Reality Served On a Platter

Comparison. An act conducted by the putting together of two things in order to distinguish their similarities and differences. Every one of us compares ourselves to another, be it in admiration or to raise ones self-esteem. It is a way by which we determine what is acceptable in society or what we can be led to believe is ‘perfection’. Comparing yourself negatively can only lead to dissatisfaction and so why should be feel obliged to covet the life or looks of someone we idolise? In a sense it does give you a goal to reach and a motivation, but if it is simply unrealistic and unattainable then misery ensues. People blame eating disorders on the media who seemingly promote the need to be ‘model thin’- a judgement with some merit due to the influential and persuasive nature of the industry. However, it is not necessarily the comparison of one’s self to the likes of a model which is a sole cause, as you can find competition anywhere if you are particularly seeking it. The whole ‘my horse is bigger than your horse’ scenario spurs the Anorexia into overdrive as it aims to dominate. The requirement to be the lightest or to have the smallest meal is amplified by the illusion of sizing your body up or the meal in front of you during comparisons. It is a constant fight to regain the trust in yourself to be able to judge a portion correctly or accept what you see in the mirror.

It was a somewhat welcome surprise to realise that a whole year had passed since I had begun to record a food diary. Though it has been a month or so since I have not felt the need to keep track of my intake, for the purpose of my blog this week I have decided to portray the differences between my portion sizes a year to the day. In providing you with a direct comparison, you can see just how far I have come in my recovery process. It is also a way of proving to myself that the hard work is paying off. The weight regain is only validation of this. 

Day	Meal	2011	2012
11/06	Breakfast	Cereal, Juice	Cereal, Benecol, Juice
	Lunch	½ Light Choice Meal, Muller Light yogurt, Fruit	1/2 Carton Soup, Muller Corner, Fruit
	Dinner	Cup-a-Soup, Ryvita	Pasta with Puttanesca Sauce, Scrambled Egg with Tomato, Shape Chocolate yogurt, Fruit
	Snack	Weight Watchers Chocolate Mousse	Morning: Dried Fruit and Nut, Evening: Reese’s Chocolate
12/06	Breakfast	Cereal, Juice	Chocolate Porridge with Water, Juice
	Lunch	Veal, Peas, Fruit	1/2 Carton Soup, Lemon yogurt, Fruit
	Dinner	Soup, Ryvita, Muller Light Yogurt	Prawn Stirfry, Chocolate yogurt, Fruit
	Snack	1 Mini Toblerone Triangle	Morning: Dried Fruit and Nuts, Evening:Tobelerone triangle, Macaroon
13/06	Breakfast	Cereal, Juice	Chocolate Porridge with Water, Juice
	Lunch	Soup, Muller Light yogurt, Fruit	1/2 Carton Soup, Muller Corner, Fruit
	Dinner	Egg, 6 Asparagus	M&S Beef Cannelloni, Chocolate yogurt, Fruit
	Snack	Weight Watchers Chocolate Mousse	Morning: Dried Fruit and Nuts Afternoon: roughly 1/3 Medium Salty Popcorn
14/06	Breakfast	Cereal, Juice	Chocolate Porridge with Water, Juice
	Lunch	Chicken, Ebly, Tomato, Fruit	1/2 Carton Soup, Yogurt, Fruit
	Dinner	Soup, Ryvita, Fruit	Steak, Steamed Potatoes, Salad with Vinaigrette, Chocolate yogurt, Fruit
	Snack	1 Chocolate Covered Orange Rind	Morning: Dried Fruit & Nuts Evening:Macaroon, Toblerone Triangle
15/06	Breakfast	Cereal, Juice	Chocolate Porridge with Water, Juice
	Lunch	Soup, Muller Light yoghurt, Fruit	1/2 Carton Soup, Muller Corner, Fruit
	Dinner	Salmon, Ryvita with Extra Light Philadelphia Spread, 4 Grapes	Fish Pie, Melon, Chocolate yogurt, Fruit
	Snack	Weight Watchers Lemon Mousse	Morning: Dried Fruits and Nuts Evening:Chocolate Macaroon, Toblerone Triangle
16/06	Breakfast	Cereal, Juice	Chocolate Porridge with Water, Juice
	Lunch	Soup, Ryvita, Muller Light yogurt, Fruit	1/2 Carton Soup, Smarties yogurt, Fruit
	Dinner	Chicken, Mash	2 Slices Ham, Butterbeans in Tomato Sauce, Caramel yogurt, Fruit
	Snack	Alpen Light Bar	Morning:Dried Fruit and Nuts Evening:2 Toblerone Triangles
17/06	Breakfast	Cereal, Juice	Chocolate Porridge with Water, Juice
	Lunch	Veg Pot, Fruit	Guinea-Fowl with Cider Gravy, Tagliatelle, Muller Corner, Fruit
	Dinner	Soup, Fruit	Smoked Salmon, Asparagus with Light Choices French Dressing, Caramel Yogurt, Fruit
	Snack	Weight Watchers Lemon Mousse, 1 Thorntons Truffle	Afternoon:Dried Fruit and Nuts Evening: Chocolate and Caramel Millionaire's Tart

I have refrained from including the quantity of calories or the amount of each food-type that was consumed even though I had meticulously recorded both of these to the last digit during my restriction phase. My reasons being that NO ONE should emulate this pitiful diet for which I was blinded into seeing as ‘3 balanced meals’. The consequences of me having followed this particular stage in my nutrition plan for around 3 weeks were catastrophic which is when I started visiting my dietician. My weight plummeted dangerously low in a scarily small amount of time; I was weak, cold and exhausted. My metabolism had slowed down to a sluggish pace with my whole digestive tract working sporadically. But a terrifying result was a partial loss of hearing at random and frequent times. My body was shutting down even my most essential of senses in order to preserve the little energy entering my body. You could hardly dare to imagine that this was what I was nourishing myself with in the middle of my exams nor believe that I could achieve the results I accomplished as a consequence- my mum at the time did not understand the disorder and would try and scare me into eating by telling me I would fail. It is true I wasn’t receiving the necessary strength from my food to flourish.

 What you must also be made aware of, is that the 2011 plan I have shared with you was devised from an agreement with my parents to slowly increase my calorie intake. I was in fact eating far less than this before the decision was made. I distinctly remember- as I am unlikely to ever forget- sitting in the kitchen in the evening bargaining with my dad on the food I would eat the next day; I would cry and protest if he forced upon me a quantity of food larger than what my Anorexia was prepared to allow me to have. Following the tediously long period it would take for me to finish a meal, I would then have to further endure what would often take up to half an hour each evening sifting through the many ‘no’s’ from me until my diet was formulated. I was not to sway from our pre-arranged agreement; it was like a binding contract. If I missed out on reaching my target one day, my dad would press upon me the need to make up for it the next day on top of the target I had been set; when you eat so little, every calorie skipped counts. Initially eager at the prospect of creating an exciting new diet plan with a professional dietician, I had led myself to believe that she would commend my eating habits and was convinced she would create a ‘healthier’ version of my low calorie diet. As this was clearly and quite rightly not the case, my Anorexia felt deceived and initially fought back harder and so I scoffed at any suggestion made to improve my intake. 

 Calories and fat content were not my only downfall; the perception of quantity played a huge role in my inability to consume even the minimum required number of calories. The Anorexia deliberately eliminated the meagre calorie density of the food in my own plate from that of others around me. A meal where I would have had more in my plate regardless of how many less calories there were caused me immeasurable distress. It is bizarre to think that the sheer sight of half a pepper in my plate caused me to cry in disbelief as much as if a block of cheese had been placed in front of me to eat. I would refuse any accompanying sauces, any shred of fat or anything that had touched oil in the cooking process. Therefore food was tasteless and bland- a poison as opposed to the medicine for my condition that it really was. 

Revisiting what I would eat a year ago has been not only insightful but a huge shock to me. I have easily conjured up the memory of the horrible guilty feelings that would surge through my body as I ate and the pain caused through each mouthful but I find it impossible to explain how I can still be jealous of the person that ate so little. I KNOW I never want to fall back into Anorexic tendencies and become a shell of who I am again, but I have not yet been able to shut out the increasingly rare stream of venomous thoughts from my Anorexia- though I no longer act upon the impulse. I asked myself when I would consider myself to be recovered. Truth be told, though I know I will most likely glance at the calorie content for the rest of my life (it is impossible with the traffic light colours blaring out at you at the front of food packets) I want to reach the stage where I can trust myself to judge a correct portion. I know I could so easily revert back to serving myself that spoonful less by deeming it ‘unnecessary’ even though I want it. I also don’t quite know what a regular portion is anymore so all portions are served by or compared to that of my parents. If I am to serve myself I seek reassurance from those around me and it is gratifying when my portion is accepted; it means I am returning to normality. Little by little I am regaining a sense of what it is like to enjoy food and that comparing what I have in a competitive manner is pointless. I should eat what I enjoy and not what I think has the least calories. In time I am adamant to be able to do so.

Pounds in Change

Change. We each have the capability to alter ourselves but whether or not the amendments have positive or negative consequences is left to the significance and motive behind this need to change. Many believe that people are not competent enough to change; who we are within and the principles we were brought up with remain eternally with us due to an impossibility to ‘unlearn’ behaviours. It is only with this attitude however that we set ourselves limits, as any deviance from our expected personality would seem false and therefore deemed both pointless and consequentially too much effort- It isn’t ‘us’ and so we settle with a comfortable side to our personalities. I have found that there is a particular notion that if someone has previously committed an act judged to be inappropriate by today’s society, then we are unwilling to forgive them and accept that they will not do it again. I guess it must be a human instinct to be wary of things we consider to have formerly hurt us and so in a bid for survival we are doubtful of their trustworthiness. But we CAN change and for that reason we are all responsible for not holding someone’s past against them. In accepting a change in someone else we must henceforth change our own perceptions of this person. Communication between two parties will break down should there be a conflict between a belief that an alteration in someone has occurred. It is often a sense of denial and the want to hold on to positive memories that we turn a blind eye to changes. I do not doubt the ability to change (be it for the better or for the worse), as varied experiences impacted throughout our lives have the ability to revolutionise our way of thinking and subsequently our comportment. The turbulence I was made to endure over this past year has modified something within me, no matter the insistence that I am still the person I was before the Anorexia. I cannot deny that these changes have been somewhat positive in their own way.    

What has come as a revelation to me is that I always require some sort of strict regime in my life to feel at ease and therefore when it is not thrust upon me from authority, I seek this solace from other aspects around me. Up until very recently I have now realised that I had begun to use my blog as an obligation I must abide to every week. With a lack of rigidity over the year after having left school, I felt reassured by the comforting familiarity of having something I had to work towards- with recovery not being in the vicinity, a weekly writing target kept me on my toes. Though I no longer control my calorie intake to the extent I had, my need for control shifted to trivialities. What has hence scared me most is the idea that I will never be rid of this necessity to always have a notion of jurisdiction over something or other. Will I be doomed to feel my life has no direction or purpose if I do not comply with a regime? The fear of the unknown has always pushed me towards control, as the uncertainty that lies in my future seems more bearable if I have a hold of where it is heading. I would never have described myself as a ‘free spirit’, yet over the past months when I have challenged myself to override the Anorexia, I have relished in the feeling of liberation. It has led to an acceptance in the fact that my future is not set out for me and that I can alter it along the way and be spontaneous.

The question I have begun to more frequently ask myself is at what point is someone considered to have recovered from Anorexia. The physical recovery is one thing and seems somewhat superficial to that of the one that must occur within the mind, as an entire new mentality is required. I fell into Anorexia fairly easily, slipping into the comforting ritual of controlling and planning everything I was to eat with ease and delight. Giving up something that gives you such a semblance of joy is so difficult that you, the sufferer, are the sole decider of when you decide to take hold of the disorder and fight back. You can chose to reign it in quickly at the first signs or you could chose to fight it later, one thing that is certain is that it will not merely run its course and leave you as quickly and easily as it was adopted. A previously weak-minded person susceptible to being influenced by those around me with the desire to please, I had to transform myself into a fighter- something I was not born into.

The disorder parades itself so openly with the sickly skeletal appearance of its sufferers. I was always very aware of this fact as I watched myself literally waste away before my very eyes and especially when I received the intrusive stares in public. Though I was secretly satisfied at watching the numbers plummet on the scales, the physical translation of what this decent into hell meant was extremely distressing; I wanted to see a miniscule number on the scales but not a miniscule me in the mirror. More recently I have been told that although I am still clearly at a low BMI, I do not look like what many would selfishly dub as ‘Anorexic’. I wondered whether this was purely down to them having gotten used to seeing me so rail thin or whether to others I genuinely portrayed a healthier and fuller figure. The undeniable figure change is a physical sign that I am in recovery, but even when I eventually reach my target weight (to which I am currently just less than 7Kg away from in an estimate of 10 weeks should I continue at the pace I have been restoring) will I be considered recovered? I think not. The mind takes far longer to heal than any physical symptom and therefore I must have the patience to continue to fight even when the scales reveal that I am ‘healthy’.

As I began to list my changes that I would blame on the Anorexia, I realised that the negative ones were simply an intensification of traits I have always possessed; my obsessive need for control, independence, organised rituals and most importantly, success. Does it mean that the changes were not in my personality but my environment? Is it just the world around me and how I fitted into it and adapted myself to it by dulling down some of my qualities whilst amplifying others? No. I believe I have developed a certain courage I had once lacked within myself. I am strong. I am worthy. I can achieve. As a result I have been forced into maturity as anyone must when faced with fighting such a disorder or illness, whilst accepting that I can admit to needing help and not shying away from it when it is offered. My relationships have changed and mainly for the better as I have learnt that I can depend on others around me. I am not alone.

‘A leopard cannot change its spots’ the saying goes, yet this is both a naïve and pessimistic way to judge people. Yes a leopard will always have the same spots inked over its body very much like we will always have a past that we cannot erase, but we should all be given the opportunity to redeem ourselves. I will always have suffered from Anorexia but I will not always be Anorexic. Just take a look at the transition between my first posts and my more recent ones. I have been strong enough to fight for my chance to return to the person I used to be and wipe away the façade the disorder created. Though I am now certain I will continue with my struggle to win, this year will undeniably have left its imprint on me; the experience has caused irrevocable changes. I very much wish at this point in time that I could believe I might one day be able to pick a meal completely care-free of its calorie content as I once did, but my now extensive knowledge of calorie densities will always cause me to think twice before doing so. I have been so open about my plight that even if I now chose to blot out the year, my mind will always drudge up the memory and I won’t be able to lie to myself about how I became the person I am now as a result. Like a chameleon I could blend into the surrounding environment wherever I go-hiding-, yet I will always be the same person who has suffered through an eating disorder; I am not ashamed of having suffered from Anorexia, as I have been fighting my way out of it. I hope to inspire others to make the change for themselves by delivering first-hand the proof of what recovery could eventually bring to a person, yet not fool them into believing it will be easy. Most importantly I hope to change the views that society has on those that have suffered like me from an eating disorder.

Heavyng Myself Forward

Peace. Reaching a state whereby there is no longer any conflict is a somewhat idealistic notion due to the odds of there consistently being mutual agreements between each individual being classified statistically impossible. However, setting the bar for a lower standard of serenity can be achievable if not equally as satisfying. I am of course referring to the luxury of peace of mind. We all aspire to remain at a level of contentment, where envying those we feel are more fortunate than us is a far off nuisance we are beyond fretting about. Though some will claim they have attained this desired state and believe they live comfortably free of dispute, an occasion will inevitably arise where we must debate with ourselves whether we are making the right decisions to maintain our morality. We have been graced with freewill and therefore it is our right to make our own choices. Hence, we will cope with weighing up differing choices. Yet what happens when a conflicting voice such as Anorexia enters the scenario? The introduction of what we might see as a ‘third party’ can disrupt the tranquillity we have built up and our choices no longer become our own, as we are forced into not simply acknowledging but conforming to the masochistic views of the Anorexia. Our desires are left to rot under the new regime the disorder has created, yet as with any war a rebellion can be staged by bitterly fighting to push out the invader; what little hope and glimmer of our former selves that remains is enough with adequate support. Anorexia will not cave unless it is confronted; combatting harder when threatened and so a battle within the ruptured mind must ensue in order to expel it from your conscience. Whilst waging the war against this brute, I have become far more resilient and stronger than I ever was before. If I was forced into admitting that Anorexia has served a purpose whilst leaving me with a positive outcome then it would be that of no longer being so weak as to succumbing to an eating disorder to cope with stress.

In divulging so honestly my experience with an eating disorder, I demolished my protective barrier and left myself open to be criticised and therefore hurt by those reading what I had to say. I never really stopped to contemplate what my sincerity could lead to and that people with whom I had previously socialised with would be initiated into the inner working of my troubled mind.  Though I have undeniably had very positive feedback along the way, only the supportive comments have been available and open to me publically. This leaves me with the paranoid question of, what are those who might ridicule my writing saying without my knowledge. I haven’t previously had reason to deliberate over the integrity of my readers, as I have valued their wholesome support with relish. Yet, a misunderstanding that took place this past week whereby the comments I have received for my work had been mimicked and mocked by an acquaintance, made me wonder whether this was a single case. I took the scorning very personally and was initially hurt that someone could make a joke out of such a tender subject. I am not against a difference of opinion, but when it comes down to sheer mockery, I do not believe there is really any moral reasoning behind it. I chose to rise above the ignorance portrayed on the subject and it served to make me more determined to get my point across that Anorexia is not a joke nor a mere cry for attention.

Having been back from my holiday for over a week now, I have truly been able to reap the benefits of what a few days away from my turbulent life have been able to achieve. Previously stating that there is no overnight change in the way an Anorexia sufferer will think or perceive food still holds true, as recovery is a slow process not made through spontaneous decisions. However, what I had failed to experience up until now is how much completely disrupting a daily routine can alter the way you subsequently carry out your life. I was literally thrown into the deep end, with no time to dip in my toes lightly before taking the plunge. I went from knowing more or less how many calories I consumed a day and keeping track of it in my food diary, to having no clue or even a desire to know the ‘absurd’ amount of calories that were surging through my body over the holiday. In coming back I have abandoned my food diary, feeling that I no longer have a use for it, as I am confident I am attaining a healthy level of nutrition (if not going beyond, translated through my continued successful weight restoration). My diary was like a holy grail to me, as it provided a comfort in the notion of control and relieved me of the stress of not knowing what I was going to eat throughout the day, as each meal including snacks were planned a week in advance. This has been a huge step for me, as the knowledge of my daily calorie consumption has been my comfort blanket for the past year but I feel bare without it but far more mature that I can now handle my own daily nutrition.

A subsequent result of ditching the rigid control I had over the food I was to eat throughout the day has enabled me to relinquish my stubborn need to weigh everything including my morning apple juice and fruit; this is undoubtedly a further encouraging step towards my freedom. I have even been able to eat my mum’s own vinaigrette salad-dressing, which is rich in olive oil. Constantly deliberating over my next meal and when it will be used to govern my social life and every task I was to partake in would HAVE to be in sync with my specific eating patterns as well as factor in the length of time it would take me to finish a meal. Over the past couple of weeks, though I still prefer to take my time when I eat, as I feel force-fed and gluttonous if I was to ‘shovel’ my food down my throat, I have accepted to try a different eating schedule. Instead of a soup for lunch and a larger meal at dinner, I have managed to consume two regular meals consisting of similar portions to that of the rest of my family. I have even set myself the task of eating deserts, which would have been unheard of before going to Florida. I will admit to having overwhelming cravings for these decadent treats before my holiday, but the joy I received from resisting them far out-weighed the guilt I would inevitably be forced to endure should I have succumbed. It took the change of environment to nudge me in the right direction. In a different country you are introduced to foods that are not readily available to you back home and therefore it is almost like a duty to try them whilst you still can. You only live once. A liberated person would try it spontaneously without thinking; I on the other hand had to psyche myself up to beat the Anorexic thoughts before indulging. I must remember deserts are a treat and not an enemy purely there to clog up your arteries and make you appear weak and void of any willpower- if anything they can do nothing but good for me at my current weight. I need not have a desert every day, but should I want one I must learn not refrain due to fear or most importantly the Anorexia’s delight.

My mind is still not inhabited by me alone. The Anorexia though feeble is infuriatingly tenacious and despite the many warnings that the Anorexia might never leave me be, I hope with my entire being to obliterate it. Even if I am offered to try a spoonful of food or merely dip my finger in to taste, the Anorexia will still count it as a calorie allowance I have exhausted and so it is something I abstain myself from. It is frustrating not to be able to act normally and eat things without it having been premeditated beforehand; I want to drive out the grating voice that tells me I do not deserve to indulge and makes me feel weak if I do. The amount of congratulations I received after my revelations last week was surprising, however being told not to fear my progress and being encouraged to do it again made me feel somewhat pressurised. I do not want to disappoint others or myself if I am unable to follow through with what I am believed to be capable of now achieving. I am still restricting myself on the condiments bread and cheese- these having been the first to go. I do aim to one day eat bread with enjoyment again and eventually accept the idea of cheese, though I do not think cheese will ever become part of my daily diet again- it may seem like a shame but it is a compromise I think I will have to make in my recovery. I will continue to fight the Anorexia, in no way am I going to accept it still having a place in my mind even if it is to be locked away tightly. I am slowly phasing the voice out and becoming more accomplished at ignoring it but I will not stop until it has gone.