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One of our forum members who would prefer to be known as Sarah is going to keep a blog of her recovery. Recovery is different for everyone but often it can be really helpful to hear how someone else is getting on and how they are coping with the challenge of recovery. Sarah is being really brave putting herself out there and talking about her experience.
So much has happened. At the beginning of the month, I was feeling pretty negative, worried about my body, not being good enough for life. Not being perfect for the play. Still worried someone would turn around and tell me that I don't look perfect to play the perfect daughter. Note, this is an imaginary, two dimensional character, I try to remind myself that I want to be a real, three dimensional human being. The first challenge was obtaining a wedding dress. I scoured charity shops with my boyfriend. Fortunately my fear that all brides diet themselves into tiny dresses was unfounded, this one fit perfectly. Then I needed to find a floaty summery one. Precisely the kind of dress I'd never wear. I'm not hugely comfortable with my feminine side. But we found one! It's character appropriate, I'm comfortable in it and I feel like the character in it – the ultimate test for any costume!
I'm fitter now which helps my relationship with my body. Not because I've been exercising crazily, just the right amount. It means I see my body more as a tool and food means fuel. An increased appetite has been slightly anxiety inducing but I think I've adjusted. I've had issues with exercise in the past, it controlled where I lived, where I worked because I get around by bike but I feel confident now that I adjust to changes in activity without too much anxiety.
Something peculiar happened last week. I had forgotten that a play rehearsal was starting early. I was mortified at being late. The next few days I was convinced that I'd gained a stone. Obviously impossible, but this was how I felt. I recognised that it was out of guilt and eventually forgave myself for being late but it was hard work. I don't know what to do about that kind of thing!
Sex. It's more complicated than I thought. I've had to get over my general anxiety over any physical affection and poor body image and I still can't have sex because it hurts too much! Last year I watched a film called Kinsey, about the man who wrote the book 'Sexual Behaviour in the Human Male'. It's a really good film and quite educational. Also, when Kinsey gets married, they can't have sex because it hurts Mrs Kinsey too much. They go to the doctor and it's because Mrs Kinsey has a thickened hymen – the membrane across the vagina. Apparently quite common. I've always been slightly ignorant of my own biology. So long spent seeing my body as the most disgusting thing on earth is not conducive to wanting to know it and understand it. After the first couple of times of trying and it hurting, I looked it up and decided it was probably that I wasn't relaxed enough. But it hadn't felt natural either. We tried again and this time everything felt natural except the pain. I'm not convinced it's supposed to hurt that much! I've tried using tampons and not been able to insert them far enough. So it's probably time to visit the doctor, if only for reassurance that there's nothing physically wrong. I don't plan to go immediately but I think I will go. I've discussed this with my boyfriend, which I'm glad I was able to do. Discussing anything 'personal' is something I find a challenge, but in this case it doesn't just affect me. That's the weird thing about being in a relationship. There's someone else to consider. When I find things overwhelming, I often hide myself away. In this case, that wouldn't help. And I don't want to be in a sexual relationship with someone that I can't discuss sex with. I'm not finding this overwhelming either, it's just something to deal with.
I went to a counselling centre. I turned up one day and one of the people running the centre had had a cancellation so I borrowed her. I explained that, although my relationship with food and myself was much improved, I wasn't where I wanted to be. She suggested a few things, one of which was a few sessions with one of their counsellors which I will take up once the play is over. Another thing was to physically write my blog on paper, rather than just typing it on my computer. So I'm trying that out. I've always preferred writing stories on paper but hadn't made the same connection with my blog. I think when I'm writing personal things, I prefer the distance of typing the feelings out. If I write them, with my own handwriting, it's different. It's connected to me.
Is a piece of cake just a piece of cake? I was getting used to the mindset that food is food. It doesn't make me a better or worse person for eating or not eating it, no matter what 'it' is. So, on a recent day trip, a friend was agonising over whether to eat a piece of cake. I'd already decided if I wanted to eat it and I wasn't already full then it would be fine. If I'd been full then I would have refused it because I wouldn't have wanted it. But my friend making such a big deal out of it that it confused me. I thought I was thinking normally, yet here was a friend acting as if a piece of cake was a major decision. I think this is why I've had problems recovering in the past. I'd start thinking 'normally' then someone would make similar comments and I'd assume I was right before. I spent the whole afternoon considering it. Eventually I decided I'd made the right decision. Cake is just cake.
April started off so well. Bouncing around with tons of energy, socialising, feeling great after having a few days off. Then I got a cold sore which spread all over my lips, tongue and throat. Oww. Couldn't eat, couldn't smile, couldn't laugh, couldn't yawn. Owwww. I got medication which made me feel even worse. Doctor thought it was probably from doing too much and being run down. Not being able to eat anything except through a straw, I was surprised at how quickly the eating disorder thoughts took over again. I'd only been thinking the previous week about how it could be useful if I ever got into a situation where I couldn't eat. Which in itself is a strange thought to have. As soon as I was able to eat more, they went away quite a bit. Except I'm now left with worse body image. I just received an email containing photos from a short film I did, and I felt like I'd been slapped looking at them. The costume shows a lot of flesh, it totally appropriate to the character, but I really don't like what I saw. I find it really hard to admit that I don't like my body. In fact it's not that I don't like it, I hate it. And I've never said that to anyone. I more or less thought that would go away by itself with eating normally but I guess not. I'm feeling particularly negative right now, I didn't getand feeling fit and healthy. I'm feeling quite negative about life at the moment, I didn't get much done in the last few weeks so I feel behind, the medication made me feel ill and tired and I'm trying to take it easy but keep getting invites for things (which I'm limiting) and this week I started rehearsals for a new play. I feel like I'm being pulled in lots of different directions, I don't want to let anyone down but I can't do everything. I told my boyfriend I couldn't go away this weekend to visit his parents, I know he was really disappointed but I need the time to get some stuff sorted and I need a few more early nights to feel better. Sunday 27th April marked one year in recovery for me but I was feeling too grotty to really appreciate it. I've also decided I need to get counselling, so I want to make a list of counsellors and find out who might be best for me. After this play is over, I am going to learn to relax and take a break from doing anything outside of work.
My character in this new play is the perfect daughter to a woman having a nervous breakdown. She is imaginary. I keep worrying that I don't look perfect for it. That I'll need to lose weight for it. I don't, it won't make it a better performance. But it does make me challenge my idea of what perfection is. The character description refers to her being a tall athletic girl. I'm not tall and I don't look athletic. I was still cast, so it's clearly not an issue for the director. Not to mention this is amateur. And as much as I can't change my height for the performance, I can't change my weight either. This character is imaginary, she doesn't exist, and neither does perfection!
Wow there's been a lot going on. One play finished. The next day we started rehearsals for another. Then the reading, an audition and a rehearsal for a third play. Murder mystery rehearsals. Secret agent team building event. Rehearsed and shot a short film. Finished at one job. Started another.
I wondered before what would happen if I kept going at such a pace. Well, I've discovered that I get irritable if I don't get enough sleep and that fun things become stressful because they are just another thing I have to get done. A good learning experience I think, and I'd do it again but I know that something switched off inside of me. The energy and focus it took to get through the hours and ignore the tiredness made me feel quite blank. It was all about what I had to get done and I felt if I stopped, I might not start again, so I couldn't let myself get sidetracked. It's the same blankness I felt when I was actively eating disordered. Now I have four days off work with no rehearsals scheduled and I feel free and I'm just going to enjoy it and not worry about my to do list.
Bad few days. Wednesday I went to the doctor with what I thought was a lump in my breast. False alarm, fortunately. Thursday I turned 25, I had a lovely day, went out for lunch with a friend, watched a film and then had the first rehearsal for a new play that my boyfriend and I are in. I went to stay at his afterwards, and decided I felt ready for sex. I didn't feel self conscious, insisted that the lights were on, didn't feel nervous. But it didn't happen, I was much more tense than I realised and it hurt so we didn't go any further. I thought I was okay with that but in retrospect, I think I felt defective. Then the next day, I received a voicemail message from an agency, saying that the job I'd been waiting for, and had turned down two jobs for, still didn't have a start date. I'd spent the whole week waiting for this start date, unable to plan, resulting in what felt like an unproductive week. I could have done so much if I'd known. I didn't feel in control and I find it hard to cope with so much unstructured time if I don't know about it in advance! I end up thinking too much and it's overwhelming. And I'd been so proud of myself for turning one of the jobs down as the only reason I would have accepted it was because of the distance I could have cycled to get there. I considered it, but made the right decision.
Later on Friday, I went to rehearsal. The director had already told my dad I wasn't needed, but he didn't remember to tell me until I got back home. I now felt very low and frustrated and horrible, and I binged. The first real, unquestionable binge in ten months and I felt awful. Saturday felt even worse and I did it again. Guilt. I'd forgotten this guilt. Having not lived with it for so long, it felt like the end of the world. I felt like I'd blown it, like the last ten months had never happened, like my life was over. That evening I went to a dinner party at my boyfriend's house, I didn't feel sociable but warmed up when I got there. The food situation was fine, I didn't respond to the binges by restricting, I carried on eating normally, even managed the dessert. Then later, we tried to have sex again. Same problem. I think I was trying too much too soon. Even though I have told myself that there is no rush, I still seem to have it in my head that there are things I should be doing though I think my body is now telling me no. I don't have a natural trust for my body or its instincts so this is really hard, I've spent so much time trying to override them, ignoring hunger and satiety and tiredness for my mind's preference for destructive behaviour. I've not yet been for counselling and this past week has signalled to me that I need to go if I am to get any further and prevent a relapse. I have to remember that a slip doesn't constitute a relapse. I can do it.
Great week so far! I haven't been working so it's been nice to sleep in and try and relax, despite the drilling and other commotion as the house is invaded by plumbers and builders changing the boiler and other things. I've spent the evenings rehearsing, three different projects on the go this week and grabbing the chance to see my boyfriend on the one free evening I had.
Monday night was a challenge. One of my acting jobs is corporate role play and we were rehearsing sexual harassment cases, the idea being that when the actor participates in a pretend tribunal, they have some kind of memory to draw on. So we role played events from a case study and I played the lecherous man who carried out the harassment. It was horrible, making comments about a woman's body, swearing, invading personal space and seeing a woman entirely through her physical appearance. It was hard to switch off afterwards and I found myself desperately wanting food on the way home. Fortunately, I was on a train and had to sit with my feelings and work out what was bothering me. I was nervous about seeing my boyfriend. I'm a virgin and we've gotten quite close to sleeping together a few times. The years I've spent entirely self involved, with nothing but food and weight and exercise and numbers in my head, with self hatred, self punishment more important than anything else are melting away but still somehow present. Despite ten months of more or less normal eating, my body image is still fairly poor. It has improved though, I no longer feel so enormous that people are staring at me as I walk down the street. I feel like a human being, not some strange unnatural creature that is so alien to everyone else. I don't question that I deserve to eat, unless I'm particularly stressed or upset and then I try to talk myself round. This has taken a lot of practice and often I have to tell myself that I wouldn't refuse my best friend food if they felt like this, so why should I refuse it? I used to hate being touched, I was scared to be touched, it felt threatening and unnatural and I was scared a lot. Now a lot of this has become natural. I think it just took time for me to grow into my feelings, while I was actively eating disordered I couldn't handle my feelings. Part of me really wants to force myself along, make myself ready and catch up with every one else. Be normal. We are getting closer but there's no rush, I'm still growing up, catching up. Sex is only one part of a relationship though I sometimes feel inadequate because I have no experience and it's in my head all the time, making it a issue. I think one of the reasons it makes me nervous is that is makes me vulnerable. It's letting someone in, mentally and physically and I'm used to shutting people out, keeping up a facade of normality with everyone at arm's length.
A victory I wanted to share: it's shortly my birthday and at rehearsal, someone I don't even know that well surprised me with a gift and a cake. It was really nice of her, and I was touched. It did however present me with the issue of what to do with the cake. As it would have been rude not to have a slice as she had gone to such effort so I did and didn't feel too uncomfortable. I don't feel guilty and I'm pleased I got through the situation!
I couldn't think of anything to write about. So many different things pulling me in different directions, I've hardly had time to think. Then it occurred to me that being busy is a great topic. It seems that everyone and everything wants a piece of me. Before I began my recovery, I would make myself as busy as humanly possible, involved in a million activities to avoid binging and would then use binging as a distraction from all the things I had to do. Now I don't have that option!
Things really kicked off last month, with job interviews, play rehearsals, drama school applications, a new temp job in the middle of nowhere and suddenly my mornings were very early, my bedtimes very late. So what to do? I actually had to deal with all the anxiety of getting everything done and cope with new problems like the washing machine breaking down. So I started writing lists. I have an endless to-do list which I refer to all the time and put everything on, even if it is something like changing the batteries on my bike lights! It makes me feel better! I also have an online calendar that I can access at home and at work.
Overall things are still going well food wise, though when I'm tired I tend to want sugary foods but at least I recognise this. There was one night where it could have all gone wrong. During the run of the play, I'd decided to eat at the local student cafe very night. The theatre was on the campus, I could go there straight from work. Perfect plan, I thought. Until the Friday night. The cafe had closed early. I panicked. This was not part of The Plan. I was hungry, I couldn't think, I just didn't know what to do, I wanted to burst into tears. I couldn't face the thought of going to the pub or the local fast food places. Especially not on my own, I get so self conscious. After a few minutes of pacing up and down, I calmed down. There was a small grocery store round the corner. The Green Room at the theatre had basic kitchen facilities. I bought some supplies for tea. Everything was fine again.
When I'm tired, I forget how far I've come. I forget that a year ago I was depressed, directionless and very, very eating disordered. During the early days of trying to eat normally, I would frantically call a friend at the supermarket because I couldn't decide what to get. I still get overwhelmed at the supermarket. So much choice, it's too much, I have to go in with a List and get what's on The List, but woe betide there not be something on The List. Now I've jumped straight into rehearsals for the next play and things are still just as busy but I'm learning how to deal with all this activity in a healthier way. Though my cat's life still looks appealing!
I am in recovery from an eating disorder.
I'm 24, from the South of England, a temp and trying to be an actor. I was 15 when I first developed an eating disorder, clinically known as non purging bulimia. 27th April 2007 was the day I began my recovery. And every day is a challenge in a new way, I no longer have my behaviours to hide behind so I have to deal with what's really going on. And I don't always like it. I'm not going to tell you my height or weight or clothes size. It doesn't matter.
I'd offered to write a blog in the summer. I was about to be assessed by the local Eating Disorder clinic and it was the kind of thing I would have liked to be able to read. Then they assessed me and decided I was normal. Or at least, did not have a clinical eating disorder. They made an appointment for me to see a dietician and suggested I get some counselling so I didn't relapse. I was very surprised. I'd switched from binging and restricting almost every day for the previous eight and a half years to relatively normal eating. I still had no clue what normal eating was but apparently I was doing it. And it seemed that doing it for three months was long enough. I was sure it was a blip, I didn't feel much different and I'd heard stories before of people spontaneously recovering and then going backwards. Six months later I am still 'normal'.
For another few months things carried on in much the same direction. I carried on with eating properly, decided on a new career as an actor and went for my first professional audition to join a murder mystery company. I got in. I started to notice differences in myself since my eating had changed – I felt less self conscious about eating, about my appearance. I wasn't plagued with guilt and didn't have to worry about my father discovering the evidence of a binge.
Then in November, my life changed rapidly in the course of a week. I started a new temp job that I hated, my disabled mother went into hospital and I got a new boyfriend. I think each of those would have been a little anxiety inducing, but they happened all at once. I didn't have eating disordered behaviour to fall back on, I didn't know what to do. So I quit the temp job after a week of hell and got a new one. I knew that needing information would help me with dealing with my mother's situation so when I visited, I pumped the nurses for information and news and learned as much as possible. The result of this hospital stay was the news that my mother's mental and physical health will just continue to decline. Not nice. And it took me a while to accept. Well, that's a continuing process really, I sometimes stick my head in the sand and avoid thinking about it as much as possible. Then there's my boyfriend. I'd never had a proper relationship before, far too busy with, uh, other things so I felt left behind in that department. Still a 15 year old. I got to know him a little when we did a play over the summer and we all got together quite a bit afterwards. Because we were friends first, developing a romantic relationship was a lot easier and less anxiety inducing than when I'd dated people I didn't really know. And this time I had less of a secret, I was always ashamed of having an eating disorder when I was actively engaged in it. Now I am in recovery, it's less of an issue. I still have a lot of social anxiety with food situations, and I have very poor body image. I'm also still very concerned with planning what I'm going to eat and when, partly because I'm a temp and I don't know what the kitchen facilities will be like with each assignment.
Things have changed so much for me in the past year and sometimes I wonder where I am and where I'm going. To be honest, I just don't know. I don't know what I'm going to write about – I shall see what challenges come up. If you have any questions I'd be glad to try to answer them. I'm still learning how to cope with things without falling back on my eating disorder and I hope I can be helpful to others.
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