Must do better.

The past week has been exhausting. I tried to put the anger I felt after I was dismissed from my job into something positive.  I emailed the company suggesting they revised the way they support staff with a mental health problem, and received the bog standard ' we take all our employees health and well being seriously' email back.

I have been trying to focus on the positives after going through a week of emotions and separating them from the facts. Although I may not agree with their decision, I understand why they made it.

Today I received another blow. 

My care coordinator/eating disorder nurse who has been working with me since late 2016 has made the decision to transfer my care to Dom my therapist. This is not all bad as we have a good therapist/patient relationship but unfortunately the sessions are time limited.

My nurses reasoning for the change, is that I am not managing weight restoration and have only maintained for the past few weeks.

After my discharge from Hospital (that's for another blog post) I agreed to reach a certain BMI, this was unsuccessful so the goal was decreased and then we compromised on a  maintenance weight.

Although I am engaging in weekly therapy, I know if my weight drops, cognitively I will not be able engage properly as starvation has a detrimental effect on the brain and your way of thinking. 

I would be lying if I said I didn't know this was coming.

NHS waiting lists for eating disorder outpatient treatment are long and although the ed team in Somerset has increased over the past 8 years they still struggle.

So where does that leave me now?  

I feel sadness at the loss of my support; failure that I was unable to stick to my meal plan; guilt that I have let my friends and family down; not good enough, rejected and alone.

Above all I feel scared. Very scared. 

I understand the reasoning behind the decision, (must try harder) and am trying to use wise mind as opposed to emotional mind.

Someone on a facebook group said to me, 'Please don't take it personally or use it as a reason to mistreat yourself.'  She is very right. I did not use my 'go to' behaviours instead I used compassion and kindness towards myself, something I struggle with daily.

Tomorrow is another day, another small step, another learning curve.

If all I can do at the moment is keep myself safe then that is enough. 

Must do better.

I'm back!!

I can't believe Its been nearly 18 months since my last entry.  Apologies to my followers and hope there are still some readers out there.
My lack of posts is due to lots going on with my mental health (surprise surprise) and a liveware issue of foggy brain forgetting my log in details! I think today's porridge must have given my brain a well needed kick start.
So what's been going on?
2017 started with... actually I have no idea how it started.  I can only presume it was with a glass in my hand and the intention to change my life for the better.
I had been absent from work since the previous June and decided to drop down to a less stressful role.  This initially worked out well as was only a 5 minute walk to work and my phased return initially meant I could work around my meals and my numerous medical appointments.
For someone who does not do mornings well, it was bliss to roll out of bed and have work practically on my doorstep. Unfortunately things did not work out as planned but I shall come to that later.
March was my big 50th which I spent on a beach in the stunning Dominican Republic. Massive shout out to the Hubster and Deb and Glyn for arranging what was without a doubt the best holiday I have had and will never forget.  It was the most relaxed I had been in ages and I even managed a practically all-nighter at a very interesting club/cabaret called the Coco Bongo.
There's life in the old dog yet, although I wont go into detail about the podium dance. 

My birthday didn't stop there either. The day we flew back I was due to go out for a drink with friends. My Son texted to say he couldn't come over and other friends said they were busy. 
I couldn't understand why Kev was pushing me to go out especially when we were both knackered and I would have settled for a coronation street omnibus, some haribo and the cat! 
Little did I know what my friends had in store, but a suprise get together along with a very good friend who had made an amzing cake and driven from Evesham.
March was a good month, things were looking up......It didn't take long for the downwards spiral.

Please don't tell me..

Please don't tell me I look well....

How you perceive me on the outside is not how I am feeling on the inside.
'Looking well'  is not being picked up by the police in the early hours of the morning after worrying your friends and family half to death...
'Looking well' does not tell you how I sleep at night, trying to shut up the dark thoughts which remain with me the next day.
'Looking well' does not explain how one day I can be bright, animated and fun; but the next the smile slips, the brightness dims, my heart is numb.
'Looking well' does not show you how many times I weighed myself this morning. How I went from elation to desperation in a period of a few seconds and how my whole day is now focused on that number.
'Looking well' is screaming 'why?'
'Looking well' is making my heart bleed.
I have no care for how I look, I just know I do not feel well.

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.

January 24th . Time To Talk

The biggest problem with medication for Depression is they generally make you feel like shit, and I have been seriously feeling like shit!

A chemical hangover is not nice.  After 10 hours sleep I should be waking up refreshed not wanting to hide my head under the pillow, wrap myself in the duvet and go into a lock down for the rest of the day..... or weekend.

I think at the moment its a bit of a balancing act, trying to get the timings right so as not to disrupt my day.

I'm functioning OK at work but really having to challenge myself with lots of self-talk. I put all my effort into focusing on my work and being the best I can, by the time I get home I really can't be arsed anymore. I am starting to get the,'whats wrong,' 'you don't seem yourself,' 'you look like you've lost weight' statements. I have learnt to smile, brush off the comments sand carry on with my day.

Why do we find it so damn hard to talk about Mental Health??  Maybe I'm scared of my colleagues responses,If I had the flu I wouldn't think twice.

February 6th is Time To Talk about Mental Health Day, maybe then we can start a change.  Just maybe I will start a conversation.

I am the 1 in 4

Many years ago whilst as a student at college, my tutor told the class that 1 in 4 of us would at some point in our lives suffer from a mental illness. I remember visually scanning the room trying to hazard a guess who would be the 'nutty' one. For one minute I never thought it would be me!

I cannot pinpoint at what age my mental health problems began, but thinking back it was probably at quite a young age. I was always a very emotional and highly strung child, my medical records noted 'attention seeking,' but not once did anyone ask me what was gong on in my life. 

I was taken to many appointments when I was in primary school, non of which I can remember much about but I was always told to tell the teacher it was 'personal.' The clinic I attended was attached to a local psychiatric hospital, the place my Mum always said I would drive her to...........
My teenage years weren't filled with the angst you would expect, they were filled with sadness, fear and dread and on reflection I can now recognise the beginnings of stress, anxiety and something I rarely discuss, self-harm.
As I left home and moved from my early teens to my late teenager years the feelings I had remained.I didn't know what to do with them or how to cope with them.....so I self medicated with alcohol.....and lots of it.
When I think back to the times I sat just numb, feeling nothing and then switching to hours of crying. I had no idea what was going on in my life!
I remember having a really positive period then sinking again. It was at this point I realised there was a difference in my behaviour and a dramatic change in my mood but still I didn't do anything about it.
In the late 80's there was still a huge stigma around mental illness, it was something that wasn't really discussed and therefore I didn't seek any professional help. It wasn't until I was in the depths of an eating disorder that I realised only with the help of friends that I had a serious problem, and sought help.
This was where my 'recovery,' albeit unsuccessful at the time from Anorexia began.
I am now recovered from my eating disorder but at times do have bouts of self- doubt mixed with anxiety and stress. I am very much a people pleaser and perfectionist. I hate to get things wrong and over think, worrying constantly.  Recently I have been feeling quite depressed again and it can hit me with no warning.  I am very mindful of this and am working to put self care strategies in place to not let it eat me up.

The main reason for this post today is in recognition of World Mental Health day and to stress that we are not all knife wielding crazy people like some tabloid newspapers like to make out!!
There has been a recent scandal with 2 major Supermarket chains selling 'Mental patient,' costumes for Halloween, suggesting that these patients were scary and you would run away from them!!
Some people have said that protesters were overreacting and it was political correctness gone mad. Take it from me, I understand the stigma of being a patient in a 'mental' hospital. I have had to be treated by a dentist whilst an in-patient who was visibly frightened to treat me!

Mental illness is scary, mental illness is isolating, but try to remember we are people just like you and I and sometime we just need to be asked if we are ok.........xxxxx

Mental Health Awareness Week, Exercise is good for the mind.

This post should have been written yesterday if not even earlier in the week, but that just about sums up how my week has been!!!  I had it mentally written it in my head at about 2 am this morning and at that point should have acted on it.  After a particularly stressful and busy day at work I came home with the beginnings of a migraine. Trying to kick it into touch I decided to go to bed at 5 pm  waking at 9.30 pm and subsequently was unable to sleep for the majority of the night.

Not a good start to my first aid training today. I'm sure at one point my lack of interest and droopy eyes would have given the instructor good reason to confuse me with the resuscitation dummy. The only visible difference was that I had legs!!

Anyway, back to the reasons behind this post. This week has been Mental Health Awareness Week, and the theme being Exercise and Well-being I thought I could share my recent experiences of exercise and fitness and the benefits to your mental health.

To a lot of people you mention exercise, and visions come to them of testosterone packed gyms, sweaty bodies, pumping iron or pounding the pavements. There is so much emphasis put on the body beautiful, the visual, improving your physique, getting a flat stomach or 'bikini body' and fat burning. What about reducing your risk of diabetes, heart disease, stroke, osteoporosis or keep your body and mind active?  Not forgetting the social aspect, enjoyment and fun. Yes.... exercise and fitness can actually be fun. Have you ever tried Zumba?

Whats going on inside of your skeleton is more important than what you look like outside of it!

I originally signed up with a personal trainer because I needed to get my body back to the strength it was before I had an operation, and also because I needed to tone up the muscles which hadn't been used due to immobility. I was aware of concerns friends had due to my history of eating disorders but was confident in my ability to be mindful of what I could achieve, and I was the one in control......or rather Phil the trainer was!

So for the past 3 weeks I have been out twice a week if not more being pushed and motivated to run, walk, jog, punch, lift kettle bells, plank, crunch, squat and various other punishing exercises. I have no idea if I have  changed my body in any way shape or form yet but what I do know is this,

* I have a great sense of achievement from reaching a goal, however small.

* I feel like I am looking after my body rather than abusing it.

* Despite the often hard routines I laugh and keep my sense of humour.

*When I have had a bad it gets rid of my tensions and angst.

* It helps me to sleep better.

* It increases my mood and energy level.

*I have an increasingly healthy appetite!

*My lung capacity has increased.

* I am motivated :)

What a brilliant list of things that improve my mental health and well being without taking medication, drinking excessively, smoking or eating too much or too little. 

Other things I have learnt from exercising:

* regardless of the size of your boobs 2 sports bras are better than one.

* star jumps are no good if you haven't done pelvic floor exercises after childbirth!

*The man on the seafront likes to watch me do chest presses so now I face his lounge window :)

*Kettle bells hurt if you hit yourself in the leg.

* My coordination is crap but makes it funny.

*When Phil says'duck' move your head out of the way or you may get hit.

* visualise someones face on the pad when boxing, I can guarantee a stronger punch.

*Star jumps are better if you sing YMCA along to them.

* The hokey cokey can be sang along to most exercises.

*When I do squats I look like I'm having a poo.

*Lycra is never attractive......end of!

*apparently I gurn a lot.

* I look like I'm having sex when doing several floor movements. (not sure how Phil knows this)

*I say, "I can't" a lot, then do it and swear.

*I like to run up grass banks, but get a little scared going back down.

So there you have it. Exercise is fun and good for you, but know your limitations. On that point I must share I'm having a week off as I've knackered my knee. My exercise this week will involve lifting a glass to my mouth and pointing the remote at the TV. Have a good weekend.

Don't Panic!!!

So yesterday I have my first ever panic attack, and it scared me. I felt totally out of control, my heart was pounding so hard I thought it was about to leave my chest, I could barely breathe, I couldn't see from the tears clouding my eyes, I feared I would either throw up if I moved or pass out if I stood up. Throughout this time I was at work. I was in a position of responsibility, caring for others, supporting staff around me and what a bloody crap job I was doing!!  I knew why It happened and I need to deal with that. I am currently not at work, advised to stay at home until Monday.
Maybe I am too sensitive, maybe I am too emotional...or just maybe I am just too fucking stupid!!
A friend said to me, turn it around, make something positive out of it, so here goes....
The past few days have been shitty. I could have smoked but I didn't.
I could have got blind drunk, but I didn't.
I could have restricted my food to numb my emotions, but I didn't.
I could have eaten mounds of chocolate and thrown up,but I didn't.
I felt stressed, sick, at times numb and emotionless and made myself eat because I knew I needed too.
This is being positive, this is turning things round, this is true recovery.
This is me saying, I am not a push over, I have the strength to deal with this. I will bounce back.....

Holding On

Holding on

Sinking deeper, losing air, dragged down.

Pressure, tight against my chest,

Trapped, enclosed, no way of escaping.

You are there,

When I reach the pit, the depth of despair,

You are there,

When I achieve my goal,

You are there when I feel small,

Waiting for the fall, the trip up, the relapse.

You lift me up with your actions,

you inspire me with your words,

You believe,

You trust,

You love.....

In me,

For me,

With me,

Holding on to your words,

Your actions,

Your faith in me.....

Thank you.

The Weight of Your Words

Picture- 'The weight Of Your Words,' Julie De Waroquier
"Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind." 
~ Rudyard Kipling

Ugly, Stupid, Freak, 
Wicked, Pathetic, Meek,
Bad, Unworthy, Fat,
Bad and smelly Brat.

Clever, kind, delightful,
Gorgeous, caring, not spiteful,
Confident, Smart, Pretty,
Beautiful, Talented and Witty.

Which words do you remember and carry with you each day?
Which words affect your judgements and what you do and say?

Time standing still

The clock stops, time stands still,

Dust settling in the memories of your mind,

The silence of your past sends you a chill,

The cobwebs you can't leave behind.

Jackie

It doesn't matter where you are emotionally in your life, there are certain things which can take you right back to situations. For me this is conflict or music!!  Its a surreal experience to be in the moment, but to be cast right back to a different time. Its as if the clock has been stopped and your life has been rewound.  Sometimes I just wish I could forget and not feel.  Feeling can hurt. 

At least now I acknowledge how I am feeling and not hide it or numb it with disordered eating or alcohol. 

World Mental Health Day

Today marks World Mental Health Day. 

Drowning in Depression

Sinking deeper, stronger,

Into a black hole of despair,

The days are long, nights longer,

I cry out but there's no one there.

My senses numb, no feeling,

You can see through my eyes,

My heart is on my knees screaming,

Would anyone care If I was to die?

Jackie

This poem is feelings surrounding depression and the despair felt.  I am pleased to say that I do not feel like this anymore. :)

The facts and figures around Mental Health in the UK are alarming.

• 1 in 4 people will experience some kind of mental health problem in the course of a year

• Mixed anxiety and depression is the most common mental disorder in Britain

• Women are more likely to have been treated for a mental health problem than men

• About 10% of children have a mental health problem at any one time

• Depression affects 1 in 5 older people

• Suicides rates show that British men are three times as likely to die by suicide than British women

• Self-harm statistics for the UK show one of the highest rates in Europe: 400 per 100,000 population

• Only 1 in 10 prisoners has no mental disorder

(stats from the Mental health foundation.)

Chances are then, that sometime in your life you will either have contact with a person, or yourself experience a mental health problem in some degree.  Mental illness sucks.  It cant be patched up, supported with a crutch, given a quick fix or operated on.  Its not visible and is often misunderstood or judged.  People are embarrassed to discuss it, they don't know what to say or how to help.

I first experienced mental illness in my late teens in the form of depression, though at the time I didn't recognise it. I know we all have those 'sad' moments, but this was bigger than that.

I spent most of my time in a dark cloud, feeling trapped and sucked deeper on a daily basis into a life of 'nothingness.' I had intense feelings of loss, isolation, anxiety and fear, some days I felt nothing and wanted nothing........

My anorexia has always gone side by side with depression although I'm not sure which comes first, bit of a chicken and egg situation!  Years ago there was a huge stigma surrounding mental illness, I was embarrassed to discuss it at work for fear of being labelled as 'mad'. The hospital where I was an inpatient was even worse, labelled as a 'mental,' hospital!!  I'm pleased to say things have changed although the process of referral for treatment for a mental illness is still disgraceful. 

As adults we know how we should look after ourselves. Eat a varied, balanced diet, drink sensibly, exercise regularly blah blah.... but how do we look after our mental health?

Talk about your feelings. Talking therapies or sharing your troubles with someone you trust is a positive way forward.

Relax or escape and do something you really enjoy.  Take a walk whilst listening to your ipod, have a bubble bath, write some poetry.  Do something for 'you' to get you away from the moment.

Accept yourself for who you are. We are all different and that's what makes us so damn interesting.

Focus on your positives, write some sticky notes naming all the great things about 'you.'

Ask for help.....

Don't be afraid to speak up. Asking for help is not a weakness, it only shows strength and determination.

Word Of The day. Day 4 Crazy

When I was a child there was a local Psychiatric hospital called St Lukes nearby, which was often referred to as the 'Looney Bin.' My parents would often comment if I was 'misbehaving,' you will drive us to St Lukes! That never happened, instead I developed an Eating Disorder and became an inpatient in a different 'looney bin,' many years later, for 'crazy' people.  I met a lot of 'crazy' people in my short time there. Elderly patients with dementia, young mothers with post natal depression, teenagers with bi-polar.  These weren't 'crazy' people they were people like me with an illness, people who needed support not to be judged or labelled.
For me now. I see crazy as a good word, the same as I see bonkers or mad. I used to dye my hair pink and red using crazy colours.  I can often wear crazy outfits.  I can be impulsive and do crazy things. I have crazy friends. I love crazy.

Driven Crazy or Crazy Driven

Are you driven crazy or crazy driven?
Are you driven by what people say OR are you crazy driven by an awesome day.

Are you driven crazy after a big fight OR crazy driven by a long night

If your driven crazy don't let anything get under your skin.
And if your crazy driven. It's your time to sin... 

Shauntae Taylor

Breaking The Silence....My Story

Tomorrow is the start of eating disorders awareness week.  A week in which local support services, national charities and ed organisations go public.They hit the media, TV, glossy mags and newspapers and tell people how it is, what eating disorders are really about.  They try and break down the stigma and isolation of what can be a silent and very lonely illness. Last year along with Family and Friends we arranged several fund raising events locally to raise money for a local support group and also raise awareness of eating disorders, this year I am going to be a little braver. There will be a lot of gaps in this piece, some because I have forgotten and others because you just don't need to know.  It has been hard to be honest without been too graphic and triggering so i hope I have managed to get the balance right.

My Story.......
As long as I can remember, even as a child I have never been heavy.  I was what you may class as naturally slim. As a teenager I even attempted to buy 'weight on,' tablets in an effort to gain a few pounds, so my preoccupation with food and weight loss later in life was a surprise to most.
I was born on march 17th 1967 in Middlesbrough in the North east of England.  My parents were North East born and bred, both came from typical working class backgrounds and had typical Northern values.
I arrived several weeks early with a weight of just over 3 pounds!! having to stay in hospital for many months until I had reached my healthy weight. This was not the only time in my life this was to happen!!!

Mum with my  eldest Sister, I'm the little one in her arms.

Fast forward now to several years later, I'm 11 years old and in secondary school.  The next 5 years were to be some of the worst days of my life.

I was a very nervous and quiet child which to some made me a pushover and an easy target for the bullies.

I was small for my age, skinny and lanky, national health glasses and an extremely unflattering uniform. What little self confidence and self esteem I had was soon to be bashed and taunted out of me. I couldn't escape when passing the school gates either, I was taunted by kids I didn't even know.  I didn't feel able to confide in anyone and although I loved my parents dearly parenting does not come with a manual and most of us learn from experience.....

I reached puberty late in life and whilst those around me were blossoming and trading in their vests for ladybird bras I was lagging behind and this didn't go unnoticed! 

Our school P.E department had those horrible communal showers and we had an evil teacher who would insist that we all showered together after games.  This was embarrassing enough but even more so when you had a chest as flat as an ironing board.  One day whilst showering a group of girls turned the water temperature up full making sure I had to run out.  They had of course hidden my towel and my clothes and left me standing there naked, in tears whilst they all pointed and laughed.  This was one of many incidents too many and hurtful to mention.





School Photo Aged 12

I didn't have a huge amount of friends at school, just a few who knew me in class but didn't know the real me.  It was many years before I would let anyone know that person.

I was generally a good kid.  Didn't smoke, didn't drink, helped with the jobs at home, had a paper-round, went to Girl Guides, Sunday School, church and did my Duke Of Edinburgh award but still there was something missing inside me.  I tried to find it within the church, I became a christian, read my bible daily, went to fellowship groups and tried to be 'good,'. I did make some good friends during this time, real friends but  uultimately when I started college a few years later this was just something else to add to my long list of things to tease me about.

At the age of 18, only a month after leaving college I moved 300 miles away on my own with a suitcase, a tape player and ten pounds in my purse.  I had managed to get a job in a little Somerset village with live in accommodation. My new life had begun, or so I thought.

The people I worked with were really friendly although most a lot older than me, the job was good but extremely unsociable. We all worked long hours then spent most evening together in the local pub.

Drinking alcohol was not something I was used to and very soon I had started on the hard stuff.  I was still very lonely, a long way from home and the only spirit I was receiving was in a bottle of Gin!!

At the age of 18 I had never had a boyfriend, not for the want of trying!!  One evening I had a friend over for dinner, a male friend who was several years older than me.  We drank some and without going into detail he pushed the friendship a little too far.!  I was made to feel it was my fault, it was a situation which made future attempts at relationships difficult. 

I made two very good friends in my first few years in Somerset, one which had a huge impact on my life and things which had happened.  I even bought a house with them and went on what was to be be the first of many foreign holidays.  We would sit and share stories of our lives, where we were brought up, things that had happened.  It was during one of these evenings that I had a realisation, a realisation that made me question certain aspects of my life.  With these questions came sadness, more alcohol and a gradual downward spiral in my life.

I would take the long coach trip home several times a year and it was on one of these trips that I had a comment from my gran.. Have you put on weight?  You're looking a little chubby.

It was on the same trip back that the sandwiches cut into little triangles that Mum had made went into the bin when I arrived back.

Now I'm not blaming dear old gran for my eating disorder, that throw away comment possibly triggered something brewing anyway.  I was already feeling pretty low, hated the way I looked, I saw myself as ugly and never dreamed that anyone could love me how I was.  My life was pretty shit and I was going to make it better..or so I thought.

The next period of my life is a bit of a whirlwind involving starvation, bulimia, alcohol, exercise and laxatives. I have no idea how long it went on for  but it ended with a diagnosis of Anorexia and a stay in a psychiatric hospital. I will never forget the day that my friends drove me to the beautiful village of Wells in Somerset, (where the film Hot Fuzz was filmed) I had agreed to go in as a voluntary patient to try and make me well again.  To be honest at that point I was so physically week I would have agreed to anything.

It was a stereotypical Victorian 'asylum' building, a huge, haunting but beautiful piece of architecture set in the most amazing grounds and gardens.  I was on an open ward in a side wing with patients who were less vulnerable.  I can remember being checked in, my bags being searched for any prohibited items then having a full physical examination.  At the point any dignity I had, had just left the building never to return again.

The hospital had very strict rules.   I was not allowed to exercise, could not do any occupational activities or see the therapist until my weight had reached an acceptable level!! I was to eat three meals a day plus snacks, which was ridiculous considering I didn't eat.  I was given a certain amount of trust until a fellow patient used to swop plates with me and leave me with an empty plate.  Good old George.  After getting caught I then had a Nurse chaperon and poor George got a ticking off.

Mendip hospital was a depressing place to be. I shared a room with 5 other women, some who would wail in the night and scream before they were due to go off for their electric shock treatment,  You couldn't bathe after 8pm as there was insufficient staff if you killed yourself in the bathroom and the washbasins were all communal.  Hideous. I would relieve the boredom by going to the pub for the evening with friends then finding the front door of the hospital locked on my return.  The night staff were not impressed when I had to ring the  bell to get back in.

The consistency of care was dreadful.  I would be weighed every other day, at different times in different times!!  I would even pop into town to the chemists to pick up 'supplies' without being found out. Generally though, I was a good girl, I did what I was told...eventually, and discharged myself before I got to my target weight and buggered off to Holland on a camping holiday.

I met my first Husband shortly after leaving hospital and we hit it off straight away.  The first few years were amazing.  We went to concerts, theatre, ballet, meals out the works. He was the first man I met who really loved me and honestly didn't care about all the superficial stuff. Despite people thinking we were an odd couple I thought we were a match made in heaven.  Things move pretty quickly, we got married, had an amazing wedding and at the age of 24 we had our first and only child.  6 years later we had separated.

I still feel sad that things didn't work out as I see it a a failure but we are both happy now.  I was a complete bitch for a lot of our married life and I think that's due to me not accepting myself and not liking myself.  I was very insecure.

It was a very hard split ultimately due to the fact that a child was involved.  This saw my eating disorder again rearing its ugly head, trying to give me some control and order in my life and numbing the painful feelings.  This was also the first time my new Partner and now Husband had any dealings with 'it.'  This time though I had become more devious and more secretive.  This was something I was bloody good at.  It was a lot of pressure on him as I had lost a lot of friends through my separation and also through a change in job.  I'm surprised he has stuck around for so long and is still with me now.

Its weird how each period of past disordered eating remains fuzzy to me now, chaotic and madness.

For most of you following my blog you already know how Ive got on over the past 18 months so I will fill you in on the bits Ive missed out.

I had a 10 year clear of ED.  I have probably had the same body image issues that most people out there have, my stomachs too big, my thighs are wobbly blah blah blah.I would have a few hiccups where I become obsessive over calorie counting, restricting food but would generally snap out of it.

This time, and probably the worst period of my illness crept up quickly.  I was referred to the gym due to problems with my hips and muscle strength.  At the same time I had booked a holiday and was worrying about a bikini body, along with this I was struggling with insecurities over a friendship...all combined a sure disaster and a full blown eating disorder.

For the next 10 months my life was a nightmare of depression, self loathing, panic, hatred, fear and anxiety.  My life involved around food.  I would lie, take to my bed pretending to be ill, say Id eaten, throw food out, binge, vomit, drink too much,overspend on cookery mags, trawl through pro anorexia websites.  My face would be puffy from crying and vomiting, I had toothache, sores on my knuckles, hair on my face, it hurt to lie down, I was constantly dizzy, couldn't sleep,freezing cold, joints hurt, stomach swollen, throat hurts, headache, dehydration, vitamin deficiency, passing out, osteoporosis.

All this I thought would make me happy, would make me feel good about myself, would make others like me.........it wasn't about being thin.  Yes, I would look at myself and want to be thinner, but it was the achievement, the sense of control over your life,the ability to numb the feelings and emotions and not accept what was happening, just one more pound, then another, then another.

The more I got deeper into it the harder it was to get out. I was taking medicattion for depression and was sinking further into a dark hole of despair and nothingness.  I had no care for myself oreven those around me.  I was selfish and self loathing an ampty shell of a person. I had reached  rock bottom and now it was either do or die.  I decided to DO. What helped alongside the support of family and friends  was my understanding of the illness, the way malnourishment affects your way of thinking, the knowledge given to me on how my body would change through recovery and what to expect.

Recovery was hard, please never underestimate what a person with an eating disorder has gone through in order to recover, not just those with anorexia but also those with bulimia, or other ed. I cannot express how much emotional pain and anguish I felt throughout, but need to stress how worth it the journey was.  And it is a journey, I doubt I have reached the end and maybe never will but in Eating Disorders Awareness week I want to tell others that you can do it, it is worth it, and you are worth it. Please do not be afraid to reach out and ask for help.