Recovery Journals Throwback (16th November)

Wednesday 16^th November 2011

I still keep getting these pangs of panic in the pit of my stomach when I think about the amount of calories I am consuming. I have this anxiety that might only take over me for a minute or even a second but it bothers me that it feels like I am out of control. It makes me feel like I am on a one track mission to being fat. I am getting better at noticing these thoughts and trying to switch my thinking and be realistic when I notice, but it is too late once I have thought it and have already panicked. I am trying hard to keep thinking positive and to remember that gaining weight and improving health is good, weight gain at the moment is good, and no matter HOW scary it is, it is needed and vital for my life to move on.

I am excited about seeing XXX tomorrow, but I am also nervous, because it throws my usual routine out because someone will be here. I also feel like I am hard work to be with. I struggle to relax still and just be me, and sit back and talk freely and enjoy my time with friends. I think it hurts so much and I find it so hard to do because it is a clear reminder of the ‘face’ I put on and the act I put on for so long to convince people I am okay. When I do relax or at least make myself make conversation and be sociable, I feel weird, pretending again and that scares me because when everything is ‘okay’, when I manage to keep a lid on my anorexic thoughts and problems and talk about other stuff, and push ana to the back of my mind I feel like I am faking it again when I think about it, talk about it or acknowledge my ED behaviors again. I am worried about going to the cinema, about feeling like I can’t have sweets or just let myself have popcorn from the cinema and I am worried I won’t relax. I am hoping I can, I am hoping that watching the film will help me forget about my ED for a minute.

I want to be me again, I want to be warm (why is it SO cold!) and I REALLY hope the next two days will help not hinder me. I am scared I’ll go into super defensive mode and make a point of negatives not positives to remind people how shit I feel. I don’t WANT to do this. I want to be positive about the future, not negative. I want to NOT feel jealous when she talks about her new job etc. because I need to be happy for her and NOT compare my life. Fingers crossed.

Friday 16^th November 2012 

I WISH I COULD SAY I GAVE A SHIT BUT I feel so tired slash drunk that I really don’t care.

I really can't  even be bothered to write in my journal.

All I will say is that I messed up, I thought id kicked ass, I thought id nail something, I believed for a second that Id done something really good, I totally let myself believe I’d done well, and guess what? I FUCKING DIDN’T. I screwed it – like that helped matters? Like that helps me disprove my own theory of being SHIT. It really didn’t.

I really can't  be bothered to explain, like its relevant to anyone but me anyway, but this is WHY I should not care and should not believe that I am ok or that I will do ok. I won’t. I can't  be arsed to get in to details. I know what I did. But I am not happy tonight and thanks to my own incompetence I probably feel like shit tomorrow as well as feeling guilty for the 100 extra (minimum) calories that my rum has in it. I am fat anyway.

I don’t care if people tell me ‘it’s ok, everyone makes mistakes’ they don’t realise how much of a set back this is, I DARED to believe for a MOMENT I had done well, and I fucked it up.  So I needed the rum, and to throw a knife across my flat, 

I need to not give a shit – I wish I didn’t give a shit but its just THERE in my head making me feel HORRIBLE. JUST GOING ROUND AND ROUND all the time. Every time I think about something -  I go back to not being able to change the fact I messed up.

Not okay in my own skin

Thighs that rub together and look chunky in tights. That feeling of a bra digging into flesh on my sides. Clothes hanging to my bloated stomach that has suddenly become a lot more prominent than it was. A face that is round and sides that are square, not narrow. Thicker. Wider. Bigger. Heavier.

And it’s all my fault.

That’s how I feel right now. I’m confused. Because I still don’t my allow myself many pure carbs, I rarely have sweets or chocolate. I can’t remember the last time I ate a slice of cake but hey, I’m fine. Not. I blame myself because I have stupid greedy habits, like needing mints or sugar free hard boiled herbals to calm anxiety about getting ill. I have jars of dried fruits that I pick at and I drink two hot chocolates a night out of habit and fear of being hungry over night (hangover from strict anorexia) and I don’t rub, I don’t exercise regularly and I hate myself for it.

It occurred to me at the till in a shop the other day - when a white chocolate kitKat caught my eye. Not only would I not buy it, ever. But that there is often FEWER calories in my evening meal than that chocolate bar. Really. This was something I was going to write down like a friend suggested to make a stock take of anorexic habits - that’s one. Fear of snacks other than fruit or controlled popcorns or seeds.

I can’t explain the disgust I have for myself for eating the bits I do without measuring. The dried fruits, the booze or the extra spoonful of cereal. I just want to Bin it all. I realise this is anorexia. I just don’t actually think I have the tools to accept this is okay.

I shouldn’t have seen the scales the other day. They’re playing on my mind. I don’t know how I’ve eaten the same and gained 3kg - unless it’s the booze, mints and lack of exercise - in which case my overwhelming instinct is to STOP The extra eating and actually move more again. I say I don’t like skeletal, I don’t. I just don’t like being this size either.

Thought splurges and avoiding urges...

I often talk about anorexia in the past tense, like "because I battled with anorexia..." or "when I was ill with anorexia..." and so on, but I know WHY I do that, NOT because I consider myself over it, or fully recovered as some people say, but because it's like I have to justify my illness or recovery.

It's easier to say 'when I was ill' than it is to start explaining the fact that I am not critically ill, or acutely ill, or in need of hospitalization or treatment - but anorexia is still there. I am not underweight or particularly have 'that' all-so-stigmatized 'look' but I still have anorexic issues.

Like for instance going for my bone scan today, thanks anorexia, my bones are getting progressively more shit. I had to say I haven't has periods for 6 years, explain the whole anorexia thing, explain I wasn't pregnant (I wish, but that would need a male involvement too!) and then get weighed, and seeing 3kg more on the scales than I roughly thought. Great. 

I'd already had a headful of shit this morning. My old urges to BIN all the food because I don't like having things like dried fruit or nuts in the house because I eat them as snacks, grazing. I was letting the thoughts of guilt about the lack of running or general exercise spin - I haven't had time to and couldn't be bothered. 

I woke up and body checked and stood infront of the mirror with my bloated belly sticking out just asking (out loud I add) WHY the fuck I have to have this SHITTY body and stomach and why my legs feel fat and why I don;t have the motivation to improve it. I also know my improvements lead to weight loss and that doesn't end well.

I think of all the changes I could make to improve my mental health and not feel these things, but those improvements are 1) cutting down on the non-planned meals or snacks 2) regular exercise 3) new clothes that hide me 4) a boob job (seriously considering it) and just generally hiding. But I know these are anorexia's solutions.

Thing is the healthy solutions, like chilling the FUCK out don't seem viable when I am stuck in this half recovery. The still feel shit. I know someone will comment about how therapy would help me right now, but you know what - they said no again. So don't try. Plus, I know the techniques, I know I have to be open to change thought paths and habits - but I haven't got the faith in me or anyone else to do that. I know I made mistakes by making these habits way back, the ways of compromising with Ana to make life livable.  I made this bed and I am going to have to lie in it aren't I? 

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.

(Un)comfortably Numb

There are a few things swirling through my head this morning and I need to get them out: 

1) I feel UNCOMFORTABLE in my skin today, clothes are digging in, they feel tighter, It feels like I have to hide my body, I body checked and 'feel' like a 'barrel' and bloated.

2) I feel UNCOMFORTABLE not being able to identify how I feel.

3) Everything feels a little NUMB.

*Yes, feelings are not facts, blah blah. I know this. 

As for the numbness. My best friend and I were trying to get our heads around this one over coffee yesterday morning. We're both on headmeds, and know that can make a difference to this. In taking out the high anxiety or low mood, they leave us both feeling a little middle-ground, a little, well numb. I can see why they're not always given to people recovering from anorexia though, as for every time they take the edge of anxiety - they take the edge of any motivation to see the NEED to eat more, exercise less or keep myself in 'check' with the lessons recovery taught me. 

But this numbness bothers me - and comforts me at the same time.

Reality is that to me, I am being lazy and greedy recently. I've exercised a lot less, not been for a run for more than two months, I've spent more time at home, doing things like watching TV or pottering around. This feels uncomfortable, but I struggle to find the motivation to put on my trainers or go out.

Don't gasp in horror or shock, it's obvious, but I still track calories more than I possibly should do. Recently, I've been more relaxed about seeing the total at the end of the day rise. A good thing you say? In my head it still isn't. Most people would tell me that I don't consume enough per-day, but in all honesty, I hate a) that it's a high as it is - but I don't know why? b) I honestly feel like I am a secret eater, because my weight isn't going down and c) I assume the secret eating 'tops up' and takes me to RDA. I wish sometimes I could just blurt out how much I eat, what I eat, my weight blah, because it would stop the hypothesise of others'. Yes, I still feel like this five years on. 

"But it's good that you put on weight" said the best friend yesterday...well, it STILL doesn't feel like that to me. It feels like, NOTHING. Numb. I don't want to lose, or gain or think about it. So I block it out. Probably not helpful, but what is? I guess it's helpful that I don't ACTUALLY know what I weigh - I stopped my monthly weigh-ins in November, so of by accident, sort of because I don't like seeing it go up. I am not in a dangerous BMI, I am not overweight. I give and shit and don't care at the same time. 

Many of you know that I went back for a few sessions at the EDU, well they've written suggesting that I DONT need the services, and need to decide my next move if anxiety is the issue. The private therapist I was seeing through my employer can't see me anymore - you only get 6 sessions. The general talking therapies counsellor told me I was too complex (it's how I ended up back at EDU). But the thing is, I can't be arse with any of it, because things are sort of comfortable.

But what niggles at me is that they're sort of comfortable, because they're comfortably numb.

A world of Lions and Zebras

Do you think the most ferociously proud lion cub ever wishes it could just be a zebra? 

I promise I'll get to the point here, but my therapist said something to me this week which has stuck in my thoughts. (I digress, but it's been impacted more this morning by catching up on 'Brainwashing Stacey' - with Big Game Trophy Hunters on BBC3!) and is something that might do me well to put into action, thought wise, not hunting, obviously.

I've always beaten myself up for not being one of 'the crowd'. Whatever that crowd maybe. Way back growing up, I've always been a little different, worried about things other people didn't worry about. 

Proud of things and passionate about things that no one else cared for. Half due to the panic attacks and my mental health - but half because I am me. This ALWAYS bothered me. I have spent 31 years beating myself up about being the 'one that spoke up' or the friend who 'fell out with people she disagreed with' or the teenager that didn't want to get paralytic and throw up. I always thought I was wrong. That I have always been the odd one out and that meant I was wrong.

Even with regards to anorexia, I know there is no 'stereotypical' suffering of an eating disorder, no mirrored recovery, but there is generally a pattern that is evident. I didn't even feel I ever 'fitted in' with that tribe either. I still don't, even when people comment on my blogs, I just think YOU DON'T GET ME. It's not like that in my head, I am fierce, yet fearful. 

It's like I sway constantly between NOT wanting to be in a herd of zebra, to wishing I had stripes. 

In one breath I find myself wishing I blended in. Wishing that I was indistinguishable from another sheep or zebra. Annoyed that they all live harmoniously together. I want to be defined by something decided by someone else, not myself. This can include wanting to be invited to lunch with colleagues, or family, wanting to be the same as everyone else, even though I am the polar opposite to some. 

Then in the next moment I remember I am a lioness. Different, proud and fierce. I feel strong alone. I know what I like and how I like it. I am focused on the way I live my life and think 'fuck the rest'. But the problem is, I only have flashes like this. I spend most of the time worried about my mane or why I can't be one of the herd. I roar and then worry about why that has upset their grazing, and end up wishing I hadn't roared at all. I blame me, for being me.  

But what my therapist said to me this week is a perspective I had not considered before. Lionesses spend time alone, they are animals who need their own space. They are fierce but they care deeply about their own pride. So, do you think zebra, who goes around in herds and NEED those herds, would be comfortable with a lion going for lunch? Would they fear that lion? Maybe, just maybe. what if another lioness came along? Would that cause friction? Maybe. But, it doesn't have to. You each just want to protect our own, but we are alike and can try to understand. 

I guess, what I am getting at is that it is accepting that am a lion whether I like it or not. As a cub I might have been given mixed messages, but I am strong and fierce and that is why I am still alive. 

That is why I was strong enough to escape the herd of zebras anorexia wants from people. Now, it is why I need to remind myself that in life, I need to worry less about what other people are saying about me, thinking of me or doing - and roar. 

Why ARE you here Sarah?

When you have NO idea why you're sat back in the chair of a therapy room of the eating disorders unit, that's not what one wants to hear. My initial thoughts were "because I am a me-me who wants the attention and loves her fake anorexia..." 

Yes, really. Second thought was "I don't know." followed soon after by "...you tell me..." 

I certainly have no idea, that's for sure. Yes, I haven't gained the weight they initially wanted me to. Yes, I still have rules that could be seen as anorexic. No I don't like my body. Yes I do count calories...and no, I don't know why I am here.

What do you want to do? What goals have you got? What do you hope to achieve by coming back?

I DON'T KNOW. 

What makes it MORE confusing and the thoughts I am left with after my second session with Dr K. (the 'new' Mrs W/Dr B) is that SHE doesn't think I need to be there. She thinks I am 'recovered' enough and she thinks my coping strategies are healthy enough for me to live like this FOREVER.

It makes me want to cancel my referral and just keep on dealing with my shit in my own way. Why? Because I don't have any goals. I am not going to kid myself that 'hitting a target weight' is going to be one of my goals. I will not go hop, skip and jumping down the unit corridor motivated to gain weight. I just can't see it. Not is a destructive way, I am not losing, nor bothered about losing. I just really have not got the motivation to do that.

When people ask me, therapist, friends and family, "don't you want to be able to eat X or do Y or believe Z"....well no, I don't really care too much for XY or Z to be honest with you.  I have never enjoyed food, it's since the day dot for me, been functional. I am not a 'foodie' and never will be. 

What I do wish I could work on is believing that I am okay, that I am not ugly or annoying or not good enough. I wish I believed that I don't need to micro-control every part of my life. But more than anything my goal is to know my goals I guess. 

Shaking Up and Breaking Up

For someone who doesn't do very well with change, I seem to be shaking up and breaking up left right and centre at the moment. 

I have been in my very own home for a month now already. People are right though, buying a house is one of the most stressful things I've ever done. But my gosh, when I turn the key and sit on my huge chaise sofa, it's nice and comforting to know it's all mine.

That's shake up No.1. The second is my recovery.

I went back to the EDU for the follow up to my review session a fortnight ago. Another go on the scales. I didn't like that at all. It messed with my month system of weighing in the same place, at the same place that I've had going since I was discharged. Despite not wanting to lose weight and actually wanting to get better - It stabs like a knife when its a different weight to 'my weight' and higher, at that. But I guess the fact the number bothered me, and the controls around the scales, is proof enough that I need what's coming next.

I am now on a longggg waiting list for another dose of  therapy. This time CBT-E. For four years I never worked to a specific type of treatment. The service itself admits that my emergency admission in 2011 meant I never really got the care I needed, and sort of made-do-and-mended with a range of different approaches.

I got the choice of CAT or CBT-E. I actually wanted to opt for CAT, but I was told the latter would be me best chance of kicking anorexia for good. It's going to be a wait and a half now. Time for me to get into a better place on my own so it's not too much of a shock to the system with calorie increases and challenges when I start up.

I am OVER the swallowing my pride stage. I need to do what I need to do to be freed, completely this time. I am stuck in that bid in the middle, Jenni Shaefer calls it 'Almost Anorexic' I think. Holding on to an unhealthy relationship with food. Letting rules and behaviours I was once a slave to still affect me. The thought of gaining weight still stresses me out, even if eating doesn't. But it's more about the fear of 'shaking up' my routine that bothers me.

So, the breaking up bit? Well, after I year, I decide I needed to break up with C. It wasn't working for me anymore. As good as things were, I found myself torn between so many things, I couldn't add therapy in there too. I need to focus on me again. I need to be free to listen to my head, and not feel more guilt about not being a good-enough girlfriend. I will miss his company, of course. I feel guilty for breaking up with him - but at the end of the day. I need to be authentic. I haven't chosen anorexia over a relationship. I have chosen me.

So, in a way, the shake up and break up actually leads to me making up with myself. Good deal that.

Stepping back, swimming forward

Not going backwards, but stepping back in to the eating disorders unit where four hard years were spent swimming through the waves of recovery.

That's what's happening this morning, and honestly, it feels rather strange.

This review has been triggered by starting on anti-anxiety medication, which meant a referral to the EWIS team (the talking therapy/counselling service locally) and the fact that my anxieties are still so wrapped up in the hangover of anorexia - and are "too complicated" for the weekly sessions with their team. Hence, being shipped back to Kinver.

It could be that I walk in the service today and they give me a thumbs up, check the medication is doing okay (I'm still not sure) and let me go. Or they get me talking, realise how much I hold my shit together, how much I cope with DESPITE the negative thoughts and rules I have. I guess you could call it 'functioning' or 'semi-recovered' - whichever, I am not fully recovered. I am aware of that.

I am not going back for a review with any of the team which treated me in the past, it's a psychiatrist I've not met properly before, which makes me feel a bit strange too. Maybe that's a good thing?

I have no idea what will happen or what they will say. But facts are facts, I left services knowing I had weight still to restore, reality is, my weight is less than May 2015. I left as a singleton, I am now in a relationship which throws loads of emotions into the mix which I have promised the boy I will get on top of so I can let him in more. I still have food rules, I still don't like social occasions much, I still have my own little controlled schedule which I struggle to cope with much change too. Yes, I get it - all these are issues. I am aware of that. But I am struggling to see how hearing someone at the EDU TELL me that, will make me change.

I will give it the benefit of the doubt, and I am writing this down to enable me to go in there with an open mind and honesty.

But it feels so weird, yet familiar to go back....which makes Ana pipe up telling me I LIKE that I am going back, that I somehow want to. So, that makes me MORE dubious that this is the right step back to swim forward. I don't want those thoughts any louder.

Stepping back, swimming forward

Not going backwards, but stepping back in to the eating disorder unit where four hard years were spent swimming through the waves of recovery.

That's what's happening this morning, and it feel rather strange.

The review has been triggered by starting on anti-anxiety medication, which meant a referral to the EWIS team (the talking therapy/counselling service locally) and the fact that my anxieties are still so wrapped up in the hangover of anorexia - and are "too complicated" for the weekly sessions with their team. Hence, being shipped back to Kinver.

It could be that I walk in the service today and they give me a thumbs up, check the medication is doing okay (I'm still not sure) and let me go. Or they get me talking, realise how much I hold my shit together, how much I cope with DESPITE the negative thoughts I have.

I am not going back for a review with any of the team which treated me in the past, it's a psychiatrist I've not met properly before, which makes me feel a bit strange too.

I have no idea what will happen or what they will say. But facts are facts, I left services knowing I had weight still to restore, reality is, my weight is less than May 2015. I left as a singleton, I am now in a relationship which throws loads of emotions into the mix which I have promised the boy I will get on top of so I can let him in more. I still have food rules, I still don't like social occasions much, I still have my own little controlled schedule which I struggle to cope with much change too. Yes, I get it - all these are issues. I am aware of that. But I am struggling to see how hearing someone at the EDU TELL me that, will make me change.

I will give it the benefit of the doubt, and I am writing this down to enable me to go in there with an open mind and honesty.

But it feels so weird, yet familiar to go back....which makes Ana pipe up telling me I LIKE that I am going back, that I somehow want to. So, that makes me MORE dubious that this is the right step back to swim forward. I don't want those thoughts any louder.

Riding the recovery waves

I'm here, I'm still here, swimming, promise.

A few people have messaged me asking if I was okay, seeing how the new meds were going, checking that I'm still swimming forward. Thank you for reaching out, all of you. I've been riding waves. 

I'm still swimming, I'm still staying afloat, but it's not been plain sailing. There have been some rough seas and I'm not quiet out of the riptide yet. I'm just thankful, I guess, that I have the strength and skills to keep my stroke going through this. Navigating each wave as it hits me. 

So, what's going on in these waters? 

Well, the first few weeks on the headmeds saw me up and down, feeling emotional and paranoid. I thought I'd made the wrong choice to be honest, should an anti-anxiety drug REALLY be making me worry MORE about what people thought of me? I thought not. However, 50 days in, and I seem to have gotten used to them. Although, I really don't feel much different. I am still worried about the same things, still not fully confident in embracing challenges to anorexic rules, still worried about gaining weight and still not able to relax. 

I went for a session at my local well-being clinic, for some counselling -  that was part of the deal at the Doctors. I get meds and a booster shot of 'How do you feel about that..." And to be honest, blah, they were honest, given the therapy I had at the EDU, there was VERY little they could help me with. I think the word was, "too complex" with anxiety still so connected with the hangover of anorexia, that I was too much for their little brains! So, here goes the referral BACK to EDU. Hmmm. 

That is where I am at. Waiting for my assessment back at the clinic I swore I'd never walk back into. With a psychiatrist I haven't seen before, but am aware of. It all feels a little strange. Weird because I don't feel like I need to go there. Yes, my weight is lower than when I was last there - but am I in the same place? No way. I have bought a house, kept up work, been in a relationship for almost a year and I have been running and not running in balance. Much better.

On the outside. On the inside, underwater, what thoughts often creep up? Well, I worry about my imperfections still, I don't like not planning my food, I very rarely eat out, I still haven't let the boyfriend cook me dinner, I still count calories and worry about over-eating. I don't like change and I don't like surprises. I still worry about what people think of me, still don't like my body. I can be too thin and too fat at the same time. All of the above. In waves.

And that is how I am 'ok' and not at the same time. I am not drowning in anyone of those thoughts. They are not always at the front of my mind, but they come and go in waves. Splashing me in the face and making my nose tingle like when I used to somersault in the water as a little girl. It's little reminders that I haven't fully stepped out of the ocean and on to the shore - however close I get, I just stay in here for one more minute. Just in case.

Maybe this time, a little more help - and my beach hut, warm towel and ice cream cone will be ready at the other side. And I'll walk in and enjoy it? 

Riding the recovery waves

I'm here, I'm still here, swimming, promise.

A few people have messaged me asking if I was okay, seeing how the new meds were going, checking that I'm still swimming forward. Thank you for reaching out, all of you. I've been riding waves. 

I'm still swimming, I'm still staying afloat, but it's not been plain sailing. There have been some rough seas and I'm not quiet out of the riptide yet. I'm just thankful, I guess, that I have the strength and skills to keep my stroke going through this. Navigating each wave as it hits me. 

So, what's going on in these waters? 

Well, the first few weeks on the headmeds saw me up and down, feeling emotional and paranoid. I thought I'd made the wrong choice to be honest, should an anti-anxiety drug REALLY be making me worry MORE about what people thought of me? I thought not. However, 50 days in, and I seem to have gotten used to them. Although, I really don't feel much different. I am still worried about the same things, still not fully confident in embracing challenges to anorexic rules, still worried about gaining weight and still not able to relax. 

I went for a session at my local well-being clinic, for some counselling -  that was part of the deal at the Doctors. I get meds and a booster shot of 'How do you feel about that..." And to be honest, blah, they were honest, given the therapy I had at the EDU, there was VERY little they could help me with. I think the word was, "too complex" with anxiety still so connected with the hangover of anorexia, that I was too much for their little brains! So, here goes the referral BACK to EDU. Hmmm. 

That is where I am at. Waiting for my assessment back at the clinic I swore I'd never walk back into. With a psychiatrist I haven't seen before, but am aware of. It all feels a little strange. Weird because I don't feel like I need to go there. Yes, my weight is lower than when I was last there - but am I in the same place? No way. I have bought a house, kept up work, been in a relationship for almost a year and I have been running and not running in balance. Much better.

On the outside. On the inside, underwater, what thoughts often creep up? Well, I worry about my imperfections still, I don't like not planning my food, I very rarely eat out, I still haven't let the boyfriend cook me dinner, I still count calories and worry about over-eating. I don't like change and I don't like surprises. I still worry about what people think of me, still don't like my body. I can be too thin and too fat at the same time. All of the above. In waves.

And that is how I am 'ok' and not at the same time. I am not drowning in anyone of those thoughts. They are not always at the front of my mind, but they come and go in waves. Splashing me in the face and making my nose tingle like when I used to somersault in the water as a little girl. It's little reminders that I haven't fully stepped out of the ocean and on to the shore - however close I get, I just stay in here for one more minute. Just in case.

Maybe this time, a little more help - and my beach hut, warm towel and ice cream cone will be ready at the other side. And I'll walk in and enjoy it? 

Oh. My. Weight.

One of the HARDEST things about sharing my recovery openly is that a big part of it has never been open. Most people know what that part it and why it's the 'Great Unshared' of those in recovery.

Sometimes I just want to blurt it all out, why? Because NOT talking about it is exactly what anorexia wants. Whether that's the 'shame' the illness makes me feel for gaining - or the 'secret' happiness of it going down - or for me - the relief of it being EXACTLY the same. 

So, this morning was my monthly 'weigh in day'. Still a date with a big 'X' on my diary which plays on my mind, whether I like that or not. It's a morning I dread and over-think more than I probably should the night before. 

I don't have scales, I get myself out of bed early and go to the local leisure centre to use the digital scales (right outside the 0700am spin class and a bustling gym which makes me feel guilty for not being 'so dedicated to fitness. I'll touch on that soon!)

This morning was no different. Same clothes, same routine. Driving there my mind goes over the same thoughts as last month, and the month before that. I set the 'acceptable gain' I won't freak out about....I allow myself the sneaky excitement that it MIGHT have just gone down 'a little bit' and then the most comfortable thought. Just please be the same. 

I step on the digital scales, pop in my pound coin and '"stay still and stand upright" while the machine measures my height and weight. I don't even look at the screen to see. I wait for the print out instead. I hold on to the handles and measure my body fat, even though I have no faith in what that ACTUALLY measures (I always think maybe it'd have a true reading if it could measure the fat somewhere else. Like my stomach not my fingers?)  

Let me put this next bit in context. **Don't read this paragraph if you're easily triggered. I am just being honest** For the last couple of months I have tracked my intake roughly - and generally day-to-day I don't reach 2000 calories, despite knowing I should be, and not being far off, it's not 2000. For those of you who want to know...it's probably 1600-ish. So, if I am NOT at the 'ideal' recovery weight, and I'm under-eating on a daily basis, and doing about two days of exercise a week (one run and one HIIT/Circuit session) my head is jumbled with thoughts as to why I have gained weight. A little more context. 

Anyone well into their recovery or battling on from a relapse will know what I mean when I explain that it's not like the SCREAMS of anorexia when you first start WR, it's more a mix of a thousand-and-one questions as to WHY it's gone up, just wanting answers. Of course, I know it's anorexia asking them. I also have to consciously remind myself I am still slightly short of where I was when I was discharged - and even then I had a couple of kilos to go to hit the 'ideal' initial WR target. Want a little more context? I'm talking about 0.3kg, a POUND. That's anorexia's magic, all those questions, over 1lb. It makes me analyse what I have done to 'deserve' the gain. 

I don't want lie or hold back but know to protect other people in recovery - I do. It also helps to avoid having to explain myself to people who don't get why this is still an issue a year after discharge and almost five years after stating treatment. But it is. 

So I will have to end this here. A pound. 

The downs and ups of life and scales

Or should I be more honest, and say the downs?  Yes, Let's go with that for now. Not downs, as in emotionally, but downs, drops, falls in weight. 

Let me set the scene again, I stopped seeing my dietician Ms. F more than 18 months ago now, I left the eating disorders unit a year later, back in May 2015. Fully discharged after three months of step-down sessions. Back in 2011 when I was admitted in a blur of anorexia, and started the long, long road of recovery, a target weight of 60-odd kilos was floated around, knowing realistically, ideally in their eyes it'd be a bit more.

The bit between August '11 and now is pretty much what this blog is. Let's not go over and over all that and let's fast forward to now shall we?  

When I left the EDU and waved farewell to Dr. B we put plans in place for monitoring my weight, without falling down the trap of getting scales at home. That's been successful and works for me. Once a month I get up and go to the leisure centre and jump on the public scales. Yes, there is still a routine there, I won't eat before hand, I do wear the same outfit and it plays on my mind the week and days before, but it doesn't consume me. 

But it's when we dig down to the facts, numbers, digits and what that means to me, it's where it's less clear than the routine I've now established to gain them.

When I last stepped on the scales at Kinver, my weight wasn't 'quite' where they would have liked it. I stepped off and was very blase with Dr B about being able to push on, fully recover and do the last bit myself. Not blase in a 'I'll get away with anything I want' rebellious, let anorexia takeover way - I don't want that. But more-so in a 'it doesn't matter...it'll happen as life happens' sort of way. Quite frankly, I didn't care. But also had a niggle of 'I'm fine at this weight thank you...' For now at least.

But that's the thing. I was fine at that weight, but I'm no longer that weight. 

It's lower. Whether I like it or not, whether it's intentional or not, whether I think I look it or not, whether I feel it or not. It is lower. 

Now, it's NOT been intentional, but I'm not kidding myself, I feel better about it being lower, than I know I would if it had gone UP the same amount. I haven't consciously sat down, colluded with anorexia and had an urge to LOSE weight. At all. That much I know. But that's also dangerous, because I can quite happily live like that, because I don't feel restrictive and restricted. 

Do I like it? I don't like the fact that I know other people will judge me, and whether they are honest to my face about it. It's just easier to swallow than gains. 

As for thinking I look and feel five kilos lighter than a year ago? Not. a. Chance. 

I just don't, In fact, over Christmas my weight went down slightly again, a few grammes, but still down. But I spent some of December feeling the old, greedy, gluttonous, unhealthy, piggy thoughts. But it was down. Do I BELIEVE the number. Well I am not blind I can SEE a lower number on my little print out, I know the digits are fewer than the ones in November. I get it. But I also don't. 

I have always fallen into the trap that I think LOWER weigh-ins are the anomalies, this has been the case throughout recovery. Gains felt forever, losses felt temporary. I still have this mindset about  my weight and that's how I've wound up here I think. Every month I've told myself it wouldn't be the case next month, so I just carried on the same. Not restricting more, not counting calories any more closely, not eating more, not reducing exercise, but also not increasing it. I KNOW there are things Ms F. and I worked hard to put back in my diet, which since leaving I've not eaten in a 'no big deal' way, I am aware this is how it's dropped. That's were I'm realistic in how recovered I am.

Every month just believing because I DON'T FEEL or SEE anything BETTER or THINNER or LIGHTER in the mirror, because I don't feel any different in my own skin, or feel any more comfortable in my own skin. 

I've just carried on as I was - not trapped, clinging on to ED, but not massively challenging or moving any further away either. Just generally keeping things the same. 

But if we take the cold hard numbers. They are down. I'm not out, but they are down. But the thing is now, what am I going to do about it? Hm.

Changing the game plan

Let's talk team tactics. First you need to realise this isn't just about food or anorexia now, it's my general game plan for life. It's not even about being too defensive of said life and my actions any more. It's not about attacking people for asking questions that's my worst habit. But, my current game plan seems to be a toxic mix of both, which isn't working for me. 

I feel attacked and the need to be defensive, almost all the time. Of course, I do the attacking but with that, I get more defensive too. All this does it create stalemate. No chance for a winning shot. 

I don't understand why I do it. Other than to try and 'protect' myself, like I believe I protect my 'game plan' and keep myself safe, just thankful I'm not losing. Whatever that means nowadays. I know I still don't think my team, plan or predictions are good enough to share with the bigger squad.

All I know is I still don't know how to react when people make suggestions about my life, when people I care about (and who care about me) want to know something about me. I get defensive quickly, like I'm worried that somehow it's all part of a master plan to catch me out or trip me up. The belief everyone has a motive that's on a difference agenda to mine. It can be as simple a question as 'What have you got planned tonight...' and I'll clam up and respond with 'Nothing, as usual, why?' - maybe it's insecurity, that I wish I did have something on - but reality is, more often that not, I couldn't actually face doing anything. It can be anything though, from exercise, to food and from the clothes I chose and the people I see. 

I've always been defensive of my life and actions, that's not new or balanced. But that's part of me. But deep down, let's be honest here, who (or what) am I protecting when I'm ultra defensive over food or eating out? When people suggest I try to eat something new, or question how I am weight-wise. That's the bit that sits uncomfortably - and it's when I am most likely to attack. 

I realise if I am going to let new people in, to allow people to get to know me - the real me - I am going to have to change my game plan. And maybe even let an assistant coach make some of the tactical decisions once in a while. 

I don't want to manage the whole lot on my own any more. I want to have a real team and not feel like it's Sarah vs the World. But it's been so long out on the field on my own, I've sort of forgotten some people are on the same side as me. 

Although there's still one player on the field that's not really in it for the team. 

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. 

Living and learning to live

The formal period of recovery may be over, and the mass handover of notes and graphs completed, but that doesn't mean the process of recovering is done. 

It's now six weeks since I was discharged from services, and I've not looked back. It almost feels surreal that I spent so many hours, days, months and years in hospital. In all honesty I have to pinch myself that I was ever that ill to need that care (another trait of anorexia there!) 

Each day still feel like a lesson in recovery. And it generally is, I am both student and teacher. 

I can't say I think about anorexia much at all, but that is not to say I feel completely eating disordered free. I know deep down I am still learning to be honest with myself and others about thoughts and food rules. 

My GP has prescribed me AdCal for my bones and Norethisterone to 'kick start' my periods (which I'm scared to start taking, so haven't yet!) and when I told him my weight, he suggested I should finish restoring it. Nope, thanks.I am okay like this. For now. 

That, I know is still eating disordered. But it doesn't consume much of my life. I just don't think about it. The same as weighing myself. I'm proud I've stuck to just monthly weigh ins at a local supermarket. My weight has been stable since discharge, but the 200g 'gain' last month did 'annoy' me. Not that I did anything about losing it - nor was I proud. It's just one of those things. I also can't get my head around upping fat in my diet for muscle development in training. Not sure I even want to. I don't subscribe to all that #girlgain crap. I just do what I enjoy. Running outside, Guerrilla with friends and the occasional PT with my awesome trainer Gaz. 

Do I still body check, yes. Do I let the outcome, good or bad, affect my food. No. I just get on with it. Does other people talking weight loss, diets and 'bad foods' make my head spin a bit. Yes, it does. I envy them and don't like it when they're on 'healthy eating' - but do I know WHY it grates me. Yes. So I deal with it and try not to resent them for it. 

My younger sister, me and best mate at a recent colour run!

Despite this, talking to another post-recovery anorexia sufferer recently made me also realise how much I don't actually identify with people trapped by theirs any more. Which is scary and amazing at the same time. Being in that web really doesn't feel anything close to where I am at. I can barely remember being that ill. That doesn't mean I don't feel guilt or nerves about certain foods or situations, but I am firmly the one in control. That's key. 

Truth is I am still learning, and always will be. We all are at the end of the day. 

Farewell, it's been emotional. But I'm not.

Almost four years after being shipped back to my home town under the cloud of confusion of the deadly downfall into my eating disorder, I'm here. I've reached the eve of my farewell to the hospital that's helped me save my life. 

I had no idea it would take so long, after all, back then I didn't even believe that I was ill at all, let alone be as ill as I was. Four years ago my eating disorder had swallowed my entire life. I was desperate, trapped, holding on to something I thought was the answer to all my worries, problems and desires all wrapped into one. Oh, how wrong I was. 

It's been a rocky road, like anyone who's recovered from anorexia will understand - and anyone who's supported a friend or family though recovery will recall. It makes my head spin to sit here tonight to try and sum it up, it's almost impossible, so I won't really begin. It's been horrible, painful, agonising, confusing, amazing, eye opening, exhilarating and extremely emotional. And everything in between. 

Although on the eve of my discharge from the unit, I'm feeling anything BUT emotional about it. 

I always thought I'd be feeling like I understood myself at this point, like I'd really hit a milestone, that discharge would be like a dissertation or something. Like I'd get a big tick, a mark, feedback on how I'd performed. That I could call it a success. Complete. But it's not like that.

My appointment is actually before work tomorrow, I'll probably go, be asked how I've been during my three months without treatment (I've done okay actually) I'll ask lots of questions, be asked lots too - and not really know how to answer. Then that will be that I guess, 

To be honest, I feel guilty about not being as upset or emotional about not seeing them again. My gosh, when Mrs W left, I was an emotional wreck. but I guess that's the whole point, back then my life was my eating disorder, then my life was my recovery and now that level of emotion has gone from the process. 

Life has sort of been cross fading from the last four years into my future. 

I was always told I would begin to use the tools I've been taught by my team on my own eventually. I never believed them. But now it's starting to make sense. The more I use them, the better skilled I'll become at getting through life, carving my own way. There is a sense deep down that the reason I'm not nervous about moving on is because I don't think my use of these tools have REALLY been tested yet - so I don't really know how I will react. But I will live and learn how to soon enough I guess.

I know that I've not had to deal with weight gain on my own yet, I still don't eat the foods I find challenging very often. I know that I avoid stressful food situations and need to be in control of most of my meals. But as a friend said to me earlier today, I am aware of my behaviour, and know what I am doing and where the line is. And he's right. I fully understand when the tools need to be used. It's only when I step through the next entrance, only when I walk this path that I'll learn how to use them like a pro. 

So, whether tomorrow ends up being an emotional affair or not, it will finally be farewell. A door closing on that chapter of my life. That much I know. 

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. 

Festive frustrations and Christmas confusions

There's no doubting this Christmas has been easier than the past three years, less anxiety, fewer tears and more conversations. I was more 'there' than not there, no meal plans and less 'escaping' to my room for a time out. 

Despite all that, it's not felt fully jolly...because of eating. 

The anxiety and tears of yester-years was replaced by frustration, doubts and confusion. And if I am honest, I spent time in the run up to the big day - and the big day itself - wishing I had the control I used to have not to be hungry, not to eat the stodgy food and to say away from the buffet. 

People often talk about recovery and the freedom to eat chocolates, crisps and nuts being liberating and making them feel great. Like they're fixed and recovered. Like their defeating their eating disorder and living. I've tried that. But I'm afraid I don't feel that and I'm not sure why. 

Maybe it's having food cracked to an extent for so long, that's made it less 'exciting' to treat myself or maybe it's not as cracked as I think. I haven't eaten a full mince pie this year. Because I know I like them. But what if I don't want more foodie freedom?

Eating or not eating a mince pie, a slice of cake or having a roast potato makes me feel indifferent. But I'd rather feel better for not having it - or choosing a new potato instead. I've eaten the cake, and it didn't make me feel free. It made me wish I hadn't cause it wasn't worth it. 

I think I'll feel great for choosing a white bread roll over some crackers, because anorexia does hate white bread- but I don't. Fitting in with people around me eating crap and not caring. Normal right? No, not for me. Maybe I just don't like eating like that. I get annoyed at myself for feeling like I have to - or should, so I do and then get stuck in this confusion. 

I can't shake the feeling of needing to 'fix' what I've messed up this Christmas. But eating food I didnt need or particularly want. I just ate it because it was sort of there and I felt like I had to be 'more normal' this Christmas. 

But I don't feel stupidly guilty. Just annoyed at myself. And also guilty about not being REALLY guilty about it. I feel frustrated that I will have put on weight, but not frustrated enough to make myself go exercise-mad or drop my calories to lose weight which then adds more frustration that I am not driven to change what my head tells me will 'fix' it all. 

Maybe I just know losing weight doesn't fix it all. 

But then again, eating more freely isn't fixing me either.