Let’s Talk: Depression & Anxiety Is Making Me Crazy?!

Pretty much.

I can’t lie, life is a lot better than it was before, now that I’m in recovery. I don’t have to worry about so many things and my mind is a lot clearer – in relation to ED things.

But the depression & anxiety… it’s crippling.  I’m coping okay – I’ve been fortunate enough to have a lot of the techniques that worked for my ED, work for my depression as well. But I’ve found that so many days, it’s just so damn hard to leave my bed. I don’t think I’ve ever been more suicidal in my life – but I definitely don’t want to die.

There’s not really a lot to talk about right now, to be honest. Life is good. I think that’s the annoying thing with depression and anxiety. Life doesn’t just stop, like it would for other illnesses. You find a way to just pick yourself up and keep going.

But I will do more than that. So much more. And it will be okay. It will all be okay.

 

Let’s Talk: 10 Things I Wish I’d Known About My Eating Disorder

1. It’s real. It’s all real. I was so lucky that I had a lot of background knowledge about eating disorders and already knew a fair amount about what was happening to me. It was hard to keep the thoughts out that “nothing would happen to me”. I was in denial about what was happening to my body. We aren’t translucent – we can’t see the damage we are doing. I wish I’d known. It happens to EVERYONE. NO ONE escapes an eating disorder without something. But 90% of the time… It takes something bad to happen for it to click.

2. My goal weight will never be enough. I started out with an idea in mind. And then it grew. It was a cloud and then became concrete. I knew exactly what I wanted. I told myself that if I could reach that point, I could stop. I would stop. I would be happy. Here’s the thing though. You won’t be. You never will be. The number gets smaller and smaller until it’s zero. And you’re not even living anymore.

3. Your ED warps EVERYTHING. I was so confused because I couldn’t see my weight loss, but so many people were constantly pointing out the changes to me. I would just say that I looked normal to me. I couldn’t see it. I still can’t. You don’t recognise the change. You only see what your ED wants you to see – which is big. Bigger than you want to be. So you keep going. It’s a horrendous bitch. I wish I’d known that it would never change. I thought that if I got to X weight, I’d see the difference. You don’t.

4. There is literally nothing that will come of this. ED gives a false sense of hope, of happiness, of a seeming perfection. But in reality – it’s much darker than that. It takes away your conscious thinking, your friends and family, your enjoyment in the big and small things. You think it’s for a reward, but the only thing it ends up in is a coffin.

5. It doesn’t stop after weight restoration. As awful as weight restoration was – actually, I’d say that for me, personally, it was the hardest thing I did. But coming a close second was dealing with the thoughts and behaviours that still threatened me after I had physically recovered my body to a point where it was reaching a health place. You have to keep working.

6. The work is SO WORTH IT. It doesn’t seem like it at the time, but once you start getting pieces of “you” back – it is amazing.

7. It can be hard to separate your “ED” from “you” – but you have you. Otherwise, you risk losing it all. And it can be so hard to find yourself completely again. 

8. Not everyone has the same experience. It doesn’t make your battle any less relevant, or change the severity in any way. I used to think people were “sicker” than me because they had different symptoms, experiences, etc. But really, I was just in denial and trying to make myself feel better about my situation. I was in a bad way, but how could I have been – others were so different? So much worse? But really, a lot of my things were hidden, others had lots of physical symptoms. Didn’t change a thing, we were all in trouble.

9. Recovery is possible, but it is a CHOICE, not a given. You really have to work. You have to choose recovery, you have to WANT to get better. I just thought it would happen. But you actually have to WANT to get better; and actually let go of your ED. I had to recognise that it was killing me, and I didn’t want to die. I have way too much to live for.

10. Slip ups happen, but they don’t mean that you go back to the start and revert back to your ED. It was so incredibly hard, and I would beat myself up about my relapses with behaviours, or weights and the like. But I came to realise that it was just my ED trying to make me feel bad again so that I would go back to destroying myself. I came to recognise that it happened, I didn’t have to like it, but I also didn’t have to let it ruin my day. I could move on. And I did.

  The only thing I can stress is that there are some crucial points in your eating disorder.

The first is recognising and truly acknowledging that something is wrong. That you have an eating disorder and fully understanding that you are NOT exempt from any of the accompanying impacts. You aren’t special, it can and will happen to you – but it can help. It’s a turning point – for me, it acted as a trigger to my recovery. I acknowledged my problem, I came to terms with it, and I acted upon it.

Second, I started my recovery. I tried, and relapsed, and tried, and relapsed. But I never stopped trying. I didn’t give up.

Third, I realised that recovery was a 150% effort. An all in war. And once I committed to that, once I decided not to turn back, I won. 

I won. 

Let’s Talk About: Being In RECOVERY?!

 

I’m officially IN RECOVERY. I’ve been discharged from the docs, my psych sessions have been decreased, my eating is fab and I’m getting better. I’m finally getting better… and do you know what? IT’S FUCKING GLORIOUS.

 

If you had told me three, two, one month ago that I would be where I am today… I would have laughed in your face. And then probably fainted from lack of food and energy. I can’t even describe the difference in my mindset.

And do you know what? It was my fault. I kept myself in my disorder. I thought I was trying, but I wasn’t. Every time it got a little bit hard, every time I gained a kilo, two kilos, five kilos or 100 grams, I went backwards. I didn’t TRY. I just went back to what was easy – not giving a fuck. 

But enough was enough. I was SO DAMN LUCKY to not have totally fucked up my body… My doctor said it was a miracle that all I came out with was some retarded blood sugars and vitamin deficiencies. All in all… my body coped pretty well when I starved it and tried to kill it – and for that, I’m pretty lucky. I’m lucky it even wants to trust me again. I am LUCKY.

I suppose the biggest thing that I’ve realised with recovery, is that it doesn’t stop being hard. It just gets a little bit easier, every day. Your body starts to trust you again, your brain is filled with more “you” thoughts than ED thoughts. You notice different things, your focus changes. You find the fun again, but ALL THE TIME. Sure, you can distract yourself every few days with going out with friends or doing something fun to try to reassure yourself that you’re trying to keep up appearances and try to get some fun into that blank mind of yours. But it doesn’t work like that, and as soon as I found that out, I was all the better for it. I woke up, and was HAPPY. I wasn’t happy with my weight, or the hunger in my belly, or the way that I was so sure there was more fat on my legs than yesterday.  I was happy that my cat was sitting at my feet, purring. I was happy that I knew when I walked into the kitchen, I would smell coffee. I was happy because I knew that if I looked up from my chair at the dining table and looked outside, I would see jonquils. They are my favourite flower.

My focus is so different now, my mind is happier, my body is energised and full.  And I had to do it myself. I needed the help from my psych, my friends, their acceptance, love, kind words. But I had to FIGHT. I had to FIGHT the thoughts, and NEVER give in. Every time I wanted to go to that toilet, I had to SHOUT, SCREAM, YELL at myself. And it was exhausting. But I refused to believe that if I went back to my old ways, of purging, restricting, starving and killing myself, fucking my metabolism, my nutrients, my electrolytes, the works, even thought I thought I “wasn’t sick enough” – even THEN – I refused to think that that would be easier for me. That way of life would kill me. I was killing myself, even though I didn’t think I was even sick. Even though I knew other people were sicker, were in a different stage, had a different type that would make them sicker quicker, even though people were skinnier than me. It sucked, but it was either FIGHT or DIE. It sounds dramatic, but I wish I had realised it was the truth sooner.

The only thing I can really say – to anyone – is that even if you don’t think you’re sick… you are. That way of thinking itself PROVES that you are denying it, as well as denying your poor body of everything it needs to keep your heart beating, to keep your eyes seeing, your heart loving, your feet walking.

But you can do it. You can CHOOSE RECOVERY. YOU. You have to do it yourself. Please, please, PLEASE choose recovery. You can’t remember what you are missing… but when it comes back… you’ll know that you made the right choice.

Be strong, and kick ED to the curb. Yes, you will have to work harder than you ever have. Yes, there’s a good chance you’ll hate yourself every minute of it. BUT. There is so much in life worth living for… and it’s just waiting for you to come and get it.

Let’s Talk: When It All Turns To Shit.

So.

This week has been an absolute mess. Not only has it been incredibly challenging, but, at times, I didn’t think I would even make it through.

I started a new rotation this week, and
I worked really hard to eat my main meals and snacks. I was doing okay, and I was really keen for my appointment on Wednesday with Lucy*. It was a really good session, and I left it feeling empowered and strong.

At home, it all fell apart. A huge screaming match over appointments, money, the reasons behind my eating disorder, if I EVEN HAVE an eating disorder (because apparently it’s just for attention – right?)… It was bad. Really, really bad.  I haven’t been so close before to just calling it quits.  I was so lucky to have a friend realise how bad it was, and she came and calmed me down.

Thursday was even worse. I couldn’t even get out of bed. I so desperately just wanted a day, just ONE DAY to myself, but university stops for no one. I was in a terrible headspace, but I plastered on a smile and went about my work, albeit totally unpaid and ages away from my house. I just had to get through this eight hour shift. That was all I could think about.

Friday was the day of truth bombs and awkward DNMs. There was a lot of crying, a lot of awkward conversations, and heaps of truths laid out on the table. I didn’t know what that would mean, and I still don’t. I am totally uneasy with being so exposed to my family, and I’m terrified of the judgement and disappointment I will and already have received.  I feel like we’re at this tipping point now, and it’s either going to make everything better or everything tonnes worse.

I wish there was a time, an opportunity for me to just take a break. A week, a fortnight max, just to sort my shit out and get my head together. Even go to hospital for some rehabilitation. Just some time out, and maybe some help and support from people who understand what I’m feeling. Unfortunately, none of that is possible without ruining my life right now, which totally sucks. I wish it was easier. I wish there was a break in university, in the endless placements or double work shifts, in constant battle with friends, family and myself.

But it’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay. In the end. That’s what I’m promised, anyway.