Nothing changes if nothing changes...
I’m conscious that I’ve not written on here in over a year, and much as I wish that I could say that it’s because Anorexia has become a distant memory, sadly that’s not the truth.
Sometimes, no often, life doesn’t go to plan.
Last time I posted on here it felt as though for the first time in years things were looking up; I had started a job I absolutely adored, I was flat sharing with a good friend, I was choosing memories over Anorexia, and as a result, I was clawing my way closer to the life I wanted to be leading. By my standards, it felt like life was going pretty well, until I allowed Anorexia a foot in the door again, I allowed recovery to slip further down the priority list. I fell for it once again, rather naively believing that I could pick up and put down Anorexia at my own convenience. Turns out, the professionals were right… you can’t dabble with an eating disorder.
I’m ashamed to admit that. I’m embarrassed that after all these years of treatment, groups and 1:1s… I still fell for it.
Last year, on the 3rd of November 2023, after several months deteriorating, and drifting further from myself, I took the decision to listen to those around me, as I re-entered day treatment at Orri.
20:00 - I mumbled amidst the tears, “It makes me really scared and sad because when it gets really bad it pushes everyone out, I don’t want to push you all out”. “I know my lovely. But we won’t be pushed out. We’re annoying like that, we won’t leave you alone”.
That, right there, that’s the crux of it, I thought that I could do it alone. When actually I don’t believe anyone can beat an eating disorder alone.
I spent the following two months trying desperately to balance normal life with recovery, as I split my week rushing in and out of Orri on three days, and rushing to work on the others. I refused, I absolutely refused to let Anorexia steal my job from me, I know a good thing and good people when they come into my life and I wasn’t willing to lose my job, or them. Some may say that I should have stopped work and dedicated all my time to my recovery and treatment, but I did what felt right at the time.
I then went away with work after Christmas, which actually helped to give me a clearer perspective on my life and recovery. But once again, after returning to normality… Anorexia reminded me it hadn’t gone anywhere. Each week I told myself I would do better, but when behaviours get ingrained and the fear of changing them outweighs the motivation for change… it’s very difficult to shift.
Despite what my shiny social media posts may depict, I’ve spent most of this year feeling indescribably hopeless, alone and stuck. I spent countless hours speaking to many different professionals as I tried to weigh up who could best help me with where I was at. There was a flicker of hope after I saw a lady in Bath whose approach was let’s just say… rather unconventional, “well go tell your Anorexia to go fuck itself! YES I can help you if you really want to recover. Anorexia is not going to give you anything but crap and a crap life”. Amidst all the expletives there was a lot of wisdom, and hope in what she said.
You may notice that hope is something I write about a lot, and I suppose it’s because I feel that Anorexia steals all hope; hope of recovery, hope of a life free from its relentlessness. It shuts down every opportunity, even in this instance, amidst my utter hopelessness back in February, I was handed someone who had hope in droves, enough to kick Anorexia’s taunts into complete oblivion and yet… I shut it down. I made every excuse why not to trust this person, or rather I believed every reason Anorexia proclaimed why “it wouldn’t work”. Once again, I allowed Anorexia to steal my hope.
I went many more months believing Anorexia’s lies, that I could “do it alone”, I could do it “my way”, that “next week we’ll change”, funny how next week never seems to come - but that’s how this malicious illness sticks around for so long, as days turn into weeks, turn into months, turn into years…
28th December 2023
13:38 – “I can’t go on like this or it will end either 1. In hospital again or 2. Dead. I’m not joking. You can’t keep using it Mima, it’s hurting me. It costs too much, my joy, myself, my mood, my laughter, my sparkle, my light. It all. All for the promise of ‘control’. It’s NOT REAL CONTROL MIMA. You HAVE to change!!! I fly to the BVIs tomorrow, a trip most people would be so excited for, but not me. I feel nothing, because when I use my eating disorder to numb out the ‘bad’ feelings, I also numb out the good ones too”.
… and here I am sat exactly a year on having just written an almost identical journal entry.
28th December 2024
15:00 – “Cold, tired and in pain. This is what Anorexia does to me. It ALWAYS does this to me. Yet I listen to it time and time again. You can’t keep on as you are Mima. Your way DOESN’T WORK”.
*turns page ferociously*
I contemplated whether or not I should even start blogging again, riddled with shame that I’m still not better. I thought about my identity, and the fear I carry of not wanting my identity to become my eating disorder. Then I thought about this some more, and I noticed that actually writing my blog helps me to call out the delusion of my Anorexia. Added to which, I think there’s a difference between being perpetually ‘in recovery’ and so identified by Anorexia, and having ‘recovered’, and using your experience to help others. And for me, the latter is the aim, and I think that once I reach that point there will be an awful lot more to say about Mima than “her Anorexia”. So I have decided that I will commit to posting my blogs again, because for me it’s a space where I can be searingly honest, where my voice can be heard louder than Anorexia’s. I find that somehow when I write out Anorexia’s taunts, it’s irrationality becomes almost comical - yes Anorexia, you absolute fuckwit!!!! As IF you thought I would roll over and give another decade of my life to your bullshit.
So now it’s “the DOING” as a wise old owl has frequently reminded me over the years. It’s the nitty gritty bit, the trusting myself and my body rather than continually trying to control every morsel to mitigate any change. NOTE Mima - how has staying the same gone for you? Has it made you feel more in control? Happier? … I think we all know the answer to that one. I’ve stayed on the fence for far, far too long. I have now waited a whole year for this moment of “complete clarity” to come to me... when that is the dichotomy of an eating disorder; wanting support to get well, whilst never feeling “ill enough”. Mix that in with a good dollop of self-will, convincing you that your way WILL work, that you ARE the exception... and you have the perfect storm for persistent and belligerent Anorexia.
It has been this combination of self-will and fear that have diverted me from getting adequate support in place this year. Arguably, it has taken me a round two to realise that I cannot balance the life I want to lead and Anorexia, as I return to day treatment on January the 2nd.
Anorexia is brilliant at making me simultaneously feel like I have no choices except it, whilst in the same breathe making me feel entirely to ‘blame’ for any ‘wrong’ choices made, taunting me that actually it was “my choice to fuck up”. Interesting that. But it rarely allows me enough bandwidth for the veil to lift, to fully consider that actually I have the choice to live a life free from the grips of an eating disorder. It never lets me to believe that I have a choice to do anything except appease it. It’s only when I’m brave enough to stand against it (with a lot of oOpmh from those around me) and I wake up the next day with the realisation that I haven’t self-combusted, only then do I regain my voice and my power to act against it and realise that actually, I DO have a choice.
So this is me, coming back on here to make a commitment to myself and anyone who still reads my ramblings, to get back into my blogging, to help me realign with my authenticity, as I seek honesty, to climb down (with a gentle nudge too perhaps) onto the right side, the side that offers me my life back.
