Eating disorders awareness week 2019

I didn't just wake up one day and decide not to eat.
It started with difficulties at work. I wasn't coping, was crippled with anxiety and living with depression.
There were warning signs that those around me noticed which I brushed aside.
It couldn't be happening again.

In 2011 I was discharged from the community eating disorders team and vowed 'never again.'
After several relapses of Anorexia since 1985, I was determined this was the last time. I was educated, had a good understanding of the illness and a supportive network of family and friends.
I was sure I had the strength and knowledge to not allow this insidious illness to take hold of me again.

But it did....
It chipped away bit by bit, slowly questioning every morsel I ate, getting into my head, punishing me physically and emotionally.
I tried to get help but at first no-one was interested.
My BMI wasn't low so everything must be OK, right?
Wrong!!
In 2016 I saw a sympathetic Doctor who after looking at my history made a referral to the ed team.
This is where my long road to recovey began.
The process was hard. My anorexia was ingrained to the point where I would only allow myself a drink if I'd completed a certain amount of steps on my fitbit.
I was an emotional wreck and fading physically.

During my time with the ed team I worked on myself.
With a combination of cognitive analytical therapy, compassion focused therapy and emdr, I began to understand more about how I think, my emotional responses and my triggers.
After 2 hospital admissions I had started the refeeding process which helped my cognition immensely.  It wasn't easy and my safe bubble had been popped. Keeping on track was at times emotionally draining. Acceptance of my new size does not come easily but with compassion I am learning to like myself a bit more.
With each relapse I have learned something new.
I have learned how important peer support is, especially in a hospital setting.
I have learned that I am not responsible for past trauma.
I have learned to be honest if I'm struggling, with myself and those around me.
I have strategies and tools in place along with a wellness recovery action plan.
So on eating disorders awareness week i want to offer hope to those still struggling.  There is a life out there not ruled by calories, exercise or scales.
It won't happen overnight, recovery is a process, but it's a process worth fighting for.

I can't say, "never again," but I will say, "Anorexia, I shall be watching out for you and I can beat you."

To absent friends.

9 years ago tomorrow I lost my best friend.  In real terms I lost her the year before when our friendship broke down. I have deep regret that we never patched things up before she died but that was a choice I made, and one I have to live with.
I first met X when our children were at Nursery school together.
Our friendship started as a walk to the school, the occasional coffee and developed into something a lot stronger and at the end a very damaging toxic relationship.
We spent a lot of time together and for the majority of the time, things were good.
Our partners got on and we looked forward to Friday nights out, Carnival nights, fireworks, Birthdays and Boxing day celebrations.  We had fun, lots of it.
We shared stories of our pasts, both of us had skeletons and things we would rather forget.  At first it made our relationship stronger but by the end it just gave her further ammunition to hurt me.
I wasn't allowed to have any other friends and she would certainly let me know about it if I dared to speak to anyone whilst we were out.  She would blank me for weeks at a time and in hindsight I think her insecurities were ingrained from an early age.
I tried so hard to please her, to make her feel special but I ignored the warning signs.
I was scared of her.  Scared of her threats but also scared of being alone.
I pulled out all the stops for her 40th Birthday.  We went shopping, lunch out and I arranged a party inviting her family and found an old school friend who was a stripper as entertainment.  It was a joy to see her so happy.
On that day X told me what I was allowed and not allowed to wear at her celebration.

Her health started to deteriorate and she was diagnosed with a heart problem.
I sat in the recovery room with her partner after her operation. Took her in her favourite food and stayed with her for hours at a time.
After her recovery she started to turn her life around, adjusting her diet and stopping smoking.
I was proud of her.
At was at this time that Kev and I were planning our wedding. Best friends should be sharing in the joy and the planning but this wasn't to be.
I can only guess that she was either jealous or upset that we were marrying abroad and couldn't be part of it, despite my attempts to involve her.

In the April of that year was when things went drastically wrong.  It would be unfair of me to go through the details of the catalyst but what evolved was 12 months of abuse, lies, fear and the end of our friendship.
I was scared to go out.  She would come to the Pub I worked on an evening and tell customers lies about me, threaten to beat me up and even came to my house where I just sat and took her abuse.
My Hen Night and Wedding party was tainted with the underlying fear of her turning up and making a show.  Thankfully this didn't happen.

I was sceptical at first of my new evolving friendships as this toxic relationship was all I knew.
How could I trust others? What were their intentions?
I still struggle with this at times and have a great fear of what others may think of me. Certain songs trigger good and bad memories......

My friend continued to struggle with her health and after another heart operation sadly passed away on May 26th 2009.
She had tried to contact me prior to this and had left a message on my phone asking to meet somewhere neutral.  Her partner explained that she wanted to see me as she remembered how I had supported her the previous time.
I chose to ignore her call.  I regret this and wonder what would have changed if I had spoken to her.
I knew I did not want to rekindle the friendship as too much had been said.  There are certain things that can't be unsaid.
I heard about her death on social media, It hit me hard.  I was there for her family, helped with the arrangements as if nothing had changed.
I visited the chapel of rest to say goodbye. Went to her funeral, and drank fizzy wine with a friend to say goodbye to the end of a chapter and toast new beginnings.

I do not believe she was a bad person.  She had been dealt a very tough hand growing up and didn't know how to cope with it. She didn't deserve judgement she deserved help and understanding.
I wish I had given her more of that.

R.I.P you mixed up wonderful Woman. xxx

Labels are for Jars, not people.

My name is Jackie and I am a person........

Around 16 months ago, after an assessment with my Psychiatrist, I was sat in her consulting room waiting on the results of her diagnosis. At this time you could say I was, not quite myself. 

As she sat at her computer scrolling through the many notes the team had made, the first words she said were, 'now try not to get too hung up on the wording of this.'  Well that was it, I was already into over thinking mode as to what variety of labelling she was going to put on my already fragile shell.

Where am I going to fit in?  How am I going to fit in, I already felt like a misfit, a square peg in a round hole.

'You have Anorexia, recurrent severe depressive disorder, complex trauma ptsd, anxiety and emotionally unstable personality disorder aka borderline personality disorder or bpd.'

Nice suit I thought, my trick cyclist was a snappy dresser.

OK, you can give me 4 of those but bpd.... take it back.  Put it in the reject bin.

My issue with this diagnosis was a person in my past had bpd, and there was no way I was anything like her.  I googled it (don't we all) going through the diagnostic criteria crossing off everything that didn't apply.  I was not going to be like her.

Recently I was doing some work on emotional regulation and my nurse explained it can help with aspects of bpd.  Again I would not accept that this was part of me, how could it?

After working with a psychologist (who doesn't do labels) I have started to use positive coping techniques to help when I feel overwhelmed, in threat mode or feel the need to use negative coping behaviours.  I can now challenge negative thoughts about myself and it helps with over thinking.  I'm no where near being fixed but I am making small steps to recovery...medication helps too.

The point of this post is that I am starting to accept that yes maybe I do have traits of a personality disorder, it does not mean that I am that person I knew before. Some people are just dickheads, and she was a dickhead. 

Having a diagnostic label does not define me.  Sometimes labels come off and you might get dog food when you are expecting peas.

I am a person, an individual.  I am not my anorexia, my depression or my (ahem) personality disorder.

Dom,  (lovely psychologist Man who always wears a grey and purple jumper on a Wednesday) showed me a chart of my weights from 2010 until present day.

He asked me to look at my highest weight and think about who was  Jackie then?

Good shout Dom.  That Jackie was confident and funny, she needs to be found again.

Maybe I've been labelled as tinned prunes when really there's a sweet pud inside.

My name is Jackie and I live with  anorexia, depression, anxiety, ptsd and bpd.  I am a person not my illness.

Tell It How It Is.

I have heard the phrase 'Recovery is a journey,' many times. This is a journey 5 years ago which I thought and hoped had ended.  Most journeys end with something pleasant, something worth the wait, with a clear road, no red lights or diversions.
 Other journeys may need a bit of refuelling, a top up of oil and a battery recharge before reaching the final destination.
So where did I take a wrong turn?
Why is this shiny new Porsche  now feeling like a burnt out old banger!!

I knew that it would never be an easy ride as I'd driven this road before but I thought I knew which way  I was steering. I didn't expect to be back in a dark tunnel, but maybe this is how 'it' maps out.
I can see how it started and I know how it can end.

The depression kicked in first. Slowly bringing me down, putting me down , letting me down.
Its friend anxiety paid me a visit too, preying on my every thoughts, picking at my confidence, whispering over my shoulder to do better, sitting on my chest and squeezing the breath out of me, taking away my voice, my passions, my beliefs in me. My trips outside became less and less and usually included earphones in, head down, and panic. My time indoors would be spent just sat, doing nothing.
I stopped being I will, and became I can't.

The energy it takes on a daily basis to function in this frame of mind is immense.  Not answering the door unless I am expecting someone, hiding in my bedroom away from the noise.
The fear of being outside, in places where I can't get away, where I don't feel safe. Where I think people are looking at me because 'They know.'
Sleeping for most of the day through medication or just the sheer need for rest, and not being able to do a simple task without needing a rest again.  Having a really good day then feeling it emotionally and physically the day after because you have given as much as you can.
The food issues wheedled their way in.....skipping meals due to lack of time, routine or circumstance.  What started as something most people do, was sneaking up on me and waiting to catch hold.
I didn't recognise it at first, but others did.
I was questioning my relationship around food and making excuses to myself and others.
'Its the medication, its a normal reaction to being depressed, I eat every day, but I'm not underweight.'
Yes, all the above is still true, but why I am feeling driven to continue, why can I not eat 'normally,' why do I get anxious around food.'
The fact that I am still questioning myself is a positive thing. It means I still have my healthy voice telling my ill voice that I don't want it.
Often my ill voice wins, but the healthy voice is still up for the fight.


Things are getting better.
I am less tired and more focused this week.  The tablets seem to be doing some good and a friend suggested grounding techniques and mindfulness, something I never thought would be for me, but so far so good.
I am aiming to get out each day.  Either for a walk, a visit to a friend or the dreaded supermarket.
I am now getting quite good at focusing and counting on items at the checkout to bring me back to the here and now, rather than the anxiety and sensations of panic.
I set myself goals, however small or insignificant and try not to berate myself if I haven't managed them.

I have seen a nurse at my local practise for bloods etc. A counsellor told me to think of this as self care as opposed to medical.  I think she was right.  I am lucky that I am still classed as being within a healthy weight range for my height ( I've apparently shrunk!!)  I have to tell myself this does not mean that I do not need or deserve any professional help, The only person judging me is myself.

This is me getting off the highway to hell and back on the road to recovery.

Advent Calendar. Day 11. And breathe.....

What do you have to help you cope?

to remind you to care for you?

to help you to keep pushing forward?
what keeps you safe and warm?

As I write this post I am aware it is Dec 19th and I am in fact 8 days behind!!!  

I look around me and I see ironing that is piled up waiting to be done, Xmas presents that still need to be wrapped, a spare room awaiting visitors that hasn't been tidied, a shopping list that hasn't been written!!

My mother-in-law needs her medication ordered, I haven't bought a raffle prize for the skittles match tomorrow evening, if I don't get back in time from bathing the Mother-In-Law tomorrow I may not even make the skittles match!!!  I need to call the GP tomorrow whilst I am at work to speak about Mum In Law, cant do it in my lunch break as I'm working through so I can go home early in order to do the bathing!!!!! Its only 5 days until Xmas and only 3 days until my Sister and her 4 children come to stay.

I have a hideous cold, feel like utter shite, am anxious, stressed and could scream!!!

So today's topic is 'What do you have to help you cope, to remind you to care for you.? As I sit here with a very large glass of white, my initial response should be wine........ what I do is try and put things into perspective and prioritise. I need to learn to ask for help and really mean it when I do ask.  Maybe that way I will get the response I need and the response that takes just a little off my shoulders.

Until then i will have my wine, the ironing may end up hidden in a cupboard until the visitors have gone but that's OK.