My last few blogs have been uplifting I hope and tell a story of the improvement in my mental health as well as my physical health. I write this blog for lots of reason. One of them is that I have a record of how far I have come, not only since that terrible day in June but how far I have come in my 53 years. I have explained elsewhere that my physical health had a huge impact on my mental health and eventually I became old far before my time. When I was admitted into hospital in January I weighed in at 92 kgs and was already overweight. when I arrived at the hospital in June my weight was 102kgs. Lock down and my anxiety had taken its toll and I think my waistline got to about 44 inches or even bigger. Since losing all of that weight my health has improved massively. All of the junk food I was eating was poisoning my body. I know I dont eat enough at the moment and even though none of my clothes fit me anymore I still look at myself and think I am fat. I do 30 minutes of weight training at home. I go for a long walk everyday. I play football on Monday nights. I do 80 press ups and 30 sit ups a day and Ive just bought another curl bar so I can work on my chest. I am probably doing too much on too little carbs. I know I have a problem with body image and eating but its just another problem I will eventually sort out Im sure.
Underneath all of this healing that my mind and body is experiencing, there is still a lot of confusion and doubt. I know it sounds strange but when I was really ill I didnt have to try too hard. I didnt try to engage with anyone. I stopped going out and closed down. I didnt have to talk to anyone and in shutting people out I made it easy for them to let me become disconnected. I wanted that disconnection. As the string unravelled I relied more and more on the feeling of being ill, like it was an excuse for my terrible behaviour. As the disconnection continued the string started to unravel until it snapped.
Now I am getting better and have seen what my illness caused, I feel torn between the old me and the new me. Engaging with yourself and people and reigniting your passion for life takes a lot of work. By beginning my recovery journey, I have seen that it wasnt me that made all of those mistakes in the past but my illness and that realisation makes me desperately sad for what I have lost throughout my life. Coupled with this feeling of loss, I feel guilt in the way that my actions affected others. If I was a horrible person I could accept bad things happening to me but Im not! Bad things happen to good people sometimes I suppose but that doesnt make any of this any easier. So although I have come out the other side unbeaten, I am very much broken. Im happy with that because broken things can be fixed. A broken vase can be glued back together, the pattern might not line up perfectly and there will probably be tiny bits missing but essentially it is the same vase. There is a realisation that I will never be fully recovered from this terrible illness and it will always be with me. However, knowing that gives me power over it and I am no longer daunted by the road ahead. I am like the vase, still standing, full of water and a little bit cracked!
That is true, the illness as well as the eating disorder will always be with you. I have had anorexia when i was in my early 20's and had 2 relapses so far. It's like having had an addiction, once you give in just that once it will take hold of you again.. But as you say knowing that gives you back your power!