1 Step forward, 2 steps back

Just when I thought things were starting to get better
Just when I thought I could see a light at the end of this dark tunnel
Just when I dared to hope again
I fucked it all up

Since last week I've been taking Mary's advice and eating 3 meals and 2 snacks
She assured me that it was the only way to control the bingeing and purging and maintain my weight
She told me I had to try it for myself to believe it
I am just about ok with my weight at the moment
Still underweight but not critically low
I was struggling to continue to eat the last couple of days so I decided to weigh myself yesterday morning to assure myself that my weight wasn't spinning out of control
Bad idea
I was up almost 3 pounds
I didn't want  to believe it so I weighed again
Same number
No!
Just no!
I bypassed disappointment and sadness and went straight to anger
I was so very angry with myself for letting this happen
The scale tells the tale
Anorexia screamed inside my head

'You pathetic piece of shit, how could you let this happen?'

'Look where eating regularly got you'

'If you had listened to me this would never have happened'

'You're not a person, you're a pig'

'Big fat pig'

I immediately rounded up my dogs and went for a walk in the pouring rain
I was glad it was raining
I was glad that I felt cold and wet and miserable
I tried to walk off the anger but I was crying from pure temper
Fuck my life!

I must say at this point that yes I know I'm supposed to be regaining weight and it's not so much the weight gain as my reaction to it that messed me up

I was due to see Mary in the afternoon but there was no way I could see her now
She would just try to make me see that the number on a scale means nothing
But it does
As much as I hate it, in that instance the number meant everything
It dictates my mood
My self worth
Self confidence
Self esteem
It means everything
I hate that this number has so much power over me,I really do
Mary would probably have an explanation as to why my weight jumped up like this
A reasonable, rational reason
But I don't want to hear it
I would rather blame myself and my big oversized mouth
I texted her to cancel the appointment
She immediately rang but I just let it ring
Then she texted to say she was away for 2 weeks
I was glad

My eating disorder then went in to overdrive
Plotting
Scheming
Planning
Damage limitation
3 meals and 2 snacks?
No thank you very much
I'll have my old ways back please

But now food is terrifying
I don't know where to go from here
The safest thing is to eat nothing
That is the only way now
But what about fluids?
Should they go too?
I think a human can only live for 3 days without  water
Is that true?

My mood plummeted today
I could barely speak to my father
I pretended I wasn't feeling well to get out of eating
I just about got away with it
I feel so ridiculous for having this reaction over 3 measly pounds but I just can't help  it
It's my own fault
I should never have stepped on that scale
Ignorance is bliss
Why do numbers affect me more than words?

Living this way is completely draining
I've really had enough
Enough of this war going on inside my head
Enough of these spun   out highs and crippling lows
I just want to be free of this addiction
I can't take much more
It's like a parasite living inside of me
Sucking the very life out of me
I wish it would loosen it's grip on me
I wish I could let go of it
I wish it would let go of me
I wish I could sleep forever
I wish.............

Angelina Jolie?

I had to go for a bone scan last Friday]
I haven't had a period in years so Mary was concerned that my oestrogen levels were  low and that in turn effects bone density leading to things like osteoporosis
My Dad insisted on coming with me
We checked in and the nurse gave me a form to fill in
Height, weight etc
As my Dad saw me filling in the information, he asked me what my lowest weight was
I told and he looked shocked
We worked out that my dog weighed more than me at that time
You can probably tell  that I don't like to mention weights but I will say that at my worst I weighed 35kilos
My Dad told me that I looked like 'a bag of bones'  then
He said that he and my mother were so worried
He told me that I could never go  back there
That if I couldn't get well for myself, then to try to get well for them
Different motivation but it would get the same result and isn't that all that matters?
I didn't say much while he was talking
It was the first time that he ever spoke about how my illness affected him so I let him talk

I remember the time before I first went to treatment about 6 years ago
One day I just decide that I couldn't do it anymore
I was admitted to a general  hospital for 2 weeks and then a psychiatric hospital for 3 weeks
It was around this time of year
My Dad lived an hour and a half away but he made the journey everyday to visit me
In the hospital they had a care assistant that sat with me all day and my Dad would take over for a few hours
At first we didn't talk much, he sat reading his paper and I slept or wrote
Any time I left my bed they made me use a  wheelchair and he would wheel me outside so we could both have a much needed smoke
He brought me magazines and my favourite chocolate
The hospital took my case seriously because a girl had died there from anorexia a few weeks previously
My memory is very foggy from that time
I certainly had no idea how ill I was
Never mind how thin I was
Even though they had someone sit with me all day and accompany me to the bathroom, I was always one step ahead of them
Hiding food
Purging anywhere I could, plastic bags or in the shower
Lying to everyone
Water loading before weigh ins
Dumping my ensures
Every ounce of what of little strength I had went into maintaining my eating disorder
I didn't see that these people were trying to help me
All I saw was that they were trying to break me and fatten me up
I remember one day I  sneaked down to the lobby to purge in the public bathroom
A student nurse followed me and caught me mid purge
We walked back up to the ward and I saw she was crying
She felt terrible that she had to catch me and I felt terrible that I had put her in that position
It didn't stop me doing it again though

Then I was moved to the psychiatric hospital
It was a lot different, lots of very ill people
I was lucky to have my own room
There was a little window in the door and at night I would 2 eyes looking in at me
It was terrifying
I remember there was a girl there who thought that she was Angelina Jolie
She had been admitted after trying to withdraw a million pounds from the bank under that name
Her boyfriend came to visit her everyday
They had met in another hospital and were both very sick
One day he arrived dressed in a tuxedo and proposed to her
How romantic?
There was another woman who was such a bully
She bullied other patients and even the staff were afraid of her
Thankfully she didn't harass me
I'm not sure why she left me alone
She insisted that the only reason she was in there was to get dental work done
If only

They didn't help me get any better in there
They just made sure that I didn't die
I went home for  a couple of days at Christmas and my sister and mother brought me back in
It was so depressing waking back in there
It was a miserable place
All cold hallways and stark rooms
After my mother and sister left, I looked out the window
They were in the car crying in each others arms
But I was so numb that I felt nothing
Looking back now it breaks my heart
If getting well was solely down to love and support I would have gotten well a long time ago

Anyway back to the bone scan
The results were as expected, low bone density
The nurse recommended that I put on weight, reduce exercise and go on a calcium supplement
In a sick and twisted way I was glad of my results
I guess a lot of the time I don't think I am unwell because I don't think I am thin enough anymore
So I look for other signs  that I am sick
That itself is sick
Does that make sense?

In other news my mood has improved since I started taking my meds properly

Baby steps!

S.I.C.K

I saw Mary yesterday
She is so sweet
She had printed off lots of little cards for me with steps to change negative thoughts
She told me to keep some in my bag and put some up at home
Maybe she does this for everyone but I sometimes feels like she goes the extra mile for me
Actually I'm sure she does this for everyone
I mean why would I be so special?
I also saw my psychiatrist
I was anxious to see him as I've had a rocky relationship with him over the years
I remember this time last year he said he wouldn't recommend that I go in to treatment
I thought he was saying that I wasn't sick enough to go in to treatment
So I decided to go anyway
Not because I wanted to
Just because he said I couldn't
I've always been like that
Tell me I can't do something and I find a way so I can
It turned out that it wasn't my usual doctor
It was one of his clones
He greeted me at two in the afternoon by saying 'Good morning!'
'This is going to be fun' I thought
'Well by the looks of you things are going well' he said
'You ignorant fucker' I thought to myself
He obviously hasn't had much experience of eating disorders
I decided not to be honest and instead I played 'Ruby, the good little recovering anorectic'
He seemed delighted
As if he himself had cured me
So I threw him a curve ball
'Of course I still purge up to 10 times a day'
'Oh' he said and he scribbled furiously on his pad
Then he threw my curve ball right back at me
'Do you pray' he asked
A strange question for a man of science to ask
I was a bit taken aback but even though he was a bit clueless, I could see his heart was in the right place and he wanted to help me
I was honest and said that I used to pray but I don't anymore
And I did
When I was attending AA and NA
I didn't believe in God in the conventional sense, rather a higher power of my own understanding
I prayed every morning and anytime I needed help
I have massive respect for anyone who has faith, no matter what religion
I stopped praying when I stopped going to meetings
Not that I stopped believing, I just fell out of the habit of doing it everyday
The psychiatrist recommended that I start again
I though this was refreshing if a little unorthodox
Usually they just tinker with my meds
Maybe he wasn't so ignorant after all

I can't remember where exactly I heard this (pesky short term memory)
But I heard a different explanation of the word sick
Here it is

Sensitive
Intelligent
Creative
Kind

I love this
For the last 12 years I have been told that I am 'sick'
My thinking is sick
My behaviours are sick
I am sick
The word sick has always been negative to me
To me it has always meant that I am weak
Less than everyone else
Defective
Broken
Stupid
But ever since seeing it as S.I.C.K, I am seeing it in a different light
Sensitive, yes I have always been sensitive, too sensitive for my own good
Intelligent, I am not super intelligent but I am certainly not stupid
Creative, I used to be so creative and I want to get back there
Kind, I would like to think of myself as kind

Whoa Ruby, is this turning in to a, dare I say it, positive post?

I am not naturally optimistic
Some people are eternally optimistic but I am not one of them
But if something is explained to me in such a way that I can see the positive, then yes, I have the ability to see the bright side

So today I want you to remember that no matter what you have been through, you are not broken
You are not defective
You are not weak
You are definitely not stupid
You have more strength than you ever thought possible
You are beautiful inside and out
You have been through so much but you are still putting one foot in front of the other and keeping going
We feel so much pain but because of that we have the ability to feel happiness
We might not recognise it at first but we will
We are fighting the demons in our heads everyday and we will win the battle
We are shining stars in a black, black sky
We are full of wonder
We are SI.C.K

Dana: The 8 year old anorexic

I first saw the documentary Dana: The 8 year old anorexic about 4 or 5 years ago
I remember that it affected me massively so I as was apprehensive as to whether to watch it again when I saw it was on last week
I decided to watch it
Dana was a little girl living in the UK
She was just like every other little girl the world over
Except for one thing
At the tender age of 8 she developed anorexia
She described how at first she gave up sweets
Then all junk food
Then meat
Then food altogether
She also exercised to the point of exhaustion
The documentary followed her as she underwent treatment
A 12 week stay at an in patient centre for children with eating disorders called Rhodes Farm
The other girls described the day Dana arrived
'A black car pulled up, 2 people got out and then the screaming began, the new girl is here'
After a bumpy start Dana seemed to settle in very quickly and began to eat straight away
She steadily gained weight
It showed Dana's parents coming to take her out for the day
Part of the deal was that she had to eat a high calorie meal and dessert while out
So determined to pass the test, Dana scraped every last crumb off her plate but when the dessert came she struggled to finish the massive piece of cake and ice cream
I could she that she felt she had to finish every little bit
Her thinking being that if she failed this test, she would have to stay longer in treatment
To my eyes it looked like she was 'eating to get out'
She was questioned as to why she stopped eating but she couldn't really give an answer
The other girls expressed concern  that she was holding all her problems in
That she was putting on a brave face
I would have to agree
Like so many of us, she seemed to be wearing a mask
Pretending that everything is ok when it so obviously isn't
At one point she confessed that she had wanted to die but she didn't say why
Because she was eating and gaining weight, she left Rhodes Farm after 12 weeks
Her mother said she thought Dana was recovered
That this was just a'blip'
I thought this was a bit naive of her to say as this as we can never underestimate the power of this illness
I hope and pray she's right though

Part of me was shocked that Dana developed anorexia so young but part of me wasn't
In this day and age it's near impossible to escape the message that thin equals happiness and success
We see it in magazines, on the tv, on the internet
If Dana was struggling to cope it is easy to see why she turned to food
We are fed the message that losing weigh will solve our problems
Help us become pretty, popular and loved
I think back to my own childhood and I see that at first I turned to food to help me deal with life and as I got older I turned away from it
Too young to take drink or drugs, food is the nearest mood altering chemical to hand
Eating becomes a comfort
Then not eating becomes a comfort

It broke my heart watching this documentary
Dana obviously was in a lot of pain but it was never really explored
To my mind she left Rhodes Farm with the same problems she went in with
The only difference was now she was at a healthy weight
But gaining weight does not mean we are recovered
Yes, it is an essential part of recovery but it is exactly that, part
The real work happens in our minds
Changing our way of thinking
Changing our beliefs about ourselves
Learning to like and accept ourselves no matter what the number on the scale says
You can be a healthy weight but still have a very anorexic way of thinking
As I have often said I was just as sick at my highest weight as I was at my lowest weight

One the girls in the documentary was called Georgie
She was painfully honest
She said she looked at other girls leaving Rhodes Farm and she thought they looked fat
She said she liked her bones
Some of the girls described anorexia like another voice in their heads
One that must be obeyed
This is a great description, anorexia is like another person and I guess the reason why so many of us personify it
I call my anorexic voice anamia, a mixture of anorexia and bulimia

Dana is a young teenager now, maybe 13 0r 14
I wonder how she is today?
I wonder how all the girls from the documentary are?
The reality is that some of them will have recovered, some of them will still be in their illness and some of them will have died
It's a game of Russian roulette
I hope that because they caught Dana's anorexia so early that she will have a better chance of recovery
But it's sad to think of her having to fight this for the rest of her life
I hope and pray it was, as her mother said, a 'blip' but I fear that it could have been the beginning of a life long battle
For anorexia is very powerful
It is literally a fight for your life
And no one can help
Getting well is solely down to the one person who doesn't want to get well
Getting well physically can take months
Getting well emotionally and mentally can take years
Getting over it completely can take a lifetime
And the cruel thing is we never get to enjoy the one thing we crave the most, being thin, because we never believe we are thin enough
And like any addiction, there is always the chance of relapse which can hit you like a punch in the stomach
I don't believe we ever fully recover
Again like anyother addiction, it is always there is the background but we learn to manage it
Like taming a wild animal, you can train it but there is always the possibility that it will bite you one day

I thought the documentary was well made and gave a realistic picture of eating disorders and their recovery
But anyone watching could see that Dana was not even nearly recovered
Her mother was so positive and so hopeful and that will help but it won't make Dana better
The only negative about the documentary was that it showed some of the girls weights
I don't need to tell you how triggering that is
When ever I read a book or watch a documentary about eating disorders, I always hone in on the numbers and focus on them and compare myself
I think numbers shouldn't be included as it is not necessary, we don't need to know specific weights

Has anyone else watched this documentary?
What did you think?

Monkey see, Monkey do

I was looking for something in my room last night and I stumbled across a bottle of laxatives
Monkey see, monkey do
They had the desired effect but now I am as weak as a kitten
Monkey see, monkey do

I saw my doctor this morning
I had been rehearsing my speech all weekend
It was simple and to the point
'I'm abusing my meds and I want to die'
But something happens me every time I walk in to the doctors surgery
All of a sudden I put on an all singing all dancing performance
'I'm fine'
'Everything's fine'
'What me? No I'm a-ok,
'Hunky dory'
'Everything is tickity-fucking-boo'
In the same way I seem to break down everytime I see Mary, I seem to turn in to a model patient everytime I see my doctor
The best I could manage was say that 'my mood is low'
And 'I've been overtaking my meds the last couple of weeks'
Big fat lie, more like the last couple of years
He questioned me some and eventually agreed to reduce the olanzapine, something I've wanted him do for a long time now
But he had no other suggestions
And that's my fault really for not being completely honest
But who wants to admit that there on the edge
That they fantasise about their own death
That everyday is a fresh hell
I've seen this doctor once a week, every week for the past 8 years
I think that's part of the problem
He knows me so well now
He has seen me at my worst and my best
I don't want to disappoint him by telling him that I'm drowning
It would be like trying to tell my father that I want to die
A lot of the time I find it easier to talk to strangers than I do people I know
I just don't want to worry people or let them down
But a stranger is a stranger so there is no fear of hurting them
This is probably why I can talk to Mary
She is still relatively new in my life and therefore not so involved
I have no trouble making eye contact with Mary but can't with my doctor
It has crossed my mind that I should change doctors
But he is the only doctor in my area that can prescribe methadone
And so I continue to play well
Continue to make believe that I am ok

My parents though, are not willing to let my abusing my meds continue
We have come up with a system whereby they dole out my meds depending on who is here
It takes responsibility away from me but it also removes temptation
I need to stop overtaking them
I need to stop running
I need to start dealing with whatever I'm trying to escape from
Watch this space

I had a bit of a revelation as to why I'm holding on to this illness
It suddenly occurred to me that this is the only thing I have
Other people have jobs, friends, college, hobbies
All I have is this
Other people excel at something, be it work, education or a favourite past time
This is the only thing I am good at
Others have degrees and PHD's
I have a first class honours in anorexia/bulimia
A degree in fucked-up-ness
My eating disorder is like a full time job
I work hard all week ie restricting and exercise
And I expect a big fat pay check in the form of weight loss
It's the only thing I think about
The only thing I talk about
Weight, food and numbers occupy my every thought
Others stand out because they are an expert in their chosen field
My chosen field just happens to be disordered eating and drug addiction
I stand out because I have an eating disorder
I stand out because I was a drug addict
Not the best thing in the world to be known for but al least I stand out
Without it I am just a girl
Average
Mundane
Banal
Just another face in the crowd
As much as I don't like to admit it my issues make me different
Although it could also be argued that I am just another girl with an eating disorder
No different to millions of girls the world over
But in my mind I am unique

Gosh, I think I have officially stopped making sense
Does anyone know what I mean?

The Crying Game

I saw Mary this morning
I actually thought I was ok until she started asking me about my week
Then I remembered that I had overtaken my meds every day
Then I remembered spending up to 3 hours on the stepper every day
Blurred images of me marching from my kitchen to my bathroom every half an hour
The meds give me a ravenous appetite and I binged and purged like it was going out of fashion
I didn't really notice during the week how messed up my behaviours were
But then again I was out of my head
I couldn't make eye contact with Mary
I was afraid she could see through to the blackness of my soul
She asked me to read the letter I wrote to my eating disorder
I started but tears were streaming down my face and I couldn't continue
She read the bit about my having a passive deathwish and she paused
She asked me how I would rate my mood from one to ten
I said 3
She asked me if I had a plan
I said I did but I know I won't go through with it
She said I should go to my doctor today and tell him
I said I would but I knew in my heart that I wouldn't
Halfway through the session I felt an extreme urge to run out the door
To tell her that I couldn't do this anymore
Death scare me but life scares me more
I stayed and answered her questions but my heart wasn't in it
As she spoke about 'regular eating' I was already planning a fast
No food and few fluids

This would be so much easier if people didn't care so much
It would be so very easy to vanish if I didn't think that I'd be leaving a trail of hurt and pain behind me
But they do care and that is the only reason that I'm hanging on
My weight went up this week
Only slightly but still a gain
Another reason to hate myself and beat myself up emotionally
She told me the number which I didn't want to know
Now I have to get lower than that number
Now it's imperative that I'm never that number again
I drove home in the driving rain at break neck speed
Only half paying attention
Willing the car to veer out of control
But of course it didn't

So where to go from here?
Down the rabbit hole that is anorexia?
Or take Mary's advice and eat regularly?
She said that everything will improve when I eat that way
My mood, my energy, my will to live
But I think of myself in recovery and I can't quite picture it
It's hard to imagine having a job or going to college, having a circle of friends, a social life and hobbies
I told Mary that I just want to be on my own
Or rather I just want to be alone with my eating disorder
Give her the control because I don't want it anymore
Let her call the shots
I'm  just so very tired of having to fight
I'm so sick of the tug-of-war going on in my head 24 hours a day
Why not give in and just be done with it
Happiness seems so elusive
Peace of mind is a distant dream I once had
I used to be a girl with a dream, now I am a girl living in a nightmare
The thought of having to fight this thing every day for the rest of my life is too much
I 'd rather hold up my white flag and surrender
Inside my head is chaotic
Different voices fighting for control
Every day a fresh hell
That's why sleep is the only release I get
I look forward to sleep
That's why I overtake my meds
Just to get a break from the monsters in my head
Sleeping forever is attractive
I curse the day this illness came in to my life
I didn't want to be this way
I didn't choose anorexia
She choose me
Why, I don't know
Now she is here, an unwelcome guest in my body and mind
Unwilling to let go
Even just a little bit

Something needs to happen, one way or the other
What, I just don't know.........

In a different life

I saw my doctor on Monday as I do every Monday morning
Being in a methadone programme I have to see him once a week
We seem to have run out of health related topics to talk about
This week the subject of swimming came up and I was telling him that I used to be a competitive swimmer
Straight away he asked me if I had been sexually abused at my swimming club
I said no but that there was someone who was borderline inappropriate
'Why do you ask' I said
He said because sexual abuse is common in people with anorexia
Of course I knew that already but I am not one of those people
I have been asked that question many times over the years but thankfully no I've never been sexually abused
I guess people look for a reason as to why I developed an eating disorder
They presume there must have been some dramatic reason as to why this happened
Some great trauma
In my case there was no great trauma
More like a million little traumas
I suppose that's the same thing
I think people look for something or someone to blame but the truth is there is not always a reason as to why we are the way we are

Then we spoke about the bone scan I have to go for next week
He said no to be surprised if I have osteoporosis
He spoke at length about how when people are given a diagnosis, they stop being people and start becoming a patient
He said when people are told they are sick, they start to act sick
I could relate to this around my eating disorder
When I was diagnosed my first thought was 'Well I'm anorexic now, I better start acting anorexic'
The mind is a very powerful thing
Once I was labelled as 'anorexic' and 'sick' I began to live up to these diagnosis
Especially the word 'sick'
I've been told I am sick my whole life
If enough people tell you this then it must be true
Labels are dangerous things
It boxes us off and puts us in categories
And once labelled it's very hard to get rid of that label
I still consider myself a drug addict even though I haven't used in 2 years
I understand that people need a word to describe what ever is wrong with us but I think we need to be careful when handing out these labels
For me, I don't know where my eating disorder ends and Ruby begins
We are so intertwined
Like a snake coiled around a tree
But I am not anorexic, I have anorexia
I am not a drug addict, I'm a recovering drug addict

This night 2 years ago I put on a Halloween dance show with 20 kids
I used to be a hip hop teacher
I remember when I saw the ad in the shop window 'Hip hop teacher wanted'
Even though my background was ballet and I had never done hip hop in my life, I applied for the job, which I then got
I taught myself hip hop from DVDs
Within 2 weeks I had three dance classes going
Looking back I can't quite believe I did that
That I had the confidence to get up in front of a class of kids and teach them
It seems like a life time ago
At the time my weight was quite healthy and things were going quite well
I taught for almost 2 years
We put on 3 shows in that time
But then things started to go wrong
We practised in a boxing club and there was a proper weighing scales there
I started to weigh myself again
Then a friend commented that I had lost weight
I weighed myself and I had indeed lost half a stone
This immediately triggered me
I began to restrict again
Then the dancing became too much
Over night I lost all confidence and couldn't find the strength to continue
I told the kids I was taking some time off but 2 years later I still haven't gone back and I can't see myself going back any time soon
It's sad because I loved it but I just can't imagine going back
I feel bad that I let the kids down
And myself
Maybe some day........