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.

Survival of the Fittest

Survival. In Darwinian terms, those fittest for survival, endure the many tests thrown at them and go on to exist. Survival is a necessary human instinct and the one that drives us to run away in face of danger. However, what happens when the only option is to head forwards amidst the perils? Will only the strongest survive, or do we each have the capability to fight our way through and ultimately end up safely on the other side? No one can lead a meaningful existence by continuously bypassing threats and no one has been able to do so no matter how confident they may appear on the outside. The risks involved in the challenge are what lead us to shy away from the fight but we must stop acting vulnerable and believe that we are strong enough to survive. Anorexia turns your life upside down and your priorities shift. No longer is it essential for your body to persist, but more for your Anorexia to thrive within your mind. Having once dreamed of making something of my life and going to university, suddenly my entire existence was reliant on how many calories I was eating and whether I was consuming too much. Over the year I watched my body perish and the dreams went away with it too. I would have never envisaged myself where I am now. One year on fighting and surviving against Anorexia.

My move to university has been one that has irreversibly changed me for the better. Of course I was worried about how I would cope in such a different environment surrounded by people I did not know and who had the capability to judge my past. Away from home, I would encounter a huge test in having to cook and ascertain regular portions for myself without being under the watchful eye of my reassuring parents; I would have complete control. In that way I was determined to prove my inner strength and not to let the Anorexia overwhelm me once more, as I am still aware of its persistent presence. Without the satisfaction of knowing that I have fully beaten it, what would a drastic change in environment and an eruption of emotions cause? It is understandable for me to have felt concerned in this way, yet I should learn to trust in my ability to retain self-control. But, being conscious of the fact that my disorder arose when I was last studying, I had no idea what a return to education would entail.

Like any normal student I was worried about the cliché of not making friends, yet my fear was further spiked with my eating disorder history. Having ‘paraded’ my eating disorder for a year through my former skeletal appearance, I had gotten used to just assuming that people knew I was ill. However, my weight restoration so far is such that I merely look slim and it is not immediately apparent how much I have suffered. This posed a dilemma; do I reveal I am recovering from Anorexia to people I have only just met? Or do I keep this a secret? The thought had not even crossed my mind until I was faced with admission, as prior to this I had never been ashamed of how I fought my way out of the disorder. It is a very personal thing to admit to having suffered from a mental disorder, simply because I am aware of just how naïve people can be about it and I was embarrassed by the thought that people would believe I was just one of ‘those girls’ who wanted to be thin. I am not and never will be. It is natural for people to start off a friendship with small talk and asking questions, the most common one being ‘what did you do in your gap year?’. It is at this point that I can either admit to having taken the year out to recover or produce a vague white lie that I worked to ‘gain money’. It has never been my intention to keep my Anorexia hidden, but at what point is it appropriate to introduce it into a new friendship without making them run away or let it distinguish you as a person. At what cost would my revelation come?

The toughest aspect for me has been adaptation. I used to have such a strict regime as to when I would eat lunch, when I would have my snack and how long afterwards I would have my dinner, yet I have had to become much more flexible and drop the rigidity I had developed. Not only would my schedule have my lectures to contend with, but I did not want to appear like a food freak in front of my new flat mates. Fortunately, I had befriended the girls over facebook prior to my move to Newcastle and each one was aware and extremely understanding of my Anorexia after I advised them to read my blog. I was immensely grateful for their reaction and I could not have hoped to share a flat with better people; I felt safe going to university. I was more apprehensive revealing it to the boys, whom I was unsure as to how they would react, so of course, it was revealed on a drunken night during Freshers Week. I do not regret them all knowing as it was inevitable for them to find out but the way in which they each maturely handled the information was touching. I’m glad that I have got it out of the way with them and we can formulate close friendships on the basis of trust and I would be comfortable going to them with any issues I felt I was having regarding my eating habits. I am in safe hands and I only really have them to thank for this security.

Drinking alcohol was always going to be a grey area in my mind. After being tee-total for an entire year at the fear of the ‘unnecessary’ empty calories in such beverages, I was not sure how I would fair drinking socially. It is a big part of university in my mind although it is not essential to have a good time and make friends. I did not however, want to have to limit myself from something I would have had no second thoughts of consuming before I was ill and so I decided that it would be the least of my concerns. I did of course have to be mindful of my limits now that I was at a much lower body weight and had a low tolerance following the abstinence. Not once did I feel pressurised to drink more than I should or wanted to, which meant that my flat mates and I were all on the same level and we could all respect one-another. Without a second thought, I have managed to drink wine and have spirits mixed with full fat energy drinks. This would have been impossible for me a couple of months ago. I am more relaxed and there is a noticeable change within me.

Now that food and strict weight restoration is no longer my biggest concern, it is bizarre to notice just how much my eating habits have evolved. I no longer need to take an entire hour to eat a soup, yogurt and fruit and I vary my diet a lot more, albeit being a student with a meagre budget. But, I am blessed with two amazing parents who will ensure that I will always have enough food to keep me healthy. It has been hard to stick to my guns and eat three regular meals a day when others around me could skip meals with no harm to themselves, but I finally realise the necessity of providing my body with enough energy now that I am more active if I am to survive at university and thrive. I have the potential to do well and I cannot let it be jeopardised once again by my foolish inability to feed myself correctly.

I have not felt attractive in ever so long due to what I can only describe as my skin and bone appearance. I was a long way past being merely chiselled, so who would find my horrifying carcass look appealing? It was a novelty therefore, to arrive in this new environment only finally looking relatively healthy and find that I was in fact somewhat pleasant to look at. I am used to being looked at in a shocked and disgusted way and in a way, I expect people to still react in that way; who can forget the judgemental and unabashed stares I received from passers-by and so it was strange to receive appreciative looks. Since being here, I have left behind the shy girl who would isolate herself in her room and shy away from any attention. I am finally finding myself again. Solene survived despite the invasion of the Anorexia and has come out stronger. I am in control, but in a healthy way by directing my future towards a prosperous one. I have new friends and undoubtedly new hurdles to overcome up ahead but they do not frighten me; I fight for my survival.