Summertime Madness

Holiday. For many, this is the opportunity to take the time off work and relax, taking a well earned break from the hustle and bustle of life. For someone like me however, this is when the real work begins. Leaving your home means leaving your comfort zone entirely and losing control of your usually rigid diet. It is stressful to know you are entering several days of eating copious amounts of food served in hotel buffets or restaurants; you must deal with the constant temptation to completely avoid eating because no one is monitoring you. However, it can also be a time when you lose control entirely by overindulging on ‘forbidden’ foods that you have so long resisted. Eating these food is not a problem per se, yes the weight does need to be put on, yet it is the repercussions you have to deal with upon returning home and seeing the results on the scales. Although like for any other person a holiday is rewarding in its escape from reality, you can never completely switch off the niggling guilt.

Last summer I thought it would be beneficial for me to spend the three months away from my studies relaxing.  I had just stopped my anti-depressants and I was somewhat content in life. I did not bargain for the constant boredom and feeling of solitude during this time and it resulted in my relapse over the winter. As a result of this, I was determined to spend this summer constantly on my toes; I have achieved this! Since returning from Africa I have barely had time to breathe, as less than a week later I had embarked on a week back in Newcastle to work. During my time there, it felt good to be in complete control of my food intake again; being solely responsible for myself I could eat what and when I wanted. During this time I saw my GP who said that I looked a lot healthier than when she first met me in January, despite finding out that I had in fact lost a little weight in Africa. This came as a shock to me, as I was certain I had gained quite a bit considering the amount of food I believed I was having. I guess what I hadn’t factored in was that I wasn’t snacking and I was constantly active during this time. We also came to the decision that I would stay on my anti-depressants for at least another year, as with my looming applications to Dentistry, I do not feel I could handle potential rejections without their support.

Upon returning home for a few days, I was aware that my annual family holiday was approaching, whereby I would be spending 10 days of eating buffets for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Having experienced this type of all-inclusive holiday before I was almost certain I knew what hardship would be awaiting me. This looming knowledge meant that I was very aware of what I was eating a couple of days before leaving, especially when going out for lunch with one of my very close friends. Usually at Wagamamas I would have a normal noodle dish, yet on that day I could not face eating such a large meal when I knew just how much I would be eating in the next few days. I should not let such things influence my choice when ordering food; I should force myself to order what I WANT, but I ended up ordering a salad. My mind will sometimes mix up what I want with what my Anorexia feels I should eat. The hardest part for me eating out, is ordering food, as I must battle within my mind the choice I must make; finally eating what I choose seems like nothing compared to this struggle.

My 10 days in Turkey however, were certainly not plagued with any restrictions; I ate more than I would ever usually have allowed myself to eat in previous years since I have been ill. The week started somewhat difficult, as my sister has recently been diagnosed with gluten intolerance and a lot of the more calorific items on the buffet that I was eating (including desserts), she was not able to have herself. As if this wasn’t enough, she suffered from a 4 day bought of gastroenteritis and was therefore barely able to eat over these few days. Although it is hard to see someone eat less than me, I did not let it deter me from what I wanted to eat nor the amount I wanted to eat despite how conscious I was of this. A lot of the foods were hard to resist especially the fresh Turkish pastries that were available at both lunch and dinner. On two occasions as I was at the dessert table, people felt the need to comment on how many calories there were per bite of these luxurious pastries. Normal people would laugh along but I found it hard to stomach (no pun intended). Fortunately, I still went along and ate my fix of these sinful desserts. On top of this, I even had numerous sugar-laden cocktails to finish off my calorie-filled days.

Knowing that I need to put on weight, I let myself gorge and binge on the buffet over my holiday, which scared me. What if I continue to lose control in the opposite direction and start eating too much because I feel I can and I have so long resisted the temptation? Over my time away I did put on well over 1Kg, which is s weight gain that I am not used to achieving in such a short period of time. I prefer to take it slowly and so since my return I have wanted to stick to a weight maintenance diet rather than restoration in order to allow my mind to catch up and accept the weight gain. However, I was not to be allowed to do so, as yet again after a mere week at home I was leaving to stay with some friends in Cardiff. From day one I was eating, yet again, out of my comfort zone. Fortunately, I was with a friend who is extremely considerate of my struggles and so I was able to voice my concerns. Speaking my worries aloud made me realise how foolish these thoughts are and how they are not my own yet belong to my Anorexia. During my with her, I was able to have a pizza, drink sugary cocktails, have a full Sunday lunch topped off with dessert and have a pancake brunch. Despite me being proud of the foods I ate, I am not proud that I ‘allowed’ myself these foods by not eating one of the most important meals of the day, breakfast. I NEVER allow myself to skip this nowadays, as I know how important it is for me to stick to 3 meals a day. I don’t know what possessed me or why I let it happen but I am ashamed that it did.

I have a couple more holidays lined up before I eventually trudge back to my last year at Newcastle. The next one comes at the end of the week, whereby I will be spending a week in France being fed by my generous grandmother. As much as I love spending time with my family, she does tend to love over-feeding us, however in recent years she is getting a lot better at cutting down to normal portions. It is for this reason that I am not too afraid of my time out there and I am even eagerly anticipating the French pastries! Following this, my sister and I will be leaving for Italy for a week together and again, food will be a big part of the enjoyment of the holiday. All I can say for now is pizza and pasta here I come!

Great Big Expectations

Expectations. An event that you are anticipating to happen. When suffering from an eating disorder you become somewhat of a perfectionist, setting the bar high for yourself and expecting to see the results. Should you fall short of such standards, you feel a failure that overrides any logical way of thinking. It can make it harder to accept yourself accompanied by a persistent need of punishment for what is perceived as an ‘underachievement’. Most of the time your food intake takes the biggest hit. The same expectations can be laid down for recovery. There is an unspoken pressure to wake up one day and suddenly ‘be better’ but that is unlikely if not impossible. Eating a ‘forbidden’ food one day with no problem would mean you are henceforward expected to be fine with eating it again; that is not the case. Recovery from an eating disorder often fluctuates with your mood and so in the most difficult of times you cannot be expected to find recovery easy.

Having recently undertaken my second year university exams and having achieved a high grade in my midterms (to the detriment of my health), I felt an overwhelming need to keep up the standard this term.  Yet, I could not find the motivation to work as hard as I had done previously. I would watch my fellow colleagues work day and night in the library, whilst I idled around aimlessly. What I had failed to take into consideration was that I had worked consistently throughout the year and so I did not need to cram at the last minute. However, I still felt guilty for my ‘laziness’. Fortunately, being on fluoxetine this time around, it was much easier to cope with the stress and I did not fall into a depression nor did my diet take a hit. In hindsight, having received my results, I realise that my need to pressurise myself was futile and I was perfectly able to achieve good results. I just needed to believe in myself.

On returning to the doctors before leaving for my summer break, I was weighed; it had been 2 months. Considering the effort I had made previously to increase my calorie intake and finding very little effect on my weight, I was disheartened. Yet I hoped beyond expectation that my work had finally been rewarded. Fortunately, I was not to be disappointed having put on 1Kg a month; a slow and steady weight gain I was comfortable with. I was proud of myself, yet scared of feeling gluttonous.  This somewhat took a toll on the types of foods I felt I was ‘bingeing’ on, as I found it difficult to eat the large portion of dried fruit and nuts I had been previously snacking on. This was not aided by my return home whereby dinner is served far earlier than I would have it at university, therefore my stomach would still be full from my extensive snack. Any normal person when they are not hungry would be able to skip a meal no problem, but I must rely on having my 3 meals a day and a snack in order to keep up my weight and restore it. It therefore makes me feel greedy when I eat despite being full. It seems an alien concept.

As summer rolled in, my trip to Tanzania was looming ever closer. Having booked it over Christmas when I was still losing weight, it had been a huge motivation to get myself back on track. My parents were adamant that at a low weight, they would not allow me to go. I was therefore grateful for my return on the path to recovery. Three weeks in Africa seemed daunting. Strangers would surround me and foods I was comfortable with would probably not be readily available. I expected to struggle; how wrong I was. My trip with Gap Medics was to become one of the most awe-inspiring experiences I ever had, as I got to shadow one of the most incredible dentists whilst out there. Not only this but I made friends and got close to people in such a short space of time, which I had never expected. Being used to staying somewhat solitary a lot of the time, I was not used to having people around me constantly, yet it was a breath of fresh air. I feel much more confident in myself coming back. I may actually be fun to hang around with again and that my eating disorder is NOT what defines me.

The food was hit and miss. Obviously within the space of three weeks I would have some ups and downs. The trip did not start positively in terms of food, as after nearly 48 hours of travelling to our final destination, I had barely moved an inch and my whole metabolism was sluggish. I was not the only one to feel this and so I was very aware of how little everyone was eating the first couple of days, this made it very difficult for me to subsidise myself properly, yet I persisted. Breakfasts would be laden with crepes and nutella, French toast and other confectionaries that were hard to resist. I had to keep reminding myself that I had to eat in order to have energy at the hospital. Fortunately breakfast was never so much an issue, as porridge and exotic fruits would also be available. Come lunchtime, some days I would be so wrought with guilt from a big breakfast that I felt the need to return to the house and have a salad or soup from the pantry, whilst others would go into town for lunch and order pizzas and Panini’s with no problem. Throughout the weeks I became more at ease and was able to join them; it was good to know that I could finally win through and enjoy myself.

Come dinnertime however, my resolve differed everyday. We were catered for and of course being in Africa, the majority of the food was carbohydrate based. VERY scary. At home my parents cook very healthily with no excessive oils and fats, yet in Africa the food was laden with cooking oil to add ‘flavour’ to the dishes and I found this very hard to handle. The food was served as a buffet and there was variety, so I could eat as little or as much as I liked. Buffets are one of my weaknesses with Anorexia, as I find it so much easier to underfeed myself, but I pushed myself to eat normally by discreetly observing other people’s normal portions. I was even able to keep up a normal pace of eating the whole time I was there. As the weeks passed I felt I was probably gaining weight, yet I felt increasingly more comfortable with the food I was being served and I started to enjoy it. On a couple of occasions I even went for seconds; I NEVER do this. I have always found it easier to eat when I am away from my routine and Africa definitely proved it. I was so glad that my days were not ruined by my eating disorder. In fact, I put it very little thought whilst I was out there compared to a typical day.

By not suffering from any body dismorphia, I have always been aware of when I look skinny and it knocks my confidence. Being skeletal is far from attractive and unfortunately, I do care how others perceive me. I was only just about ok with my weight leaving for Africa, but my arms- which have never been big- still looked as spindly as ever and my ribs, though not prominent, were visible. I was hyper aware of comments that could be made about my weight or even expected disgusted looks when I stripped down to a bikini. Yet, I found people more than accepting despite many off-hand comments on how ‘tiny’ I am; I am aware of the innocence behind them. My only criticism of the people would be when they would refer to the chicken as ‘anorexic’ due to the limited amount of meat to be found on them. It is not OK to use such a term in a derogatory way; it seems to downplay the importance and legitimacy of an eating disorder. Yes I am still underweight and I do aim to achieve a normal BMI, yet I would hate for people to find my current figure disturbing and disgusting.

Sometimes it’s easier to aim low for yourself, to avoid future disappointment, yet this is not a good way to live. Expecting to fail is miserable and I can vouch for that, as I have so long lived by these morals. By observing those in poverty in Africa, it may be cliché to come out with how I came to realise how lucky I am, but I truly did. These people were content, friendly and more often than not had smiles on their faces despite deprivation.  I must be more positive, as I accept things about myself that I have so long denied. I can be sociable and I can function in groups of people without coming across an outsider. I also do not feel the need to fake happiness in my personality, as I truly believe I have achieved a sense of serenity and peace in my life at the moment. So long I had been faking contentment but now I feel I am finally getting somewhere in life, heading somewhere and making something of myself. I just need to expect great things from myself and leave the Anorexia behind.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Laughter. A human behavior that is an outward signal emulating a particular emotion. Whether it is a reaction to humour or whether it is a way one deals with pain and loss, laughter can be a therapeutic way to release inner feelings. The most common association of the laugh is one of amusement, whereby we express our appreciation in a moment of hilarity. When suffering from mental disorders merriment can seem like a rare occurrence, especially when dealing with depression. Since falling victim to my anorexic tendencies yet again over Christmas, it seemed that joy was seldom a part of my life as I wallowed in my dark mood and lack of enthusiasm. However, recently since restarting my anti-depressants I have acquired a new perspective on my life, feeling more fulfilled and actually enjoying what I do. When you cannot see the end of the tunnel, it is hard to ever imagine you will reach the place where you are content.

Having the opportunity to go skiing yet again this year with my friends at university, it was a motivation to get myself on a weight restoration diet so I could be healthy enough to go. I find that no matter how much I eat, putting on weight has been extremely slow this time around. Although, I am far more comfortable taking weight gain in its stride, I had expected it to go at a faster rate, much like 2 years ago. Therefore, I left to ski at a lower weight than I would have liked. It is very scary for me to eat ‘fear foods’ and I feel at times like I am getting out of control and overindulging. What if I cannot stop myself from eating so much food once I have attained my target weight? What if I start bingeing after such a long period of restriction? What if…? What if…? What if…?

What I must bare in mind at all times is that I was able to do it once before; I guess the only scary part is this time I feel more alone. Despite having the means to should I so wish, I do not have the support of my therapist and living away from my family at home I do not have their constant support either. It makes it more difficult to stay motivated on my path, yet I feel I have accomplished a lot despite this. I know I will always have people to talk to, even some I had not expected to still be behind me, yet its never easy to admit out loud when you are having problems. I find it hard to trust people with my deepest emotions especially when I feel that exposing myself emotionally in the past has led me to nothing but trouble. My blog has been one of the only ways I cannot lie to others or myself that something is wrong. Yes it is revealing myself in a more public way than I would like, but this way people can chose or not to read and take on my burdens by offering help.

I have come to realise that one of the biggest fears stopping me from wanting to go out is the cold. I have a phobia of the cold wracking through my body and tensing up all the muscles in my back; I associate the cold with a bad time in my life. It therefore seems contradictory that I would chose a skiing holiday to challenge my going out fears, yet it worked wonders. I can safely say, not once did I feel cold on my week away, something I have not felt in a very long time and it was refreshing. I was able to enjoy myself and socialise in a way I had not done since succumbing to Anorexia again; I was not self-conscious of being myself. I did not over analyse whether people liked me, how what I said would be interpreted and I came to accept that my company was one that was appreciated. It is hard to feel accepted when you have been a social recluse for so long but not once did I not feel comfortable with anyone I was with.

Being around supportive friends 24/7 who had no care in the world about their diets, yet ate sanely was extremely beneficial to me. I was able to eat a croque-monsieur (an ultra cheesy concoction on bread) served with chips i.e. carbs and fat overload, without much fear at all. In fact I was able to not even feel the guilt I usually would from eating such foods. If others I respect and look up to could do it, then so could I.  I also indulged myself in pizza as well as crisp like nibbles between meals; something I have abstained from doing since I first became ill 3 years ago! Eating at a regular pace is something I feel I can do when in public, however, I like to have at least one meal a day where I can take my time and I do not have to think about eating. I had no such choice on the matter this week and it was stressful but I did find myself able to eat around a table at a regular pace with all my friends.

Although I am loathe to admitting it to my parents and family, it is a holiday fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol. In my eyes, alcohol is full of empty calories so again I fear its effects, especially when eating so heartily at the same time. Yet, I was able to put these thoughts aside and drank alcohol mixed with sugary juices before going out in the evenings, as well as slurping on the occasional vin chaud or two in the afternoon. Although, I have been able to drink alcohol previously, I would never usually succumb to the hunger pangs one usually gets after a night out due to the hypoglycemic effects of alcohol. However, without a care in the world I would indulge on yet more calories upon coming home from a night full of dancing. I felt normal.

I cannot believe the effects that leaving the country and the comforts of a ritual has made to me. I literally pushed all the boundaries I had been afraid of for so long and could be myself. I have only the group of friends I went on holiday with to thank for that, as without them I do not think I would have had half the fun I did. I cannot remember the last time my stomach hurt from laughing so much, yet it was a regular occurrence over the week. I find myself even smiling as I write this, so thank you everyone. Yes, it is still tough for me but the fact remains, that I know I can fight the Anorexia and I hope to say one day that it has been beaten once and for all.

I will try to fix you...

Fix. When something goes wrong, there is a requirement to adjust the situation and revert things to their natural order. It is never clear which route is the right one to take in order to achieve the sense of harmony there was before and more often than not there are multiple paths to choose from. However, the problem arises when wanting a quick route out of the situation. There is never a happy ending quick fix. In the case of finding a treatment for Anorexia, seldom will sufferers find the same route to recovery the right one for them. This is what makes it so difficult to treat an eating disorder; trial and error can take months if not years. Breaking out of fixed habits however is a necessity. Recovery can be slow but it is also achievable with perseverance.

 After having finally accepted that I was not yet strong enough mentally to cope without antidepressants, I started upon a new course of medication in the New Year. It was not a decision neither my GP nor I took lightly. Antidepressants, as many would be led to believe, are not an easy way out of dealing with rough patches in ones life and are to be taken as a serious way to help people manage with depression. A subsequent effect to suffering from Anorexia is often depression and for me I was led into a viscous circle of originally not having the strength to once more fight and win against my Anorexia. Since then I am proud of my achievements. I have come on leaps and bounds and have once more started to be the person I have always strived to be. Of course I am not in denial that things are still tough and I still have a lot yet to fix, but in the last 3 months, I yet again cannot compare myself to the person I had been over the Christmas period.

The hardest thing about reattempting recovery is the weight restoration. I constantly kick myself that I allowed myself to once again lose a significant amount of weight, as putting it back on is a lot tougher than it seems. I currently feel as if I am constantly eating and snacking in order to achieve the extra 2500 calories it takes to put on 1pound in a week. I wish I could snap my fingers and my body would be back to what it was over summer when I was at one of my happiest and most confident. Yet, at the same time I NEED to take this slowly and readjust to my body building up again. I am on the same restoration diet I was on when I initially lost the weight but I have yet to see what benefits it has been having. I continued losing weight despite my increased calorie intake and at first this was disheartening. But why give up? Why admit defeat? I managed to restore my weight once and therefore am perfectly capable of doing it again; I believe I have finally reached the upward spiral. I have turned the curve around.

Skiing has always been my outlet, despite going barely more than one week a year. When I was first recovering 2 years ago, I came back from a week away in the mountains feeling rejuvenated and ready to fight. So this year when I joined my family for a brief holiday away I challenged myself as I had never challenged myself before. I had pastries for breakfast, I had hot chocolate on the slopes, pancakes and I even had a pizza. I even went for a hearty 3 course meal and ate it all to which my dad admitted had made him so happy to see me eat so freely again and enjoy it. I came to accept that it would not hurt my body to have such calorie dense food once in a while and that I actually needed it to sustain my body after physical exertion and the cold. I will admit these are feats I will not be repeating again very soon, but it broke a barrier in my brain that I had for so long been fighting against. 

Coming back to university was the biggest surprise for me. I ditched the calculator and have officially stopped religiously counting my daily calorie intake; something I had not done for over a year. I used to fix my calorie intake so that it would always fall below a target amount. Naively I had yet again let my Anorexia poison me into thinking it wouldn’t do me any harm but would empower me and make me stronger. I was weak. I was cold. I was losing weight.  I read Biomedical Sciences and am well aware of the implications of starvation, yet I did not let that logic apply to myself at the time. Realising I had fallen back into the noxious delirium created by the Anorexia, I had to push through my clouded mind and once again recover. If anything this has now made me stronger. I can admit this as I sit here thinking about things other than the number of calories I will allow myself to eat today.

With a newfound determination to recover, came my desire to once more go out and socialise. I realise that I cannot yet be spontaneous with plans and that they do still revolve around my meal times, yet I have allowed myself a lot more flexibility. It still makes me anxious breaking out of my comfortable eating habits, but if I want to live a normal life, I must challenge it. Meeting a like-minded person, who also supported me every step of the way, has been of a huge benefit to me. I have found someone I can just relieve all my anxieties with, without the fear of being judged and I find that comforting. It has allowed me to take the baby steps in my recovery and slowly immerse myself back into a healthy social life, without being pushed in to the deep end. Of course that is not to say that others around me and back at home have not supported me too. I am always in constant awe of how much people really do care.

I have always set the bar high for myself, so not seeing immediate effects of a recovery can be very discouraging to me. However, I have learnt to use the pressure I put on myself in a positive way. I utilise it in my challenges and in my need to achieve. It can be frustrating at times to not wake up without having to worry about having enough calories in the day, or being socially anxious about going out and leaving my comfort zone. I am 21 years old and I should not be afraid of going out and having fun, but the run up can seem like such a chore as I push myself to not back out of commitments. I have so much to look forward to and I know they can only be achieved through my continued fight against Anorexia. It will be slow and I will feel like I’m going nowhere at times.  What I must always remember however is that one-day I will be fixed.