Heavily Aweighted Apologies

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

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

My brother being the oldest and only boy in the family has always been independent and relished the opportunity to move to university a couple of hours away from his childhood home three years ago. I was- like my dad- never especially close with my brother, as he would generally stay solitary in his bedroom or play on his playstation when at home and the consequential transition of him moving out of the household did not particularly affect me much. It is with great sadness that I reflect on the fact my brother and I were not much closer growing up, as he has a strong mentality towards life that I can really aspire to. I honestly do look up to him. I consider him to have been fortunate to have been away from all the turmoil whilst I was at the beginning of my Anorexia, though it meant he experienced my change in personality and weight as a far more drastic transformation. My brother only saw me on our holiday in New York where though I had begun to be very controlling, I still had a hold of myself and looked relatively healthy and only again in the middle of my A-Level exams when I was truly at my worst. Having been unaware until his visits home that I was so dramatically ill, it must have been a shock to see me so weak and led to the inevitable incomprehension as to why I would put myself and the family through such a stressful ordeal. I could in no way have guessed what he would have to say about me and my Anorexia.

‘When Solene first approached me asking for my input into her blog, I must admit my first impulse was to wonder; what more could I add? I am away for most of the year studying in Nottingham, only coming home occasionally and so I miss most of the pain and anguish my whole family endure on a day to day basis.  It’s a bit like living in an oblivious bubble where my contact with anorexia during term time extends only as far as a polite question as to how my sister is doing on my twice weekly skype with my parents. Being so far removed from it all I didn’t believe I would have that much to add to this discussion, I didn’t even find out about my sisters illness till a month after her infamous incident with my mother. I cannot therefore say what it’s like to live with an anorexic sister in the same way my other family members can, however what I can do is make a direct comparison to my sister before I left for university and the sister I found when I come home for holidays.

I remember perfectly exactly a year ago on our family weekend break to NYC, gorging myself in restaurants to American classics like rack of ribs and Texmex with the rest of my family (including Solene). Of course being in America the portion sizes were enormous, but this didn’t daunt us and we always cleaned our plates (including Solene!). This is what shocked me most, that barely a month and a half later, after being away to sit my exams my sister had suddenly gone from supersize me to miniature portion sizes containing ridiculously little calories a day. The transformation was complete and the speed at which it occurred was breath-taking. It was not only her eating habits that had changed in that month but she had also managed to lose so much weight that she was almost unrecognisable from the sister I had known.

Being a pharmacy student I always had in the back of my mind that simply giving her a few drugs will make everything fine, especially when the exam stress of A levels is over. One day in particular sticks out as being the time when her illness finally sunk in and I realised that this was not going to be a quick easy recovery. My sister has already described her ordeal in the Tai restaurant at Bicester, but I would like to add (and I’m ashamed to say this) that I joked about my sister’s appearance looking for a prom dress thinking that everything will be normal again in a few weeks. It wasn’t till we sat down at the end of the day and Solene flat out refused to touch her soup, basically flavoured water, for fear of not knowing the calorie content that I understood her mind was far removed from what it had been in America and it would take time to heal.

My relationship had changed for the better with both my sisters since I left for university as I was never particularly close to them before. Often my immature behaviour would irritate and in hindsight I can see I wasn’t a very good brother, but I would like to think I’ve done some growing up over the last couple of years and my relations with Solene and Juliet have benefited. I do not think that my relationship with Solene has changed that much, only to say that I never talk to her directly about her illness preferring instead to focus on the things she enjoys. I can see Solene has done a lot of growing up during her gap year and I’m particularly impressed by this blog she writes every week which I believe to be helping immensely with her recovery. I can now see a sign of improvement, Solene is now willing to go to restaurants and see her friends which is very encouraging and compared to a year ago she seems to have undergone yet another transformation. I wish her every success on her road to recovery.’

Dubious of my ability to evoke much emotion from what my brother had to say, I did not expect to see myself crying at his words. They shocked me. I can safely say that I have never seen him reveal so much of his thoughts and feelings. The idea that the very first time I would get him to open up to me (or to anyone in his proximity for that matter) would be to expose his sentiments so honestly about his concern on my wellbeing is emotionally stirring. I have underestimated my brother’s sensitivity, having never thought he would be so selfless in taking the time to write for me. Therefore saying I feel grateful seems like an understatement. He has so clearly summed up what I had believed to be the case, whereby having missed the transition between New York and my exams, he saw the transformation as a rapid snap decision. Maybe this is why he did not realise the full extent of it? How could the sister who a mere month ago had previously enjoyed a whole roasted chicken to herself with chips with him, turn to not even being able to eat her vegetables without feeling like she was being tortured? The disbelief must have led to the notion that I was putting it on for show.

The ‘bubble’ in which he was able to live in means I do not resent the way in which he treated my illness so flippantly. In all honestly, I believe that up until the very moment my family and I sat at the infamous restaurant, I myself had not realised how serious my Anorexia had become and how it was now absolutely out of my control. It was the moment for all of us to realise it was not a joke or something I was likely to snap out of so quickly. None of us could dismiss it as a cry for attention anymore and I am glad that my brother acknowledges that I never intended to hurt my family in such a way. Like me, his time away from school has matured him beyond belief and he is no longer the troublesome boy he described himself to be. What I can be eternally appreciative for is the fact he never treated me differently as a result of my illness and his newfound maturity resulted in his ability to judge my need for normality with respect by keeping the conversations as they would have always been. Even if he may not see it, he is a perfect brother. I agree that we are closer albeit not seeing one another on a regular basis, yet we do not need that sort of relationship, as we know that no matter the length of time we stay apart, our reunion will bear no difference to any previous encounters. I consider him as another of my supporters, being completely unafraid to come to him with my most irrational of fears.

As is typical I have left the ‘best’ till last; my sister’s experience being the one I have awaited with bated breath. There is always a sense of sibling rivalry within families; however it became far more intense between my sister (Juliet) and me due to my need for competition. Juliet has always been very mature for her age (even as far as being mistaken to be the same age as me sometimes!) and due to her near identical lifestyle as mine with the dancing and food she ate, she was the ideal person for my Anorexia to hone in on and go beyond the initial imitating to competing. I would constantly use her as a basis of comparison by measuring up what I ate or how much I exercised in relation to her. I would ensure I would always have less than her. I would ‘slyly’ sneak a glance at what she had in her plate at dinner, as she would sit next to me, feeling euphoric when she took extra condiments such as bread or cheese and when she got home from school I would always pretend I had to talk to her so I could observe what snack she was eating. I thought I was very discrete about it but no amount of canniness could hide from her what I was doing. The way I treated her to deny what I was doing when she eventually confronted me was vicious. I was extremely jealous of the freedom she had with food but I especially resented my sister for parading in front of me the life I should have been living. Whilst growing up we were never content with the way we looked, aspiring to have the physique of someone else; we were both unaware that we secretly coveted one another’s figures! Jealousy is so rightly described as one of the deadly sins. I single-handedly destroyed the trust between us, but I hope I have been making it up to her at a satisfactory level even though sorry just doesn’t seem to be enough. What she had to say about me was not only going to be tough for her deliver but most likely painful for me to read.

‘Previous to my sister’s anorexia I felt as though I could tell her everything, knowing that I could confide in her without having to worry about it being repeated. Our bond began to break, however, when I first noticed the change in my sister’s feeding habits; I would often accuse her of attention seeking, resulting in extensive arguments over her always wanting things to be about her. The most poignant dispute was on holiday in Morocco where we were all enjoying a much needed family holiday, when I accused her of flaunting her illness and being proud of it by standing around in her bikini for all to see. I strongly regret this argument which left us both in tears, as I now realise that I had wrongly accused her due to a simple misunderstanding of what she was going through. Since we were children we had always been able to rely on each other, and to have this support vanish left us both in distress, with nobody to turn to when the going got tough. Although I was not the one suffering with an illness, I still needed my sister.

When it all started I thought that my sister had cut down on certain foods due to wanting to lose weight, which angered me further due to the fact that I had always been jealous of the figure which she had, and constantly compared it to my own. I could not understand why she was willingly changing the way she looked when I wished nothing but to resemble her. Yet once again this was just an assumption, had I only delved further, asked more questions, I would have known the real motive behind it.

As time went on we were growing further and further apart, feeling as though we had nothing in common, with nothing left to say to each other.  Eventually it reached the point where every time my sister opened her mouth to speak I would will her to keep it shut, as I could no longer stand the sound of her voice, believing that the words which would be spoken would be revolved around her. I guess this was me expressing my resentment at what the anorexia had done to my family, we were all breaking apart, and though my parents had each other to vent their troubles to, I had nobody. I knew my friends were there if ever I wanted to talk about it, but they didn’t know what it was like to go through this. Witnessing your sister whittle away to practically nothing, feeling helpless because there is nothing you can do to help her and above all knowing that she needs you there to support her, but being so scared that you just sit and watch her deteriorate before your eyes.

We continued our lives, each going our own way, not bothering to make any effort to rekindle the broken relationship. However as time went by and I began to realise the severity of the illness my sister was suffering with, I felt guilty - guilty that I had been so ignorant. She couldn’t help it. I had no reason to punish her by ignoring her friendly advances or replying bluntly to any effort she made to speak to me; none of this had been her fault.

Thanks to this blog, I now understand the reason behind this illness and realise that I was one of those people who believed the misconception that those suffering with anorexia were only doing it for attention and could stop it whenever it pleased them. I can now see that my sister is well on her way to recovery, and though we may not speak about it, we do need each other for the final stretch. There is a long road ahead for both my sister and I, our relationship is not going to fix itself, but now that I understand what she is going through, we can begin to rebuild our relationship and hopefully, eventually, get back to how we used to be.’

It took me time to recompose myself after ploughing my way through my sister’s beautifully written literature. I have rarely felt a desire so strong to reach out for her and hug her tightly to me in a bid to console our fragmented relationship and to wish that the physical closeness could heal the broken bond between us. Without her I feel incomplete. In the way I underestimated my brother, I overestimated my sister in her initial ability to comprehend my illness. I cannot begrudge her for the way she reacted as a result of my apparent selfishness. Juliet had known me so well- every minute detail- so it therefore seems she could only rationalise this horrific change in my behaviour as attention seeking and a sense of greed she was accustomed to. Anorexia and its consequent roller-coaster mood-swings were not in her vocabulary.

The stabbing pain in my heart depicts the anger I feel at myself for letting my sister go. She was alone and at her age having always depended on the confidence and reassurance of her older sister, the way I abandoned her was corrupt. She may not have been suffering physically to the same degree but her need for me resulted in a near equality in emotional suffering. Like with many around me, broaching the subject of my Anorexia and the arousal of numerous questions was an impenetrable conversational barrier. No one dared muster up the courage to ask the many queries they had and filling in the gaps with their own assumptions. It was only through the writing of my blog that I could express myself and answer them. I found it was all too often those that cared for me the most who resigned themselves to leaving them unanswered, with the pain from the potential answer overriding their curiosity; my sister was therefore not alone in her inability to ask and try to understand.

It was never her duty to look after me being the younger sister but it WAS my role as her older sister to protect her from the pretences of how we see our weight and dieting. She should never have felt pressurised by me. Though she claims she could only ‘watch’ me deteriorate, I was at a point where no amount of insistence from a third party could sway my Anorexia into relinquishing its control over me. She is not to feel guilty of her inability to cope or help me as I wish with all my might I had not brought her into the centre of the mayhem within my mind. She need not have been involved. One of my favourite lines is ‘it takes two to tango’, though she feels she rebuffed any advance I made to befriending her again, I was the one who sought to push her away in the first place. Had I not allowed the Anorexia to do so, I would not have had to work so hard to regain her friendship. I believe we are getting there though- little by little- as I am beginning to return to my old self. It is vital she understands I am still there for her. I need her as much as she needs me.

So the time has come for my ultimate apology. To my dad, I am sorry that I ever made you feel to blame for the way you raised us as children, the Anorexia was never your fault and I want to thank you for your eternal love and support for me. To my mum, I am sorry that I ever made you feel insignificant compared to my dad in my failed attempt to protect you from the extent of the disorder and I want to personally thank you for working on now having become the ideal mother. To my brother, I am sorry we were never closer growing up and that I made your visits home turn from sanctimonious to a living hell and I want to thank you for genuinely opening up so honestly to me; that fact alone has touched me. Finally to my little sister, I am sorry for abandoning you and unloading my jealousy and resentment entirely onto you, you did not deserve that weight on your shoulders and I thank you for being so brave throughout the ordeal and forgiving me for my atrocious behaviour. Albeit this, we are a closer family as a result. I am still however, sorry.