What’s Eating You? – Eating Disorders

Perseverance. The tendency to give up when the going gets tough is one that consumes us whenever we are faced with a daunting challenge. It takes a lot of willpower for someone to follow through with a difficult task despite there being seemingly no end to the ever coming trials. Without the desire to soldier on we abandon our trail, leaving us hopeless and somewhat frustrated with having wasted our precious time. Anything is attainable if we set our minds to it. To prevail, it requires determination and even should you not come out on top, you can personally commend your efforts for having tried. It is easier said than done to feel pride in your performance if you receive no gratification, but the simple knowledge that you did not surrender when those around you most expected you to, can be satisfaction enough; success is far sweeter when the challenge has been full of tribulations. Overcoming your vulnerabilities shows strength within you no matter how trivial it appears to others. Since publicising my journey, many brave people have come forward in admission of their own hardships with eating disorders. I admire these people. They show courage. They show determination. They show that recovery can be possible.

The last month has been my most testing since developing my eating disorder due to the numerous trips away from home. I was expected to have gone either of two ways; I would not eat a sufficient amount or I would over indulge and begin to binge-eat as a compromise for the loss of control (this is common in eating-disorder sufferers). When I cannot judge what a correct portion is, what is to stop me going either way? My deepest fear is of beginning to binge eat, as I seriously crave decadent foods. I fortunately yet surprisingly managed to settle myself into a happy medium. It is not to say that I have found it easy in any way, shape or form, nor does it indicate that I have fully recovered from Anorexia. After the short week away in Paris with my sister I embarked on a week holiday to Lanzarote with a very close friend of mine. I was not worried about the food aspect prior to going away, as she was the very first person I had eaten out at a restaurant with and she was extremely understanding of the condition. We clarified beforehand that we were very similar in the way we are early risers who eat breakfast, lunch and dinner and enjoy a cocktail or two- to me any calorie laden beverage be it alcohol or fruit juice seems like a ‘waste’ of calories – at a bar but are not particularly ‘party animals’. In that respect we were perfectly suited to go away together and handle my Anorexia.

My Anorexia decided to rear its ugly head for the first time in a long time as I let it somewhat possess me on the first evening. I was comfortable with the fact we were staying in a self-catered apartment and therefore knew I could retain some of my control over my meals. However, our early arrival meant that our room was not ready and so we would have to eat our lunch at a restaurant. We started the holiday off with a large celebratory cocktail- I forced myself to have my favourite pina colada despite it being made with coconut cream- though they were unfortunately not to our taste. I usually hate waste and the feeling that I have misused my money by leaving anything. But when my friend merely drank a sip of her own cocktail, I could NOT bring myself to drink much more of my own. Later at a cheap restaurant we ordered the same thing, going for fish with my mum’s words of ‘the least fattiest meat is more fatty than the fattiest of fish’ swimming around my mind, so I had no qualms about eating a heavy restaurant lunch. Then the dish came out. The vegetables were coated in butter and the fish was drenched in olive oil. It was in fact tasty- not that I would ever admit it out loud- but the taste of so much fat was overpowering. I made myself remember I had not had a snack during the day and so this would make up for it. Yet that evening was a different story. The combination of a lack of sleep, home sickness, a loss of control, a ‘fatty’ lunch and my friend not eating breakfast created an environment full of tension for me. Again my friend and I ordered the same thing, chicken fajitas. However, when it became clear that after filling her first wrap that she would have no more, I knew I had not eaten a satisfactory amount that day to only have the one myself. I kept asking her whether she would eat more and she assured me she would, but she just picked at her virtually full plate of chicken whilst I felt compelled to fill another wrap, whilst observing her like a hawk. After my second wrap I had a panic attack. I felt greedy and weak for eating what I felt was twice as much as her (the Anorexia decided to disregard the bread roll and butter she had eaten at both lunch and dinner).It was not my friends fault, she had eaten to her capacity, but I could not help but resent her for not having had another fajita. I realise now just how accommodating my family are with me; they will eat to comfort me.

Other than that first night, I had no further problems eating. I would have my usual bowl of porridge with water in the morning followed by a light lunch and then dinner at the restaurant in the evening. I went for dishes that I wanted and not according to what my mind felt had the least calorie content. It was easier for me when I did not eat the same as my friend as it meant I was not provided with a direct comparison of how much ‘more’ I was eating than her. I felt safe and happy enough to indulge with ice creams and Nutella crepes but only because my friend did. As with my sister in Paris, if she could do it then so could I. She supported me a lot throughout the holiday and reassured me that we were eating healthily and that I did not look too skeletal in my bikini. There was the constant worry at the back of my mind however, that I was being over-indulgent. The mere idea that I was eating restaurant portioned food every evening and a dessert led me to imagine I would be gaining weight at a both alarming and uncontrollable rate. I know I still need to put on around 4kg more, but the closer I get to my target the more worried I get that my weight will not stop soaring. My return home was fraught with anxieties about how much weight I might’ve put on (it turned out I have in fact only put on around 200g) and so when my mum suggested pasta for dinner I broke down in tears saying I was uncomfortable with the rate at which I was gaining and that I felt I had been over eating the past few weeks and therefore my upcoming 10 day holiday to Mexico was daunting. I ended up having only a tomato for dinner.

Though it may sound like I have regressed to some degree, I think I was simply overwhelmed by the number of challenges I had been able to overcome in the past few weeks. I have drunk alcohol, I have ordered regular meals off menus, and I have eaten at a regular pace… Most importantly I have enjoyed myself. Since being home I have been out socialising seeing people I had not seen in a year. I was very apprehensive and somewhat embarrassed about the fact that they had most likely read my blog and the last time they had seen me I was unbelievably frail-looking. I had no reason to fear it as I was accepted back with open arms though we skirted around the subject. It was not mentioned once however awkwardly it was looming over our minds or on the tip of our tongues during conversations. When a discussion struck up about anti-depressants I did not mention my struggle with depression and consequent consumption of this medication, as they were making pleasantries about how it merely concerned suicidal thoughts. Though it was certainly not intentional, I was made to feel ridiculous for being on anti-depressants myself at such a young age when I should be care-free. This served to reinforce my belief about mental disorders being a social taboo subject and has made me more determined to get my views across. I wish I did not have the need to explain myself but why should I be made to feel embarrassed?

On one particular night on holiday, I observed a large man sporting a t-shirt with the slogan ‘I beat Anorexia’ as an ‘ironic joke’ on the back. Though in hindsight I do realise it was all a bit of fun, as this man clearly enjoys his food and has never suffered from an eating disorder, I do not understand why someone would make a joke of it. If I had never been through Anorexia, then maybe I would have found some humour in it, but I have and so I can’t. No one would dare make a joke of physical illnesses for example if an extremely hairy man wore an ‘I beat cancer’ t-shirt; it is NOT socially acceptable and is simply foul ‘humour’. So why do we think that we can do it about eating disorders? Initially I did not mention my anger, but I have since not been able to ignore the crushing sense of having been made fun of. Anorexia is serious and it should be treated so.

Throughout the weeks I retained the idea that you only live once and that I should make the most of the here and now. I must remember that despite the fact that I have eaten out an immeasurable number of times, I was never greedy or over-indulgent. In my mind restaurant food holds a notorious reputation of being fatty, but this is so far from the truth in high quality restaurants. With this in mind I have been able to continue on my path to recovery. I only really began the recovery process in January and I can now see how far-with the help of my supportive family- I have come. It serves as a lesson to us all that when all hope seems lost and you feel no one believes in you, to just remember that you are not alone. Many of us find solace in someone dear to us and this motivates us to persevere. If you feel you cannot do it for yourself then believe you can do it for others. I’m in recovery for my family, my friends, fellow struggling sufferers but above all for my future.

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