When anorexia takes over afterthoughts

*trigger warning, I talk about calories, please look after your own recovery*

So, last week I pushed myself and my anxieties and produced an international broadcast for work, high pressure, all my planning and with my own standards to hit. I am proud of our coverage and I don't often say that, but I am. I could pick at the bits that could have gone better, but I'm doing the positive thing and learning from them. You wonder where the negatives are coming from then, right?

Well. Me. Food and body. Calories.

Being on the road, in a hotel and eating in restaurants for most of the week means my head is going round and round about how much I have over eaten in the last 7 days. This is where the negatives begin.



Artichoke and Olive Salad in Folkstone.




Tomato soup and bread






Beligum Goats Cheese, Apple and Olive Salad

It's probably the most I've eaten out consecutively in about 7 years, the least control I've had in the last 7 years, the most causal evening drinks I've had and although I estimated calories each meal and day and kept my usual 'tabs' on myself. I just feel grosse.

I feel like I have ballooned. I am the stereotypical 'been away and gained a stone' woman and I hate every inch of it. Really I do.

In reality I'm guessing I ate around 2000 calories each day. And yes, I was busy, travelling, broadcasting and had long days. Around these meals it was porridge pots for breakfast, fruit and M&S salads for lunch or dinner...Regarless, that all feels excessive for me. It does. I know that's the RDA for a 32 year old woman. But I do usually have around 1500 on a daily basis. And no I don't lose weight on that.




It was hard eating abroad and I did challenge myself to order things and pick at bread and sides. I had salads where I could, soup one evening and no, I was in Belgium and didn't have waffles or more than a sample of chocolate. But I feel crap about my orders in some restaurants which were higher calories than what other people ordered. And even 6 days on, I still feel that sense of regret for consuming more calories than I 'needed' to.




That happened yesterday when I went for Sunday Lunch for a friend's mini hen meal, I had a veggie Pattie with the brioche bun and swapped chips for salad and scrapped the onion rings. But I checked the calories AFTERWARDS and it was 1200 for the meal and trimmings. And I wish I'd ordered a salad. I enjoyed the burger but just got that regrets and the 'maths' afterward today working out what the meal i consumed was. It feels like I made the wrong choice.

I am on leave from work this week and although I want to make the most of the down time and rest and visit people the idea of not having my standard food/meals Is bothering me. I feel the GREED needs to stop.


I don't know if I said. But I weighed myself the other week on my neighbour's scales and my weight was pretty stable. Up slightly. Still under 60kg (my original target when at EDU) and no. I'm still not having periods. But my god. I just see the barrel in the Mirror and feel like in need to cover up my body. Don't even talk to me about the formal dresses I need to buy for a few occasions coming up.




It's almost harder that I know this all so logically now and I don't get highly anxious about ordering or eating food, but that doesn't mean anorexia isn't still there. It is. She is.

I don't like it. Any of it.

I am gaining weight. I don't like it.
I am letting myself eat more than 12 months ago. I don't like it.
I am letting myself drink more booze. I don't like it.
I am letting myself buy milky coffees most days.
I eat more nuts and dried fruit again....
I don't like my clothes feeling tighter, or having to buy a bigger size.
I don't like my body at all. Particularly my stomach and bloated torso.
I don't like that I let myself do this.
I hate the fact I have stopped exercising so much.

But I am letting myself do all this within rules. I could bullshit myself and say that I don't feel disordered but I am not in the bullshit game. And on the flipside...

I don't like that I still have SO MANY food rules.
I am stopping doing things I like. I don't like it.
I hate that I still count calories. But I do it.
I hate that my negative self talk win.
I hate that my life is still organised by food.
I am too sensitive and I don't like it.

But none of this is all-consuming. Just consuming sometimes. It ebbs and flows and feels like it used to back in the days before anorexia took control. Just frustrated and scathing of myself. Blaming myself for all of this, not knowing how to fix it.

I don't even feel like I can even BE anorexic and know turning that way doesn't fix things in the long run. I don't like not thinking I have options.

I don't like this half life. But the first list means I am stuck here.

Looking back and thinking forwards

I'm not sure how to explain how it felt walking back to the eating disorders unit on Thursday, I actually made a 'Ughh' noise out loud heading up the driveway towards the outpatient department. Loud enough to wonder if anyone had heard me. It was a completely mixed set of emotions.

In some respects it felt familiar, like going back somewhere steeped in memories would, but in other ways it felt much more clinical and cold than before. I felt out of place and disappointed in myself. I didn't like how even knowing I was going there made anorexia louder, in a 'pride' sort of way. I didn't like that volume. Despite the residue of my eating disorder, I wouldn't say it was a voice which out-shouted my own for the past 18 months. I've been louder, which is why I've made the progress I have done thus far. 

My assessment was with a Dr. I'd not seen at all before, but whom I knew of. She also knew of me. 

I was weighed, measured, attacked by the vampire and had an ECG. The latter was fine, the bloods are pending, I seem to have shrunk 2cm in 2 year and my weight was higher than it was Saturday and lower than the last time they weighed me. 

Too low for them to be happy with. But not low enough to ring alarm bells. A BMI they're not happy with, a BMI which means I have been offered treatment. But I don't think it's my BMI which they're mostly concerned with. The lack of periods is one thing they're keen to change, as is my thinking about myself and  the food rules I still live by. 

It was a lot of the old questionnaires about self esteem, thinking, mood and emotion - the clinical side of things - and the therapy admin. We spoke at length about the care I'd had before - and how the service had changed since. Those people who have followed my blog from Day 1 will know that I have never defined the 'type' of therapy I had. Because I was never told. I ended up with a miss-match cobbled together careplan with no clear 'type' of therapy, no clear boundaries and no one style of work. That was partly because of the faults in the EDU, partly to do with my emergency admission in 2011, and my refusal for IP care, but need for serious support and finally, a little do with my quick move back to work - and ability to NOT focus on therapy. 

Things have changed. I have now been given two options. A course of CBT-E, with hardcore weight-gain, 20 sessions twice weekly and then 20 more one a week. With a focus on weight restoration, weigh-ins every session and then therapy to deal with all the anxiety OR CAT (cognitive analytical therapy) with an expectation but not a focus on WR, dealing with WHY I still think certain ways. Either 16,20 or 32 sessions. Obviously, the first is the one which is clinical proven to help anorexia best - the latter, a good option too. With the amount I have going on in my life, the latter is looking 80/20 most likely for me to go with. Plus, let's not bullshit. I'd be terrified of the first, but also, I have to keep my main focus on work and life. 

The one comment Dr. W made was "I think you owe it to yourself to finish off recovery"...and she's right. For as recovered as I am, I am not free. But what is hard to comprehend is being back there and not feeling like I belong. Being back there at all.  Although what is near-on impossible to get my head round and answer was the parting questions raised...."What do YOU want to get from going back? What purpose do my eating rules serve and am I willing to give therapy another go." 

Who knows? Probably. Maybe? Yes?

The never ending number niggles

Don't read into this as me being at war with my body, or hating my weight or even being scared of food or meal times. It's not like that.

What I can't tell is what's bothering me and what my mind is expecting me to do about solving the conflict.

Before being discharged from services back in March I agreed the best solution to the 'to weigh or not to weigh' issue was a monthly weigh in on public scales at the leisure centre or supermarket. That's been working out fine. It means I'm not tempted to 'just check' my weight more regularly and it's the same scales, so I don't worry about 'the right number' and fret over that.

This morning was sixth month of this routine. A routine which I know is more obsessive than it should be. I go at the same time, wear the same clothes and worry that I might need another wee before stepping on, just incase it's not my 'real weight'. (I think in another life I would make a brilliant Scientist with these controlled experiments!) 

I do worry about the numbers. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that. I don't want them to go up, something I wish I could stop making an issue. The thing is, my weight is down since leaving treatment. Not significantly, but enough to leave me with the lingering fear of getting back to where I was when I waved goodbye to my EDU team. Although today, it was up by 0.4kg on last month. And that throws up conflicts I wish I didn't still have.

I don't try to lose weight, but I don't try to gain either. Anyone who's had anorexia will know the temptation to lose weight is there. The secret hope that stress, or a busy life or the day when you ate a little less meant you lost 'a little' or at least stayed the same. That 0.4kg, 400g, half a pound, bothers me. Not significantly. It just niggles away. Makes me blame myself. That I've eaten too much somewhere this month, that despite running and exercising I have gained weight, when other people eat more than me and lose it. I just want to know why. Have an answer. 

It's not like I'm sat here crying or tearing my hair out - or even changed my breakfast when I got back. I have no intentions of doing that. But it just annoys me. Confirms that I still let my weight get on my nerves, like it always have. In a resentful not hateful way. 

Truth is I AM Conflicted over the benefits of even knowing or if I should confide in a friend about the real numbers and the loss since discharge. No one's noticed, so it's not an issue. I'm not restricting my diet in a way that makes it hollow, I'm generally getting on with life? Plus, I don't really know what to say or the response I'm expecting? Someone will pipe up about 'the need to fully gain weight' and 'recovery being about a healthy weight for your body' and I'm very aware of the rhetoric. I'm  aware that I still hate the idea of weight gain. I'm also aware of the 100 reasons 300g difference in a month is fuck all. 

I'm aware of all that, what I don't know is if this allure of losing weight or the fear of gaining will ever go away after a lifetime of blaming myself for the littlest issue. 

When's a habit a behaviour or a decision a deal?

It'll come as no surprise that I've always been a creature of habit. But when a large chunk of your life has been spent with unhealthy habits, sometimes the comfort of said habits is actually doing more harm than help. 

What I still struggle with is the internal debate on where the line is on habits and eating disordered behaviours actually comes. With the routine and habits that on one hand I see as 'just getting on with life' but on the other are maintaining a semi-recovered status quo. 

Remember those 'no big deals' I battled early in recovery? The NDB habits which Ms. F and Mrs W. challenged everyday when I altered, switched or left bits off my meal plan? Well I guess I should have challenged them more back then, because they're so natural to do.

It's not like the behaviours - or habits - cause me distress or upset though. But I wouldn't know if challenging them does, because I don't do it very often. That's the thing. I do just get on with life. But does that life include controlling my diet, avoiding high calorie 'junk' food and having rules around when I am 'allowed' or 'not allowed' to 'treat' myself by eating out or adding a bread roll? Yes. 

So how is that recovered I hear you ask? Easy, it's not, because I am not free to eat what I want, when I fancy it. I am not free from guilt and I feel like I need to 'earn' those treats. Do I feel guilty for eating or bad when people point out how much, or what I eat or if I think people look 'healthier' than me. Yes. 

But on the other hand, do I WANT to include most of the foods I don't have in my diet? No not really. So this is the conundrum I am in. With no 'weight restoration' plan or dietitian setting out 'challenges' to test anorexia, I don't - or feel the urge to - I just have these habits. My diet. 

I do jut get on with life, but life where I eat lots of salads and 'meat' (Quorn) and have the same 400 calorie breakfast, similar lunches and rotated dinners everyday. I have basket loads of fruit a week and pile my plate with veggies. I eat the same suppers, custard or soya yoghurt with dried fruit and granola for supper. Every. Single. Day. Unless of course, I eat out with colleagues or friends. Once or twice a month. There's some calories I don't count, some things I don't even think about anymore, but I wish I had tried harder to erase the mental calorie 'rough guide' I started when I stopped obsessing. Because that's my guide everyday.

Like I've mentioned in previous posts since discharge, I never hit the golden target weight I was first set, I was a kilo or two under (but in a healthy BMI for a year). And since starting life outside the EDU, my weight's not plummeted, but I have not gained over that number either. The thought of the month I get on the scales and I am that target, scares me. I know this is not right, ok?

But then again, are these just all habits I'm stuck with in an 'anorexia hangover' - or are they behaviours that still control my life? This is the debate I still have. The deals I still do? I don't know. I just get on with living with them and try to ignore food thoughts - and don't really tell people HOW I feel anymore. I just fit them in my routine and try to cope. 

Life goes on, and so does exploring recovery.

Isn't it funny how life just goes on, how arriving in a new place, doesn't make the old one disappear? However much we try to stop the world moving sometimes and scream "let me get off!", it just keeps ticking over. That's, as they say. life. 

When I was at my most ill, life stopped. Halted. That 'anorexic mixtape' stuck on loop, over and over and over again, with no respite, the same thing over and over. Treading water, every day, terrified to swim either way.

But one thing that's helping me move from being in treatment, to living life away from life at the eating disorders clinic, is just trying really hard to not call myself recovered, or in recovery, or an 'anorexia survivor'. Just trying to move on with life, explore my new skills now I've finished the swim.

I'm learning to accept recovery is never probably going to have the end point and golden beaches I once dreamt of reaching. The place where it all made sense and life was, well, dare I say perfect, sorted and fixed. It was a mirage I thought I saw in the confusion of anorexia and during the four year swim I've just made to get here.  

This came up in an interview I did with a magazine this afternoon. I was asked to describe where I am at now with anorexia. Am I still in recovery, or have I recovered? It's the first time I've spoken to someone new about my experience since discharge, and I didn't know what to say. In some ways, I HAVE recovered from anorexia, I've recovered my BMI, I've recovered my life, I've recovered my career. I no longer have full-blown clinical anorexia. But have I set up camp here?

Sort of, I've found my plot. But in saying that, I'm suggesting that I have totally overcome anorexia. Out the other side, reached that recovery cove I once referred to. I may have out swam the sharks, I may have reached the other side of the recovery ocean, But it doesn't mean I'm settled here.

Now is where I perhaps rest my arms and legs a little after almost drowning and the epic swim that was treatment. Now is where I start to explore the new place I am in, walk along the shore a little. Now is the time to use the survival skills I've been taught by Dr. B, Mrs. W, Ms F. and others - and make my own way here.

After all, explorers don't land in new places and have a ready made camp, do they? It's about arriving on new shores and using the skills picked up along the way to carve a new life. And this is where life, and my recovery is now. Not over, just me, my life, moving on in a new place. 

One of the quotes my recovery tattoo relates to is apt here too.

Crossfading chapters rather than fanfare

That's how I'd best describe the turning of the page to the next chapter of recovery.  

The chapter of recovery where treatment has come to an end. 

The next page I see is blank, not with a pre-written title in the corner, no one dictating appointments or plans. No weekly dietician, no weigh ins, no blood tests...blank. Just a date in the diary to check in in a couple of months. By then I'll be 30 and we'll have a new Government. 

But treatment being complete doesn't mean recovery is.
(as much as I wish it meant that.) 

It's time for the chapter where it's all down to me. And I've decided that I don't have to have anorexia any more. Although, four years ago, I thought that saying that out loud would come with fanfares and fireworks. But it doesn't. I don't even like telling people I've finished a chapter?

 I've gradually allowed life to cross fade into recovery. 

The part of me that desires tick boxes and clear lines despises the greyness of reality, but that's half the battle, right? In an idealistic world I could draw a bold line under recovery and recovered, but that's not how it works. I get it now. 

And I am okay with that. The blank page of this untitled chapter isn't scary as I thought it would be, it just feels natural. I'm still figuring out food, body and life, but slowly, in my own words.

The bit that doesn't feel natural is trying to explain to other people what this chapter is about or whether I like it, because I don't know yet do I? Plus, no one else has read the previous chapters the way I have. No one else has had their head stuck in my recovery like I have - so how will they ever understand this bit? 

It's not a new book, like I thought it would be. 

It's definitely still the same book, maybe a new volume? 

I've read and reread and learnt a lot in the past four years. I've been to hell and back, I've wanted to throw the book out, rip all the pages from the spine and burn it. But I haven't. I've kept reading, even when it's made no sense at all. 

But writing this next volume is about writing a future. It's about deciding who I am, not trying to understand who I am not. 

Pass the pen. 

Is it about time I turned a page?

I've been contemplating the corner of this page for a while not sure if I dare peak ahead or not, but I think I know what the next chapter starts with already...

"Life isn't perfect and recovery isn't a destination" Would be probably be the title of the chapter, or something along those lines. 

Although what makes me feel a tad sick is the fact I've always held on to the hope that I would swim ashore some place in recovery and everything would be sorted. I wouldn't hate my body, I'd eat what I wanted and not compare myself to others. But the longer I've been on this journey, the more I've come to understand that might never all arrive at once. 

I'll get to the point. I've always been kept afloat, or encouraged to keep turning pages, by Mrs W, Ms F. and for the past 18 months by Dr. B, which I've needed thus far. I've needed them to read to me at times too. However, it's felt recently more like I am just not bothering to read at all. 

So am I wasting their time, when they could be reading to someone else, someone who needs that comforting sound of being read to more than I?

I do pick up the book and focus sometimes, go over the punchlines and headlines to get me through, but I sort of know the chapters and pages by heart now. I can recite them when I get the time. The thing that's keeping me where I am, are the niggling thoughts that I haven't REALLY understood every page I've read up to now. Even when I have, I can't say I like those chapters or want to refer back to them. Let me explain...

..I still don't particularly like the idea of this 'free' eating thing, and I still know the calorie content book more word-for-word than the mindful eating manta. I feel guilty about enjoying foods. I can't say I like my body, and yes, I still think I need a way to fix it. I still get anxious about mistakes and mishaps and if I wanted children tomorrow I couldn't have them. 

That aside, I don't FEEL anorexic now. I don't think 'anorexically', I am a healthy BMI, although not 'quite' at mid-range target (Yes, that's a BMI of 22ish) and I generally focus on other parts of life for 90 per cent of the time. Which makes reading chapters with Dr B feel like I'm wasting his time when I see him. Like I already know the end of the story anyway.

However, the reason I'm not turning the corner is I also feel like I am reading ahead and that closing the book fully would mean I crave rereading it. It also feels like a bit of a disappointment. Like I was hoping the final chapter would be the best, and yet it's not feeling that way. I sort of also feel I have skim read a chapter or two, and never quite finished the book....

Despite being sick of the same old story, and reading 10 other books at the same time, putting down the recovery book NOW would make me feel like there was always more I could ha.........................

Rewriting the rule book

Rules, rules, rules. The 'number one sin' in recovery from anorexia, I know.

It's the rigid food laws that landed me here, I'm pretty confident they sure to hell aren't going to save me. But still I write them (and rewrite and rewrite and rewrite) always living in hope that I can follow them from time to time, like a good gal' should?

Not in recovery, no. It's like the reactive processes I go through each time I get panicky about weight gain or greed or really just feeling bad about eating what I still see as 'too much' and being a problem. 

Even if they don't get written down any more or signed in blood 'To Ana, with love and devotion from Sarah', I'd be a fool to believe they don't get thrown around. It's more akin to promises of politicians bringing options to the table, to appease people of all persuasions in the hope for one vote.  Constant debate, no actual action (most of the time.)

Let me take you back to my weigh in a week ago. It went up. Okay, so that's been happening fortnightly since I battled April's relapse, one should think, well done Sarah, high-freaking-five. Au contraire. The first things to flood my mind are; "How do I make it stop, slow down..why do I eat too much, I'm too used to eating for weight restoration, what will happen when I hit target and still over-eat...why am I so lazy, unhealthy, greedy...and so on...." Which being sat with him, I talked through with Dr. B sat opposite me, waiting patiently for my usual 'Don't care' response. He then reminds me (over and over) that at this moment I do need to eat this much and not burn it up. Hmm.

But anyway, without a meal plan or food diary these days..I walk away and start scribbling a new 'mental manifesto'. 

I don't need to add that to my breakfast, I could go back to that lunch option, I'll only have that snack once a month, I won't pick at that, I'll be free with that, but make up for it....and so on.

This would be a hell of a lot easier to fight back at if I didn't BELIEVE it was needed. Deep down, when I stop thinking about it and ask myself if I NEED a rulebook for eating. I still believe I do. This also makes 'good-girl-me' feel guilty for NOT following the mental rules I create. Once again, putting myself firmly on the fence and going back to times when I was willing myself to stick to the law. 

I do have major apathy for anorexia's manifesto, I know picking up that militantly-enforced, handwritten and blood-signed law book ends badly* (*in death) But I'd be kidding myself if I didn't admit that I still keep rewriting rules mentally, and finding comfort that I try to stick to them - even if most of the time I do throw the rulebook out the window.

But there is the problem with this manifesto method. Guilt. The need for change, always leaves us open to be brainwashed by rule books which ultimately are full of lies.

Magic Bricks and Castles

However magical they look once completed, you can't build a complete castle with one, single magical brick...

It takes thousands of bricks, stacked up and secured with mortar to create a caste built to stand the test of time and remain standing through storms and wars.

It takes years of help from other skilled tradesmen and women to design and build a structure that fits my needs. It's a process that can't be rushed or dragged out for too long. Time is money in the building trade! 

It's also a process without any exact plans or designs. This stresses me out. I need a plan. Not just a rough sketch of my castle. I'm going to have accept the doodles and work with what I've got. 

The mistake I make time and time again is taking time out from the hard graft of building to look for the 'magic brick' that will complete my castle in one simple step. The cure.

In recovery the 'bricks' are challenges, experiences, positive things, achievements and even just surviving tough days. It's something I've been thinking a lot about recently, trying to understand why I brush off positive things, don't think achievements in recovery are anything 'special' and why I knock myself back. .

That single brick doesn't exist, it is ALWAYS going to require more than one. 

A full recovery, like a complete castle, is going to take hundreds if not thousands of these experiences or bricks to finish.

It's going to take a lot of hard work, whether we like it or not. 

Because I keep expecting one single, magical experience brick to complete my castle, I keep taking a step back to look at my construction and I'm constantly being disappointed that it's not complete.

Positive things happen, like feeling 'okay', sticking to my meal plan, working, talking about anorexia at the Trust AGM or completing the Color Run. I recognise they're essential bricks in my recovery, but I get frustrated that single experiences or moments of positivity haven't magically 'fixed me' or finished my recovery or completed my castle.

What's worse, is this disappointment usually ends in the bricks not being firmly secured in place with the mortar and the walls are continually crumbling back to the foundations.

I'm collecting bricks, stock piling them but not putting my effort into building SECURE walls to my castle. I'd seriously get sacked if I was an actual builder. I keep knocking my walls down. taking a tea-break or giving away my bricks to Ana.

Even though I'm always working on-site, clocking in. Some days I don't believe I'm even capable of building my castle, yet I keep trying to lay bricks. I still struggle to 'see' the completed castle, yet alone imagine LIVING in it. 

This obsession I have in looking for detailed architects plans distracts me. Comparing my building progress with other people's distracts me. The jealously of people already living in their castle, living their fairytale distracts me. As does helping other people put their bricks into use.

I'm not going to build my own recovery by laying other people's bricks for them. I might be given bricks from others or get ideas to put into use in my own construction, they're bonus bricks, but other people don't have a magic brick to give me either. 

Ultimately I need to get on using my own experience bricks to build my own castle.

Buildings are completed though, it might take more than one magic brick, but a final brick will be put into place one day, but not before hundreds are used to build high walls to protect us and keep us safe.

Not the sort of walls that keep life out, the sort that protect me from anorexia. The structures that are secure enough to survive the storms of life and the cold times. Anorexia tries to convince us that her design works, her methods are good enough, but they're not. 

Listening to anorexia's building tips will mean my castle NEVER gets built. She doesn't provide magic bricks either. She's a cowboy builder. 

Having her design my castle and provide the materials means I'd be left on a derelict building site, bankrupt of experience, trying to survive the cold, alone. Sat in a dust land, watching everyone else living their fairytale lives, wondering why I didn't get given the magic brick. 

Letting go of her as a site manager has allowed me to redesign the plans. 

I've already done that, but I really have to stop looking for the magic 'recovery' bricks, expecting to build a castle on a single piece of stone masonry. I need to stop taking tea breaks and get on with laying normal, solid bricks, one by one.

We can all build a castle, if we're willing to put in the hard work and stop wishing for one magic brick to turn up.

Postcards from Suffering and Recovery

Wish you {weren't} here...

I usually post when I am feeling 'on top' of my thoughts, drawing upon themes, analogies and issues that therapy's thrown up or that I have happened to 'figure out' in recovery. But I wanted to share something different, in the hope that it helps map the progress that can be made and the difference a year (or two!) can make. 

This first part is from a journal I kept BEFORE recovery, I was was very ill and 'anorexic' but it happened to be a significant day {Choosing to do this today was unplanned, I wasn't sure what looking back would bring} The second part is last year, 10 months into recovery. 

...as for today 28th May 2013 is still happening, I am living it. Recovery is still happening. 

28th May 2011

I don't even know where to start today - I really don't.

I am off work today - I got sent home yesterday afternoon after collapsing and told to have the day off today - everyone thinks its stress - I know I can't make it in to work because I am not able to function properly at the moment - probably because I have eaten XXX or below cals a day for 50 days now. That sounds weird to say/admit to myself. I know this is affecting my life. I know it is.

I had the most honest, open and frank conversation with my housemate/BFF last night - we were up til gone midnight talking about her, her depression, me, my problems with her boyfriend, my problems with work and life and in the middle of it all. I just told her how much weight I'd lost. That was MASSIVE for me. Bigger than anything I thought I was capable of.

I told her about Ana. About how I hadn't pushed her away but that Ana was pushing her away. I hated lying to her - but Ana was making me. Convincing me that if I told my housemate that I'd be a fat bitch again - that I'd gain. That I would have failed at my goals. It was so weird to say it all out loud - and I can't explain how that feels this morning other than I feel SO different.

I have told her that I am not ready to maintain or gain or change the way I am eating - nor have I told her my UGW - or how much more I want to loose - or how close I am. But I will not keep it secret - I will at home be able to relax and measure and count and let Ana carry on making me restrict - but I am not going to let Ana push away her . Does that make sense?

I also admitted that one of my big things is a fear of gluttony and over-eating - which is where my standards of what this is and how it is defined have got more and more restrictive. I hate to think of myself of gluttonous - it makes me feel sick. With my OCD and anxiety issues I am scared of sick - I am scared of people over-eating- I hate it - I hate to think I am going to over-eat or look gluttonous. 

Now I think eating more than XXX kcals is overeating and this is where I am at. I see eating crackers - garlic bread - chips - etc, as gluttony and I believe I am better than this - and eating them is gluttony - does that make sense? I am only JUST today for the first time in 20 years of having ED thoughts realising this, that it's been Ana all along,  it's early days. VERY early days.

I slept the best I have done in a LONG time last night. 

So anyway, today -  Weigh-In  XX  with a VERY slight loss of 0.2lbs. 

{I went on to list the calories I had eaten, the calories I had planned, how many I'd undershot it by and what I had burned off. I have taken this out so not to trigger}

NOTE TO ANA - See, I have told someone I feel happier and I can still restrict the way I want to. You don't own me. We are going to be walking around shops and I have gymnastics coaching later - so est. steps burn is about XX cals.  I feel in control today. 

{Later} I'm so scared of being XXlbs again, I really am.  I won't gain that much will I? How will I make sure I don't gain it all back. What if I freak out and pig. What if I go back where I came from? I feel sick. Again - eaten too much. I might as well give up.... Frankie and Bennys - soup and salad I feel so fat. I want to die . I don't think I can do this any more...

28^th May 2012

I just keep thinking I need to send a disclaimer to everyone one of my friends, everyone I meet or will be seeing soon to not to expect me to be thin or thinner that I was the last time they saw me, or to expect me to look like I have anorexia. I just feel like I need to stop them being shocked about the weight gain and stop them being disgusted about how I don’t look thin any more. That way they won’t feel awkward or wonder why I am fat again when they see me. Maybe that way I will be less defensive or negative about looking the way I do and they’ll know why I am fatter again but I can tell them my head is still a mess. Maybe I won’t be as embarrassed about being so chubby now.

Like another thing, I am really starting to HATE that I can feel my bra digging in to my back. I would just like to feel okay in my clothes. Why do I have to be so broad and wide and have such a FAT back. I would just like to be 32 D or something with NO extra fat bulging. Not chubby with back fat.

I know I am playing scenarios out in my head, like being on the beach or at the spa next weekend and I expect or want people to see perfection but if I think about it logically that is ANA trying to tell me that I am letting myself and others down with this body. It is Ana trying to convince me that I was closer to perfection at my lowest weight, that would make people admire my body, be jealous of me for once. That I would have felt the BEST with the BEST body. But I am AWARE that it’s BULLSHIT, because like W said to me, other people don’t see anorexic bodies as perfect, just other anorexics and Ana herself. AGH. 

I don’t know what’s worse; having these sub-conscious thoughts that I want to be thin or my lowest weight being better or the fact that I am aware that they are my ED thoughts trying to convince me that Ana can make me more desirable. I know it’s hard, I know it seems so real and unreal, aware and analysed and unaware all at the same time, but I guess that is recovery, and it is HARD. Right?

But right now I am resenting all those people with eating disorders that are in recovery that stay skinny that they are just lucky, like people without eating disorders that are just skinny that don’t have to deal with looking like I do and what is worse is I know it is going to get worse too.

It is so hard because I DO trust W and F literally, with my life, but I am terrified that they have worried about my quick gain in weight but just aren’t telling me and when people tell me I am doing ‘so well’ with WR I just want to SCREAM and my head SCREAMS so much. It really just feels like the most I have ever messed up, ever.

“Never underestimate your power to change yourself. Never overestimate your power to change others.” Wayne Dyer

“Hope is the surfboard of life: It never sinks, and if you balance well, it gives you a beautiful ride.” Patti Gaulrin

And with that last quote, I know I need to find some sort of balance to enjoy life and balance won’t be at either end of the scales – it is NOT black and white, good or bad, fat or thin. I KNOW this, I KNOW I do. But I don’t believe it. Most of the time, I’d like to think balance is good, healthy is good but I just have hope, not complete sight of it. 

Maybe I will just KNOW when it feels more balanced – rather than being able to pre-empt it? But that doesn’t help me know anything NOW does it? When all I feel is FAT and don’t have much balance in my life at all. I just have a crappy life, no job, no home, I feel lonely, have no money and then I have this weight gain. It all feels VERY negative and not very fairly balanced. It is. 

My recovery is to be continued.....I am a work in progress and the next postcard from recovery will show MORE progress. This much I know. 

Ranting about STILL restoring weight.

I am confident that deep down I DON’T actually want to LOSE weight, because long-term I KNOW it doesn’t give me the life I want, but I am trapped by not wanting to gain weight right now.I just want to stay put, maintain, no more. 

Although, that fear gives Ana strength and makes her voice louder and lies more believable.

I don’t SEE the long term. I can’t conceive that each pound or kilo makes it BETTER when I don’t know HOW it’ll get better, I don’t have a plan, I can’t be sure it will be. I hope it will, but how do I know?

 Because of this, right now each pound and kilo still feels worse. I know it is so short-sighted, but anorexia really does blur the vision. 

The longer I listen, the more I listen out for her, the harder I look for proof for HER, the louder she is and the more shit I feel, it’s just the way it goes with anorexia.

Body Checks: The New Calorie Counting

Body image, BDD, weight restoration, hatred of 'hippo pictures'......there seems to be a new theme of posts appearing that are moving away from the eating, from the calories and from the food.

This is another layer of my eating disorder being stripped bare and laid out for me to try and get my head round. Hang in there with me, I'm warning you, this one could take a while.........

So, I was sat in my therapist's office on Friday, holding my favourite pink cushion to my stomach, legs twisted and crossed up a blanket (it was EVEN cold on the ward, yes!) and sitting with my arm crossed across my chest, holding on to my cold, hard shoulder bone, you know checking it was still there.

I was brought out of my, "is there more fat on this, do my thighs look chubby today, I can feel my stomach fat, my leggings are digging in" thoughts by Mrs W announcing that she was going to start some work on 'BODY IMAGE' with me to work on my BDD and resistance to weight restoration.

Starting with telling me about the new 'Body Check' journal I have to keep.

Me? Body Check? I automatically wondered why I was having to do that "I don't do that, I don't body check" Unless of course, she's talking about taking pictures of my body or obsessing about old pictures or poking my fat stomach? Oh, those body checks. Right, here goes...

I suppose it was easier to ignore or not notice the checking and my body in general as much when my preoccupation was fully on food and calories. But recently, as my MPs are settling in, and food is out of my control, as I am gaining weight,  these body thoughts are creeping in more and more...they warned me. 

It just shows my inability to think about anything else to do with my ED when I was still restricting, when my whole life was consumed with the eating side of anorexia, the calories, the portions, the scales, the weighing of food, the starving. When I thought I wasn’t REALLY AN, it ‘was just about the food’ that I am just being a fussy eater.  I am realising now, it might not be that, I might be AN! It also reminds me how deep rooted these thoughts are. This plus the general confidence and body image side of things has taken priority over every other single aspect of my life. 

Realistically, the body checking started a LONG time BEFORE the starvation, it's these checks that led me to 'give in' and listen to my ED thoughts and change what I was checking. Am I just vain? Do vain people do this? Why do I do this? (I'd like to add here that I think this is where people think AN sufffers are just self obbsessed and vain and that is all it is - I don't think they consider that we use this as ammunition to HATE ourselves and drive me to starve)  I have always poked, prodded, taken photos to beat myself up about, spent hours, days even, in front of the mirror, hating every inch of my fat, ugly, disguising body. Hours of my life spent in the gym, in the swimming pool, distracted all the time by my fat. Self hate is so deep rooted in me that I don't even know what I look like any more. I have called myself a barrel, podgeo and a hippo for as long as I remember - and ALWAYS CHECKED for the bits of my body that confirm these nicknames. I still do. 

Now in recovery, after destroying my body to stop these daily, hourly, minute by minute checks I am worried about how much is going to come out from this body checking diary thing because today I haven’t recorded it all but it's constant. 

Every time I go to the toilet I hold my stomach and hope it goes down when I pee. I poke my belly and look at my fat belly button and when I pull my leggings or jeans back up I look at how my stomach looks In what I am wearing. I check my hip bones, front and back, I spin around to check how my butt is growing. When I am talking to friends or in sessions I cover my stomach with cushions and clothes and play with my shoulders and collar bone more than I realised I do. I notice when I was sat in Costa that I often sit up straight and feel my spine and hip bones from the back and although I said to Mrs. W that I didn’t think my legs bothered me I noticed how much I touch my knees and feel the tendons and ligaments behind the knee a lot and obsess with out my thighs look all squished and fat when I'm sitting down.

I also need to be HONEST with myself here, because I feel guilty because I know I take more picture’s of my body than I let on to Mrs. W too. It might not be a lot compared to how many I used to take when I was losing weight, but I know I take more pictures that other people probably do. To ‘check’ what I look like. But I suppose more than that I spend a long time looking back at old photographs, ones I took of myself specifically because of my ED, for my own thinspro for my ED and weight loss and also looking at pictures of days out before and during losing weight to try and figure out what I think about my body.

To put it in perspective, I don’t actually have enough space in my journal or time to write them all down. To write how often I look at my stomach, or glance in the mirror and tell myself I look awful and ugly or think about how thin my hair looks, the condition of my skin all my fat and everything. Every time I look in the mirror I give myself some sort of grief about how I look or I worry about how I look. Too fat but too ill as well and you know, not perfect. NBD right?

It's these new NBD moments of checking my body, always, always the bits I hate the most, which keep the spiral of self-hate alive. They are the NBD moments that make gaining weight scary, they are the checks that my ED drives my to do. They are the check, the preoccupation and the obbsession which should tell me I'm still battling AN, despite eating. The Body Check NBDs are the biggest NBDs now and this is where the real hard work starts. 

Anyway, I need to remember that every time I go looking for the bits I hate I figure out the same thing, I hate it. Not really a productive way to spend my life is it? I know the answer. 

My Body NEEDS Christmas...

...it's excited, it's starting to wake up and act like a child at Christmas. A child that's been waiting for so long for the love, magic and excitement of Christmas Day, that they don't want it to end, ever...

This is the only way I can cope with the new bag of feelings being emptied in my head right now, but it's a festive way of coping at least!

A common theme in all of my therapy sessions and dietician appointments is always my fear of feeling greedy, gluttonous, out of control with food and with feeling hunger. In reality I have never been out of control with food - I just live in fear that I 'could be' or it might happen if I let my guard down. Obviously in the past Ana has been able to convince me I was right. That these were bad and acting on hunger = fat.

Now at a point in my recovery where I am on meal plans. Meal plans which get more substantial week by week because I haven't been able to restore (or maintain) any weight so far. Meals plans designed for weight restoration, for health restoration and meal plans that I don't DARE add up the calories of. But meals plans I TRUST are going to help me win. However,  I am still faced with all these feelings, her voice and a whole new set of emotions each time I eat.

"Of course, it's going to FEEL like you're overeating, you're eating 10x more food (and calories) than you were 6 months ago."

and my dietician is right...I am. So comparatively I am eating lots, I will FEEL greedy and I will have moments when I feel like I 'don't need all this food' and tell myself "I survived without it didn't I?" 

But that's the difference. My body was SURVIVING (just) and not actually LIVING. Which is why it's so excitable now. A child can survive without Christmas, true, but it's so much better when they can truly enjoy it and feel the magic! 

My body gets excited each time I eat. It's like each mouthful and each extra snack I have or each challenge I complete. It's like my body skips around like a 5 year old given too much fizzy drink at a birthday party. I need to embrace these moments, I need to think positively about them. I need to keep them coming. 

Realistically and scientifically I need to remember that my body is waking up, it's taking each bit of energy, each calorie, each bite from everything I eat and putting it to work. Fixing my liver, repairing my bones, building muscle and yes, adding fat (to keep me warm right?) so if I accept the state my body is in (see the 'denial' paragraph!) then it's kind of obvious that the food I'm putting in has a lot of work to be doing!

It also means that even though I am eating what sometimes feels like a day-long-eat-a-thon to me, I might still feel that ever-dreaded 'H' word, Hungry. I still struggle with the fact I shouldn't feel hungry and that feeling hungry EVEN though I've eaten more, leads to greed, which leads to fat. and Ta Da, Ana jumps in. 

But like a friend on Twitter pointed out this morning when eating more ReadyBrek than last week felt easier than Ana said it should, like I'd eaten TOO much, that I didn't NEED to increase;  "Remember, she'd say anything was too much - proof that she lies" very wise words don't you think? 

Which brings me to a common theme. Denial - see 'Ana Says I'm Faking It'  ....Ana still leads me to believe, if I was REALLY anorexic, I'd find it hard to finish each meal. If I was REALLY anorexic that I'd ignore hunger and look at calories. Oh, the denial right? I should be wise enough to believe that I am am REALLY anorexic, but an anorexic who's chosen recovery. This doesn't mean I am NOT anorexic. 

My body lives in fear that I will stop feeding it again. It is scared that it if doesn't act, doesn't speak up and tell me it NEEDS more, I won't bother. It's worried that if it doesn't keep getting food whilst it can that it will stop living again. I need to stop underestimating the intelligence of this lump of mass I have here, because it's pretty smart, it remembers. I just hope it forgives too! 

It's like a child at Christmas, excited all of December, for that one magical day, it's can't wait. Then when it comes, they never want it to end, worried life will never be that magical again. But it will be, next time. I just need to make sure my body knows that it happens with every meal, not once a year...!

The excitement on Xmas eve, I remember it well!

I never was good at long distance...

I keep thinking about why I am here now after everything. A new way of looking at it I figured out when I was talking about everything during a really deep session with my psychotherapist.  

"I have ended up here because I have finally stopped running from my feelings"

There was only ever going to be so much I could do to distract myself from how I felt about myself, how much I could distract from how SHIT I felt about myself. 


Quite simply that  I couldn't keep myself busy forever. Running between journalism and gymnastics, shopping, visiting people, going out, partying, reading, men, men, men, watching TV (more shopping) and working my ass off in the gym whenever I could. It would end in me burning out physically and psychologically in the end, and it did. 


I have always avoided being honest about how I really felt about myself, how jealous I get, how much I envied others, their lives and bodies. How I wanted to be perfect, wanted to be the best, wanted more from myself. I need to accept that this was always anorexia and the physical side effects of my eating disorder have only been on show since I have stopped running from these feelings and thoughts. 


I got tired of running away from ‘her’ tired of keeping up the front and tired of hiding behind everything I want to be or want to have. Whenever I felt really bad about my body or life, I'd spend hours wondering around Westfield or Selfridge's buying shoes and having facials, to distract from the real feelings. Never clothes, I hated my size and trying them on, Hmm!


In the last 12 months my ED has taken full control of my life and my life has been consumed by anorexia, but in the past, the behaviours and thoughts and feelings have come in waves and just kept getting stronger and stronger each time. Until they got too fast and strong to run from any more.


I need to accept that my life has become the way it has now because I have been running for so long


If I ever needed proof that I need to sit still, psychically and emotionally. It’s right here. I need to be honest, truthful, mindful and aware about everything if I am going to solve what I have been running from. If I don’t speak the truth now I might not get another chance. I will just be running forever, running from my feelings rather than dealing with them or being led to believe that ‘they aren't that much of a problem.' or that I don't really have AN or I am NOT as bad as the next girl who's fussy with food. 


 I need to SIT, be STILL and accept that I need to not distract myself or keep denying that I have a ‘real’ problem and remember that I never did like running long distance.....

Ana Says I'm Faking It...

..so I must be? Right?

WRONG.

But she’s getting good at trying to tell me that I am faking this, I am not a ‘true friend’ or really anorexic because I am slowly, very slowly leaving her behind. Her new favourite game is to see how long it takes to convince me that I am causing my own problems and my eating disorder – which is usually the same amount of time it takes me to eat a meal or drink a coffee with actual sugar syrup! This is becoming a worse feeling than the guilt of eating.

Take last night for example…Ana was telling me whilst I was making my dinner that that I should put less lentils on my plate, that I should really only eat half of my pitta bread, that that beef tomato is far too big, and I should only eat half. I found the strength to ignore her on all accounts. (Well, I suppose I could have put a few more lentils on my plate, but I did take an extra little mouthful to prove a point!) Whilst I was eating all her thoughts were whizzing around my head, but I ignored and carried on eating until I was finished, and it felt good. Until I let myself think about it.

So, instead of accepting that I enjoyed my dinner and being proud of disobeying her abusive rules, I listened to her and caught up in the confusion over what I had eaten. She has found a way in, that isn’t as obvious as controlling the food I put on my plate or in my mouth. It’s like she’s trying to convince me that I am no longer anorexic because I just ate my dinner. All of it. That I am faking this whole disorder, that I am fraudulent anorexic because I can eat now. The fact I am strong enough to ignore her during (some) meals means I’m ‘cured’.

This is totally the ‘D’ word cropping up, yes, DENIAL isn't it? I know if I listen her and believe her or wasn't aware of what her games are now she has my meal plans to get around, she’d pretty much keep me right here, not challenging myself and under her wicked, wretched watch.

I need to CONSTANTLY remind myself  that my new-found ability to ignore her at times doesn't mean that I no longer have anorexia, it doesn't mean that I am faking this, it doesn’t mean I am dragging it out because I like it (I don’t) it means I am FIGHTING it. 

I need to remind myself to EMBRACE moments when I feel strong and not panic that these moments mean I have lost control over my life, recovery or eating. I need to not let Ana in on these moments and make me feel guilty for having little snippets of freedom from her. Or worse, let her convince me that because I find moments where I feel strong enough to silence her and because I am starting to enjoy and WANT some food, that I am okay.

The more I fight, the stronger I will become, the quiet she’ll be and the easier recovery will get, right?

POEM: The Longer This Goes On

A poem I wrote to remind me of the importance of ignoring the last little bits of Ana's games. How detrimental these little games can be and how they get under my skin.

I need to keep fighting. I need to keep snitching on her to my EDU team and those NBDs need to get switched to VBDs...every time.

The Longer It Goes On

The longer it goes on,

The harder it gets,

The longer I stall,

The less I forget.

The fuller I feel,

And the less I weigh,

The harder it gets,

To keep her away.

The more I hold on,

And the longer I stall,

The harder it gets,

And harder I’ll fall.

I don’t want to listen,

And I don’t want to care,

But whenever I try,

I still feel her there.

There when I think,

There when I talk,

There on the scales

And there when I walk.

She’s there when I try,

And there when I don’t

There when I eat

And there when I won’t.

I take steps away,

I run, jump and hide,

I block out her voice

But she’s hiding inside.

Waiting to grab me,

Waiting for control,

Stood there judging me,

Waiting for my soul.

I’m speaking my truth

And exposing her rules,

I’m trying to fight

And using the tools.

The tools I have,

And the strength I can find

To get back my body

And retrieve my mind. 

(c) S. Robertson 2011

Feeling Hungry?

A recovery affirmation for a Wednesday afternoon from the depths of my journal...

"WHEN I RELAX ABOUT FOOD, WHEN IT FEELS EASIER TO EAT, WHEN I AM HUNGRY AND NOTICE IT IS NOT ME LOSING CONTROL….IT’S ME WINNING" 

AND MY GOD.... I need to remember this and never forget it.  I need to remember that it is okay to enjoy food and for it to be easier and less scary to eat.

That is a snippet of how people function WITHOUT Ana controlling them isn't it?  Yes, these moments are still very rare for me, but I continue to make myself feel bad and guilty about them when they happen anyway, so they feel like bad feelings and thoughts, not positive ones. This is me doing this. This is Ana twisting it. 

Ana has convinced me for so long that these are WEAK feelings, like being hungry.

Really, I know I should be embracing these new feelings, I should be glad I am starting to feel them and I should be AIMING to feel them all the time. Let's see how that goes shall we?

Dearest Body...

Dearest Body,

I know we have never really gotten on have we? I have always given you such a hard time about the way you look on the outside and hated that you wouldn't change for me in an instant.

You have NEVER been good enough for me, never met my high standards and perfect criteria. I have wanted to trade you in so many times over the last 20 years.

I have always bitched about you, poked, prodded and grabbed you, called you names and demanded an upgrade to a better, more perfect, desired model.

But the thing I am sorry about now though is never acknowledging what a good job you were doing on the inside. You really were doing a good job of keeping me healthy weren't you? Despite me not always giving you the high quality nutrition you deserve.

In my efforts to transform you in to some sort of perfection I thought I'd be happy with, I have messed that up though haven't I?

You're obviously having a hard time coping at the moment, I can tell. But I am really, really sorry and I am trying my hardest to sort that out for us.

I promise I will try and begin to accept you for you. I will start to take better care of you, without taking advice from Ana. I hope one day we can be friends, I really do.

Love, S x

POEM: It's Always Been You

A poem I have written recently about accepting how long I've heard Ana, how long I have be a slave to our 'friendship' and about being AWARE of her voice, as a way of separating myself from her. 

It’s you, it’s always been you

Inside my brain

Making me compare

Causing my pain

The frustration inside

The signs

The symptoms

The thoughts

It's you isn't it?

That makes me compare

That tells me I'm know good

That knife in the back

I thought you understood

The guilt

The shame

The food

The blame

It's always been you

Hearing your voice

Listening

That's not new.

The way you attack

Your plan for me

You waited so long

For them to see.

My need for perfection

My desire for control

Your need for power

My weakened soul

My dreams and life

You rip in two

And to Think I believed

And put my trust in you