The XL Twix and why it holds a place in my heart (or nightmares)

“Time is a precious thing. Never waste it” Charlie and the chocolate factory

When one is struggling with an eating disorder, such as anorexia, there may be structural rigidities and rules that infringe upon one’s life. Meal times, quantities, measurements, type of food or brands may all become elements of the aforementioned rules. Trust me, any way in which an eating disorder can dictate your life, it will take advantage of with both hands. There is likely to be little (if any) rational reasoning behind rules and routines one must feel they should follow. I am often left confused and frustrated in myself with the lack of explanation I can give as to why I behave certain ways. An eating disorder is not about food. An eating disorder is a sufferers way of desperately seeking control and achievement which may be deemed achievable through following unrelenting, often perfectionism driven, rules. The consequence of these rules being challenged can feel immensely terrifying, threatening and at the time impossible to challenge. Though I can reflect on moments my behaviour was driven by these rules with humour and recognise their triviality, moments such as those I’m about to recount were moments when rigid eating disorder rules were challenged head on, with some eruptive consequences… It is easy to reflect and think how ridiculously you behaved at the time, and how you let such insignificant factors impact your life. I find myself beating myself up in the way I can’t behave “normally” (whatever that is). There is more to life than weights and numbers, however, an eating disorder can restrict your whole entity to being focused on these elements with the false promise of control, satisfaction and achievement. There is so, so much more to life than worrying about twixes, crisps or yoghurts but at those moments it can feel like life or death.

I would say picture this, but I hope you do not have the experience to do so. It is around 3:30 on the ward, if not slightly later as the amazing staff try to collect the bunch of patients which have dispersed the minute it gets near a “dining room” time. On inpatient units there is often a rotation of snacks, and today some faced a Twix. My brother would definitely say this is a solid choice, probably helping himself quite easily to more than one. Unfortunately, I do not possess his enthusiasm in quite the same way in regards to chocolate. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever look at a Twix the same way again.

Kindly, someone packing that at Brakes day when sending the food order to the Priory had substituted our order for the “double the fun” XL Twix. Still don’t know if this means extra long or large, but either way it was different and to many on the ward, unacceptable.  The first patient opened the twix, we all dubiously sat analysing the packet. Though this is far from the truth, the packaging combined with the fear an eating disorder can cause around certain foods made it feel that that packet was like Mary Poppins magic bag. A tardis that kept producing twixes. Bunting that just keeps on coming out a magicians bag. That Twix just kept. On. going. Outrage erupted in the dining room, many jumping on the fear of this slightly larger Twix and the unjust nature of this unexpected challenge. Swearwords were muttered, perhaps a twix was thrown and desperate pleas were said. How were we expected to face this monster of a chocolate bar and cope with the other challenges of the inpatient day? We were told, as normal for many households, those twixes would keep on coming until the box was finished. From then on the tactics an ED mindset can furtively compile started showing. People started opting for snack out over Thursday morning snack, which once was an event people were urged “strongly” to go to and shuffled onto the mini bus with great reluctance. Now the bus seemed fuller than it had ever been! Why? Potentially the Twixes being a Thursday rotation. People were suddenly singing the praises of the Twix when agency staff were choosing snacks from our cupboard, and I can’t say what others were thinking, but my irrational mind wanted that box empty… I won’t bang on about the many suspicious events which started following the arrival of the devil Twixes, however, there is one final tale to tell. On the discharge of what my nana likes to call my “fellow inmates” we often stand round and cheer them off. Sometimes, the odd person may try to run off with the sight of an open door, but that’s a story for another day. A patient infamously renowned for her hatred of the twix was leaving, and kindly lent in for a hug and some words of wisdom. Her words of comfort were “you’ve got this, I’ve hidden the twix box”, which is quite an amazing feat given all the cupboards are locked alongside every door in the vicinity.

Though I laugh about times spent inpatient, as they are often so absurd and comical when reflected on with rationality, I’m so incredibly grateful for all the help I received in my admissions. Sadly, I was re admitted after the “XL twix” admission, unsurprisingly given how much thought I put on these bars, following a general admission. I returned to the same ward, which has the most amazing caring staff. Given I could barely hold conversation, it shows the strength of an eating disorder that I could remember these bars living deep in the cupboard. Thankfully, there was no substituted chocolate bars in sight this time. I wonder if even the staff couldn’t face XL packaged bars (which I’m sure now are no different, just marketed to make you feel you are winning). However, I bring you now to the “grab bag” gate of my next admission.

Mini cheddars. A solid crisp, even if a bit pongy and reminiscent of a kids party food. The expectation was a standard size bag, but did Brakes treat us again very kindly? Yes. Grab bags it was, and this extra 20 or 10 grams (I don’t even know) had us vexed. Questions flooded in when in  dietetic forum. Why are we suddenly having more mini cheddars? What will happen if we eat these mini cheddars? Can we have different crisps? Who invented the grab bag and thought it was a good idea?! Where do they live? I will always admire a dieticians strength in an eating disorder ward, mainly knowing of my own outrageous behaviour and statements, but also knowing the sheer amount of questions given in groups like a dietetic forum and how they hold it together.

There really is no conclusion to ease these fears we had other than to face them and continuously challenge items. The stories show the rigidity and strict rules one can impose on themselves when suffering, and these rules aren’t limited to certain items. These aren’t fun things to do, not done as a fad diet attempt or a joke. These are unwavering beliefs which feel so real at the time that challenging them feels the worst thing to do. The fear of weight gain, calories, certain foods or nutrients can all be reasons why one may feel fear, but eating disorders are driven by so many elements people may not be aware of. The fear of fitting in, growing up, being abandoned, being seen, being undeserving. Hidden insecurities eased through control and rules. This can be why they are so hard to tackle, and places such as inpatient units with their XL twixes and Grab Bags exist. I can see the irrationality behind my reasoning and the rules my head formulates, but the threat of loss of control sometimes feels so paralysingly terrifying it is hard to act in a way beneficial to ones wellbeing.

There is so much more to life than worrying about food. Readers with no experience of EDs may deem these tales absurd due to the insignificance of the change. But an eating disorder reduced my life to worrying about items similar to the aforementioned obsessively. To the point where you can’t sleep, can’t think, can’t hold conversation or read. The only way to overcome the fear is, frustratingly, facing it. There are no magical dusts or powders out there to cure someone, otherwise I would’ve rolled in that like my dog does fox sh**. Pick up the XL bar or different size ice cream. Recognise your fear, but realise the elements that can be proved wrong within your reasoning.

Sorry to any Twix lovers for bashing them, please know I’m not the best food guru for advice. Though I won’t ever be picking one up without a shiver down my spine, I still think there are other good options like a good old Kit Kat or Beuno.