I’m coming to the end of a good few weeks in Day Service. And this time I’ve done some of the things I wanted to do over a year ago and didn’t manage. Behaviour changes. Weight gain. Food rules. And what strikes me is how messy the process has felt so far, and how lost […]
I think of anorexia as a bit like ivy. In the same way that ivy works itself so well into a wall, that you don’t realise what a good job it’s done until you try to remove it, anorexia creeps into everything. It takes up all your space. Anorexia edges into the existing vulnerabilities that […]
This post was contributed anonymously. The writer describes how her GP went beyond the call of duty to support her recovery from an eating disorder during her time at University.
“For weeks, I’d been considering approaching a GP about my ‘eating problems’, but kept delaying it as I didn’t feel ‘sick enough’. I didn’t know any of the GPs at my local practice either. However, I went along one morning and upon enquiring about appointments, was offered a same-day appointment with a GP. I accepted it with mixed feelings. I remember walking into his office later that afternoon and promptly bursting into tears. This GP was very astute and immediately sensed that something wasn’t right. He took me seriously, listened to what I had to say, and was adamant that I was not wasting his time despite my protestations otherwise. He was very ‘switched-on’ to the dangers of anorexia and took great pains to emphasise these. When I came back to see him after two weeks with no improvement, he referred me to secondary services. Continue reading
I always say no one chooses an eating disorder, but a part of me definitely thinks it’s somehow ‘my fault’. I especially think it’s my fault for still being stuck with it at this stage. I know better, I should be able to do better. I am sure at least some people in my life think this too. I thought recovery would be relatively easy. That the reason it hadn’t happened so far is because I chose not to rather than couldn’t. Once I acknowledged to myself – and others – that actually, I’m not ok, I expected I’d just be able to drop the restriction, manage the guilt, the thoughts. I’ve discovered over the last few months that (even with great support from professionals, family and friends) it really doesn’t work like that. Recovery seems to be less about ‘letting go’ and more about wrestling your way out of something you’re so entangled in you have no real idea where you end and it begins. Continue reading
I’ve been having a bit more support for my eating disorder recently. This means more time away from work, absence which will definitely impact on my colleagues. I feel I owe the people I work closely with an explanation about where I am disappearing to and why. I also won’t see many members of my team for a while, and (if all goes to plan) I’ll look noticeably different when they do next see me. I am still fairly private at work (and in general) about my ‘issues’, but during the last year conversations about food and weight have gradually become part the normal fabric of life with my partner and close friends. Not so long ago I couldn’t say the words ‘eating disorder’ or ‘anorexia’ without becoming overwhelmed, so the talking is definite progress, even if I do feel ashamed and guilty, hate that it is necessary and feel horribly embarrassed that I find certain things so difficult the stage of life I’m at. I don’t know if anyone actually gets how embarrassed I feel every time I try to ask for help, help I don’t think I should need, can’t judge how or when to ask for, and can’t always say what I think I actually might need.
In recent times, it seems that what we eat has gradually become synonymous with morality. The Hemsley sisters and Deliciously Ella cheerfully sell us the idea that if we cut out this or that, we too can be glowing, smooth skinned and full of peace. To ‘eat clean’ has become synonymous with self care, in spite of the heavy marketing (which should make anyone sceptical) and lack of science.
Because people do, don’t they. Even those who know us well and would call themselves friends or colleagues. Or maybe it’s just me.
Part of the challenge is that I have been MUCH more open about my eating disorder recently. For years, no one in my wider life, including work, had any idea. If I weren’t trying to change things, I could have continued this indefinitely. But keeping things private at work wasn’t an option if I wanted time off for therapy. So far, my manager has been supportive. The work friends I’ve been open with continue to express confidence in my ability. I suspect I’m fortunate. It’s no secret that mental health services haven’t always been great at looking after their own. Continue reading
If you’re recovering from an eating disorder and are underweight, you really can’t get away from the fact that weight gain is an inevitable part of the process. It’s definitely the most ‘visible’ part, and often the element that people focus on most. At the same time, we often hear that it’s really not about the weight. It’s true that weight gain alone definitely won’t fix everything, although it may shift some of the rigidity that is secondary to ‘starvation’. But the uncomfortable truth is that for me at least, gaining weight may make some things worse, before they improve. This may not be the case for everyone, and I’m definitely not saying it isn’t worth it.
I’m feeling fairly determined at the moment. It’s unexpected, considering how I wanted to sink into the ground after therapy this morning. Part of the problem is that professionally, I know the answers, certainly in relation to managing anxiety. But I can’t always apply this to myself, and it sometimes gets in the way of my ability to challenge ‘food rules’ as much as I need to.
So this is an attempt to capture some of this unexpected perspective, as a way to (hopefully) refocus and provide an outside perspective when ‘eating disordered’ thoughts feel consuming and all too reasonable.