My mental health journey – how I ended up here…
One of the first things that my therapist encouraged me to do when I started recovering was to understand how I became ill. I remember going home after that session and writing down a list of everything that had happened in my life to date in chronological order. Seeing it all laid out in front of me really helped me to pinpoint some of the key moments in my life that had gotten me to where I was…
I remember, vividly, the negative thoughts I used to have about myself as a child. In primary school I began comparing myself to others, wondering why my thighs were chunkier and my shoulders broader than other girls my age. Then secondary school came along, giving me even more people to compare myself to. I was a very anxious child and developed insomnia in my first year of secondary school, likely influenced by my insecurity which made it difficult to make friends and ‘fit in’. I never felt safe or comfortable in my body. I saw it as a prison that was stopping me from living the life I thought would make me happy – being skinny and popular (which in my eyes were synonymous).
So, age 14, I decided to stop complaining and do something about it. We had learned about anorexia in PSRE class and I thought, “Well if not eating makes you lose weight, that’s what I need to do. But I don’t want to become anorexic so I’ll just cut down on the amount I’m eating at each meal.” This is where it started. I convinced myself that because I was still eating each day, and only restricting the types and amount of food I would eat, I couldn’t possibly develop this life-destroying illness. But that’s where I was wrong.
As I began to lose weight by eating less, I realised that if I started exercising as well I could speed up the weight loss process even more. I didn’t have a specific goal weight in mind, I just wanted to continue losing until I felt happy in my body (which I know now I would never have got to). I disguised my weight loss and restriction from my parents initially by eating my evening meal at home, and very little else throughout the day. I decided to start going to the gym after school and got myself a junior membership, meaning I was limited to the times that I was allowed in. But, as my ED grew stronger and I became obsessed with going everyday to burn as many calories as possible, the anorexia convinced me to sneak in on the days I wasn’t supposed to be there.
I remember one of my lowest points was on my 15th birthday. It was a Saturday and I set an alarm so that I could wake up early and go to the gym before my parents woke up. I pushed myself extra hard that day because I knew that my Mum had made me a cake and we were going out for dinner in the evening. I did not enjoy a single moment of that day because I was overwhelmed with dread and anxiety about the number of calories I would be consuming and how I was going to burn them off. The anorexia was so loud that I simply couldn’t think about anything else. I avoided interacting with my friends and family and was completely engrossed in my thoughts.
In April 2017, when my weight was at an all-time low and my life revolved solely around restriction and exercise, my Mum took me to get help. At this stage of my illness I didn’t believe that I had a problem, I thought that what I was doing was normal and I was happy to carry on doing it. I realise now how lucky I was that my Mum caught on so quickly and took me, against my will, to the GP who referred me to CAMHS to get the help I needed.
Upon attending my first session, I was put on a meal plan and taken out of school until I entered a healthy BMI range. It’s safe to say that I was heartbroken. The anorexia was telling me what a good job I had done to lose all this weight and that stopping exercising and eating regularly was going to undo all my hard work. Meanwhile, my therapist, doctor and parents were telling me that I would become hospitalised if I carried on as I was. I resented them because they took away the one method I had to reduce my lack of self-esteem and anxiety in an instant.
One of the most challenging things about having an eating disorder, is that disordered habits are normalized and advertised in society. The whole concept of dieting is based upon restriction, and I simply couldn’t understand why what I was doing was any different – I just had the will power and determination to get the results.
Everyone thinks that recovering from an ED is as simple as gaining weight, which is easy right? But no, eating disorders are mental illnesses, therefore, the mental work we have to put in to overcome them is the hardest battle. This becomes especially difficult when you are weight restored as it doesn’t appear, to yourself or others, that you are still unwell. I was stuck in this stage of recovery for 2 years before I came to the realisation that I needed to do some serious mental digging to fully unpack and shut down the anorexia that lived inside me. It is for this reason that only one third of people with an eating disorder will fully recover, because once you have these disordered beliefs it is extremely difficult to change them.
I have continued with therapy on and off for the past 4 years. Getting support as an adult with an eating disorder is definitely harder to come by and sadly is taken less seriously. When I turned 18 I was no longer entitled to treatment from CAMHS and was taken off their records, despite still having a way to go in my recovery. In all honesty I thought I was better, but in hindsight I was still in a bad place. This is when it became paramount that I had to do it for myself; no one was going to come along and save me.
Once I realised that I still held disordered beliefs and was subconsciously restricting in some way, I put every ounce of my energy into my recovery. I left uni and moved back home to give me the time, space and security I needed; and I’m so grateful that I did.
It was August of 2021 when I realised I had done it. I no longer worried what I was going to eat or questioned my hunger signals – I ate whenever and whatever my body told me to because I trusted it. The relationship I have with my body now is very special. I remind myself everyday how lucky I am to have a body that is healthy and can carry me wherever I want to go, do the things I love and be connected to others.
Every so often anorexia will come knocking, trying her best to sneak her way back in when I’m feeling low/out of control. However, the difference is that I don’t believe her. Now, when she tells me that skipping dinner and going for a long walk will make me feel better, I literally tell her to f*ck off! In fact, I do the exact opposite. I eat dinner and dessert and sit on the sofa with my Mum and Lola and just let the feeling pass. Yes, it’s uncomfortable, and yes, part of me is tempted to give in; but I remind myself that I did not put in all this hard work for it to be taken away from me on one bad day!
So now, every time she knocks, she knocks a little quieter. She shows up less often and I hope, maybe one day, she will give up altogether. Because my life without her is so much more than I ever imagined and I won’t let her take that away from me – not again.
Georga x
