correct portions are; I continue to worry I overfeed myself, despite me KNOWING that it is doing more good than harm. My grandmother is a firm believer of a hearty meal, always cooking too much for her loved ones and knowing I will be spending the Christmas period with her is quite terrifying in regards to food, no matter how much I look forward to spending quality time with my family. The whole idea of this month being filled with celebrating by eating decadent foods and drinking calorie laden alcoholic beverages has been looming over me for quite some time. I have subconsciously adapted my diet recently in order to ‘prepare’ for the food ahead. I have of course been mindful of just how much I am eating and making the effort to eat a correct amount, however there is the ever present thought of just how much weight I will potentially put on over Christmas.

I now look in the mirror and see the body shape I used to have before I was ill. Despite this when I weigh myself I am only a couple of kilos under my target weight, which makes me wonder what I would look like with that much more weight on me. I foolishly try to rationalise that I need not put any more weight on because I lost all my muscle due to starvation. The common knowledge that muscle weighs more than fat makes me think that maybe I am at a correct weight… It is hard without professional advice to convince myself I should put on more, even though my logical scientific brain knows that I could do with at least a few more grams. What worries me the most is noticing the cellulite that has appeared around my thighs due to the uneven fat deposit which is inevitable after such dramatic weight loss. I am somewhat sickened at the site and I can feel my heart fluttering with fear inside my body upon me seeing it. I am ashamed of it. My upper thigh and bum were my ‘problem’ area prior to developing Anorexia, with their return the anxiety and dislike have also made their appearance. What I must constantly remind myself is just how much I genuinely missed having these features when I was at a low weight and not to fear them but embrace them as who I am. Despite this I cannot help but scrutinise my body in the mirror for where exactly the weight I have gained has accumulated.

Of course anyone looking at me would think me ridiculous for having such petty body hang-ups but they do not truly understand the extent to which my body has changed over the past few months and readapting my mind to seeing a healthier figure in the mirror does take some time and getting used to. With this acceptance however, is coming the increased urge to start exercising and toning up. This is another fear. What if I once again take it too far, or what if I am judged for exercising? Also what if I am restricted from actually exercising from a third party purely because they fear I am returning to old habits? This is a new dilemma I am going to have to face now that my body is returning to normal. Like any normal adult, I must exercise in order to keep fit, it is finding that moderation again and learning to do exercise because I enjoy it as opposed to having a goal to lose weight, is a hurdle I will have to face.

Upon deciding to visit my brother at his university for the weekend I had no time in which to make myself a lunch before I was to leave for my train. I was therefore faced with the task of buying food at the station in which to eat on my journey- this was my chance to challenge myself. I went into the nearest supermarket because I knew there would be calorie information on the food and I was preparing myself for the biggest challenge yet... to eat a sandwich. This daunting task was only slightly appeased with my knowledge that I had had no time to eat breakfast that morning and so a sandwich would not harm me. As part of the supermarket’s mealdeal, I was also able to choose a snack to go along with my sandwich; this turned out to be my very first packet of crisps- doritioes. I did not simply go for a plain sandwich either; I chose a chicken filled sub. I was not so worried because I had the calorie information in front of me to prove that I was not eating an extortionate amount. This fateful day was not to end there with breaking terrific feats; I was to experience my first proper Chinese takeaway with my brother that night. I did not simply go for the duck and pancakes as I usually would, knowing that this would be the least of the calorific dishes. Instead, I chose the dish that sounded most appealing to me on the menu, which is something I would rarely do at a restaurant and I even topped it up with a side dish of rice. Instead of feeling immensely guilty, I was somewhat proud of myself for having achieved this and all in one day. It showed me it only takes a little courage to go a long way in recovery.

I do have my fair share of ups and downs, but with some failures come some victories in my recovery. Yet it seems it is the failures that seem to stick in people’s minds and define me. Nobody can be perfect and I must learn to accept that I cannot please everyone however much I try to change myself. I therefore should stay true to who I am. This however, is made harder with the fact that I have lost my sense of identity and who I am and so it is very much a trial and error game in determining the person I have now become. I want to come across as head strong but I feel unbelievably lost at times and I tend need reassurance from wherever I can get it to show me I am on the right track to recovery. Sometimes I push the boundaries of what is acceptable too far, but this is a learning curve. I am adapting to my second chance at life and it will take time for me to settle into what I am comfortable with.

Regression Impressions

Impressions. The way you act is always going to define you as a person, especially to those that do not know you personally. When someone sees you as someone other than who you really are and reminds you of this fact, it can really hurt. Whatever actions you aim to pursue, people will know, people will see and people will judge. Unfortunately a reputation is easy to gain but much harder to lose. University for me was a place in which I could recreate a persona that I could really fit to. Unfortunately, I most definitely overestimated myself in that regard. I would have thought that the past could always remain so; however history has a menacing way of catching up with you. Acting and behaving a certain way will always attract different views no matter how much you try to justify your actions. Once someone formulates an opinion, however you appear remains imprinted in certain people’s esteems and whether you try to redeem yourself or not, what is done is done and you can never go back on it.

The last year has been not only dark and lonely but also a learning curve. I would have hoped that after leaving behind such a past, I could look forward and be a better person. Having not been completely cured of every inhibition before leaving home, it really took its toll on me over the past few weeks. It has been a long time since I have been deemed remotely attractive. People could not see past my skeletal appearance and so actually seeming attractive to people felt like a rather new notion to me. Alas, I was not yet in a position to feel that way about myself. Having spent so long being seen as ‘anorexic’ and being the backchat of everyone I passed, appreciative looks were somewhat of a novelty. I had to relearn what it was like to feel like a normal girl.  Having not reached a healthy BMI before starting university, I still felt like the underweight person with a distorted figure that had taken my place this past year. This meant that I had to find a way in which to prove to myself that I WAS getting better. It is hard to look in the mirror and accept that you are looking healthier when you do not feel completely cured from a disorder that has eaten away at your life (No pun intended). But, acceptance is the way forward. I regret to admit however, that I have not yet reached that place of belief in myself. I have tried to appear headstrong but there is only so long you can act confident before you get hurt.

I am actually ashamed to admit that I have tried to prove my own self-worth to myself by pursuing the attention from those I felt ‘lucky’ enough to have been given it by. I should believe in myself far more than I do, as well as respect the person I have become as a result of my experiences. But, when you have been through such a traumatic ordeal it is hard to see how not to ‘make the most’ of a situation and take advantage of what you can. I have henceforth created a different identity, which I aimed to pin all the responsibility on- the person that emerges after a few alcoholic beverages. It is easy for me to blame the way I have been behaving on being drunk or tipsy, however  I am reluctant to admit it has been my own personal way of proving to myself that I am worth something. I KNOW I am going about it completely the wrong way, but when people don’t believe in you, that is when it gets harder. I have repetitively tried to demonstrate that I am not the mess I have been portrayed to be. However, it is ever so hard to do so without revealing the fact that I have and to a certain extent still am suffering from Anorexia.

My confidence plummeted and had pretty much disappeared since developing my eating disorder; I constantly brace myself for the insults and the disgusted looks I used to receive. It has become a habit to look out for such things. Acknowledging I have changed since then is most difficult because I have regarded myself as the ‘ill’ one for ever so long. When people are getting to know you, it is near impossible to spring upon them such a fact that you have suffered from Anorexia. It is embarrassing, it is a taboo subject and it is NOT talked about. I felt safe back at home where I was respected for my honesty, but at university I feel somewhat childish for admitting to having succumbed to an eating disorder; it feels like a much more sophisticated and mature world where mental disorders such as these are regarded as petty. I am aware this is probably my own paranoia of what others would think, but when it concerns a subject so rarely discussed, it is hard to believe that anyone would see it any other way. I have therefore sought to keep it a secret.

The secret of my Anorexia has been somewhat detrimental to my reputation, as people who do not know me judge me for my actions without really understanding why I have developed them in the first place. I was recently told I looked ‘very thin’ and it was humiliating. Of course the person who delivered this statement was completely unaware of the reason behind my figure. It caused a significant blow to my self-esteem, as I thought I had been doing incredibly well weight-wise after having refrained from losing any weight since starting university despite the ever present temptations of dieting. Having people around you complain about putting on weight and needing to exercise is hard to hear no matter how many times you have to convince yourself that you NEED to put on weight in order to remain healthy. I have somehow managed to stick to my guns, which is one of the few victories I can admit to as of yet. Determining correct portions has been one of the most difficult tasks I have had to undertake and I am constantly having to remind myself that I am NOT serving myself too large a portion and that even if I was, for now, I am doing myself no harm. I have an inner voice to answer to whenever I cook my evening meal. The desire to leave half my plate or to prepare a salad instead of carbohydrates nags away at you. I can report I have ignored it; however it has not stopped me feeling ridiculously unhealthy and even disgusting for so doing so. Being independent in this aspect of life is hard and I did not realise until very recently how much I depended on having someone to talk to.

During my therapy, I had someone who was impartial to whatever information I revealed to them; however re-entering ‘real life’ has been a wakeup call that people do judge you.  Whether it is your past or your present, people will always formulate some sort of prejudice about the person you really are. When people begin to not trust you because of actions that should be completely irrelevant to your personality, that is when it hits home that people are condemning you for the way you behave. Starting to write my blog was a revelation and I became, to a certain extent, dependent upon writing a weekly post. It was my way of juggling the many issues I had with myself and with my Anorexia. I therefore, undermined the power of my therapist and the comfort it brought to me to be able to speak to her weekly. It is only when you do not have someone like this at your disposal that you really appreciate just how much they did for you. Of course I am fully aware that I have a group of close friends to whom I can reveal anything I fear about- these girls being primarily my flat mates however, they are not an impartial outsiders to the situation, they are friends therefore and have their own opinions. What I miss is someone urging me to sift through how I personally feel about a situation and how I will put it right to put my mind at rest.

Despite my rant which has seemingly appeared to be a regression in my situation regarding my Anorexia, I am in fact doing very well weight wise and eating wise. The pride my parents show when I send them a picture of my culinary ‘skills’ is priceless and keeps me motivated that I am on the right track. The fact that no one has had to worry about my health or even had to look out that I am doing ok has been a huge weight off my shoulders; I was so used to having someone track my every move when it came to food. University has been a liberating process and one that I am very glad to finally be undergoing. Having recently celebrated my 20^th birthday, I am leaving behind the teenage years where I was constantly worrying about what I ate and when I ate and reaching state of maturity and self-content in my achievements so far. The only thing that is left for me now is to believe in myself. When that belief comes, only then will my mind be at rest. I have always been reliant on being liked by everyone I meet, however that cannot always be the case and I have to learn to accept that. I will not conform to fit someone’s expectations or to please anyone else but myself. It is only when I find myself again that I will be able to act in a way I will be proud to show off. People do get the wrong impression of you but there is only so long you can deny you are not like that before you begin to believe that you are. I thought I had found myself, but Solene is confident in herself and headstrong. I need to be that person again as opposed the damaged soul seeking reassurance in all the wrong places.