The In-Between Ground
The not so commonly discussed part of eating disorder recovery
I don’t want to write a story proclaiming ‘how I am now’ compared to the sick, undernourished girl forced into hospital and intravenously force-fed. That sentence alone gives enough of a background to display the stereotypical view of eating disorders that is all that is often seen through news stories and social media. Not to say this isn’t important – eating disorders can be life threatening and that fact cannot be emphasized enough for those with loves ones in imminent medical danger! The other end that is talked about is the after stories. How life has been reclaimed, and how worth it the struggle of recovery really is. But somewhere along the way, the middle stories are silenced. The journey’s that have are still going – that aren’t in the place of relapse or severity but also haven’t reached that wholly grail of ‘recovery’ (what is this anyway?) And let me say – this middle ground is probably the most interesting – as convoluted, painful, sometimes triumphant and very, very MESSY as it is.
When you first enter into the world of eating disorder treatment – whether you go my route (the road of ‘wholly crap what the hell is going on’ – not recommended), or come to the realization of needing to change (which needs to be acknowledged as an incredibly brave) it is inevitable that at some point the ‘stages of change’ shall come up on the agenda. In other words you go from the benign sounding pre-contemplation (i.e. nah guys I’m fine), to contemplation (i.e. I hear ya – but I’m good) to preparation (ughhhh nooo – do I have to?) to action (crap, crap, crap wth am I doing?) and then the magical maintenance phase (or in my ‘not quite there yet’ world – sitting juuusssttt recovered enough to not cause too much fuss). Nice and linear and structured – ED fairyland would love it!
But I don’t like it! In my experience, the first stage is just about right – denial, fighting and a bit more denial. But then - imagine one of those knotty cotton balls – the ones you have to unravel to do anything with. You can almost always find the ends – they sit there, tantalizingly ready to use… if only the rest of it wasn’t such a damn tangle.
The first part is hard – that’s the bit usually talked about. It’s different for everyone, but for me it was terrifying! I had been blackmailed into seeing a Dietitian for a few months before everything fell apart. She quite clearly knew something was wrong – I was defending every dietary choice I was making, and trying really hard to stick to her plan whilst also losing weight. So, I got told to see a psychologist – who told me to see an eating disorder specialist doctor. My first trip to Dr Barron’s office did not go so well – in fact, it ended up with an ambulance. Hospital, weight restoration, tears, and a belief that all was food bad and that all doctors were trying to make me fat followed. Luckily for me I have only had to go through this horrible ordeal once - trust me, one time being fed through a tube is enough.
The years since have been painful, but also beautiful. If life in the depths of an eating disorder is a blank slate – numbing and cold and calculated as all feeling is numbed by rules, regulations and how many grams/calories are in that cup of raspberries – then the in between of recovery is one giant storm. Calm winds, followed by lighting striking at random intervals, thunder, and sudden downpours of rain.
After deferring my Engineering degree due to hospital I really did not know where I was going. So, I enrolled within my current Psychology degree – and I am so glad I did. But beginning University again whilst in recovery, and still very much stuck in an extremely rigid and perfectionistic headspace can get interesting. Especially when life outside of recovery generally doesn’t just sit there nice and pretty waiting for you to get well. I went the entire year determined to ‘live life’ and ‘move on’, but cannot even count the number of Doctors visits that year. I learnt so much over this time though, about what the body ACTUALLY needs, that maybe this process of trial and error is something that was necessary. Proofs and expertise were presented at every step– my doctor picking up on worsening ECG’s (miraculous machine’s measuring the heart’s structure and function), blood pressure drops and rapid increases in heart rate (postural tachycardia) when I decided to listen to what ‘I’ (ED) wanted to do. My Dietician informing me that ‘more exercise’ = ‘more food’ – and what this should look like. Cognitive supports – techniques to counter the thoughts that come up every day, every meal!
I thought that I would be completely recovered by the end of 2017 – this recovery journey is meant to be done in about a year right? So, I booked to climb Africa’s highest mountain – Mt Kilimanjaro. Unfortunately, life stepped in between in the second half of that year. I had been struggling to move forward medically throughout 2017, and stress has always been my Achilles heel when it comes to getting stuck in recovery. Although living out of home, family difficulties were still very much getting to me and despite being frantically busy I was determined to ace the academic year. It was an environment that my ED loved – it encouraged rules, and striving towards being ‘perfect’ in the crazy world I found myself in. Too bad the body doesn’t really work this way – and the behaviors that go along with this led to being medically compromised again. Three emergency visits in three weeks convinced me I needed more help – so I agreed to do an intensive outpatient program over summer. I did not even know if I had got in when I had a call – I wouldn’t even have the chance for a place unless I did not climb Mt Kilimanjaro – it was just too dangerous (I had been ignoring my doctor telling me not to for a month at this point).
I was devastated! But I agreed to defer my climb for 6 months, and ended up getting into the program. It was one of the hardest, and most painful experiences of my life! I had to stop dancing– one of my greatest emotional outlets through the turmoil and something I love! This was terrible for me (and according to those who know – I was one cranky person)– especially whilst being challenged emotionally every day, but it is something I know that my body needed and I went back when I was medically stable with more passion and motivation to than before.
The program has been one of the best things I have ever done. Through it I learnt so much about myself, and different ways to think and be. I appreciated that societies ideals of body and appearance are complete crap too – does it really matter that you look perfect if you are miserable and hate where you are in life? Nope! Does that make recovery any easier? Nope! Eating disorders are just a little bit more complicated than copying magazine articles stupid advice, but appreciating the disconnect between appearance and health is pretty important. More than anything though, I met the most amazing group of people – and I thank every moment that they have chosen the share their stories with me, and be such a big part of mine.
Since then, I have climbed Mt Kilimanjaro – and it was incredible! I got to the top and burst into floods of tears – all of the fight, and struggle and fear of not being ‘well enough’ and I was on top of the world (well, Africa). It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life – and it was full of pain. I was overcome by the struggle that had gotten me up that mountain. And with that came one of the greatest rushes of pride and joy that I have felt. I still have trouble accepting feelings – most people do, and eating disorders are just one way that develops to cope. But this moment helped me to see what it may be I am fighting for. Maybe feelings are not something that has to be pushed away.
The trip didn’t come without a cost. When you spend your life eating to a clock and not trusting bodily cues, such a schedule change means that things can go off quite quickly. More than ever I needed my team’s support when I got back – despite wanting to push them away.
At the same time, I have so much education and knowledge; it is much harder to slip back to where I have been before. Not saying things aren’t still hard– but I find it a lot harder to convince myself that what I am doing is ‘fine’ when I have every piece of information possible to tell me that it’s not. The ED digs it’s claws in, but it’s no longer a safety blanket – it’s just some sort of leech that I can’t shake. The thing is, eating disorders just get sneakier the more you know and change. Yes, I now know a lot about nutrition! My eating disorder also knows exactly how I can use this to sit on the fence without getting too medically unstable. I still have to think ‘is this too much food’ and deal with that – but also can calculate exactly how much of what is needed to keep my body well enough, and my eating disorder happy enough to straddle the middle ground.
With this I’m still numbing. We all do it – try to get rid feelings of inadequacy, and pain, and worthlessness. But at the same time I can’t be pushed out of the comfort zone by being in intense treatment because there are places I just don’t fit anymore. Don’t get me wrong –support is still there, and is still needed! But the step to jump – to make the decision to fight past what keeps me ‘just well enough’ has to be one that is made myself – and if that’s not terrifying I don’t know what is. I know I’m not writing as a person who has fully taken that leap and can tell you ‘how worth it’ it is. I’m still kind of dipping toes into the water and figuring it out. But no matter where the journey takes me –it shall be real. Life is hard, and it can have thorns the size of swords that like to cut you open if you turn the wrong way. But it’s also incredibly beautiful and can be amazing, and breathtaking – and I have no intention of missing out on that.