Under Construction

Photo credits: Lucy Oldfield

I watched them take photographs of the gutted factory

Pocketing the past, hoping for history

The students laughed as the cameras closed

Like the eye of Time on a length of rope

For the smoke and flash

Were distant embers

They spoke in subdued whispers, one smoked

The other two pretended

-          This was growing up.

With a cigarette bent between two fingers

He felt like a God, it was how one attempted

To trace the steps

               In the crumbling Wall

And his fingers pressed to the seams in the brickwork

Which told of man’s engineering,

Now the art of the fall.

I want to climb out of machinery in my mind

Eating disorder recovery isn’t a smooth curve. Just like the body types it evades and manipulates, the course isn’t set.  For so long I have been occupied by it, fulfilling its objectives  - structuring the time of eating, food eaten, amount of work done, all to suit its objectives. I have lived in its machine for so long -it’s made me feel ‘useful’ and ‘efficient’, part of a process. This way I felt like I was making progress, even when other things were going wrong – school work pressures, change of house, university.

But if an eating disorder is like a machine... I’ve taken the first step and thrown my hand between the turning cogs – slowing them down, stopping them. I don’t want to be part, I want to be whole. And this starts with a whole truth:

I am terrified of time.

The eating disorder took time away from me – took it away like a kind of comfort. Because when it comes to considering the endless, indescribable nature of time for myself – I feel overwhelmed. I feel unworthy.

The past few days have been difficult; as I climb out of the machinery of routine so to speak, it means I no longer know what objective I am looking for. How do I know if I’m doing well? Have I made enough progress?

Routine had regulated the present  and now questions throw themselves at me.  I feel angry at myself for not being able to recover the first time round, upset at my fall from university, confused as to why I don’t feel better?

Before I used to ignore questions, even my own questions, with compulsion. But now I am determined to evade the emptiness and confront the issue. This means no longer living in the old industry of the past, the machine of the eating disorder outdated and unsuitable. It had become the mechanism of my meals, my movement and ultimately a defence mechanism.

Perhaps now it is about letting down my guard and participating in the present. And that can be a positive step – for everyone.

Chewing over the past can be bitter… taste the present, feed the future

We often seem capable of moving our mouths faster over the past rather than anything else. Telling tales of all kinds; both positive and negative, is part of what makes us human. Our capacity to connect by sharing our experience and allowing another person the opportunity to put their own perspective on it is an incredible thing.

 Yet it matters to be aware of the difference between recalling the past and being caught in replay. This replay is when the capacity for other people to connect, room for other people to relate, begins to close as we become preoccupied, pour over it in our minds. For me, I can all-to-often go from talking about my food problems in the past tense, before proceeding to imitate them in the present.

For example I have recently been more open in discussing how my fixation on being ‘efficient’  led to my extreme control of food, even avoiding social situations where I may have to eat something other than I ‘planned. ‘(After all, I thought, we live in a society which celebrates ‘plans’ and ‘organisation’) yet  still I struggle in the present; as when in Manchester the thought of eating food outside what I had selected was almost overwhelming. It was instinctive to go from not just talking about the past, but turning back to it.

Realising choice is voice

Yet ‘turning back’, even just by definition, sounds negative – and this is not the direction we deserve. The past can be powerful, and we even do ‘look to’ comforts of years gone-by such as childhood memories. But notice the difference here in terms of language such as ‘look to’ when  compared with ‘turning back’. Too many people turn to and chew over the past without gaining any insight or ‘nourishment’ so to speak, from it. People bring up stories of bitterness, even when there is so much opportunity to taste something different in the present – and in turn feed the future. This was something I came to appreciate more today; that although talking about the past can be important, realising when turning or back ON it matters too.

It’s time to turn my back on it, rather than to it

If we want to put some problems in the past, we’ve got to position ourselves in the present. I can’t just talk about what happened to me and the development of a disordered relationship with food, I have the take the choice to change.

 All of us can, and do, have the capacity to do so. I’ve given enough of myself to past routines and habits, I think of all the time which will simply be seen as the ‘past’ rather than positive or enjoyable; and it’s this sense of loss which often leaves bitterness.

But bitterness can be balanced – like some people choose to add milk to coffee and today I chose to eat a balanced breakfast rather than the bland oats and water I would often eat before. It can be a balance of perspectives too; you may have experienced negatives in the past but they will make a noticeable difference to helping you appreciate more the positives of the present.

Running on empty? Why not sit with simplicity

I have been running from my problems for far too long – both physically and mentally.  Many of us do.

I insisted this was ‘productive’, especially in the form of my relationship with exercise. After all, we are exposed to a (what can be unhealthy) media which of course expects ‘activity’ of all kinds (you only need to see social media where we are bombarded with ‘recent activity’, where ‘feeds’ often replace any kind of meaningful content). In short, it is easier to feed into these concepts of expectations and efficiency (rather than properly feeding the body) than you may first think. It becomes a complex and elaborate relationship which has left me feeling empty.

Being ‘driven’ shouldn’t be destructive

I started seriously exercising in an attempt to achieve a ‘balance’ on entering high school – bombarded with a surge of information, intense feelings, bullying. They called me ‘boygirl’, would mock the size of my teeth, my hair –  and I craved to do anything to detract, to distract from those features. Exercise and weight loss quickly became mechanisms of achieving a complex kind of ‘balance’, I remember thinking – even if I have big features, I can streamline myself elsewhere. A want to be compact, trimmed down, not an issue; all these are concepts which have intermittently obsessed me since.

I believe that the modern media spins a similarly unhelpful ideal – where we should be ‘streamlined’ and ‘successful’, often promoted by the active quality of being ‘driven’. It is fine to be ‘driven’ but only when there is direction behind it. Over the last few months I have been using running as a mechanism to achieve what I told myself was ‘balance’ , placing myself in some kind of ‘order’  - but I had clearly lost my way. I was running for six miles a day on very little food, trying to desperately satisfy my own complex of body image and society’s efficiency.

But we should be satisfying ourselves, not ‘complexes’ or ‘balances’ – that is what I am coming to realise. It reminded me of a simple pleasure as I looked out onto the snow this morning – the thought of sledging, feeling fun tingle from your fingers to your toes. We can feel fun even just in most simple sensations. Yet now I would get far too cold if I was go out in the snow, my hands are blue and blotchy, even indoors.

Simple pleasures

But right now, I sit, and look out onto the snow – how it has ‘settled’ and yet the same time has caused such dramatic change. A layer of snow has stopped routine, it has caused schools to close, some people to smile, others get agitated. It’s a simple feature of frozen water yet inspires a massive range of emotions. And this is what I am starting to appreciate more with other aspects of life – they may seem simple, but can inspire and create so much.

 Consider even just having your favourite hot drink, even a glass of water. Just concentrating on the temperature shared with you, the quenching of thirst, the need for nothing else for that moment – all these are little things to think about. It’s a simple enjoyment you can unlock every day, and one that brings me great comfort. The simple sensations of touch and taste themselves. And we can unlock so many, when we realise the power of the simple rather than submitting to the systematic. 

Recommendations of diet and exercise, ways to keep ‘driven’, are all okay – but as I said, when they have direction behind them, your best direction.

And whatever that direction, there’s still time for reflection; even if it’s just having a cup of tea on a cold day. It’s the simple things.

What an eating disorder makes me feel

·         I need to exercise to be efficient

·         Drained – there’s been a weight on my chest all day and I feel low in mood; but I’m still determined!

What today is real

·         Looking after my health is what is efficient – I stayed at home, carried on eating and did not go running 

Reading the warning signs... and recognising hope

I feel fear.

But that’s the start. And one I can make constructive.

The doctor’s appointment yesterday was an acknowledgement that I am ill – and admitting it to myself has been hard. She drew attention to my critically low BMI, falling blood pressure, sluggish pulse. I have heart palpitations and my hair falls out.

Yet I have closed awareness to my own body for so long, slamming instinct shut and instead focusing an appearance like the spine of a book; a streamlined, clean column of output. Yet rather than producing all the time – it’s time to consume, to read, to recognise – something we all can take steps to do. This seems appropriate given its #Worldbookday and reading is something I love. It’s the opportunity to get into another world, another character, feel around and unlock new experiences. I like to think that is what I am doing with my body now: gradually taking the time to climb back into its crevices, re-involving myself in the narrative of what I need (not what the eating disorder ‘needs’) and giving a story of recovery.

Reading the warning signs is one step – and feeling scared is another step too, another page turned.

I fear falling and not being able to get back up.

Feeling fear is not a fault in itself; it is essentially human. Yet so often in modern society we are encouraged to avoid feeling fear, a fundamental instinct; instead it is acceptable to ‘feed into’ the distraction of media, money, modernity. All these concepts we can receive a kind of confirmation from. But it’s ultimately short-term; just as we ‘shy away’ often from what really matters through things like ‘social’ media – and this is a statement which appears ironic in itself.

Feeling fear is showing that I am aware of myself, not just the eating disorder.  Fear is a feeling after all, and one it helps to be honest about. And because it is a feeling – it is ultimately temporary – it does not define your future or pin-down your present. Because when you cut away the distraction, the routine, you feel things like fear – but also a whole host of marvellous emotions too. I felt happy eating a bowl of cereal with milk yesterday. I haven’t properly eaten cereal with milk for at least a year.

Feeling fear is part of your instinctive want to stay alive – and I do. It’s what we ‘do’ with it that matters, rather than disappearing behind impressions.

Yet this is an age it seems like we can ‘disappear’ in an influx of information, where we scroll instead of read, and spread ourselves across media with a kind of paper-thinness. It seems a little like an analogy for what my eating habits had become.

But I’m determined to get involved in reality, get my grip into the big book of life – which we all can do.  I no longer want to ‘scan’ and ‘scroll’ through my days, only feeling impressions of things, at the instruction of an elaborate routines of exercise and controlled eating. This now means being direct with myself, with others, being honest in the here-and-now. Eating when I am hungry. Accepting when I am tired.

Information can be opportunity.

Time can be taken.

Reality can be read. 

           

It is not as a result of the doctor’s appointment, but my own determination to feel back in touch with things and the inspiration from you all, which drives me. I have after all recently felt the love from some incredible people, experienced the emotion of others reaching out too.  Thank you.

In 5 weeks I wouldn’t be here..... without you

The GP I saw was kind and considerate, but only able to do what she could to move into the next stage of medical treatment for the disorder – a referral for a consultation with the eating disorders clinic.

In 5 weeks time.

My appointment is on the 8^th April. In all honestly, if I was still engaging in the same regimented routines as the previous weeks, I don’t think I would be conscious  by then; minimum 6 miles of exertion per day, carefully controlled food, snatches of sleep. It makes me so concerned, angry, for all the other sufferers out there, that they have to wait more than a month even just for a consultation appointment. It is not acceptable.

But the disorder isn’t going to determine up until the 8^th April. It is the brilliant support I have received from friends, family, even people I do it know directly – which has helped me read back into reality and re-engage with what matters.  You can do this too.

Between now and the time of the 8^th April isn’t going to be a time of waiting.

It is going to be a time of making progress, GAINING GROUND.

The sensations aren’t easy, the sudden jolt, the anxiety – it feels intense. But it is just a feeling, like fear is only a feeling. I am reading into reality, trying readdress my ‘feeling’ of what a healthy amount of food and exercise is, and I’m glad its world book day.  Tonight I will be re-reading one of my favourite books in recent years, ‘The Humans’, by Matt Haig. It’s a brilliant exploration of alienation and self-identity, through the story of an alien re-born in the body of a professor. Can I tempt you?

What an eating disorder makes me feel

·         6 miles/worth of exercise a day is efficient

What, today, is real

·         I made the decision not to run to work for the first time in more than 6 months – I need to keep my energy for gaining weight

·         A better breakfast – rather than oats and water, breakfast today was made with milk, apple, peanut butter and cinnamon too! THIS is balance, not the precarious position I have been putting myself in

Do you know how much power you have?

One of the most motivating powers in life is this – the power we all have to inspire and connect with others. Even just by reading this, you are part of an inspiring process; working towards overcoming the darkness of eating disorders. Your awareness is a show of strength; it means so much more than any number, figure, weight or measurement.

Take one of your hands and hold it in the other.  Here you bring together the tools capable of so much; unlocking opportunity and powering progress. Think of all they have experienced, how they form part of the memories they will go on to share with others. Your skin may be warm, cold, tense, dry – but either way it is alive. Feel the power of not just potential, but your life. Living and inspiring are two things we all capable of. And I want to do this too – without an eating disorder telling me it is otherwise.

Thank you

Thank you for the amazing response to my decision to blog about my eating disorder recovery. I am touched by your support – whether you send a message or even just take the time to read, it is a form of engagement and adding to the inspiration.

I felt like an empty hand reaching out into a darkness. Yet what you have helped me to realise is that recovery is in my grasp.

The Doctors

Do you know how weak you are?

That is the kind of outcome I am expecting on going to the doctors. They will draw attention to the low BMI, the hair loss, the bleeding gums and jutting bones. I have sores on my back from the pressure and now sit for hours struggling to string sentences together on my laptop, when it would have taken me minutes before. This is physical weakness – and I want the doctor to tell me that it can’t go on.

The physical weakness cannot go on, but now the strength starts.

Do you know how much power you have? YES

Today is the day of my first doctor’s appointment since being honest about my eating disorder.  Honesty is an important factor here; as over the years the eating disorder has turned me into a marvellous liar – including lying to myself. I have told people I am readily ‘fine’, that I have eaten elsewhere, am busy; anything to avoid situations out of my usual routine with food. I have told myself that this the way to be streamlined, clean, efficient. Sounds quite clinical don’t you think? Cold.

I know that I need to move away from this clinical, hard-cut attitude towards myself; it is indeed cold. Yet I have also had some ‘cold’ encounters with medical professionals in the past – particularly GPs – some who have seemed disinterested, even frustrated. Even amongst medical circles there can seem a crucial lack of compassion when it comes to eating disorders – the highly false stereotypes that they are a ‘situation’ or ‘phase’, something selected.  

I certainly would not select a life like this; a life forced to a precarious balance between consumption on output. I can only eat so much of foods I deem ‘efficient’, I drive myself to write, to work, more and more.  The eating disorder seeks to ‘streamline’ me into ‘success’ accompanied by elaborate routines of exercise.  For so long I have been living ‘a life’ the eating disorder has driven. Not MY life.

I wonder if the doctor will see beyond the ‘success’ and realise the growing sense of panic, anger, fear.

“You’re not thin enough”

That’s a phrase I fear. It’s the phrase many people fear when going to seek professional help. It seems like the conformation that you have not even ‘achieved’ being ill enough.

But I am determined to approach my appointment with an open mind – just as I am going to address my skewed perception of ‘success’ and ‘achievement’.  I don’t know whether going to the doctors will be either of these things; but I what I know deep down is this - that it is progress.

If anything, going back to the doctor is progress because it a step in putting me in touch with reality, rather than the routine of disorder.  Eating disorders drive denial and self-isolation and I am fighting back. I’m putting one of my hands in the other and feeling the life pass through it.

Feel the heat move slowly between your hands... human touch matters; and in more ways than one. Physical or digital, public or private, we all have the power to reach out.

And I’m reaching out.

It is time to answer back to eating disorders.

My name is Emily and I am a writer, poet and proud Northerner. I also have an eating disorder.  This isn’t an admission; an eating disorder is not like an error to ‘admit’ to. It is an illness – and in this blog I want to provide an honest, frank account of not only my attempts to heal, but also to help others and address the stigma.

I am being honest.

 ‘Getting better’ is a phrase I dislike – as it implies that there was something lacking in the first place. It’s not about attempting ‘improvement’ – recovery is the return to relishing life.  Therefore I want to focus on GAINING GROUND: re-engaging with life again – through thought, food and feeling. These are the steps to a return to enjoyment – rather than exercising out of compulsion or eating just to survive. We all deserve to thrive.

 I am being honest.

It’s not going to be easy – and I want this blog to show the bumps and lumps along the way. Eating more and dealing with the anxiety will be hard, the physical effects of gaining weight, the aching mind.

I am being honest and I want to live.

My experience of an eating disorder has made me into a marvellous actor.  I have co-ordinated my time spent with people, around food, to fits and starts like filming in a set. I have worn the waxy mask of reassurance. I have watched my clothes drop off me as if getting into a ‘role’.  I have continued writing articles, essays; but more and more they have become like ‘images’ of health – a presentation of ‘success’ to people. My thoughts have studied a script – which it has created.

It has taken me a long time to realise the reality of myself. Now I am seriously underweight, I ache. My hair falls out and the cold comes close to a pain. The eating disorder serves up the excuse that this is ‘control’; but it isn’t. Sometimes feel scared because I don’t know what is going to happen to my body, when it will drop. There's a weight sitting on my chest. 

I don’t want to lie to life any more

For years I have fixated on food as a form of control – starting with what I ate, then exercise, even concepts such as time and place. Losing weight, watching my body ‘change’ according to my actions, became a kind of confirmation that I could ‘achieve’ in a world of uncertainty. Yet rather than ‘achieved’ I have grown isolated; eating disorders often drive routine – pushing the sufferer into a kind of silence. But it has kept me quiet for too long.

The truth: Let's get out of one word definitions! 

People who face eating disorders are far from ‘fine’; although that is the response typically served up by the illness. They are so much more than that, and facing the problem is so much more than about food.

Through GAINING GROUND I want show that so much more than just weight can be gained when recovering from an eating disorder – it unravels whole new areas of feeling, thought and life. It’s about both body and mind. It should not be a focus on quantity and co-ordination; what matters is that you feel connected to the world and the capacity to enjoy it. And you can, we all can!

I spent so long trying to fit

An eating disorder is a deep disturbance between body and identity, between attitudes and action. It has been the articulation of my insecurities for too long, so to speak – altering my body image rather than accepting it. Because we seem to live in a society where ‘making something of ourselves’ is the prized ideal. Yet think of the term ‘making something of ourselves’ – it suggests that we are like clay to mould into the shape of ‘something’. So often this takes the form of fads and trends such as ‘healthy’ ‘fit’ ‘beautiful’ – when these are all subjective.  There is ultimately no set mould you have to fall into, or form you need to take; a point it has taken me a long time to acknowledge.

Addressing definition and dealing with denial

For me, attempting to ‘fit’ my body and mind into ideals of ‘success’ became my objective – and I said it was ‘fine’ too. ‘Fine’ is so-often an invention used to cast our real feelings aside – creating a situation which is far from healthy. As part of my recovery I want to focus on what really matters, so rather than ‘fitting’, focusing on ‘feeling’ – because our feelings are our own. You have your unique capacity for motion, and this can be enjoyed - something I aim to explore with GAINING GROUND.

There are also some brilliant resources out there; including charities and institutions. Rethink Mental illness, Beat, Time To Change and Mind are just some of the sources of inspiration - full of supportive individuals  who have helped  me to feel the determination to drive forwards, so much. 

Leaves

I have been casting leaves

For as long as I can remember

The latter stages of the year

 Appear in ‘embers’

The new – a smile

And thought then 

Why

Am I flickering

When this could be fire.