Let’s Talk: Going From 800 Calories A Day To 3000!

WHAT I EAT IN A DAY!

It was a HUGE change going from my restrictive diet of around 800 calories a day to my now in-recovery typical day count of between 2500-3000.

I thought I’d go through what I’m eating to show that the foods I’m eating are SO RICH in nutrients, keep me full and energised, and allow me to do all the incredible things my body was made for. But most of all, this was how I learnt to NOT be scared of the numbers. Those numbers mean nothing. They make everything worse. So now, seeing these numbers, I’m not bothered. Because I was able to see past the awful feelings associated with a bigger number, and see the things that these foods (THAT ARE A NORMAL INTAKE FOR SOMEONE MY AGE AND GENDER!!!!) are not to be feared

So…

BREAKFAST:

• 2 slices of rye bread
• Vegemite, peanut butter, honey or NUTELLA (my favourite)
• A bowl of granola with yoghurt and chia seeds
• Fruit smoothie with almond milk
• Coffee(!!!!!!)
• Piece of fruit (normally a banana)

MORNING SNACK:

• Piece of fruit
• Biscuits, crackers and cheese with dip or popcorn
• Probably a coffee, let’s be honest

LUNCH:

• Sandwich with rye bread or a pita wrap WITH…
• Chicken or ham
• Avocado
• Cheese
• Spinach/rocket/lettuce
• Then… something sweet – biscuits, chocolates
• Sometimes a piece of fruit

AFTERNOON SNACK:

This is the time where I get ALL of the cravings haha! So I’ll normally opt for a piece of cake or something that my brain wants, because I put full trust in that that is what I need

• ?Cake, ?Chips, ?Nutella toast

DINNER:

This changes all the time! I never have the same thing in less than 10 days normally… normally longer!
But it will always consist of:

• A source of protein (chicken, pork, beef, lamb, fish, turkey)
• A source of carbs (rice, potatoes, pasta, potato chips)
• Vegetables! (Salads or steamed veggies)

EVENING SNACK:

• A piece of fruit OR fruit salad
• Ice cream (it’s my weakness… hello cookie dough!)
• Occasionally cake or slices or cupcakes/whatever I’ve baked or bought from the store

So there you go! Typical day for me in terms of meals. It was terrifying at the start, but I feel so strong, and really, REALLY proud of myself for sticking with it. I am able to practice nursing and midwifery, I am able to be safe when I work. I can give back to everyone who helped me. I can give back to the community.

Life is so wonderful, you only get one chance at it. I wasted enough time already, I am so happy that I can now get it back.

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. 

Let’s Talk: Feeling Nothing.

Warning: super depressing post.

I’m in such a rough patch at the moment. I literally feel nothing. I wake up, nothing. The whole day, nothing. Going to bed is pure relief, because there’s a chance that I might have dreams to distract me from the utter nothingness.

I feel like I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown. I feel like I’m on a ledge, and I’m either going to go one of two ways – backwards away from the ledge, or topple right over. I’m about to start placement again for four weeks straight, with one day break each week. I have to miss a few appointments with my psychologist, and I’m really stressed about that. It’s by chance, and my university and the hospitals have been really good with trying to get my afternoons off, but sometimes it’s just too hard.  Not to mention the fact that I’m probably going to be the shittiest nurse and midwife alive, because I can’t even get my own shit together. What if I concentrate too much on my appearance that I make a mistake? Normally, I throw myself into work and love the distraction, but I’m so scared.

Every day I get told by certain people that I’m going to kill someone, that I’m not fit to work in the health profession, that I shouldn’t be allowed out of the house. That makes me feel even better. But I think my favourite thing about the upcoming month is no pay.  I never imagined the stress that finance could put on someone, but now I do.

I feel like I’m in a really deep hole and I can’t get out. But the strange thing is… I don’t really want to. I haven’t felt like this in a really long time. I don’t want to do anything anymore, and I don’t care about anything. And I don’t even wish I didn’t. I’m hoping I can just ride this out and see what happens. Maybe placement might snap me out of it?

I just feel nothing, blank space. All I see is black. I’m not dropping my weight fast enough for my liking, and I feel like I’m failing. If I can’t even get that right, what do I have? I honestly don’t know.

Let’s Talk: Psychologists

Seeing a psychologist is terrifying. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the psychology clinic, legs shaking, hands clasped; I was so anxious I had to step outside to pull myself together. The room itself was so calming – now I think about it. It had these beautiful pictures on the wall, and the radio playing with great music. The receptionist was sweet, and couches comfy. But with all of this… I was still battling with myself on whether or not to just run away and come back when I felt more in control.

The statistics in Australia state that only 1 in 6 people suffering from an eating disorder seek treatment. That is a scary number, and a scary thought. It breaks my heart to think that people are suffering alone, when there is help out there for them.

I had seen a psychologist before, just under four years back. It was the worst experience in counselling I have ever had. She was too clinic, and completely condescending. There was no attempt at a therapeutic relationship, and I didn’t feel comfortable opening up to her.

But when I met Lucy*, my current psychologist, I couldn’t believe the difference. Straight away, a therapeutic relationship was made. I was made to feel at ease and safe at the clinic, and therefore, I knew I would be able to use the support provided to me to fuel my own recovery.

I can’t acknowledge enough how terrified I was at going to a psychologist for a second time. Albeit, for different reasons, still… I didn’t want to try to open up to someone again and have another bad experience. But, today, I am so incredibly glad I did.

Today, I have someone who is supportive, and understanding. There is no disappointment or frustration, only ways to help. The clinic I attend focus on an attribute each month, and last month’s was courage. As corny as it sounds, I’m pretty glad I had the courage to seek help again. If I hadn’t, I definitely wouldn’t be in the positioning of healing that I am today.

I can’t explain how helpful psychology has been for me. I am a talker, and I love to discuss things with people. Feelings, emotions and all that jazz, however, I’m not a big fan. But being able to talk about it, free from judgement, and with constant support, has made all the difference. I have been taught many different therapies and techniques that I can take away with me and use when I’m in a stressful situation. I can honestly say that seeing a psychologist is the greatest healing treatment for an eating disorder. 

I think I am very lucky to have found a support who I feel understands what I’m saying and where I’m coming from, but there have been countless times that I have heard stories of people not “clicking” with their psychologist, but still sticking with it.  This only shows how determined they are to seek help and get better, but you need someone who you can respect, be open with and learn from. It’s almost like a “try-before-you-buy” situation. After all, this is your mental health you’re talking about.

I really hope that anyone suffering is seeing a psychologist who is right for them. Lucy* specialises in eating disorders, which has been fantastic, because she really does understand my thoughts. If you are suffering and aren’t happy with the help you’re getting, keep looking.  Your health is worth so much more than seeing someone who you don’t feel comfortable with. They won’t be able to help you, no matter how much you & they try. Keep searching.

Let’s Talk: Exam Stress and Eating Disorders

EXAMS. The supposed test of knowledge that will tell us how much we learned in a semester. I am possibly one of the only people to really like exams. Until my eating disorder came along.

I used to prefer exams because I could cram study in. I was efficient, systematic and tended to fair much better in exams than I did in any assignments. But with my eating disorder, came an inability to concentrate, fatigue that seemed to last forever, and poor sleeping patterns.

I could no longer follow the game-plan I was so used to. So, how did I combat this? To be honest, I haven’t really figured it out.  The extra stress of exams and my lack of sleep and ability to concentrate have me on the point of a mental breakdown.  I have found it so easy to take out my stress on my body, by not eating.

I constantly feel completely out of control of my future – and that’s what exams do. You don’t have any control over what could be on that test. You study your hardest, and can still be trumped on a major question. So… the only thing I felt like I could control were my eating habits.

Going through exams again right now (actually, I have my final exam ever tonight!!), I have become obsessed with a number again. I am putting all of my self-control in focusing on getting to that weight, because it is the only thing that keeps my calm. It’s definitely not ideal, and I know it will be harder to break the habit this time. But I can’t describe the pressure and stress I put on myself.

And at the moment, this is the only thing saving me. It’s always there, in good times and in bad.

If I could go back in time, I would shake my younger self. Tell myself not to take it out on my body. To nourish my brain with nutrients and energy that it is begging for. To be able to help myself concentrate through food. To try and sleep more. But for now, all I can do is to aim for those goals.

MANTRA FOR MY RECOVERY

“People always say the first step is the hardest, but I never found the beginning of recovery to be the hardest part. Even at the beginning of recovery, there is still safety in rules and routines and you are still “somebody with a mental illness“. You’re still focusing on your illness, just in a different way. The hard part is letting go completely.

It’s in the middle, when you’re not really sick but you’re not really better either. You can stop an action in the blink of an eye, but the thoughts stick around like a bad taste in your mouth. It gets hard when you look healthy, and you’re not breaking down, and everyone thinks you’re okay now. But your head is still fighting every move you make. It’s hard when you feel like you’re losing your identity, but you’re not so sure you want to lose that part of yourself yet.

But you have to. Because holding on to that identity is like holding onto a tether – you might feel safer and more secure, but in reality, it’s only restricting how far you can go.”

My Story.

My story with an eating disorder began “officially” nearly a year ago, but really, I think I’ve been suffering for a really long time.

I have always been a little obsessed with my weight, from my early teens. It took me a long time to work this out, and it was only really from using apps like TimeHop that showed statuses from four, five, six years ago talking about my own weight and how I wanted to lose more. I have been a bit of a fussy eater since forever, but really, it all started when I was on a nursing placement a year ago…

I was at a hospital that was a long way from home, requiring at least two hours of travel each way, and practically zero sleep. As a result, I ate food from the hospital most shifts, and was very unorganized with my food/sleep/rest schedule. I gained over 4kg in 4 weeks. This is when it all started.

I was absolutely shocked. I was totally disgusted in myself. I couldn’t believe I had let myself lose such control. I was never really happy with my body image to begin with, and now, my body image was all but destroyed.  I vowed that I would diet and exercise like mad to get myself back to where I was prior to my placement. Except… I went overboard.

I started out counting calories, restricting my meals bit by bit. I could remember that I had done this before, a few years ago, whilst doing a popular 12 week fitness program. Restricting my meals and regular exercise helped me shed kilos in a manner of weeks. I thought I could do it again. Little did I know how quickly it would take hold of me.

My calorie goals were less and less, and I was trying every diet under the sun, particularly the 5:2 diet, where you have two days with 500 calories or less, and then whatever for the other five days. The thing is, I changed it to 500 or less EVERY DAY. I was losing weight quickly and was so pleased with myself.

But then… I gained weight. It was something minuscule, like 200 grams. But it threw me for six. I started telling myself that I was fat, disgusting and a pig. That I was undeserving of the life I had, and that I needed to work harder to make up for my failure. That’s where I guess I started to meet Ana. I started listening to the voice in my head. I grew a strong bond with her. She was with me, and I was with her. She would help me achieve my goal weight of 52 kg, then 50 kg, then 48 kg. She was my saviour.

People began noticing my weight loss, and commenting on how fantastic I looked. Everywhere I went, my friends or peers would ask if I had been working out, and comment on “how good” I looked. I couldn’t believe it. But it
wasn’t enough. I wasn’t skinny enough. It would never be enough in my eyes.

I realised I had a problem when I had lost nine kilos. I decided to go to my GP to get a referral. I had been to a psychologist three years before for severe depression, suicidality and anxiety, but had a bad experience. I was skeptical, but I’m also a huge talker, and I knew I needed someone to talk to.

My GP referred me to a psychologist who specialised in Eating Disorders, and that was where I met Lucy*. Lucy is my new saviour. My sessions with her are just amazing, and she has been a huge support to me. She never gives up on me, even when I tell her she should. She never expresses disappointment, even though I feel like I constantly fail her. We worked so hard together for around 3 months to get me into recovery. I was eating 3 meals and 3 snacks a day, and was essentially weight restored. Her techniques, guidance, and above all, unconditional support, have led me to believe that I can be in recovery, and happy. She has helped me see.

Recently, I have had a lot of pressure and stress, that has accumulated and hit me all in one go. As a result, I’m currently experiencing a relapse. I don’t know if I’m sad about relapsing though, and that is terrifying to tell Lucy. But she never fails to surprise me, so I know that whatever I concoct in my mind, she will do the opposite. I hope.

What I can stress is getting an incredible support network around you. My parents are fairly reserved with my eating disorder treatment, by their own wishes. It is hard to make them understand, but I know that that is their opinion and I can’t change it. My mother believes it is all in my head and that I chose this, but all I can do is offer her the education. My psychologist, supportive friends and siblings are what get me through.

So, whilst I am still battling every day, I believe I have come a long way. It may not seem it, as I have relapsed after working hard to recover, but there will always be bumps in the road. What I do know, is that no matter what happens, I want to write it down. I want to document it through this blog, for my own piece of mind. My blogs might be relatable to someone, and I know how it feels to read something and just UNDERSTAND.

And sometimes, that’s enough.