A final goodbye

I am completely hopeless at saying a final goodbye there will be tears - lots of them, but ultimately it is time for me to say goodbye to ana.

I know many of you will be wondering why it's taken me so long to come to this realisation, but leaving a piece of you behind is hard. Ana has been there for the incredible highs and lows that has been my life over the last 2 years. Whilst she has been the worst part of my life, in some says she has also been the best. There is no doubt in my mind that I would be a completely different person today had ana not decided to attach herself to me again.

Don't get me wrong I have not, nor will I ever, consider ana to be a friend. Friends don't destroy each other, they don't whisper negative thoughts, they don't sit by and celebrate as your life slowly disintegrates around you. It may be hard for others to understand, but ana has been a part of my identity for such a long time that closing this chapter is hard. 

I don't want to spend the rest of my life with ana, I am aware she may well show herself every now and again but I don't want her to define me anymore.

Is closing the book going to be hard? You bet your life it is. Even writing this I can feel her clutching at me, desperately trying to claim what she believes is rightly hers. I don't want my life to be dictated by calories and safe food. I want to explore the world I live in without restrictions. 

With a clear head and a happy heart I bid farewell to ana, I am ready to move forwards, to embrace life.

I deserve

I deserve breakfast. I deserve to enjoy food. I deserve to be able to look in the mirror and like what I see. I deserve ice cream and fudge and the other goodies I have so ruthlessly cut out. I deserve to be happy. I deserve a future. 

Reminder

And being proud of myself is nothing to be ashamed of.

Crushing Disappointment

Well today was supposed to be THE day, I had eagerly booked a doctors appointment for a prescription  review and to see how I was doing with my recovery. I woke up early, eager to get to the appointment, I was already planning how I was going to celebrate, thats how certain I was that everything was going to go my way.

It didn't.

I had already resigned myself to the fact the my medication probably wasn't going to be reduced - next Thursday marks the end of the current round of treatment, plus March is gearing up to be a pretty hectic month for me - but I think if i'm being honest that I was still hoping for some sort of reduction. I'm lucky, my GP is fantastic at cutting through the BS she saw straight away that I was worrying and after a discussion we decided to make another appointment for a months time where I am reassured that my medication will be reduced slightly.

I was also hoping for some sort of improvement with the ED, sure I know that my head isn't in the right place yet but I am working ridiculously hard to get myself there. I've come to accept that food will probably always be a problem for me. I battle every day to get myself to eat something, enough to hit that magic calorie intake, yes sometimes I fail (more often than not if i'm being completely honest) but I try I try so hard. So it was a huge shock to me to discover that not only have I not put on any weight but I've actually managed to lose some. I cannot tell you just how disappointed I am with myself, it feels as if all my hard work has been in vain. What is the point in trying so hard if I am not going to see any results at the end? I can't spend the rest of my life fighting a losing battle.

I've cried  A LOT. I am annoyed and angry with myself, I have questioned every food related decision I have made, then I've cried some more. I am not ready to give up just yet. I am not prepared to just roll over and let this shitty illness keep me from living the rest of my life. Sure today I took a massive step backwards, but I'm not going to let myself wallow in self pity, I have too much to live for. I've given myself too many allowances from now on it's time to get tough.

My Path

This week is Eating Disorder Awareness Week throughout my recovery I have strived to support and help as many people as I possibly can whilst raising awareness for EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified). I have written a lot about my recovery but I don't think I have written about how I got to this point in my life.

I wasn't born hating my body, I was an active child, I loved running, jumping, dancing, exploring etc... I loved what my body could do, I loved ballet class and playing sports, I don't think I was aware of what 'fat' or 'thin' was. I cannot remember my body ever being criticised by anyone and up until the age of 11 I was lucky enough to never have been bullied. Life changed for me when I went to Secondary School, I already knew by this point that my life would revolve around dance, I was academic and loved to learn which unfortunately meant I was bullied. I was teased for my love of dance, for the fact that I would often miss events due to a dance class, my hair was never right, nor was my make up and for the first time I was aware of body, or more importantly the lack of development. Girls around me were growing boobs, starting periods and beginning to date boys, I often felt left behind and couldn't join in conversations about periods and bras as I wasn't there yet. Don't get me wrong I was lucky to have amazing friends who I laughed constantly with and who made my school days happy despite the internal upset. It was at this point that I started to restrict food, I thought I was being clever and that I was hiding it well, luckily I wasn't - my mom sat me down and explained to me that food was fuel that unless I started eating more I would be unable to carry on dancing, at the time this was enough to push me back onto the right path. I stopped restricting food but I did develop a new habit at the time it didn't have a name but now it is known as 'chew and spit', I got to satisfy my desire for sweets without actually having to digest them. This stopped almost as quickly as it began and I settled back into an easy relationship with food.

Through therapy I have discovered that that last sentence is in fact a lie, whenever life has been difficult for me I have punished myself with food, at times I wanted to be invisible, I didn't share my thoughts and feelings with anyone around me as I was scared of being judged. I think I always knew I had a problem but instead of confronting it I kept it a secret, one hidden away in the very depths of my being. In the months leading up to my wedding I was proud of myself for not being a bride on a diet, for being able to keep myself in recovery. Yet this all changed when we went to the Maldives on our honeymoon - I stopped eating meat out there and became obsessed with where the food was from, how it was prepared and whether or not it was 'safe' to eat, all normal fear I hear you say, but for me the fear opened a box that had been locked away and forgotten about. Slowly but surely I let the eating disorder  back into my life, at first I didn't notice her until one day I woke up to discover she had effectively taken over. 

I'm not prepared to go into the ins and out of my descent into relapsing - I think it would be too triggering both for myself and others, but I do know that this relapse has been the worst one yet. I have been clawing my way out of the hole for some time and although I am nowhere near being recovered I know that I will get there one day.

As an EDNOS sufferer I don't fit the 'typical' picture of someone with an eating disorder, yes I am slim but not to the point that people would look at me an know instantly there is a problem. This is the part I have really struggled with, can I really have an eating disorder without the anorexic label? Through research and lots of detailed talks with my therapist I have realised that eating disorders are more of a mental issue than I ever realised - the problem isn't with my body, its with my mind, the way it alters my belief system about food, the way is messes with my reflection in the mirror. Recovery is about addressing everything, not just the food issues.

Everyday I have to remind myself that the ED voice is a lie, she wants me to punish myself, she wants me to be invisible, but I won't let her. I know I am strong enough to fight, strong enough to recover and hopefully strong enough to be able to inspire others.

End of the road?

Tomorrow is my last eating disorder therapy session, does this mean I am recovered, absolutely not! This week I've been particularly bad, whilst I don't want to disclose numbers I know I am surviving on less than half my recommend calorie intake. I'm terrified about what will happen once that support has disappeared, I've spoken to by GP and she has told me that if I need more help then I'll have to join a TWO YEAR waiting list - I'm not sure I can do that. Two years is an awfully long time to go with no professional support. I'm lucky that I have an incredible support network around me, people who are desperate for me to recover, yet that desperation worries me. In a therapy session I can be completely honest, spill out my darkest fears and talk candidly about my feelings, I just don't think that is possible with the people you love. I feel like I have a weight of expectation on my shoulders, not just my own hopes for recovery but also those of everyone who loves me.

I have been told daily that I am an inspiration, by complete strangers on twitter to friends, yet I feel I am living a lie. How can I be inspiring others to fight for recovery when I am doing so badly? How can others take my words and turn them into inspiration to eat when I cannot? What on earth is going to happen to me when I am on my own? Tomorrow will mark a big step forward for me, the biggest one I have taken on my recovery journey so far, and I am terrified about where I am going to end up.

Help

Dear Readers,

I never wanted this blog to become a place of negativity but today I desperately need to reach out for help. As you all know my path to recovery has been treacherous, I have great days and not so great days but I always know in my heart that I am heading in the right direction - however over the last few days I have felt myself losing a grip on reality and now I need help/advice on how to get myself back onto the right track.

Up until this point in my recovery I have been making steady process, sure I have been blinded with insecurity along the way but deep in my heart I have known that things are getting better. Now I have a new insecurity, one that has the potential to destroy me - I have developed a hatred for feeling full, whether that be from food or liquid. I hate the fullness, I hate how it makes me feel and I hate how much I detest myself for being full. I have to be honest and admit that there have been times where I have thought about purging the only reason that I haven't ventured down this path is because of my overwhelming fear of being sick, but the fact that the thought has popped into my mind absolutely terrifies me. I am scared that one day I won't be this strong, that the ED will override me and that I will succumb to this new demon.

So my question to you is how do I move forward form this point? How do I keep myself moving forward and ignore the new demon on my shoulder?

Realisation

A year ago I was out of control, my anxiety was gathering momentum and my eating was non existent, no one asked me what was wrong because no one knew - I had become an expert at painting a face on and pretending everything was ok. A year later, with my anxiety under control thanks to medication, I am able to reflect. Sure my husband being away didn't help, but that wasn't it. I spent my days teaching, talking to parents and children and menial topics, but they aren't my friends/family so I could hardly open up to them. I arrived home to a cold, dark, empty house during the week, often late at night so I would go straight to bed. I had no one to talk too and no one to reassure me that I was doing ok. Stupidly I didn't even tell Stuart what I was feeling because I didn't want him worrying when he was away.

Now I know that I need to talk, to vent my worries, my anger and frustration, it's ok to feel alone but it's not ok to let the anxiety win. I'm not yet in a place where my GP feels she can reduce my tablets, so I am aware that the way I'm feeling right now might not be 'me', but I'm well on the way to winning the fight. A year ago I never believed I would feel like this, who knows where I may be this time next year.

Disappointment

You know what's really hard - constantly feeling disappointed. I'm either disappointed with myself for eating or angry because I haven't eaten which leaves other people feeling disappointed. I am a people pleaser by nature, I very rarely say no and I will do everything in my power to make the people around me happy. I know they'd be ecstatic if I just ate normally, if I woke up one morning back to the old carefree Gemma, I hate that I'm struggling to do the one thing that would please them most. 

I recently had an argument with myself about this very blog, by sharing with you my battles I am inviting you into my life, very often I am overwhelmed by the support you give me and yet I am aware that you want me to get better, by writing here that I am struggling I somehow feel like I am letting you down too. The obvious answer is that I stop writing about the eating disorder but to me that seems like a lie, if I can't be completely true to myself here where can I be? Besides it feels like you guys have become my cheerleaders, you encourage me, support me and remind me constantly that I will get better. So this battle continues... 

The biggest disappointment I face is myself. I often find myself wondering how I ended up on the path - I have spent my whole life surrounded with love - I never dreamt that one day food would become my energy. I hate that I can't bring myself to prepare porridge (it's porridge for crying out loud) because the ED says it's bad but I am disappointed that her voice is winning. Man my brain is all kinds of messed up, it's no wonder that I feel so tired! 

I am in turmoil dear readers, to win this war I need to eat and continue to eat for the rest of my life, if I can't manage to eat one proper meal without feeling disappointed how can I get better? If I don't get better than how will I survive knowing I'll be disappointing all the people I hold near to my heart?

My words to live by right now. Thank you Martin Luther King Jr.

Inspire

Last night, whilst lying in bed not sleeping, I started thinking about the reasons why I blog. Yes it will be nice in the future to look back and see how far I have come and how much I developed as a person, yes I enjoy being able to write down my thoughts and feelings without fear of judgement, but much more than that I want to inspire someone. I want someone to read my jumbled up thoughts and realise that they are not alone, to know that I understand how they are feeling, for them to know that it is ok to reach out and ask for help. 

For a long time I felt alone, I thought I was alone, that no-one else could possibly understand how I felt, I mean I didn't understand so there was no way I could explain to someone else. My brain was a bunch of contradictions which I could not begin to fathom out. Even now - a year down the line, with a body pumped full of anti anxiety tablets and weekly therapy sessions to help me figure out what is going on - I still don't know how to unravel the thoughts in my head. I have discovered that it is ok to be scared, that it is ok to ask for help, thanks to twitter I have a network of support that I never believed could exist. Complete strangers send me messages to make sure I am ok, they reassure me when I am in the middle of a bad day and they are there to congratulate me when things go well, I have no words to express my thanks and gratitude to them but I will be eternally grateful for those kind strangers who have rescued me from myself.

So dear reader, you may be reading this because you have followed my blog from the start (thanks!!) or you may have stumbled across this post at a time when you feel alone, I want to tell you that you aren't, there are people out there who want to help, who will help and who won't judge no matter what you have to tell them. Remember what you have overcome in the past, the obstacles you have conquered and know that I BELIEVE IN YOU. I am nowhere near recovered but I am so much further along than I was a year ago, yes it is hard, yes there are days when I don't want to get out of bed, when I don't want to fight anymore, but I know that one day I will get there, you will too. Believe in yourself.

 

Tiptoe

I may not be taking big steps in the right direction yet but I am taking small baby steps towards a complete recovery. Each day I discover another obstacle in the way but I am learning that I don't always have to smash it down in order to be successful, I can walk around it or tiptoe over it as long as I don't ignore it then I am taking a step in the right direction.

My tree

It starts off as an innocuous thought somewhere deep in my subconscious, a thought I can't even begin to vocalise because I don't know what it is. It's clever though, it plants a seed which takes root and eventually spreads into my conscious mind telling me no. No you don't need food, no that person doesn't want to talk to you, no you don't look good - you get the picture. This one thought, that I had absolutely no control over, has left me living in the shadow of its branches, a spectacular tree which I have watered and nurtured over many months has now become such a part of me that it's hard to let go, but let go I must.

As I wandered through the leaves and branches which the recent storm had covered the local path with I was struck by the realisation that all my tree of doubt needed was a damn good shake. I can't get rid of my tree with one shake, but I can stop nurturing it, I can listen to my therapist and slowly but surely add more food to my safe list, I can listen to my husband when he tells me I look good, I can believe that I will get better. 

My tree has drained me of the believe that I deserve to be here, as it had grown I have shrunk, now is the time to fight back. I deserve to be living, I have a right and a reason to be here. I may not yet know what my purpose in life is but I know I have one and I know that this eating disorder is not the end for me. 

Ana

You picked me because you think I'm weak,

You picked me because I'm scared,

You are the one I battle,

The one who's always there.

You brought me comfort,

You brought control,

You changed my life,

Confused my goals.

But now I'm getting stronger,

I see the error in your ways,

You are not the friend I needed,

More an enemy in disguise.

I will not let you beat me,

I will not let you win,

I will not let you take my life,

I'm tougher than you think.

Recovery

The long and winding road

I've never been the sort of person who just spontaneously plans a trip (I'd love to be that person it's just not in my psyche). When I set off on a journey I like to have a good idea in my head of where I am going and how long it will take to get there, maybe this is why I am finding recovery so hard. It doesn't come with a set of directions to follow, it isn't nicely gift wrapped. Recovery is an unknown journey for me, the only certainty is that by the end of it i'll be the one thing I am scared of most in this world, heavier.

People have the misconception that recovery is simply a case of eating more but it really is so much deeper than that. I am having to learn to ignore those voices that tell me food is bad, that enjoying food is greedy. I didn't stop eating because I wanted to thinner, I don't think the skeletal look is an attractive one, I stopped eating to gain some sort of control over my life as I went spiralling into the depths of anxiety. I aspire to have a body like the athletes I cheered on at last years Olympics - strong and functional.

My problem with food goes way back to my early teens, a time when I was suddenly conscious of my body (puberty is a bitch for everyone!) I had aspirations of becoming a ballet dancer, I worked my body hard and then I pushed it even further, I was a typical 'bun head' I lived to be in the dance studio and on stage. My friends were starting to have periods and mine were still absent, I was desperately trying to fit in at school and yet I was different - I knew what I wanted to do, I didn't go out to parties as there was always a dance class I wanted to go to more, I wasn't interested in boys, I wanted good grades and I worked hard to get them. These things singled me out and in an attempt to blend in (or disappear) I controlled my food. This means my eating disorder has been a part of my life for 13 years. Whenever anything has gone badly for me I've coped by restricting my diet, this isn't turned around by simply eating more - if only it was. I need to learn to make choices based on what I want to eat rather than what is the lowest in calories. I need to learn that my self worth isn't measured by how little I've eaten, I need to learn to take control and fight back.

Recovery doesn't come with a set of directions, every single person who is recovering from an eating disorder will be on a different path to mine, one that throws up different challenges. Every step I take is taking me further away from my comfort zone and deeper into the unknown. Is it hard? You bet your life it is, but I have never been so determined to fight in my life.