how i did it

I was in a position six months ago, where at a dangerously low weight I believed that the only help that would benefit me would be psychological. I was under the misconception that if i 'sorted my head out' everything else would fall into place (eating, weight, behaviors etc). Now I was told at the time by countless professionals that this was not true and that I would not benefit from any Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) or 'therapy' until my weight was restored to at least a BMI of 17.5.

One of the effects of being underweight and severely malnourished is that your brain, like the majority of other organs in my body begin to shut down. Your body prioritize the calories consumed for vital functions and apparently cognitive function is not one! I found it horrendously to comprehend this as at the time i thought i had the strength of an ox and was completely to capable of carrying out many complex mental processes. In hindsight, at a healthy, i use the term loosely, weight I realize how completely wrong i was, how little concentration i had, my thoughts tunneled into black and white thinking where I, or 'Irene', as My Anorexia is called was always  right and everyone else was out to get me. My day was completely consumed by calorie counting, baking, body checking and exercising yet i thought i had a fabulously busy day with fruitful baking sessions and fast paced walks.

I was weighed biweekly and saw the Urgent Help Service monthly. Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service refused me CBT as did a private therapist due to my low weight. Me and my parents were outraged at this point and we were just fed with the same line over and over 'she needs to eat more'. This infuriated me as it is just not that simple. However, it was a drizzly day in October, Urgent Help Service had just informed me that they were giving me until January to sort myself out and gain weight or they will remove all control.

Immediately Irene reared her ugly head and told me to do everything in my power to make it seem like i was trying. At this point i had no intention of gaining any weight yet three days later i was weighed and for the first time in 4 months had gained 0.1kg.

Realistically now in my logically assured state i am able to comprehend that it was not 'weight' in the form of fat it was most likely fluid, but this was monumental. I felt horrendous but at the same time the relief flooding over me of the fact that i had the option of choosing what to eat, when to challenge myself, how slow/fast to gain reassured me. I realized i would much rather slowly increase my weight giving my mind time to catch up as it is often said that your mind takes a lot longer to recuperate and recover than your body.

I gained very little amounts of weight to begin with but saw positive changes such as warmth, energy, sleep, less aching, more laughing. Now I'm not saying it was easy or that it would work for everyone, but for the moment and hopefully for the foreseeable future it will withstand the test of life. The weight gain, was and still is a struggle, but the more I filled my day with the more of a backseat Irene took. The nourishment in small doses coaxed me towards understanding that I would never be happy with the way I look, but the size of my body would not nor will it ever affect how stronger, better, beautifuller, (is that a word) person I am.

I'm not saying just eat. But I genuinely now as a person of experience that you cannot make an Anorexic want to gain weight until they have gained weight. I will live by that saying. It is all about choices, at some point yes, i was powerless to my anorexia, but it was about making choices to make changes.

I didn't want to change, but knew if i wanted to be as strong as Irene was saying i would be then i was going to have to defy her completely. I believe now and am willing to answer any questions or help anyone who needs it. I really feel like food is the medicine, then the therapy is the rehabilitation as you gradually gain health and strength. I also still completely agree that there should be more help for people with Eating Disorders and food and nutrition guidance should coincide. But hay, that's an ideal world. I'm also going to make a disclaimer, I am not advising anyone to take my word as gospel, or medical advice. Do not just discharge yourself if you are receiving help, you are very lucky - appreciate it. I took every oppurtunity for help thrown at me, i participated in weight restoration planning, anxiety disorder groups, had the Family Eating Disorder Service, Urgent Help Service, Psychiatry, Medication, Meal Planning, Family Therapy, Group Family Therapy. Go out, get a job, enjoy life - happiness is the best medicine.

to all of you

As a teenage girl in modern society there is so many pressures. To be cool, to be pretty, to be normal, to excel academically, to be on trend, to be rich, to be funny, to thin, to be normal - that i think we often lose touch of what is most important. To be all of these things would be a betrayal to yourself, being all of these thing wont make you popular or a better person and they certainly wont make you happy. Happiness comes from freedom, from excitement, from spontaneity, from being a little bit different, from laughing all day, to going for an ice-cream straight after a huge lunch or running around in some dorky clothes because you really do not care. A happy girl is a beautiful one.

Make-up will not make you happy, being size zero certainly won't. Wearing the same clothes as everyone else, liking the same bands wont. Studying extra math to please your parents and teachers even though you despise it and would rather be doing art wont make you happy. Not having a slice of cake when you so desperately long for the creaminess of the butter cream, simply because the girls at school say its important to watch your weight won't make you happy. Dieting wont make you perfect. Nor will it impress him. A hilarious joke or quirky fashion sense with a sparkle in your eye will. Wearing the wrong shirt, not liking the same shops isn't a reason to drag a blade across your skin as punishment, it is a reason to embrace your differences.

Dancing round the room crazily to a silly song, licking the bowl of cake mixture when baking, rolling around on the grass in an old sweater and silly shorts, having the odd hair out of place, a few freckles, a curve instead of a concave, the odd scar or two of what you've overcome is the strength and happiness that defines beauty. To be able to stand up proudly, dust yourself off, survive a hilarious trip in the corridor at school and still be able to shout i am who i am whilst dancing around the room to 'girls just want to have fun' is real happiness.

The scars you hide beneath are nothing to be ashamed of, they are the struggles you've overcome, or the suffering you may be going through. It makes you no less beautiful, quit conforming. No amount of 'ordinary' will make you happy. Its too boring

a letter to an ex-frien

I'm having mixed feelings at the present. Whilst I'm becoming more and more flexible with my food I'm struggling to come to terms that i will need to let go of my eating disorder. My crutch, my coping mechanism, my friend, my best friend. My anorexia over the past two years although not always for good reasons has been there, it became personified and she was always there for me to rely. So anorexia this one is for you.

Dearest Ana,
You've been in my life two years now. You were there from the moment I got up to the moment i fell asleep, often joining me in sleep to. You were often my only Allie, the only one who understood. When i wasn't in control, when i was stressed or everything was getting on top of me you made me believe i was winning. You made me believe that i could overcome my issues and problems by not eating and having you on my side. You promised me I'd be happier if i was pretty and things would be easier if i was thinner. These promises you could keep, you lied to me. But as the weight dropped off I became more and more miserable. You left me a shadow of my former self, a skeletal frail little girl. You nearly killed me Ana, I was dying.

When i had no where else to turn you were there and i suppose i thank you for that. When i was unhappy you made me feel heard. You made me feel wanted but at the same time worthless so i became more determined to please you. You've made me more resilient and if it wasn't for you being so bloody pushy i wouldn't be so successful in ridding myself of you.

You taunted me with words of hatred, telling me i was useless, worthless and undeserving, yet somehow for some reason i warmed to you. You warped and twisted my brain into believing you would help me. I was so tired Ana, so hungry. You made me feel stupid, ugly and sorry. I didn't need to be sorry, so Ana I'm writing this to you, I've written such things many times before but this is for real this time. Ana, i don't need you anymore, we are no longer friends.

I am a stronger person now, perhaps i have you to thank for that. I no longer have the hunger for control. I'm not happy with my body, then again who is? However, i do not need to punish myself for this, for this is who i am. Ana i am in control of my life, if i can't cope i can ask for help. It does not mean I'm weak. By not eating i do not make myself a better person, for my weight does not and never has nor will define my worth. I am beginning to like myself Ana, can you believe it? I put myself down for so long, i bet you never thought I'd see the day. Ana you are no longer wanted, i will enjoy my meals and live my life free of your grasp. I no longer want to be dictated by you and the numbers on a scale or calorie counter.

Nothing tastes as good as thing feels Ana? Wrong thin feels tired, painful and weak and bannoffee pie is divine. Fat is bad? Legs together thighs apart? No Ana, i was not built that way, when i was that small my bones dug into my mattress and i felt a cold that I'd never felt. I felt it right deep into my bones, now i feel full of energy and life. Ana you've dominated my life for far too long, you've lied to me and tricked me into believing i was worthless. You made me feel in control but really you had captured me and dulled me down. I don't need you Ana, you are nothing.

My Favourite

The favourite, something we all want to be. The favourite is the most loved, popular and preferred. Aren’t they?

Favourite - ‘a person or thing that is preferred to all others of the same kind or is especially well liked.’ – Oxford Online English Dictionary 2012. After reading this and thinking about something that I would consider ‘My favourite’, I found it hard all of a sudden to decide. Writing about my favourite person for example; ‘a person that I prefer to all others of the same kind’ - Oxford Online English Dictionary 2012, would prove an almost impossible task. How on earth would I be able to find a person of the same kind as someone else? How do you separate people into ‘kinds’? Does that mean putting people into categories?

The noun ‘kind’ ‘a group of people or things having similar characteristics’ - Oxford Online English Dictionary 2012, led me no closer to a conclusion. However, it was something on the same page, ‘one’s own kind’ (people with whom one has a great deal in common’ - Oxford Online English Dictionary 2012) that I found most interesting. Surely if you were to use this in conversation it would be suggesting that you were better than someone else or that you would not mix with someone who was different to you. If I do not stand corrected that is borderline racism.  When you think of the expression ‘someone’s kind’, for example ‘I don’t apologise to her kind’ it is always used to express disapproval towards a certain type of person. The use of the word ‘type’ is similar to ‘brand’. We ‘brand’ objects, a popular ‘brand’ of ketchup. I’m not sure I would want to be branded. Suddenly, people have become objects. Maybe it isn’t always such a coveted position to be ‘the favourite’.

Favouritism for instance, ‘the practice of giving unfair preferential treatment to one person or group at the expense of another’ - Oxford Online English Dictionary 2012 as children and even as adults we resent the subjects of favouritism. When someone is receiving preferential treatment you begin to question your significance. Why are you not preferred? We strive to be the favourite, be it for our own egos, for the feeling of being the chosen one or even to feel wanted.

Being the favourite comes with the pressure to remain the favourite. It becomes difficult to understand, in an instance where you are treated the same as everyone else, why are you not being favoured? The need to remain the favourite means conforming to someone else’s preferences. Do you lose your own identity?

Perhaps to be the favourite is not always best? When stopping to consider someone else’s feelings, is it better to all be equal? Perhaps, picking a favourite should be kept to objects rather than objectifying humans. The importance of equality is always being expressed yet surely we are discriminating against someone else by saying we prefer them to someone else? Its better surely to be the person you prefer to be, than be preferred most to someone else.  From experience this only creates a false relationship with someone.

Coping with stress and trying to concentrate.

At my almost target weight I am the heaviest ive been in over 18 months, I eat more than I have in over 2 years, I have more energy; so why am i not better yet? I feel like im stuck, in a limbo between the healthiness of my body and the instability of my mind. I'm nearing my college deadline but all i can focus my attention on is calories, food and calories. Did I say calories twice?

Why is it that it is only once your better you really are able to notice how much you've royally fucked up your body (apologies for the language but there is no other term for it), I am grateful for the perks oif recovery and i can honestly reassure you that it is heaps better than being consumed in a warped world of your eating disorder but my god, its tough.

At a critically low BMI i felt strong, like i could take on the world, that there was absolutely nothing wrong with my concentration, that i was the best. I obviously am aware that that is not true, but here I am a 'healthy weight' i have no excuse to be 'struggling' yet I'm sitting here correcting the fact I've written 'hear' not 'here'. I know full well i am overly critical, but there is no reason to not be able to concentrate now, i am no longer malnourished ir starved, so why am i so distracted and pre-occupied all the time.

Bank Holiday Monday

As a child i can remember the anticipation i felt in the days prior to a bank holiday, as i relished in the thought of an extra day off. Now at 18 I dread a day of work in a busy cafe full of rude impatient old age pensioners eagerly awaiting an afternoon cream tea. Not even time and a half is enough to deter my angst towards the thought of screaming children and upper class Londoner's seeking solace from the busy city streets only to find themselves knee deep in foreign students with manners almost appalling as their's.

I can remember being desperate to grow up and gain independence and earn money; yet now as i consummate a fair quantity of money and am finally able to drive, i find myself longing for the carefree days of my preteens. Where my biggest worry was who i was going to sit next to on the coach on a forthcoming school trip or what i was going to wear for mufti day. I find myself faced with somewhat substantial life changing decisions such as university and foremost which path i choose to take my life, whilst I cant even make a small change to the amount of milk i have with breakfast. I am faced with an impending feeling of doom that this will last forever.

It is while writing this that I am telling myself that i am the author of this here life and coinciding with this it is my choices that decide how i am controlled by my eating disorder. Making decisions ultimately that now may go against my better nature may petrify me profusely will do me a greater deal of good in the long run. For if i was to deny myself the mere grape i have been craving or the slice of fruitcake ive been looking at for so long i would remain stuck still in the depths of the portentous demon in my mind. For if i want to be free you must push yourself. Break the barriers and habits formed. I don't want to fear the unknown i want to relish it, the spontaneity of life. I want to be 65 and at the drop of a hat deciding to go sky diving, because i coud afford it, was healthy enough and because I wanted too. I want to look forward to the buzz of a busy workplace on bank holiday Monday, share the excitement of children as they enter the cafe ready for ice cream and cake. I want to be able to sit with my children and eat cake and ice cream with them and savour the taste both. The time is now for me to escape anorexia, im over being controlled by the alarming desire for perfection.

It is not in the still calm of life, or the repose of a pacific station, that great characters are formed. The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. -Abigail Adams

too many posts, spoil a blog?

Much the same as 'too many cooks spoil the broth' I am plagued by the idea that if i am posting too many posts people may find me irritating, there are just so many things i wish to write. So many experiences and lessons that i've learnt and wish to share. But for fear of scaring you all away im disheartened to be a frequent blogger. ive tried to stick with a post a day but already i have completely infringed this original stratagem. So as follows this post there will be another, my apologies.

There's a time and a place to die

As I lay here in bed at 9:46 after a hell of a day, exhausted and aching from working all day I am reflecting on the past year or so of my life. It was approximately a year ago I was doing the same but with much a contrasting view on things.

This time last year I was nearing the end of my first full year of full blown anorexia. If I was to tell you all about my anorexia in this first post, not only would I bore you and scare you off but I'd have very little else to write about. I can remember spending my nights laying in bed calculating how much I'd allow myself to eat (or not eat as the case was, more often than not) before I fell asleep as I tumbled down a perilous path of self destruct with the ultimate goal of disappearing completely. I wanted nothing more but to starve, be thin or die and thinking over that now I am really saddened at how miserable I was. As I lay here now I am suddenly thankful at my failure to kill myself. I have realised now that the fact my body did not give up on me, besides being nothing short of a miracle, was also because there is a time and a place to die. There was a reason, however significant, for me to stick around. This journey has taught and is teaching me to appreciate that everything happens for a reason, what will be will be and that you cannot mess with fate. We do not and cannot choose where our life ends, we may miss out on the amazing oppurtunities that have been planned out for us. The lessons learnt and tests we face on the journey to love ourselves are mere setbacks in the saga of our lives. Giving up is not an option, for it is out of our hands. There is no telling what is around the corner but accepting that nothing is perfect as things are always changing and it is acceptance that we must seek as opposed to flawless immaculacy. Our lives have been bestowed upon us with such a responsibility to go out and live them as we are the lucky ones, some do not get given a life. We must embrace our life as we have a purpose to live as full, happy, enjoyable, hectic and crazy life as possible. Embrace the immaculacy, the craziness, the hurt, emotion and beautifulness. Accept the flaws and do everything to strive to be you and not conform as tomorrow is a Monday. A new week. A new start. Save your own life. Sometimes you're the only person who can.

Concluding this possibly a little bit pretentious rant, I'm not fixed but I'm on the road to greater happiness and I cannot wait for my next challenge.