Migrating

Hello!

This is a wee update for anyone who stumbles across this blog. Since I've decided to take this logging of my recovery journey seriously, I've set up my own site at http://roughrecovery.com. If you'd like to follow along, I'd be grateful if you checked it out now and again. :)

Making things hard for myself

Again, I'm not entirely sure where this post is gonna go. In future I'm sure I'll be writing more polished, well-drafted, insightful posts but for now this is just a vent for everything I've been experiencing through the day.

Actually today's been a similar day of feeling fine until the evening, where I've got jittery and unsettled. I've thought about it and realised I'm repeating the same mental pattern every day that screws things up for me. Here's what happens:

- Eat very little when I first get up, in case I end up eating lots more through the day.
- Graze a bit but limit it so I'm hungry for lunch.
- Don't eat much for lunch in case I end up eating a lot at dinner
- Graze but limit so that I'm hungry for said dinner
- Don't eat much for dinner so that I can snack more during the evening
- End up not eating until much later, then feeling guilty and anxious that I've not eaten enough and feel like I have to binge to fit enough in.

My whole eating pattern is based on my own fear that I'll be hungry later on, having eaten enough calories too early. This is stupid for two reasons:

1. Having been in and out of anorexia for a long time, I've become bloody good at NOT eating! That's the problem! This fear of being 'hungry later on' has no reasoning behind it. I've been forcing myself to not eat when I'm hungry for years. My real fear is having to force myself to eat when I don't want to.

2. So what if I DO feel hungry later on? I keep trying to budget my calories, but I KNOW that there's no such thing as 'too much' right now. The more I can eat, the better, there's no upper limit whereby I've suddenly gone too far. So why do I keep forcing myself to cram during the last few hours of the day?

Maybe this actually has been an insightful post! Of course, now I've got to act upon it. I've got to start eating more earlier on in the day. That way I should hopefully feel more content in the evening, knowing that there's no pressure to eat shitloads to actually move recovery forward. No harm in trying...

Physical struggles

Again, I'm here with no immediate plan of what I want to talk about. I'd usually vomit all my thoughts and emotions out, read back over and think 'oh shit can't say that', filter, edit, think of more things, lather rinse repeat. 

But then, why filter? This isn't about making my feelings and struggles fit for human consumption. I might tidy it up a bit but I'm beyond the point that I care about judgement. I want to be open and honest with you.

Actually I'd really like to focus on my current physical struggles. I pray I can look back on this next year and thank God that I'm not there any more.

I'm about 6st 12lbs just now. I'm about 5'9, making my BMI about 14.2. The technical term for this is "bloody fucking stupidly underweight". I'm not boasting about it, but nor am I ashamed. This is a mental disorder and I shouldn't be embarrassed.

I'm cold all the time, even when inside with the heating on. My skin is dry and cracked. My stomach can't cope with most things and there's a whole load of too-much-information that I won't go into, but basically makes eating like a normal person...difficult. :S

I'm tired, ridiculously weak, and can't concentrate for shit (writing this has taken me bloody ages).

Perhaps worst of all, my testosterone is totally shot. Maybe it's convenient never having to shave, but I'm sure I'd look sexy with a Fu Manchu tache going on. But then even if I did, I've got no libido to back it up. 

I keep convincing myself that I'm not that sick. I can still function in day-to-day life, and thank God I've never had to be hospitalised. But the reality is that it's not much of a life. I'm an upwardly-mobile skeleton of health issues and I can't deal with it any more. Change needs to happen now.

Not all sunshine

So yesterday felt good and genuinely quite 'normal'. It's days like these that almost make me feel like there's nothing wrong and recovery is easy!

Today was more difficult. I didn't have lunch with mam, which meant I was left to my own devices again. I've enjoyed eating with other family so making and eating with no other external motivation to do so felt uncomfortable. Much as I'd like to rely on my own hunger I still need some structure in my day to hold me accountable.

My tea didn't sit too well either, and I got this 'hungry but not hungry' symptom of recovery where I needed to eat more, and had a craving for food, but still felt physically full and bloated.

I hate that and it got me really jittery. Talked it through with mam and dad though, which calmed me down. I managed some crackers and cheese, protein shake, and some misc. fridge pickings.

I understand that recovery is all about discomfort, moving away from the habits and compulsions that relieve me of anxiety but ultimately harm my health. Today was a friendly reminder that it's not all gonna be sunshine and rainbows.

Dear diary...

I said it'd be important to keep a log of my thoughts, so I suppose I don't have to make everything I write too insightful or descriptive. Just a wee diary entry at the end of the day seems like a good idea, too.

It's been a good day, definitely good. Made some broccoli soup to have for lunch with mam today! It was surprisingly tasty and definitely something I'd make again. Needed the grated cheese and bread, though. Katie had some too, and even dad ate the rest later on, so positive feedback all round.

Got back into cooking these past few days, and I'm enjoying it. Not just for my own benefit, but just like baking I love the satisfaction it brings others. I know that's a common theme among anorexics: the love of cooking for others, reading recipe books, watching Food Network (not just for saucy Nigella shots). Even so, I think it's a much healthier attitude than my absolute loathing of doing anything more than choosing what to have in the Sainsbury's lunch deal to take back to the library.

Had a Nando's later on, too. Standard quarter chicken, corn and fino slaw. Part of me was enthusiastic to try somewhere different, to challenge myself with an unfamiliar menu, but Nando's wasn't my decision and frankly I was happy to roll with it. Minimal anxiety provoking, I guess.

I've eaten a bit of chocolate just now: a square of white chocolate and a bite of Funsize Snickers. I fancied them, and I know that there's gonna be shitloads of that kind of stuff floating around in the festive period so I'd better get used to eating it and not feeling guilty now!

And do you know what? I don't feel guilty. I feel good, I feel positive, and I'm going to try to eat even better tomorrow.

Where I've been and where I'm going

Another blog update so soon! I feel like keeping a diary of my recovery thoughts will definitely help, although how long I can actually keep it up is anyone's guess. Writing for my own benefit is a strange concept. For one, I don't feel the need to make crap jokes everywhere, which will no doubt make it much easier on everyone else, too.

Big thanks to Ian for sharing my previous post. It means a lot to me that people have read it and hopefully understand my current and past situation.

I realise over the past couple of years, my physical and emotional well-being has fluctuated to the point that I've sacrificed friendships and relationships. There's been days where I've genuinely felt like the life and soul of the party, but always followed by periods where I've wanted to shut the world out completely.

I experienced a long period of this shortly after my supervisor went on sabbatical. With no direct accountability for not being around the PhD lab where I have a workspace, and in a serious bout of relapse, I cut myself off from the entire Human-Computer Interaction group for months. Instead, I'd go to the library where I wouldn't have to talk to anyone I knew, where I was just another face in the crowd of undergraduates stressing over their own completely different problems.

I couldn't bear the thought of the weekly group meetings, sitting in the circle and admit that I'd spent another week spinning my wheels, although somehow putting in countless hours. I especially couldn't bear the lunchtimes: everyone getting together and enjoying each other's company over food, a concept I just couldn't fathom in my state.

After the new year, and an overdrawn Christmas break at home, I felt able to come back and attempt to make a fresh start. Since then, progress has been faster, friendships have been made and others strengthened, but overhanging it all has been the ongoing struggle with anorexic tendencies, physical and emotional symptoms and the fears that I'm not cut out for any of this, that I'm not working hard enough, that I'm letting myself and others down.

Do I deserve to be doing a PhD? That's the Impostor Syndrome kicking in, Forever a question I'll probably be unable to answer. Do I deserve health? Yup, I'm sure of that one. That one I can take action on.

Taking time off

I don't write much. Any writing I do is purely for others (Facebook messages, Christmas cards, love letters to Nigella Lawson, the like). So I really didn't really expect to be writing this, and yet, it's been a long time coming.
I don't know who'll read it, if anyone, but it feels important to me to get it out of my head, and onto paper. Well, the monitor, whatever. For my own good as much as anyone else's, but with a small hope that someone else will identify.

I'm now on a temporary leave of absence from my PhD, currently scheduled for 3 months but extendible as needs be. It's not been an easy decision, and even now my mind's a bit all over the place, but the more I think about it the more certain it becomes.

Prior to the PhD I had recovered from a struggle with anorexia. Somehow, through the strength and support of everyone around me, I made a full recovery within a year and was back to a healthy weight and mindset.

Since beginning, these past couple of years have seen me in and out of relapsing almost constantly. After returning from a great conference in the US just over a month ago, my weight's plummeted again through the stress of travel, presenting my research to the pros of the field, returning and trying to catch up on work, figuring out where I'm going with the research question, and above all trying to shun the demons telling me that I'm totally incapable of doing it.

The PhD isn't the root cause of the disorder, but right now, attempting to recover from this nadir while also trying to stay above board with research are two conflicting goals. My ill health means that I can't focus properly, which means work falls behind, which causes additional stress and subsequent ill-health. It's a Catch-22 that needs to be broken.

Everyone told me so, but I pressed on regardless, convinced that I was coping. In fact, the PhD ended up being a distraction; an excuse for not eating properly, for being reclusive, and for generally encouraging all my bad ED behaviours.

I've been blessed to have the full support of family, supervisor, friends, doctor and Student Services. They've reassured me throughout the whole process that this is the right decision; that taking time off to focus on physical and mental recovery from anorexia is necessary. It's got to the point that health can't take a back seat any more.

It's not a failing to admit that I need help.
Success isn't two letters at the start of my name; it's two fingers to the demons trying to take it all away from me, and two hands on the reins to take control of my life again.