Twelve months of revelations in supermarket aisles, part two
Embarking on the second part of my ‘twelve months of freedom’ series, in which I will reflect on my learnings from being a year EDU hospital free, I face the learnings from supermarket aisles. Who knew a trip to Poundland could teach you so much or Sainsbury’s could be so full of promise. In usual form this is a whole load of waffle, so take from it what you will. Given that the topic relates to eating disorders, if you are at risk of being triggered by talk of struggles, maybe consider what material will help you and if you want to read on. I will never mention exact numbers or behaviours, however, am aware different things can be triggering sometimes and do want to also approach the realities of living with this illness to help spread awareness. Though I try to keep content fairly light, with my family often taking a ‘if you don’t laugh you’ll cry’ approach, I am not trying to undermine the struggle an eating disorder brings to sufferers. They are life-threatening, destroying illnesses for sufferers and all those supporting them in their battle. The illness has serious implications, which I do touch on, and some may be explored in my ‘twelve months of freedom’ series. This is amidst some of the more comedic realisations, such as the fact I can suddenly shave my armpits and open the door. Aside from the excitement of Nectar cards, club card deals and the middle aisle, what have I met amidst the aisles of supermarkets? Some highs and exciting freedom, yet also some very, very low moments.
Navigating the sudden newfound freedom of choice
In hospital, pretty much every choice is made for you. The day is structured in regimented eating, resting and group time. The time when you can go out for fresh air or even just have a drink is decided. Unsurprisingly the meals are, you guessed it, decided. Each time I’m discharged I have been overwhelmed by suddenly having what feels like SO much freedom and choice. I realise when freed once again that there are more options than Belvita Breakfast bakes or Nairns biscuits. There’s a whole AISLE of cereal bars. Though at first it could be seen as freeing to have so much choice available the minute you leave the hospital environment, it can be very daunting and a time for one’s eating disorder to take control. A lot of the time in different areas of life I fear making the wrong decision and the impact this could have. These worries are, irrationally, projected onto food as it is something I can control. Therefore, when given choice, I find myself overwhelmed. My eating disorder limits this bombardment of thoughts by setting rules based on what I’m allowed, a clear ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. I worry about upsetting others through my decisions, causing problems or getting something completely wrong. Whilst I struggle with other decisions, I can feel security in the eating disorder as I can temporarily meet the goals it sets. However, this is a very false security, as ultimately the decisions it deems ‘right’ and ‘controlled’ have only ever led me to hospital. Additionally, painfully, the eating disorder will never stop. Whilst you may meet one rule, another will soon be made that is harder to meet as you push yourself to be ‘perfect’. These rules can on the surface seem ridiculous. At times, when in a rational mindset, I myself look at them and question my sanity greatly! It is important though to remember there is SO much more to an eating disorder than the struggle with food. By micromanaging intake and numbers such as calories, nutritional information, exercise sets and so on, one can feel a relief or respite from other worries that can feel immensely scary.
I am SO fortunate to be able to have choice in different aspects of my life, however, also identify that for me a simple choice can be very much overthought and cause disordered behaviour to increase. I’ve learnt that on the spot or under stress I struggle to decide on things and worry about the small implications my decision could have. As a result, especially on being discharged from hospital or stepping down from more intense care, I realised there are a few ways in which you can help yourself. Firstly, as the quote goes, ‘fail to prepare, prepare to fail’ (though this does seem a bit intense, you may not fail and failing can also teach lessons!). Preparation, in my experience, is helpful. This could be making a meal plan for the week ahead to eliminate making choices on the spot or roughly time planning your week. Some people may find having choice taken out of their hands temporarily could be helpful, and, if in the position to do so, asking someone else to decide on something for you may reduce choice paralysis. Though it is important to take responsibility in your own recovery, if you are feeling incapable of making a healthy decision, using those around you for support is not a failure. Opposed to wasting my hour aimlessly walking up and down analysing supermarket shelves products, it is far more conducive to my recovery to ask another to help me choose, then when feeling mentally strong enough challenging the decision independently.
As aforementioned, on the surface it seems and feels ridiculous to struggle over what we are so lucky to have. However, I also understand in myself that the struggle is far deeper than what is on (or not on) my plate… Focussing on the control I falsely feel from managing food, exercise and appeasing the eating disordered part of my brain offers an escape from other responsibilities which for so long I have feared. Though on leaving hospital the sudden freedom life brings can be overwhelming, finding ways to navigate it makes it manageable. In time, as one gains confidence and momentum in recovery, this freedom can become exciting and something to celebrate. There’s more to life than Belvita soft bakes at 3:30!
2. “You could have at least made it to Selfridges”
A definite low point during these twelve months out was my unsuccessful trip to Poundland. When it promises unseen lows, I didn’t account for that being applicable to life moments in addition to prices. Anorexia can often deceive sufferers in how ill they actually are and, in my experience, give an illusion of invincibility. When told by care teams I was ill, often my response was ‘I don’t feel ill and xyz is fine, so therefore I am the peak example of physical health and wellness you will see’. The need to recover, which I felt unnecessary (as how could I be ill if I felt fine?!), was often ignored or put off for ‘another day’. The scary truth is that anorexia will slowly destroy your body, and this is not always outwardly visible or noted. Intuitive patterns our body miraculously performs can be disrupted by an illness such as anorexia. I do not notice or trust when tired, as to my eating disorder that would be simple laziness. I do not notice if hungry or needing food, as I can feel undeserving or greedy. With both these major aspects of survival being (slightly) messed up by how I have damaged my body in self-neglect, it can be hard to listen to and meet the bodies needs it may otherwise naturally tell you to follow. Likened to a Duracell bunny, in the past I have just kept going driven by the deceptive nature of the illness in fear that rest would be a waste of time or lazy. In reality, rest is actually the most productive thing you can do for your body when you listen to what it needs!
Returning to the joyous aisle of Poundland is where I came to the unhappy realisation that, despite making me believe I was, I am not in fact invincible to the damage anorexia does to your body. The time I had spent on my high horse disagreeing with medical professionals and claiming the long-term impacts they told me of would never happen to me were over. As I entered Poundland, heading to the drinks aisle, I collapsed. Embarrassingly, a side effect prior to this was a state of delirium, so I had classily stuck my head IN THE FREEZER SHELF. Reflecting on this, whilst looking stupidly, I also thought interestingly it shows how your body goes into survival mode, as in that moment in knew I had to look for resources to reverse what was happening. So I will argue, though the more conscious part of my brain had sort of really made an a*se of myself, the primitive survival mode was quite clever. This shows why not to mess with the well-oiled machine of the human body, which can look after itself far better without anorexia.
Though I now write about this scenario in a lighter manner, on reflection it was terrifying and gave me a reality shock into what I was doing to my body at a young age and the future implications this could have. I woke in an ambulance being blue lighted to the hospital, still in a state of delirium. My dad, who was working close to where I had gone out, was in the ambulance having been contacted by my mum. I didn’t actually know this had been done as I’m more like a 90 year old when operating my phone, but I had an emergency contact number and an angel in Poundland had used this to contact my family. Mini lesson is therefore set up an emergency contact on your phone and have the medical ID filled in! Accompanied by the two kindest, most understanding paramedics and my dad I was taken into the hospital, still raving mad and talking b*llocks. If people ever think anorexia is a glamorous illness or wanting a model lifestyle, this moment can encapsulate quite easily why it is not. Your faith in humanity is restored when you realise during that day how many amazing people saved my life. From the person who called my parents and the ambulance, Poundland for supplying the emergency sugar coke, my dad and mum for yet again putting up with one of my poor decisions and the incredible NHS staff, that day I was truly fortunate. In the meantime my sausage dog was tucking into another dog’s dinner, having temporarily been rescued by one of my dad’s work colleagues and immediately bossing the other dog around.
Following this day there was ‘prescribed a*se sitting on time’, which with a difficulty to stop was rather painful. However, through realising that my body actually craved, needed and deserved rest I learned stopping is the best thing. Though I have slightly messed up the intuitive patterns which show you when you need rest or meet any basic need, by spending time listening to professionals and following through with their advice, I began to restore some strength back. The event has still left me quite shaken and anxious, but taught me that despite what anorexia can make you believe, you are not invincible to the damage it causes. It is a life-threatening illness, and I was reminded that day and use this as motivation to fight back. This was certainly a scary teaching within the twelve months of freedom, but also one of the most important ones. I was reminded of how immensely fortunate I am to have a care network around me and, though not in the best way, that I should appreciate my body and listen to its needs. You do not have to deserve or earn the right to eat, it is an essential need for the body and non-negotiable. If you are doing more, your body needs more energy. Feeling tired and weak is not being self-disciplined or an achievement. Whilst anorexia has led me to A&E and pretty embarrassing moments, living fuelled will lead you to memories of happier times. Returning to the title of this learning, when sat once again by my side as I rambled nonsense in the hospital to doctors about how amazingly wonderful I was, my dad held my hand and said (though he obviously doesn’t want it to happen again) “next time, just make it to Selfridges, or somewhere slightly more classy”.
So that finishes our next two learnings that befell me out of hospital amidst the excitement of supermarket aisles. Anorexia will lead you to having your head in a frozen fish aisle, clinging onto a Pepsi max. Alternatively, you can waste your life deciding between Weetabix or Lidl’s own cereal and the reasons why you deserve x over y. An eating disorder can find the most RIDICULOUS reasons to stop you making decisions. You do not need to repent for your sinful year three behaviour or something that happened in 2006 to deserve a potato. Living a life pushing the boundaries and irrational rules set by the eating disorder can lead you to SO much more. That is far easier said than done. I would love to say hitting the deck in Poundland revolutionised my thinking, however the cruel grips of the illness are not that easy to release. It is not a simple choice or thing that can be undone, and following that event I’ve had to fight everyday to do the opposite action. I know deep down recovery is the only choice, as living a life with this illness causing irreparable damage both mentally and physically is misery. Keep fighting on with those you love and trust by your side, an emergency pack of glucose tabs and determination. Fake it till you make it, even if it doesn’t feel right to the disordered part of your mind. I have faith that better things lie ahead for all!