It’s a daily struggle…

I just needed to take five minutes. Deep breath. Okay. What does Mima really want?

On Saturday, I was overcome by one of those frantic fogs which consume me every now and then, convincing me that I can’t do this. Lunchtime hit me like a tsunami of anxiety. After walking out of the fourth cafe I’d been into in the space of 20 minutes, I was feeling completely overwhelmed.

Anorexia makes even the simplest of things a complete mission, and for me, choosing what to have for lunch on Saturday afternoon, yes, something as ‘mundane’ as that, panicked me.

After I saw the time I went into the nearest café, Costa (not exactly a favourite but anorexia was making me feel anxious about the time getting later and later, so it had to do). They didn’t have anything permissible, but I saw a ‘Goats Cheese and Roasted Vegetable Focaccia’, and to pre-anorexia Mima that sounded okay. But before I knew it, anorexia had assessed that it had far too many calories, so I picked up a lower calorie, dull, dreary looking option instead. I went to pay, thoughts racing, “If you don’t really want this sandwich, why are you buying it? What a waste of calories. Time’s getting on, it’s too late to eat lunch now anyway, just skip it, you’re not really hungry for it. Then you won’t have to trek around finding something when you don’t really want anything anyway; you can make up for it later”. In my panic, I put down the sad looking sandwich, and found myself frantically searching for somewhere else, determined to not let anorexia win and skip lunch altogether.

Pret, that’ll do! Okay, just pick something you like the sound of… eyes speedily searching. Nope, nothing appealed. I knew what I wanted, that goats cheese focaccia, but that was out of the question with anorexia in my ear. Rushing because of the time pressure, I picked up the ham and cheese toasty, that was less calories, so anorexia reluctantly allowed it. As I stood in the queue, anorexia piped up again, “But that’s not what you really want, if you’re going to eat, at least make it worthwhile. Go somewhere you like. Don’t waste calories on that.” Just before the man served me, I hurriedly put it back and walking out of café number 2. I remembered a café up at the top of the hill that I really liked, where my parents and I have had lunch before, Café Lucca. So I rushed up there, got a table, ready to order something ‘worth having’ something I wouldn’t be ‘wasting my calories on’… only to be told that they were delayed and hadn’t set up all the lunch yet, so it would be a while. No good, “it’s too late already, see, why did you bother, just skip it, I told you it would be easier!”, anorexia hissed.

I felt like all the good and positivity of my morning had been swept away in the short space of twenty minutes. “Just go home, you can’t do this, you can’t live independently, why are you even bothering trying, you’re going to fail!” … does anorexia ever give up? Of course not.

I just needed to take five minutes. Deep breath. Okay. ‘What does Mima really want?’, With a lot of might I overrode anorexia and somehow mustered the courage to go back, and get the goats cheese and roasted vegetable focaccia, the thing MIMA wanted. I quickly paid before I could back out. When it was bought over to me, I ate it and it was just what I wanted. The end.

…I wish.

Of course doesn’t stop there, the guilt quickly ensued. So I got out my diary and flooded the pages with all the thoughts darting around. That helped, my thoughts simmered down, and I could get back on with my day. But that, that is the reality of living with anorexia. It’s there 24/7, it doesn’t give up. Every day it tries to sabotage me, it’s just some days I can fight it better than others.