Having THAT conversation.

'You must do the things you think you cannot do.'
Eleanor Roosevelt

 Next week is Eating Disorder Awareness Week 2015, yes another one, and once again I find myself wondering how I feel about it. Luckily I will be on holiday in Center Parcs with my boyfriend and family so I'll be away from all of the very unnecessary before and after pictures that make me want to shout and scream so much, yes we all know what the conventional anorexic looks like, lets not (excuse the pun) feed into that stereotype anymore please.

Every year I have participated and even used it as an oppurtunity to take a step forward in my own recovery, in fact it helped me say the words 'I have an Eating Disorder' out loud for the first time after my first hospital admission. 

Last year it wasn't so much a step forward for myself but more of trying to raise awareness that recovery was possible, that there was hope for those that are in the depth of the darkness, that there was a way out of the torment, and even though I am not there yet I still believe this.

This year the most important thing that has happened in terms of my recovery is people calling me out on my slips, people caring enough to talk to me when they see my strength falter. These conversations can be so crucial to someone at any stage of their Eating Disorder. I cannot stress enough how much good it can do if done in a sensitive manner.

Essentially starting off a conversation with someone can be nerve racking, and depending on where they are on their journey you could get a number of responses, but I promise you that having that scary conversation can potentially make such a big difference.

When I was first ill I hated the people that would try to talk to me, I would put up a barrier and become defensive, but I would always go away and think about it, and a small part of me would know that they were right, and I now have so much admiration for the people that approached me. 

Later on down the line the people that spoke to me would just be met with confusion, denial and ambivalence, I would feel so touched that they cared but not quite understand why they were being so dramatic, but knowing someone was worried and cared that much really helped me start to doubt that maybe my Eating Disorder was dangerous, maybe I did really need to make changes, maybe I was about to lose everything.

Either way having that conversation got the real part of me thinking, and any anger that came out was from my Eating Disorder, it was being challenged and confronted, it had been seen and it was becoming difficult to get away with. The Eating Disorder part of me was scared, which made me scared.

Now the conversations that I have, as heart breaking as they are, pull me out of any form of denial that I've been in, they open my eyes to the slips that I have allowed because, well, as long as I'm not as bad as I used to be right? Wrong. A million times wrong, but I could of gone on letting these slips happen day after day had I not been called out on them, and for that I will always be grateful.

So if you know someone that needs a conversation, be brave enough to have it. Sensitively confront the Eating Disorder and let it know that it's not getting away unseen.

The MIND slogan is 'It's time to talk' and it is.
That conversation could make a world of difference, I know all of mine did.  

The end of limbo.

A very very good friend of mine once described Anorexia in a way that left me speechless. She said that 

'Anorexia is an unwelcome visitor that sits in the back of your head, eternally. It’s a radio frequency I can’t quite tune out of. I can, consciously tune into other stations at the same time, and play them louder, but I’m still ignoring it crackling away in the background. Sometimes something great happens – and it’s like my favourite song has come on which I love singing along to and getting lost in, and for a moment I’m so enjoying it I manage to tune completely out of stupid-anorexia.fm which is playing behind it. But then that song finishes and I can hear it again. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to consciously ignore a noise, but it’s very hard. Sometimes your frustration with not being able to turn it off comes to a point where you almost think just turning it up loud enough to actually hear it properly would be better. At least then you can hear what’s actually playing on that station. Of course, I know that’s a stupid thing to do…but that’s the level of desperation this takes you to.'

I remembered this metaphor because just recently I have found myself tuning into stupid-anorexia.fm when I am on my own
and I've felt guilty for it as I have things and people in my life that make me so very happy; then I remembered this metaphor and realised that just because I have found myself tuning in when I am on my own it doesn't belittle the happiness felt when with others, or when listening to the favorite songs. It doesn't mean that you can't be happy at other times, it doesn't mean that you can't appreciate the other stations, the happiness you feel when surrounded by those you love.
It is, however, a scary thought to need the noise of others to be able to tune out of that ever so suffocating stupid-anorexia.fm.

For a few months now I have been in limbo. It has felt like I have just been waiting for the go ahead to get on with my life, I guess in a way, due to my uni course, I was. All I know is that, life wise, I have wanted more, I have felt inadequate and stagnant, not moving forward and desperately trying to not move backwards. Going nowhere.
It got to the point where because I wasn't moving forward I craved giving up and moving backwards, giving in and turning the volume up on the station that refused to go away, tuning in and checking out. I have been very lucky because even though I'd like to believe that I am stronger then that on my own, I also have someone who makes me extremely happy and with just his presence manages to tune out the crackling of stupid-anorexia.fm completley.

 The reality of recovery is that it is really fucking hard, excuse my french.

It is a fight, every second of every minute of ever day. You don't just decide to get better, you have to decide it over and over again, and sometimes you can't, sometimes you slip up, but that doesn't mean your failing, it means you have a chance to decide to fight at the next hurdle. The challenges are exhausting both mentally and physically, and even when challenges are achieved it doesn't end there, there's usually an aftermath of guilt and terror, a countless amount of 'what have I done's and break downs and your brain screaming horrible things at you. The act of recovering goes against every single fiber of your being, it is wanting to do one thing with all of your heart and soul but knowing that your life depends on you doing the exact opposite.
Its going against what has been engrained to keep you sane for such a long time, it is exhausting, it is hell, but it isn't permanent.
 

It is hard but it does get easier, life takes over, the decisions become less hard to make, the days of falling some how become less, you find ways of coping with the difficult feelings. It takes time, a lot of tears, a lot of challenges but you CAN get through the tunnel that feels so dark and scary.

You then get the chance to build the life that anorexia made you so fearful of, and you can find that the fear was unnecessary and that life has some amazing moments that you would of missed out on if you had carried on down the path of self destruction.

My limbo is over, and it is a relief, I have my ethics approval and it feels like I can breathe again. It feels like I have finally shaken the label of 'vulnerable', and I can now start to move on to another chapter in my life.
But this time last week I felt like I never would, I felt like none of this would ever go away, I felt like I was in my worst nightmare, in the nearly, not quite, nowhere. The recovery that meant you weren't ill anymore but not yet well enough to be enough for 'life'.

It just goes to show that when you think you have reached your breaking point, you're low that will send you backwards, that you might be closer out of the tunnel then you think. 

Never give up. Recovery is so hard and it can feel like you aren't making progress, but keep at it, you might be closer out then you think. Trust the process. It's going to be ok.

All or Nothing

For those in recovery from an Eating Disorder you will know that there are ups and downs. There are the good days,the bad days and the days where we don't have a clue what voice we are listening to, be it the Eating Disorder or logic.

There's the cliche mantra of taking things a day at a time, a meal at a time.

We are told that if we have a bad day to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves down and that tomorrow is a chance to get back on track. 

We are given all of these tools and sayings to help us self soothe when we criticize and torment ourselves for slips, because a common trait for those with Anorexia is black and white thinking, all or nothing, perfectionists.

So it's hard when we slip to see it as just that, a slip.

It's hard when not all behaviors are gone to believe in recovery.

I know that, for me, my ideal recovery is one where Anorexia is gone completely, no trace left, no need for it, no niggling memory of it, no active behaviors.

So slips to me mean that I am failing, and that is where I am right now, trying to reign in the new slips.

I have been dreading writing this because, as previously mentioned, slips to me mean that I have failed, means that the 'all' in the 'all or nothing' logic is dangerously close, it means I'm balancing over a path that I never want to go down again, or even already a few steps down it. I have kept this quiet because I never wanted to utter the words 'I'm really struggling' ever again.

I never wanted to break the trust that I have worked so hard to build. 

But now I am uttering those words, because it's the reality and there is hope and learning in that.

The most frustrating thing in all this is the fact that I am happy, very happy, and yet here we are again. I realize that my slip comes from many triggers, the main one being anxious and aware of the unpredictability of all the good things in life. Not feeling secure and on edge that at any second all the things that have been built up can disappear, just like that, gone. The anxiety sits heavy and the more I try to look for something secure and safe the more I stumble across the safety of my Eating Disorder, it once again becomes my life line, it means that if I do lose the good things that I still have something to hold on to.

I do not recognize the person that I have become. I have gone from a girl that copes by using self destruction, a self destruction that I naively thought was invisible, to a girl that understood herself and almost liked the strength she felt, to a girl that reacts to triggers and is someone not very likeable. 

So please bear with me, I am trying to understand myself again, I'm trying to understand my slip and learn from it and I know I may not be that pleasant to be around at the moment but I am learning and adapting.

For those that are also clinging on to not letting the slips take them down onto a spiral, know that you are not alone in that. 

Know that if you are petrified about being too far into the 'all' path that it's not too late to pull yourself out, because even though it might be black or white. all or nothing, we forget that we still have a choice, and we forget that we have always asked too much of ourselves. 

It's always been too much to starve or purge our way to near death, it's always been too much to live by the rules we have created to try and ease some kind of burden, it's always been too much to cause ourselves the physical and mental pain that we have,  and it has always been too much to expect this to just go away over night.

There will be slips, there will be the bad days and there will be hard times, but it doesn't mean a fall down that rabbit hole again, it doesn't mean we are hopeless, it means we are human and we have a fight ahead of us, it means we have to cut ourselves some slack, breathe and, as always,  trust the process. 

It's going to be ok.

Strength

So it's Mental Health Awareness Day, and I wasn't going to write anything because I kind of begrudge there being just a day for raising awareness, but then I got called a 'Mental Health Blogger/Activist' and decided I would write the blog that has been in my head for a few days now. One that's been going over and over.

This one is not for those that suffer with Mental Health problems, but for those who have loved ones that do. Those that watch on from the side lines and feel helpless to the destruction. I can't promise you that I have the answers because everyone is different, I can't tell you what will help, but I can try to shed some light from my experience.

I know what it's like to watch someone that you love suffer and shrink in front of your eyes, it's heart breaking, and although you would move mountains to help there is little that you can actually do. 

The one thing that I can say, and it may seem impossible, but the one thing that I know that would of helped me, is to be a pillar of strength.

Now before I continue I would like to say that whatever I write I am not saying that my Mental Health problems were due to my Ex Husband, he did not cause my Anorexia, just as my Anorexia did not break down our marriage. 

We didn't survive my Eating Disorder because of the people we are, I coped by internalizing and he coped by expressing his anger, our personality's clashed and in the end we did not survive because we didn't fit together. We didn't belong.
I had an ED before I even met him but when a big event happened within our relationship I turned to self destruction because I blamed myself and it became worse, when things got so bad I would be approached with anger (which is understandable), but this anger made me feel even more of a failure so I began to hide my downfall, be secretive, lie, which just made things worse and fueled his anger. 

It was a viscous circle which not only encouraged the reasoning's for my Anorexia but also meant that we were stuck in a bubble of unhappiness. 

Being approached with anger made me feel like I wasn't trying hard enough, so I gave up even trying. It made me feel like a failure which fueled my self hate. In the end, when I was at my worst, I was told that I was no longer loved, having spoken to him since I know it was a desperate attempt at trying to make me realise that I was losing everything and needed to fight, but I was already trying and it achieved the opposite.

I believe that for someone to truly start on the recovery journey that THEY have to want it, no matter what actions you take, or kick starts you try to give. I know that it is so hard to not do anything when all you want to do is swoop in and take action, bargain, beg, plead, shout, but it needs to come from within THEM. The more you beg and plead the more guilt and pressure lays on their shoulders. There is something you can do though, what you CAN do is to be there, to not give up on them.

I truly believe that within every person that suffers there is a part of them that doesn't want to be this way. 

I know that on the days that I used to class as 'good days', the days were Anorexia called all the shots, I would go to bed feeling happy, feeling like I had done well, but I'd also have a part that cried as I fell asleep because I didn't want to feel like that anymore, because I so desperately didn't want to think or act in the way that I was, I so desperately wanted out even if I didn't feel ready to act on it yet.

Remember that, in the moments where you get so frustrated, where you just want to shake them and scream at them and tell them to stop it, that that part is in them too, apart from that part doesn't want to just shake themselves, that part of them wants to do so much worse so that they don't have to put everyone else through it as well, because they don't know how to make it stop, because they are just frustrated as you are and yet they know that it's only them that can fight.

Be a pillar of strength. 

Stand by them and let them know that you will never leave them in this fight. That you are in it together. That you wont pressurize them, or get angry, but you will be there for support, that you will never give up on the belief that they can get better. 

That in an unstable world they can trust that you will still be there. That you wont give up.

I know that this is asking a lot, because how can you stand by and watch some one dance with death so closely, but you just have to keep on believing that things will get better, believe in their strength, even if you can't see it, believe that it's in there and that they will find it.

Your unfaltering belief will be what strengthens them in the end. A spark of doubt can ignite the Eating Disorder more then you will ever know. 

 Your belief is valid, because people can and do get better, and then they can begin to be strong for themselves. I am very lucky I seem to have found someone that has already been a pillar of strength without even knowing, not because I have needed it, but by indirectly reminding me that right now I am strong enough to not need a pillar of strength, and that feels amazing.

Perspective

Perspective. 

Sometimes all you need is a bit of perspective, and sometimes that means time and space too.

The last few entries to this blog I've wondered why I am writing, what the point in writing this is, whats the aim. I've worried that I'm beginning to write stuff that has no value, but every time I wonder this I get a message from someone saying that it had helped in some kind of way. I guess thats the point, to help, to let people know that they aren't alone, to show a more realistic side to recovery, to show the everyday struggles and everyday triumphs, so that people know that blips don't have to be relapses, to know that at whatever stage things can be tough and at whatever stage things can get better, to show that even though people are far down the recovery line that there are still daily fights that people may not know about, to let people know that the fights can be won.

When I was ill I was surrounded by people that weren't getting better, had no interest in getting better and actually competed to see who could sink even further into destruction. I was sucked into a world where 'getting better' was either impossible no matter how hard you tried or it was weak and pathetic to want such a thing. I saw people reach out for help, relapse, be forced into treatment, relapse, try treatment for the millionth time and promise it was the last time, only to relapse. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that, we all have our own journeys, but being surrounded by that made it feel like I too would be trapped in the nightmare, in the suffocating, smothering, horrifying nightmare, forever.

I want people out there to know that there is hope.

That an Eating Disorder doesn't have to be a life sentence.

That even though, statistically, only 46% of sufferers will get better, that that is a past statistic, that next year it could be higher and YOU could be one of them.

That I will stand and be a voice for those that need to hear it, I will tell you that it CAN get better.

I remember my second admission, sitting in my hospital window, feeling utterly hopeless and broken, emailing someone very important to me, begging them to tell me that it gets better, that it goes away, that I didn't have to just learn how to cope with it, that it GOES AWAY, completley goes away. 

I had someone stand for me and be the voice that said it can get better, that the fight that I was entering would be worth it. I had someone be a light out of the darkness for me.

I was promised it could, but it depended on ME.

Only I had the control, the power and the strength to change, only I could decided when to say 'This ends now'. 

In saying all of this it would be hypocritical to say that I've got there, that it has all gone away for me, it hasn't, but I believe it can. I believe that I came very close for a few months, recently things have gotten tough but I know that it's just a tough patch, not a spiral, because thats what I've decided it is.

I don't know if it's because I have become more aware of my body, more conscious of how it looks and the space it fills, but my gremlin is giving me grief for it, and when I don't act on what my

gremlin says the bastard gets louder, so right now my gremlins giving me a bit of jip.

Both my head and my heart is convinced that acting on these thoughts is a bad idea and never going to happen, but my gremlin isn't so easily convinced. 

I have never had to fight so hard, because usually I would of just acted to silence the thoughts, and keep acting, now I am not doing that.

I am stronger then the gremlin, I have more to gain from not letting it win then I ever do from being sucked in again. I know this, logically, I know this.

I want people that are struggling to know that even though you may be surrounded by people that aren't getting better, or that don't want to, that you can, that people can and HAVE. 

I may be struggling but I feel no shame in saying that I am striving for a life that has no trace of my gremlin, and I believe I will get there, someday soon, because I realized that I have the control.

Maybe, for an illness that (for some) is so focused on having control, maybe its about perspective, instead of only being able to control you're self destruction start to control you're self nurture, and no matter how adamant you are that you don't deserve it, I promise you that YOU DO. 

You survived too.

I opened Pandora's box.

 This week I am moving house, and whilst packing I came across the box I keep with all my Inpatient memories in, from both admissions. This includes almost everything, cards sent from friends and family, journals I wrote whilst in there, food log, creative writing extracts, NHS letters, Weight charts, Care plans, CPA notes, Dr's notes, Hospital letters, Blood results, Keyworker notes.......everything. 

I must admit, tears were shed. At first, admittedly, because I saw all the different weights I have been, from low to high to lower to middle ect. I then went on to read all the cards sent to me, the 'I love you's, the 'You're amazing's and I felt a rush of nostalgia, a longing for the comfort and safety of being so ill that you are removed from the real world. So poorly that everything stops and your main priority is surviving.

With things feeling so topsy turvey right now, nothing being stable, this was not something I wanted to see. I plummeted into feeling overwhelmed and wanting to delve back into the world where I was capable to shut everything out, where numbers numbed my emotions and fear of the unpredictable. 

Then I found a letter from my dad. I keep one by my bed, I have spoken of it before, the letter where he outlines how the 'little devil' is winning every battle and killing his daughter and dreams before his very eyes. This one was different. This one was when I first admitted to my problem and shared that I was seeking help. This one was my beloved Papa bear telling me how proud he has always been of me, and how proud he continued to be, and how sure he was that I would beat this thing. I remember the day I received this letter, and I remember being touched beyond words. 

All I want to do right now is find every single person that my Anorexia touched and say I am sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I am so so sorry. 

This illness does not just consume those who suffer but also those that are included in said persons life. Those that witness you're destruction and feel helpless to it.

The agony I put my family through is something that saves me from falling over and over again. It breaks my heart to think that they had to stand by and watch their daughter, their sister, be so hell bent on self destructing with no real reason why and no way of helping. They had to stand back, with an awareness of the health implications whilst I was safe in the bubble of denial. Day in day out they feared phone calls in case it was their worst nightmare, their worst fear. I have said it before, but no father should ever have to write to their daughter telling her that she is going to die soon if she didn't stop destroying herself. No father should ever have to write those words. No Mum should ever have to keep her phone on her just in case. No sibling should be scared to next see their sister for fear that she's gotten even worse. No family should have to go through that.

I understand that those that have Eating Disorders don't chose to enter into such hell, it is an illness and not a choice, I understand that. I never chose to feel the way I used to, and I never consciously chose to get by by engaging in such a dangerous coping mechanism. It was something that took hold of me and that I couldn't control, but for what it's worth;

I am so sorry for all the times I could of chosen to fight and didn't. All the meals I could of fought harder on, all the days where I could of called for help, for all of the tablets that I could of flushed away, for all of the days where I could of accepted help sooner, for all of the hospital admissions that could of been avoided, I am so sorry. 

Sometimes I look back on my past and feel sad because of all I have lost due to this. I have learnt that this is pointless and that there is no point in dwelling, that there are better and happier times a head. That even though it was hell it has made me stronger, more confident, wiser, and that the silver linings outweigh the nightmares and memories. But for my family I'm not sure what silver linings they have, just the relief that it's over.

It was never just my journey, it was never just me surviving Anorexia, it has always been me and my family surviving Anorexia, and for this I will forever be sorry, grateful for them sticking by me and believing in me, but truly deeply sorry.

Finding stability in instability

I usually write after having a few bad days, when clarity has hit me and I feel strong enough to write a positive post that can show people that there is hope, that bad days don't always mean relapse.

This morning I decided that 'screw it, I'll write in the midst of the bad days', but as I start to write I feel it has once again passed. Go figure.

I woke from a dream the other day, a dream that I've not been able to shake. 

I dreamt that I was back where I was a year a go, not life wise, but body-wise, that the year to follow had just been a dream in itself, and when I woke the first thing I did was body check. It was distressing. As much as I don't want to be back in that horrible head space anymore, placing my hands on my new curvy figure when my brain expected something else was, well, distressing, to say the least. 

Since then I've had to persuade myself constantly that I do not want to go backwards, every second of every day, I do not need to go backwards. 

Yet I'm feeling all nostalgic for the comfort that going backwards brings. The invincibility I remember it surrounding me with, the stability that I have been so recently craving, the numbing of the anxiety from the unpredictable,

I guess that's the underlying issue. Stability, or lack there of. 

It's been going over and over in my brain, having things that you are scared of losing, getting to a place where you are happy and having the fear that it could all be lost for hundreds and thousands of reasons. I struggle with change and with losing people, in fact I'd say they were my worst fears, and it has been weighing down on me for the past few days.

Until I realized that maybe I should stop being such a pansy. 

That I am lucky to have things I am scared to lose, because if I had nothing to lose what would be the point? 

That the fact that I have things I want to keep hold of should mean that I am finally getting to the good parts in life, that I hit rock bottom and had nothing to lose but now it's a different story and that instead of wanting to rush or run away that I should embrace the risk, because 

“The trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.”Erica Jong

Risks helps us grow, help us move forward, help us gain more out of life, help us achieve our dreams.
I know now that I would rather have things that I'm scared of losing but be happy in the here and now then revert back to something that appears to give me security but also make me miserable.

So I have decided that instead of looking back towards my Eating Disorder for stability, instead of siding with the safe and comfortable, that I will find stability in instability, security in always choosing to move forwards, and safety in knowing that I can push through the fear. 

Life may be unpredictable, I may not be where I want to be in life, I may not be able to help those around me that are suffering, I may not be able to ease the burdens of my nearest and dearest, but I can rely on the fact that I am stronger then I have ever been, and instability may feel like bad things could happen in the blink of an eye, but it also means good things can too. 

:)