Miss Takes Educates

Mistakes. As humans we are rarely immune to the occasional mishap whereby the results of a particular event are not as we intended them to be. It is however how we deal with such blunders that distinguish the overall effect the results will have on the rest of your life or that of those around you.  Moving on from a mistake can take time depending on the enormity of its outcome and how much of a detrimental impact it has caused. The inflicted others have the potential to bear a grudge for an immeasurable amount of time and so though you will probably never forget, the constant reminder of your lapse in judgement will make it difficult to move on. As is typically recited, we all learn from our mistakes. It is not simply about setting out to rectify the damage, but there is equal importance held in what the experience has taught us. Though I admit to being a sceptic, there is to some extent a truth in that everything happens for a reason. I do not believe that our lives have been predestined for us in a way that we are fated to follow down a particular path, yet I do believe the aftermath of an atrocity can be led to a somewhat miraculous conclusion- unobtainable should you have made alternative decisions. Every cloud has a silver lining. It would be irrational to live in regret- you cannot change the past. My Anorexia has been my biggest mistake as of yet, though I cannot deny that the joyous events I would have previously been dubious of their likelihood of ever occurring, have surprisingly ensued as a result. I do not feel I should owe my Anorexia anything, but my life seems to have transpired in a beneficial way.

I am using my own experience to vocalise an honest description of what it is like to suffer from Anorexia, what the disorder is, how we deal with it and more painfully what the cause was. Though it is a very personal account, I feel I can of sorts vouch for others in a similar situation without sounding insincere. I have been alerted to the notion society has of mistakenly labelling a skinny person as ‘anorexic’. I continue to accentuate the complexity of Anorexia whereby it should not or CANNOT be used as an undermining insult to non-sufferers who happen to be of a slimmer nature. Our culture has begun to use valid medical terms in a derogatory way, such is the case with the word ‘spastic’, which had been previously a socially legitimate way to describe a person suffering from muscle spasms such as cerebral palsy. It is in using Anorexia in such a demeaning fashion that we underestimate its severity and create the misconception that it is purely a weight issue; it is more than this, it is a mental condition which affects the way we perceive our emaciated selves by surrendering to a punishing and gruelling starvation regime. Society has managed to blur the lines between what is truly Anorexia or simply a radical diet. You cannot switch off Anorexia or fall off the dieting band-wagon as it were by greedily indulging when the temptation becomes too much to bear. There is no allowance for spontaneous snacking. Ever. Each decision on what we are to eat requires immeasurable scrutiny and an agonising mental battle before it can even be conjured up before us. In re-establishing the foundations, the stigma associated with the disorder can be rectified in such a way that people will no longer be afraid to speak out and ask for help. 

When it was observed within a therapy session that I had begun to externalise myself from the Anorexia, a thought arose whereby I asked myself to what extent I have truly been able to do this at this stage? Looking back over my very first posts, it is undeniable that my recovery is well underway in comparison to the bleak and distorted views I had on life and my lack of motivation to get better. My writing has since become lighter; my future brighter and after months of darkness, finally attainable to me. In failing to find the cause behind my Anorexia, I would attempt to rationalise my family’s stress with something I was familiar with. The only logical justification in my diseased mind was to believe I was at the core of all their distress- a heavy weight to bear on my weakened and vulnerable shoulders. To me there was no potential for another reason behind what was previously a superficially harmonious family to suddenly be at knife’s edge with one another. A clarification hit me so suddenly that I realised the cause of the change in atmosphere was due to each one of us stopping taking what we thought were normal blood relationships for granted in only communicating over a ‘shovel it down as quick as possible’ evening meal and actually begin to care about one another. The recognition of fondness led to an inevitable hurt at the way I was destroying my relations, my body, my mind… my life. Every family has the odd argument, but the pressure caused by my loathsome disorder played a pivotal role in the increased frequency of quarrels. Though I have come to accept that I am not the sole basis of the disputes, I feel it would be a mistake to perceive it as evidence for externalisation as suggested to me by my therapist. She further probed me in asking what my relationship with my family would have been like now had I not developed Anorexia? Without hesitation I answered that there would have been no relationship. Our indifference for each other’s lives and enforced independence meant our only link and known similarities were by blood, yet this had up until my illness not been of any significance. I am grateful that though it took the direst of situations to come about, we have finally bonded.

My disorder does not warrant any compassion from me. The results of it that have been of value to me were not intentional from the Anorexia. In setting out to completely isolate me and turn me against my own body, it taught me to fight for myself and it forced me to be of much stronger character. So it is not with a thank you that I will ultimately leave my Anorexia behind with- it does not deserve my gratitude- it will be with a knowing smile that I have triumphed over it and come out a better person. It is time for me to stop running away from the Anorexia and run towards an incentive to help and educate others. In sitting back I would feel I have admitted defeat. I guess I still have the streak within me whereby I cannot settle to mediocrity and I must always strive for bigger and better aspirations- unfortunately I am deigned  to remain an all or nothing type of person. With Anorexia, I believe there is never a stage where it is simple tolerance of the disorder that has befallen you; you can either fight it or relinquish your control. One must however, never mistake the idea of acceptance of having Anorexia as tolerance.

Having pursued on many occasions complete independence, my illness has cured me of such stubborn desires in finally acquiring and accepting help from others. It is only fools that are not susceptible to changing their beliefs or ways of thinking; a naivety I have become accustomed to when questioned on my ability to cope at university if I couldn’t cope with the pressure of A-levels. A conundrum surfaced whereby I pondered how people could be fooled into believing we are destined to remain imprisoned by our mistakes and held captive from learning from them and moving forwards. If we were all to pity ourselves for our blunders, there would be no motivation and certainly no strength to fight for our cause, we would be doomed to live in fear and limit ourselves from our true capabilities should we fall down again. I finally trust that I CAN afford to be optimistic, as I have proved to myself that no matter how far I fell, I had the power to pick myself up again. If I a self-proclaimed pessimist can see the bright side, I have faith in others.

Many sufferers have found it useful in opting to bury the past, incarcerating their experience of the disorder into the unmentionable confines of their mind. There are vigorous attempts made to erase it entirely from their history and awkwardly side-step any reference to the past, due to their family’s combined inability to cope with the treacherous memories the subject would conjure up. The guilt and feelings are left concealed from the outside world, as it would be too tortuous to be worth invoking. Contrary to their personal choice of coping mechanism, we are not machines and unlike a computer, we cannot simply press the ‘undo’ button and permanently delete the mistake. The way my family and I have been affected as a result of my Anorexia and the consequent ways in which we dealt with it as an ensemble means that it is an event unlikely to be forgotten. I know and courageously accept that Anorexia will and forever be a part of me, yet I am adamant in putting a positive spin to what has undoubtedly been an atrocity in my life. It will not be an easy historical burden to bear and so I must take this experience on to my full advantage and encourage myself that the experience has made a constructive impact- this is the only way I will be able to eventually forgive myself for allowing to be viciously beaten by the illness. In recognising the promise of the inexplicable positive outcomes, I can allow myself to move on instead of wallowing in self-pity and begrudging the Anorexia. I can live a somewhat more fulfilled life with a supportive family I would otherwise not have acknowledged by my side. Life is full of mistakes; it is what we make of them that will discern us as a person.