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.

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.

My darling Miss Binns

This post is dedicated to one of the very few positive influences anorexia has had on my life. 

Had we not have been thrown together by the demonic, veracious grip of our eating disorders she wouldn't have aided me in the saving of my health and rescuing of my self. 

I remember first meeting Miss Binns at the taster session for our intensive Multi group family therapy course* we had been told to go to by our CAMHS** workers. At this point firmly in the grip if Anorexia I can remember thinking why the hell am I here? These girls are tiny I'm huge... Sitting in tears I saw a minuscule blonde girl walking looking absolutely petrified. I caught her eye and I can remember her just giving me this look which almost said, it's ok I'm scared to. Since first meeting her although I didn't speak to her for very long at that initial meeting we began texting. We texted all day everyday. For the first time someone understood, it was such a relief to be getting such amazing support. I received endless encouraging text frequently reminding me why I was doing this, not to give up and tell me how beautiful I am. At fifteen Miss Binns had been through so much but was still going, she's incredibly brave, clever and not to mention beautiful. He's bloody hilarious and if it wasn't for her I think I'd be in a hospital somewhere frozen in the wrath of my eating disorder. She's fiercely determined to beat this and I'm in debt to her entirely.

My darling, you're beautiful and clever and amazing and I am blessed to know you! You deserve the fantastic life planned out for you and adore you. You can do this! Fuck gretel you need to go out partying! I'm stupendously proud of you for working so hard and studying so hard with your exams! You deserve to do incredibly well. 

I love you