'Success is failure turned inside out'...
I’m not sure where to begin when there’s so much to say. Really, I’m not sure that any words come close to the pain that I’ve felt this year, especially over the past three months.
At the end of August, I flew out to South Africa. I boarded that flight with so much hope and faith, believing that this really was my ticket to freedom. Turns out, there really is no magic cure for Anorexia. Despite being met by some of the kindest souls who encouraged me and fought my Anorexia, I still couldn’t let go, and it was decided that I must return home. Once again, my Anorexia had won, it had stolen another opportunity from me, but this time it wasn’t just an academic loss, missing out on a university experience, or a holiday abroad with friends, it was a lot more than that. The well part inside of me, that sparkly Mima bit, sunk down further than ever, feeling that I had just cost myself the one shot I had at being rid of this relentless illness. I didn’t feel relief as I sat in that airport, I felt immense disappointment. I knew all the people I had let down, but most of all, I knew I had let myself down.
I’ve had a several rock bottoms in my life, but this time I didn’t enter treatment from a place of rock bottom, instead I entered it thinking that I had my eyes wide open, I knew my reasons for flying out to Imani so nothing would stop me. Naive? With hindsight, yes. I wish it wasn’t true, but I actually think there’s a lot of wisdom in the saying that rock bottom can become the solid foundation on which you can rebuild your life. It was only after leaving Imani, that I hit my rock bottom, bottom.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt this low and I’m scared. I’m scared I’m going to end it all. I can’t see a way out. Everything’s fallen apart, I’ve pushed everyone away. I’m scared and I feel so alone. I just don’t want to be here anymore’.
‘Tears streamed down my face as I told Mummy. “You can’t do that darling, don’t say that. It would destroy me”. Mummy rarely cries, but her face was flooded with tears. “All I’ve ever wanted is to get you better, I would do anything to get you better. Please don’t give up.”’
‘Thing is I still have so much I want to give this world. I don’t want to leave it yet. I just can’t see a way through all this mess.’
But somehow… four months later I am still here, living and breathing. I’ve not written on here in a long time, partly due to not knowing where to start, but mostly due to shame.
*And breatheeeeeee*
I thought I would start by sharing some snippets of my diary from South Africa, in the hope that it might help shed some light on the internal battle that was going on inside my head at the time, on the complexity of the rational side vs the irrational side. On just how hard Anorexia fought back, and just how hard I tried to retaliate.
‘I’m here at Imani. Fucking hell it’s HARD. The kind girl I’m sharing a room with quietly tried to help me before the shutters came down but then complete overwhelm’.
‘This is what I wanted, others to do it for me for a bit so… you asked for this Mima. Now don’t let the food fool you out of why you’re here. You need to do this!’
‘Whys this SO hard? Why can’t I just surrender?’
‘But you said you wanted more help? Now you’ve got more help you won’t accept it? Huh? You have to sacrifice some things to recover Mima! One of which is the food control, the second is weight control.’
‘It’s not that they’re not kind, it’s me, it’s this illness. It turns me into someone I’m not and it scares me. Why do I let it reduce me to this? Where’s my fight? Surely you’re more scared of being stuck this way? Aren’t you Mima? You said you’d do your bit – you’re not doing your bit! Come ON Mima! Come on. Please FIGHT. Please.’
‘Listen to Beth, “if it’s edible you’ve gotta eat it!”’
‘You don’t want to live with Anorexia. This is the rest of your life you’re jeopardising and for what?! Some milk in the bottom of your cereal bowl? Some stringy cheese in your soup? Are you serious Mima?!’
‘They truly care, Beth was right and I witnessed it tonight. The RA sat next to me and willed me on, “You can do it Jemima!”. She told me she believed in me. That she’s in recovery and is 10 years clean. She said, “I’m not going to pretend some days are fucking shit! And anyone who tells you otherwise is lying! But you CAN do it! Take it day by day and lean on our hope when yours is low”.’
‘”You don’t want to be like this. If you want to get to the best version of yourself you need to get better. It’s like the devil Jemima. You need to say “FUCK OFF! YOU’RE NOT STEALING MY LIFE!”. I looked her in the eyes and could see the trust and hope pouring out of them. “You really can do it love, you can”, she gave me a big hug. I don’t think they know the difference they made tonight.’
‘So I’d been a grumpy shit all morning. Then went to the NA meeting. Arrived in this cold run-down church hall thing and started judging how useless it would be, how I didn’t need to be there. ‘None of these people are like me’ ‘I don’t have an addiction’ etc. Everyone has to introduce themselves, saying your name and that you’re an addict. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, ‘I’m an addict’. Thoughts racing, ‘you’re not an addict Mima! Why are you even here?! You don’t belong here’. My judgemental critical voice was so loud. I sat there cold and introverted shut off from everyone else. Then the guy who was in the ‘chair’ shared his story. And it got my attention, so I listened, and the more I listened the more I could see how his addiction to cocaine had such likeness to my Anorexia. The same way he felt he could control it even though every time it landed him in treatment or prison, it’s the same with my Anorexia, here I am again, seven years later in another treatment centre because this IS an addiction Mima. His story resonated and the more I listened the more I could see how judgemental, unkind and unfair I was being. To sit in a room and judge all those around me, ‘they’re worse than me’ etc. Mima you’re fucking INSANE!!! You’re still telling yourself that your way works, that you don’t need this help like others around you when you’re the only sat refusing to eat. Mima you are INSANE! This illness is INSANE.’
‘STOP being a fucking idiot Mima! STOP fucking around.’
‘The nurse came up to me after, “Ay Jemima, I’m proud of you. You’re improving, one step at a time!”, I said, “So I’ll be discharged on Monday then?”, the Dutch guy piped up, “Monday next year you mean!!!”. That made me laugh.’
‘She gently put her hand on my back, “it’s okay babe, it’s okay”, as tears fell down my face outside in the cold air. I said, “I just HATE this illness SO much” and I do, and that’s why I’m here, because just as she did tonight, hand on my back. I need support beating this thing.’
‘”Do you want to spend the rest of your life like this?! Come on you CAN do it! If I can, you can too!”, something in what he said in that moment got through. “Use these months to beat this motherfucker” he said.’
‘”You’ll get better I just know it. You’ll make a difference to so many people’s lives but you can’t do that until you’re better yourself. You HAVE to get better. And you CAN. I know you CAN. I will fight it with you. I believe in you”. She was so kind, “remember me when you’re professor Hepburn, remember me!”. We smiled. In that moment there was a silent agreement – if you do your bit I’ll do mine.’
‘Lunch came and was like someone had projectile vomited on a plate. So grim. She sat with me upstairs but I was already unreachable. I was gone. She was talking to Anorexia, Mima had disappeared.’
‘I didn’t fly half way across the world to let Anorexia win. It’s already taken too much. I will NOT settle for the half life. I won’t. I can’t let myself down like that. I have so much to give this world. Way too much to give my life to Anorexia.’
‘I just read my life story. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. She said, “I feel absolutely certain this is the place where you belong right now”. I couldn’t hold it together anymore I just burst into tears. I’m so tired of holding it all together. I need to let people in to get better.’
‘’One of the girls sat with me, she was so kind. I went outside to sit on Beth’s bench and she quietly followed and gently asked, “do you mind if I sit here too?”. I could see her in the corner of my eye sat in the chair, she was in it with me, ‘you don’t have to be alone in this Mima’.’
‘”I suspect you’ve not had a voice for most of your life, it’s time to find your voice” she said. I started crying, he just hugged me and reassured me, “the tears are okay, it’s okay Jemima”.’
‘She said she didn’t think I was ready. My heart sank but I couldn’t find words to say it. She told me to take care of myself and hugged me goodbye.’
As my plane landed at Heathrow, I was met by Daddy’s unconditional love which only compounded the anger I already felt towards myself, ‘how could you be so selfish Mima? You’re not only hurting yourself you’re hurting those you love most’. Thing is, no amount of self-hatred, anger or resentment can stop Anorexia, in fact it only seems to drive it stronger.
‘They were so willing to help me, where did it go so wrong?! How did I get from there to here? Problem was my shutters came down and I couldn’t get them back up. Anorexia arrived with me and shut down any glimmer of the real Mima. The Mima who knows she can do it. The Mima who wants more than anything to be well. The Mima who cares so deeply for other people’s feelings. The person who sat there selfishly ignoring how difficult she was making it for everyone else there fighting the very same battle, but just getting on with it, that person wasn’t me, it wasn’t Mima. It was Anorexia, and just as Kerrie said, “Your Anorexia is extremely powerful”. It is, it pushes everyone away, even the best help in the world.’
‘I don’t think I can go on. I can’t take anymore.’
That familiar unkind voice already began berating me, ‘you should be ashamed’ ‘you’re such a let-down’ ‘what a failure’ ‘just give up!’, thoughts impatiently flooding my head 100mph.
STOP Mima. Just STOP.
Writing this wasn’t an excuse to tear yourself to shreds, we both know you can’t hate yourself better. Writing this was a chance to be honest, to shed light on the behind the scenes and to be proud of how far you have come since September; the very fact you are still here, that you didn’t give up even when that felt like your only option (that was NEVER an option Mima!).
I may not be able to undo the past three months; my actions, my regrets, the hurt I’ve caused and the pain I’ve felt. But I can choose what I learn from it, how I allow this experience to change me, and help me exist in this world more authentically, for the better.
Anorexia managed to push everyone away, friends, family, my treatment support, everyone who mattered to me most, I felt like I had lost it all in one fell swoop. All my hope had gone, and so had all the people who usually hold it for me whilst I wait for it to return. I felt entirely responsible, not only for failing at Imani, but also for the devastation of my parent’s marriage which I returned home to. I lost sight of my hope, and the scariest part was I couldn’t even see it returning; believing Anorexia’s lies had cost me my hope and nearly my life too at this point as I couldn’t tolerate the pain I felt so responsible for.
Why did I fall for Anorexia’s lies? Why didn’t I believe Imani when they said that either I listen to them or I listen to Anorexia and book that flight home. Why did I fall for it once again? Anorexia never fulfils it’s promises why did you fall for it Mima? I could sit and rehash why time and time again, but I know what happened at Imani. My Anorexia showed up and pushed back harder than ever determined to shut down the Mima that boarded that plane, the Mima that knows she can get better. For the first time in a long time, probably since being up against PT at Orri, Anorexia knew it stood little chance of winning against the team at Imani, so what did it do? It showed up stronger than ever.
I wish it was as simple as not leaving any room for Anorexia to fit into my suitcase, but sadly it just doesn’t work like that. I’m writing this as I re-pack the very same pink suitcases that I boarded that plane with, but don’t worry – I’m not flying anywhere else! I’ve learnt that lesson! I’m actually moving back to London tomorrow, as I begin to pick up the threads of life again. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious, I am pretty bloody anxious right now, but the biggest lesson I’ve learnt in the past three months is that I can depend on myself, that no one can do it for me; even the best help in the world couldn’t do it for me.
At my lowest, I read this quote, ‘Success is failure turned inside out’ (I’ll copy the poem below). It was this poem that willed me to not give up, to hold on, to see what could be possible if I really committed to myself, and over the past three months, since returning to the UK, I really have committed to myself and for that I am so proud.
So for anyone whose got this far, whose still reading this (firstly, hats off to you!), secondly, don’t give up, keep going…
“Success is failure turned inside out”.
“So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit - It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit”
Keep Going
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must—but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow—
You may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor’s cup,
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out—
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit—
It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.
