#bulimia

Reflecting on Christmases past, present and Christmas future in anorexia recovery

Rockerfeller tree. ED freedom

This time last year, I was getting both excited and off the chart anxious about surprising my family in the UK for Christmas, with a holiday on the way via New York.

So much has happened over the past 12 months. We couldn’t go and do this now even if we wanted to. COVID-19 has changed everything for everyone.

We were lucky we could make this trip last year. However I think we become increasingly reflective in our recovery. We have to I believe, to make sure we don’t become complacent and let the foot slip off the gas of progress and allow ourselves to slip backwards. SO naturally this means we reflect on where things lie. I have been thinking about last year’s trip a lot these past few weeks, partly because my family bring it up at every zoom chat and partly because we are making plans for this Christmas.

I can see how far I have come during this time. I felt more dread and fear around the whole trip than I did excitement. How fucked up is that?! I have always loved Christmas and a massive dream was to visit New York at Christmas time. My family Christmases have always been epic and I hadn’t spent Christmas with my family for 8 years so it was going to be special.

Uptight and not present…

Seeing the Rockerfeller tree, snow in Central Park, Macy’s displays was magical. But something still felt missing. ME. I wasn’t really present. It was like I was observing someone else experiencing what I’d always dreamed of. I sat feeling the coldest I had ever felt at a Soccer game, worrying about what we’d eat, how I’d compensate. Fixating on what my families reactions would be having not seen me for ages. Worrying about the Christmas dinners, socials it went on and on.

Then the Christmas itself- I felt numb and empty and so sad. It was not the reunion, surprise I envisioned. I was stressed the whole time, controlling everything. I wanted nothing more than to make last Christmas special, happy. But I hadn’t really committed to recovery at this point, so I had set myself up for a difficult time. Which was unnecessary.

Reflecting on progress…Now fast forward 12 months- I don’t act on ED behaviours, we are spending Xmas with friends this year. I have worked hard to be here, I have so much more freedom with each day. I’m not worrying about this Christmas, I’m looking forward to it. Looking forward to being present, being relaxed and not a controlling freak who has to micromanage everything. But this brings me sadness too. I cannot share this with my family. I cannot show them how things have changed. I hate that, the memory that should have been really special I allowed my ED, yet again to dominate, dictate and taint.

This brings me on to my next point, I know in order to get here, to keep moving forward so that I will be able to share happy holidays with my family again, I have to make a conceited effort every day to make positive steps. If you had have asked me 12 months ago, what does recovery mean, I didn’t really have a clue. I remember my therapist asked me to write down what recovery meant. However, I think at the beginning of recovery we don’t know because we are still overshadowed by our ED personality. Not so much our healthy self. I think it’s important to think about this early on, but I’m not surprised my list is different now. For starters 1 thing that is on my list of full recovery means, being able to spend time with family without any ED anxiety, complete freedom. Being able to travel without any compensation, anxiety about eating a different routine. Not being bothered by other peoples comments pertaining to my food, appearance, diets bla bla. So many more.

But in the early days it was two dimensional and clearly written by “HH”: I.e I don’t want to be cold, develop healthy relationship with exercise etc.

I think we grow in every sense as we recover. I have a far better understanding of who I am now. So in short reflection helps us to continue forward.

These would have given me so much anxiety a year ago. Now they’re just yum.

Weight gain in eating disorder recovery

Recovery belly

For most of us recovery means committing to weight gain. Learning to accept our bodies unsuppressed natural weight. Getting there has for me been far harder than simply just putting on weight. It’s weight we were never meant to have lost, our bodies didn’t want us to lose this weight but learning to accept this doesn’t happen overnight. We taught it that losing weight feels good, gaining weight feels bad. We taught our brains to believe “skinny = happy” but we know this isn’t the truth. I was never more unhappy than when I was at my sickest. My emotions blunted, isolated from friends, family and bound by strict rules that my life revolved around. No I was not happy. I was a ghost.

But that doesn’t mean accepting weight gain was/ is easy. It’s going against everything I’ve taught myself to believe is ideal. The weight restoration phase on ED recovery is a small part but is so painful because of our neural pathways and our beliefs and distortions.

Weight restoration is messy. I think if no one has told you, now is a good time to tell you. When you gain weight after waging war against your body, your body no longer trusts you. Whether this is from diet cycling, restriction, purging or over exercising. Your body likes to be in homeostasis and sits at a steady weight when left to its own devices. But when we intervene everything slows down, the body has a massive freak out. It thinks its starving (which in many of our cases it literally is) and when we start eating again the body is like, oh thank fuck. It holds on to everything initially in case we are cruel enough to inflict war on it again. The most common place this extra weight/ fat goes to is the tummy a.k.a the “recovery belly”. You can easily look 6 months pregnant. I look pregnant now. Staving off unwanted comments can be an unwanted side effect. But if this happens it’s because you are recovering and doing well so don’t give in. This is hard. My belly has been here a while and likely It’s here to stay for a while yet. I have made peace with it, doesn’t mean I don’t freak out when I see it in reflections some days. Today has been a hard day. But I know it’s keeping me alive and acts as a reminder to not go backwards and the progress I’m making. I know it will redistribute and if it doesn’t well then I’ll learn accept that too. I did a lot of googling when I started my weight restoration journey and so I expect with time my body will trust me once more, so long as I am kind to it.

Doesn’t matter how much I hated how I looked at my sickest, I was still terrified of weight gain. I have had to and am working very hard on rewiring this fear. By challenging it every day. This has involved many melt downs, sobbing in the shower but it’s so much easier with time as your brain shifts with you. This takes a bit of time.

Ditch the scales..

Ditch the scales. They are not your friend. You should break up with this unloving/ non compassionate partner, it’s a one sided relationship. ( *There may be times where you have to be weighed for medical reasons) this does not mean YOU need to know your weight. If this scenario occurs request it to be blind, because no matter what the number, it will not serve your recovery but it will fuel your ED.

My relationship with the scales was messy, unforgiving. In my depths of my ED, I would live my days by the number in the morning. It would stipulate whether I was going to have a good day or bad day, whether I deserved to eat. I would weigh myself multiple times a day and go to great lengths to do it. In early recovery I used it as an excuse I was making progress. BULLSHIT, I was still using it as an excuse not to gain “too fast”, “too much” this is not recovery.

You do not need to deserve to eat. Eating is a necessity every one shares. Your weight does not define you. It is a number. It means nothing in relation to health, your worth. So ditch them. I binned mine. I have no idea what I weigh now. It’s not relevant because I am getting healthy. Sure in early recovery teams may need to know our weights. We do not. Be free and kind to yourself.

Ditch the things that are holding you back in ED recovery

Fitness trackers. These are not our friends in ED recovery. I do not think anyone with an ED history should EVER wear a fitness tracker watch etc. similarly to the scales my day revolves around steps, calories burned, moving raising my HR bla bla bla. Why would you need it unless training for an Olympic event? I don’t even really see the necessity for my patients because if they have problems with HR etc it’s monitored formally. So like my scales I binned my watch. It wasn’t easy but it will be liberating I assure you.

So I hope if this resonates you can make some changes and move forward. You deserve better. Your worth cannot be defined by a number.

Clothes shopping in eating disorder recovery…

Phases of clothes shopping through recovery is Like “the origins of man” demonstrated by this spongebob gif!

I went clothes shopping last week. No one tells you how hard this experience is in recovery.

I decided to charity shop my “skinny” clothes. I will never need them again. It’s almost like a grieving process. I never liked how I looked at my lowest weight. I was self conscious. But buying small clothes was something my ED used as targets. Although I never felt better when I met them. I actually felt worse and worse, especially when nothing actually fit. When I started gaining weight, “HH” freaked out. Suddenly nothing fit and I felt self conscious all over again.

EDs will try and make you hold on to old behaviors or reminders of it. For me it was keeping these clothes “just in case” but they were holding me back. How can you recover with the thought you might one day fit in the clothes that fit when you are nowhere near your natural body shape or size. You can’t stay there. Not healthily anyway.

Buying clothes throughout the “weight restoration phase” is traumatic. I would recommend if you’re going through it, you don’t do it alone. It’s triggering no matter how far in you are or how committed. I would say this corresponds to the third picture in the gif. You are in no mans land. You’re not in the emaciated shell, you have fat in weird places so it’s hard to find things that fit and feel comfortable.

I went with a friend I could trust and my husband. I asked them to ask me questions like, how I felt in the clothes rather than making comments about appearance or fit. I looked for clothes I’d feel comfortable in at this stage in my recovery where my weight isn’t evenly distributed. Clothes that would accentuate other features that I’m less insecure with. For me this was flowy dresses. I have spent a long time in clothes hiding my weight for the other reason. I don’t want to hide my shape at all now, but I do want to feel comfortable. ‘HH’ longs for the old clothes but healthy me sees it a triumph of how far I’ve come.

You don’t have to like your body, I have become relatively neutral towards it. However uneven distribution, clothes shopping with size tags, mirrors is not fun. I also only bought a few things I really needed rather than a whole new wardrobe.

I didn’t do it all at once and checked in regularly. I talked through my HH thoughts with my psychologist.

Last week I went shopping on my own. It wasn’t that hard. It doesn’t need to be hard. Plan what you need, check in with your support and look after yourself.

Reckon this stage 4th sponge bob on the gif. Powering through, accepting the changes. Grateful for what you can do in your body and with your recovered body. Don’t think it’s necessary to love your body but if you do that’s a win and definitely the last sponge bob on the gif.

My Story.

Chances are if you’ve stumbled upon this page, you’re like me. Searching for answers, help, validation, recovery from an unhealthy relationship with food, body image. Other wise you would not be here. Maybe you still tell yourself , you’re fine and don’t have a problem, but looking for recovery blogs/ sites is not normal. Or, perhaps you know you have a problem with food, exercise, restriction, body image and you want to RECOVER.

There is no shame in asking for support…

Whether you are contemplating seeking help for starting recovery or just needing extra support in recovery, there is NO shame in this.

My mother in-law reminded me of this just this week. I just came off nights. ( I am a doctor). During those nights I received a nightly text from her “ have you stopped and snacked yet, it’s very important munchkin” I am incredibly grateful for this, this love and support really helped in moments where it could have been easy to listen to the ED voice. There are times like nights, times of stress and busyness where I need a little support and I’m not ashamed. On these days I celebrate little victories and focus on gratitude, like how grateful I am to have this person rooting for me.

Eating disorder recovery is hard. It is the hardest thing I have ever done, likely the hardest thing I will ever do.

Anorexia crept into my life slowly and in a surreptitious manner. It took me a long time before I saw it there and I remained in denial for even longer.

I became a hollow shell of myself. My eating disorder overshadowed my entire being.

I started running when I was 11, this was my happy place. I had always been a happy, bubbly easy going child. I first recall feeling uncomfortable in my skin when I was mid teens, following comments from some boys at school about my ‘muscled arms’. It didn’t lead to me doing anything about it and I also didn’t really care about being thin at this time. I suppose the comment began to chip away at my subconscious and wear me down. Eventually athletics training became a way I could hide my disorder.

I remember becoming very health conscious and cutting food groups out of my diet as early as 14, I deemed bread and chips to be “unhealthy” and I cut them out of my diet. I was confused at the time why I was doing this, but I passionately believed this was the right thing to do and I remember telling my parents I no longer ate bread or chips because “I didn’t like them”. The first time I noticed my rigidity was a family holiday and instead of enjoying these foods I refused them despite my best friend at the time and parents trying to persuade me otherwise and I remember feeling “clean” and “good” for refusing. It became an addiction. Restriction became my drug.

This would become my norm and increasing rules and rituals cemented.

I was tired all of the time, I underwent extensive medical tests, yet my eating disorder at this time remained hidden from the spot light. I was diagnosed with a bone marrow disorder and this further overshadowed my eating disorder and fueled my need to control.

I would force myself to attend athletics training sessions despite feeling exhausted. I would eat right before training, knowing full well it would make me sick during the practice, and I would be praised for working hard.

No one could have stopped it happening. And the shitty thing about eating disorders by the time they are recognized they are already entrenched.

It wasn’t until almost a decade later when my eating disorder had robbed me of my personality and my health, I was forced to confront my demons. By now I was working as a medical doctor and there were times where in order to make important patient decisions it would take up any remaining energy I had left.

There were times where my vision would blur when I stood, if I stood for long periods or too fast I would pass out. Still I refused to acknowledge the eating disorder’s presence.

No matter the appointments I attended, the eating disorder was so entrenched in me by this time I was still losing weight. The eating disorder would gaslight me, telling me I didn’t actually have a problem, it wasn’t a big deal. My mental state was deteriorating. The smaller I got, the narrower and more warped my view of the world became.

Threatened with being sectioned I knew I needed to fight for something.

My husband was incredibly supportive and so determined to help me get better. I wanted so much to make him happy and give him back a life, and so I fought. I fought for him until I had the motivation to fight for myself.

Everything goes on hold when you are battling an eating disorder or supporting a loved one.

My husband would leave work at the drop of a hat to attend appointments and support me at meal times.

Life paused because of my eating disorder. The shame and guilt of this is insurmountable and weighs heavy. The only way I could improve this, was to fight for my recovery and get better. And so I fought. Sometimes I fought bite by bite, meal by meal. Eventually it becomes less of a battle.

Sadly there is very little in my history that is unique because those of us that have been through an eating disorder share many similarities.

One thing I am aware of, was my privilege to seek help, when so many others are not so fortunate. It was through seeing this I found a new motivation of recovery, to give back. To use what I had learnt in a productive way to help others. This is one of the reasons I started this blog. Reading other people’s lived experience has been so instrumental in my own recovery.

I was so buried in my eating disorder I believed that was my brain. It’s a brain that goes against everything you believe in and convinces you it’s the only thing that matters. It convinced me my life’s purpose was to count numbers, control my intake, shrink my body and my worth was measured solely on rigidly following these. It made me believe there was no life beyond this.

There were times where, I was terrified of carbs, which became dairy, which became fats and ultimately food. Literally every food group became terrifying. Thank you diet culture, I say with upmost venom behind that.

One of the ways of overcoming my eating disorder misconceptions was learning why I needed each food group. Removing any vocabulary that demonized any food. Seeing all food as equal. Bite by bite this became easier. There are still times where my eating disorder tries to complicate things, to lure me back to believe the fears. I remind myself of my truth and my reason for fighting in these moments. I reject diet culture in all forms.

Developing confidence in my own decisions around food and body and knowing what I am doing has been huge in my recovery. I am no longer being reliant on a team. I am trusting myself more with each day.

Our lives have gradually returned to “normal” if not more enriched for the struggle we have overcome. Life holds so much value to me now, having nearly lost it I’m incredibly grateful to be here.

One of the worst parts of starting recovery was telling my parents. It took me so long to muster up the courage to talk to them about it. I was so afraid of their disappointment, they wouldn’t understand and would make me feel I had done something wrong. One thing I have learned is you don’t need people to understand, because, realistically very few can unless they have walked the path of an eating disorder. Support and love & compassion are qualities that really assist you. Learning to forgive yourself and set boundaries to build your close support network is something I have worked on during the recovery process.

Finding my voice in recovery has taken away much of the eating disorder’s power. It felt like each person I told I regained power. It forced the darkness of the eating disorder into the light. Removing a lot of the secrecy, shame and associated isolation. Having the eating disorder out in the open has forced me to be accountable. Sharing my struggle has given me the biggest gift of connecting with others.

I feel thankful to be here.

There is nothing about recovery I regret other than I didn’t choose it sooner. I promise it is worth the work and you won’t regret recovering.