What was your life like before recovery? If it got you into a state of poor mental health, then it couldn’t have been healthy.
I always thought life was going fine. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t wonderful either. Not as wonderful as it should be when I have a supportive partner, a good job and a new house. I’ve never had anything that I would call ‘trauma‘ in my life, so I should have been just fine. Right?
Here’s the thing though; Life was stressful, and I just can’t handle stress.
I’m still going through the early stages of recovery, but since January my life has been changing consistently, and I’ve been growing stronger every day.
- I’m more aware of what drove me to relapse.
- I’m more aware of my triggers.
- I’m more aware of my issues with self-confidence.
- I’ve started meditation, yoga, and mudras, and manage at least 1 of these daily.
- I’m trying to be nicer to myself, and have learned the importance of self-care.
Before deciding on recovery I was in denial that there was even a problem. Yes, I wasn’t eating as much but it was fine, it was temporary and I could deal with it. Going off my food during stressful periods was normal for me, and it had never made me relapse before. Why would this time be any different?
Well, it was.
In October ’18 I decided to start restricting my diet to an undisclosed amount of calories each day, with intermittent fasting days in-between. It was conscious and I was doing it because I needed something, anything, to just take the edge off everything else in my life. I felt over-anxious and stressed all the time to the point where my stomach was severely affected, and I just didn’t know how to shut down.
So, I decided to do a manual reset.
Stupidly, I researched the benefits of intermittent fasting, and that helped for the first few weeks. I felt far better, more energetic and I wasn’t concentrating on everything else because I was so fixated on the hunger.
On the 17th of October, I decided to buy a scale. It would be my first in 5 years.
I weighed myself and almost cried at the number.
A light had switched on in my head. Weight became the main goal in my life. Not the sickness running through my family, not my job, and not what was going on in my own household. Nothing mattered except getting that number down. So that’s just what I did.
In the last few weeks before I was signed off work I can barely remember anything. It’s all a bit of a haze. Most day’s I don’t even remember driving to work.
Isolation and numbness took over my life, But I didn’t want to talk to or be near people. I just wanted to be alone with my eating disorder.
As long as that number on the scale kept going down I was fine; It was all fine.
I was dropping weight every day and then I hit the lowest I had ever been. There was nothing but skin and bones, and the word ‘inpatient‘ was being thrown around by my GP.
Then, and only then, did I officially sign myself off with the help of the HR manager and my own manager. The morning before I had just found out that my grandmother had terminal cancer and after the cancer diagnoses of my grandfather in March ’18, I was a mess. I was nothing but a ball of negative energy and completely hopelessness at this point. All the emotions I had been smothering came to the surface and after I was signed off all I did was cry for about 3 days.
Now I’m here. I’m with the eating disorder services, I’m working on recovery each day, I’m cooperating with my workplace to the best of my ability and I’m determined to kick this once and for all.
I’m more motivated to find out why I do this to myself and how I can stop it happening again.
As selfish as it sounds this is about me, the time I need and how I can learn more about myself, and how to keep ME healthy and happy.
