My Past Experience of Anorexia


TRIGGER WARNING – THIS IS ABOUT EATING DISORDERS (ANOREXIA)

This account is purely about my own experience of anorexia. This disease affects all sexes, not just women. It can also affect people of any age group. In my case, I was in my forties when it began. Treatment these days may well be different; I don’t know. If you are struggling with an eating disorder or suspect you may be, please seek help from your doctor or any of the helpline numbers given at the end of this post.

Anorexia isn’t about the food; it’s about control. I wanted to control my life but thought if I could control my body and weight, I’d start to feel better. How wrong I was.

It started with me cutting out fats and carbs like many people on diets. I began to lose weight and felt like I was achieving something. As I lost weight, I still wasn’t satisfied, though, convincing myself I was overweight and needed to lose just a few more pounds. I lost more weight, but I still wasn’t content. I began to develop rituals around food, such as cutting food up into tiny pieces to make them last longer or seem more and, weighing everything I ate, then totting up the calories. I stopped drinking coffee with milk and drank only black coffee and Diet Coke. Still not satisfied; eating salad wasn’t enough to control my habit. I began to weigh the lettuce, water well shaken out of it, and work out the calories in three thin slices of cucumber. The weight started to drop off me, but I couldn’t see how ill I was.

I need to make it clear that anorexia is not a choice, a fad, or a diet; it’s an extremely serious and dangerous illness, which is nearly always caused by significant trauma in childhood, as was the case with me.

More rituals developed, and the weight loss continued. I’m not going to go on to describe all those habits and routines because I DO NOT want this to read like an ‘instruction manual’ for anorexia. Suffice it to say; I ended up in the local psychiatric hospital on the eating disorders ward at a very dangerously thin weight of five and a half stone! I was confined to bed and only allowed to use the bathroom with a staff member present. It was so embarrassing.

My first meal there was presented to me two hours after I’d arrived. It was, to my horror, vegetable curry and rice followed by bread-and-butter pudding and two scoops of ice cream. It wasn’t a small portion, either. I don’t think I’d ever felt that sense of panic before. A nurse sat with me and insisted I ate every stone-cold mouthful. I cried, I sobbed, and I begged, all to no avail. I was made to eat all that food despite having terrible pain in my stomach. It seemed barbaric to me. It took me nearly three hours to force the food down. Other than that, they threatened to tube-feed me, and with my phobia of choking, I couldn’t bear the thought of that.

The eating disorders ward had strict rules. Everything was done on a reward and punishment basis. To begin with, I wasn’t allowed phone calls or visitors, not even my family, and I wasn’t allowed out of my room. Weeks passed, and as I gained weight, albeit reluctantly, I was ‘rewarded’ with a phone call to my daughter, then my son and my Mum. They were all worried sick about me and dreadfully upset that I was going through all of this at the same time, realising I was very ill and needed help. There was no way of ‘cheating,’ although some of the people there tried. We would have lost a reward if we lost weight, which was impossible with every mouthful being supervised. It was such a thoroughly miserable time. At the time, I thought it was tortuous; it certainly felt like it.

However, there are only three ways out of anorexia in my mind. One is to get better despite it being painfully hard work (but well worth it); the other is that you spend your life battling with your illness for, possibly, the rest of your years (and believe me, that’s pretty awful), or you die!! It’s as simple as that!

I began to make good progress and started to feel better physically. I was allowed to eat in the dining room with the other inpatients on our ward; I could go to activities and learn about the basic psychology of eating disorders. We were taught about CBT therapy and offered other forms of treatment once our minds had started to recover from the starvation. We were basically given another chance at life, and I was grateful for that.

Finally, after being in hospital for six whole months, I was allowed day leave, and then weekend leave etc. Eventually, I was allowed home but had to attend the day hospital every day.

I don’t think you are ever really ‘cured’ from an eating disorder, but for me, it’s like being in remission, and I never take my life or health for granted. Anorexia is an addiction as well as an illness. Like any addiction, you have to consider yourself in permanent recovery. Now, at the age of 65, I’m making the most of my time and intend to live the rest of my life without harming myself in this way. I’m happy in my life with two adult children and four gorgeous grandchildren. If anyone is reading this and recognises themselves in what I have written, please, please, seek help.


UK HELP: https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/

US HELP: https://www.helpguide.org/home-pages/eating-disorders.htm

AU HELP: https://au.reachout.com/articles/support-services-for-eating-disorders

(Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash)

Live Life – Note To Self (A Poem)

Do you remember the early days
when you were really a mess?
You caused your friends and family
an awful lot of distress

You never thought at that difficult time
you could grow and make a change
You were far too ill to see it, then
Psychotic and very deranged

You’re now no longer the child that died
You’ve rid yourself of the pain
You’re now a responsible adult
Cut free from shackles and chains

You’ve now begun to make peace with yourself
Don’t have all that pain inside
You pulled yourself up by your bootlaces
and new guidelines you’ve applied

You know life won’t always be easy
We all have our trouble, our strife
So make the most of every day
Because you only get one life

Now here you are in your sixties
and you still have a future ahead
Leave behind those constant regrets
Live your life to the fullest instead.




Photo by Sebastian Arie Voortman: https://www.pexels.com




Dear Guilt … (A Conversation)

Dear Guilt,

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and have decided that it’s high time for you and me to part company. I’ve been carrying you around like a large basket of groceries for many years, and you’re getting too heavy for me to manage anymore, so I finally made the decision to break up with you.

You can’t do that! You can’t manage without me in your life. I’ve always been with you, and you need me; you know you do!

No! I don’t need you anymore. Whether you like it or not, it’s time for us to go our separate ways. I won’t be held back by you; you’ve had me chained to your judgements and doubts for far too long.

But, please, don’t do this to us. We can’t survive without each other.

There is no us! I can survive quite happily without you pulling me down day after day, week in, week out. I don’t want you in my life now. It’s time for pastures new. I refuse to be dragged back to the past whenever you feel morose or emotional.

But what will you do without me to remind you of all those years you were abused … those years when you didn’t tell anyone? You know you should have told, don’t you!? Why did you keep it so quiet?  It’s such a massive part of you and a part of you that deserves not to be forgotten. Surely …

Now, listen here, Guilt, you’ve been reminding me of that for decades. Just stop it!! I know it wasn’t my fault – I was just a small child and too young to comprehend what was happening to me. I’m not going to feel bad about it any longer. I’ve discussed all this in my last lot of therapy. You continually pulled me down even then. I don’t know why I listened to you.

I thought you said you wanted to continue to discuss your past experiences with your new therapist when you get one. After all, why else go to see a therapist if not to deal with your past?

Look, I’ve done all that! I’ve thought it through thoroughly in the break. I don’t need to keep dragging it up from the past! Just because you want to cling to the pain and awful memories doesn’t mean I want to do that again. I’ve been there, done that, and worn the t-shirt. When I see a new therapist, it will be with a view to moving forwards, not to keep harping on about the past.

What about all those years you were an addict? You remember; when you’d get off your face with drugs and alcohol? You were hopeless without it, just like you’ll be hopeless without me. You know how worried and cross you made your family and friends. No one wanted to know you back then – only me – there was only you and me together. I never let you down. I was always there to remind you of how good I was to you, that I was the only one who stuck by your side.

My family and friends understand that I was ill back then. We’ve spoken about those times over the last few years. I was very mentally ill. They knew that, but they didn’t know what to do to help me. I had to sort myself out with help from the hospitals and doctors. And I did. And I didn’t need you lurking in my mind all day and night, trying to suck me back down. I do not want you in my life anymore! Do you hear me? Can’t you get this through your thick head? I’ve had enough of walking hand and hand with you.

But … you can’t do this to me. You can’t do this to us. I … we …. Listen, we can start again. I’ll be good to you. Honestly, I will.

Really? Seriously, Guilt??  Just go away!!

What do you mean, go away? You’ve always held me so close and told me how much you needed me. I needed you, too. I still do. You need me, too. Who will you be without me? Who would we be if we were not together? How would we live without each other? You can’t do this to me. I’ll die without you.

Look, Guilt, I’m not going to say this again. I’m sick to death of having you hanging around my neck. I don’t need you – do you get that!? You’re going whether you like it or not. You’re out. We’re over. I’m not going to feed you anymore. You can go and shrivel up in a corner and disappear. I don’t care, I do not care. Get it?

But … please, think again. You know you …

NO, GUILT!! NO! I TOLD YOU. I WON’T TELL YOU AGAIN. YOU’RE JUST A BULLY. JUST GET OUT OF HERE. BYEEEEE …




Photo by Road Trip with Raj on Unsplash





Cutting Some Slack

Sitting here blankly, staring at the wall
Asking myself why I’m still here at all
Only two days ago, laughing and joking
Anguish has returned, prodding and poking

I’ve been making such effort all day today
Holding in misery and fearful to say
Just when I thought it’ll all be okay
Depression decided to come out to play

Keep my head in the clouds, feet on the floor
Hoping joy will return to knock on the door
Fighting the sadness, I’m not giving in
Not knowing how or where to begin

Tired though I am; I’ve got to keep running
Fighting off memories; keep the good coming
Therapy fading and slipping away
Making the most of each session, each day

I’m trying so hard again not to lose hope
Nearly evening now, and it’s tough to cope
How do I start to cut me some slack?
Come on, start climbing; no looking back.





Image by Dr StClaire from Pixabay



Catharsis

Let my fears float away
in a hot air balloon
above the dark clouds
and up to the moon

All my pain and the anger
sent up to the sky
the winds blow them gently
as I watch them fly by

Rip up scarred words
and burn them with sage
watch them all wither
and releasing the rage

Try punching a pillow
or let out a scream
digging for gold
or my lost self-esteem

Bang on a drum
play music so loud
don’t need permission
it’s fine; it’s allowed

Write down my thoughts
draw out a sketch
pin them up on the wall
and take a deep breath

Let your grievances lapse
write a gratitude list
swaddle the hurting
while angels are kissed.

I’ve had a more positive day today, so it’s made a nice change and was quite some relief, too. I hope it lasts, but even if it’s just a little taster of how life could be, it’s been good to be able to write something a bit more upbeat.

I wrote this after having a conversation with my counsellor yesterday. She asked me, totally out of the blue, what I’d like to do with all my pain, trauma and nightmarish memories. On the spur of the moment, without giving it much thought, I just came out with, ‘I’d like to put them in a hot air balloon and let them float up to the sky until the balloon is completely out of view.’

(I’ve also just started reading a book by a WP blogging friend, Tamara. If you’re reading this, Tamara, thank you for all your support and for letting me know about your books. I can see so much of myself in them. If you’d like me to link you to this post, just contact me, and I’ll be more than happy to do so.)

I’ve just started to draw a sketch of my imaginary balloon. It’s too late to finish and post it here tonight, but if I get it finished by tomorrow, I’ll add it to this post then.





Not exactly a sketch, but a very amateur attempt at drawing/colouring a picture of a hot air balloon. As you can see, I’m not an expert at art!

Ellie Thompson

Climbing The Ladder

(Photo by Nick Page on Unsplash)

Drowning in anguish sucked the life out of me
I expressed my personal agony for all to see
I was travelling through the days full of tragedy
Not getting where I really wanted to be

***

Each day spending far too long in bed
Fighting off the unwanted thoughts in my head
Often wishing to be numb, sometimes dead
Now, I’m wanting to live life again instead

***

I want to be rid of the despair, anger and hate
Let them go, leave them standing at the garden gate
There was far too much pain sitting on my plate
Now is the time to cleanse, release and recreate

***

I’ve written my life story in excruciating rhyme
Feeling all the misery like joy was the crime
Feeling deep sorrow for losing so much time
Please hold my hand while I begin the long climb

***

Life was pretty tough when it all went wrong
I’ve been sitting on the bottom rung for far too long
Forgot to tell myself that I’m still brave and strong
Now, I’m wanting to sing a brand-new song

***

Not saying it’s going to be easy but I’ll try
Not saying I won’t be sad because I might still cry
Not saying it’s the end as I don’t want to die
Not saying I won’t need you, so please stand by.




Fight Song (Video & Lyrics🎶)

(NotSalmon – Google Images)

I was scrolling through some videos on YouTube this evening and came across this one (below). It’s called ‘Fight Song’ by Rachel Platten. I found the lyrics very uplifting, so I thought I’d share them here. I especially love the lines – “Losing friends and I’m chasing sleep; Everybody’s worried about me; In too deep, say I’m in too deep (In too deep); And it’s been two years, I miss my home, But there’s a fire burning in my bones; Still believe; Yeah, I still believe.”

I know you are all aware of what a difficult and painful journey I’m on currently, and I’m not saying I’m over it all yet (I wish it were that easy), but this song gave me hope, which meant a lot to me. I can’t say that I won’t need to share any more of my emotionally raw poetry as that is also cathartic, but for tonight, I’ll hang on tightly to these words; perhaps, they will give me some new strength. I hope so.

Please, take the time to listen to this beautiful song; read the lyrics and do let me know what you think of them. With my heartfelt thanks … Love to you all … Ellie 🦢 Xxx 💖💛💝

Like a small boat
On the ocean
Sending big waves
Into motion
Like how a single word
Can make a heart open
I might only have one match
But I can make an explosion

And all those things I didn’t say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Losing friends and I’m chasing sleep
Everybody’s worried about me
In too deep
Say I’m in too deep (in too deep)
And it’s been two years I miss my home
But there’s a fire burning in my bones
Still believe
Yeah, I still believe

And all those things I didn’t say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

A lot of fight left in me

Like a small boat
On the ocean
Sending big waves
Into motion
Like how a single word
Can make a heart open
I might only have one match
But I can make an explosion

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong (I’ll be strong)
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Know I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Scarred

(Image source – Phoebe Kay – Pinterest)

NOTE:
Just to reassure my readers that I don’t self-harm anymore. Unfortunately, I have scars that will never go away, which I have to live with for the rest of my life. It’s not easy – I carry a lot of shame for them, although I appreciate that was my way of surviving the intensity of the agony at that time. My scars are sadly worse than those in the image. I get judged by strangers who stare sometimes. It makes me want the ground to open up and swallow me. I can’t say I’m never tempted to do it again at times when I’m desperate, but I know that I won’t. I owe it to myself, my children and my ever-curious grandchildren. I have a tattoo across some of my scars – it says, “THIS TOO SHALL PASS,” and I know it will in time.

I want to heal and my writing is my way of beginning that journey. Thank you for bearing with me and supporting me with my recent outpourings of grief.

Tramlines embedded

permanent reminders

in soft, yielding flesh

disguising the pain of existence

~~~

The beginning of the slippery slope

the agonising journey

following tracks

side by side by side by side

~~~

Ensuring her instruments

gleaming in the moonlight

spotless from the flame

as she attacks with ferocity

~~~

Pearls of crimson gathering

on her lily-white skin

offering relief

from the shame and guilt

~~~

Never speaking of his sin

holding it all within

brain freeze

a blade on the skin

~~~

Silenced with threats and blame

memories, flashbacks abound

cutting the evil and torture out

of the time when cries went unheard

~~~

Child of her child’s curiosity

she tells of a fall on broken glass

submerging her truths

hoping the child’s thoughts will pass

~~~

No surrender of life or sanity

She needs no permission to write

expressing her pain in words

she’s not giving up on the fight.