The Fat Guy in the Pool

Before you look away in disgust because of the title of this, you should think twice. This post is basically a therapy session, and the title is an analagy for what I am about to teach. It is not a judgement, far from it. Read on, you will see. 

I go swimming every day. I know I swim too fast, too far (3km) and for too long, but I have a problem with exercise and we will talk about that another day. Or later on in this post. 

A couple of months ago I was swimming away and a huge guy got in and started swimming. When I say huge I mean he really was huge. I've seen him a good few times since, he comes quite often. I've even seen him walking his dogs and chatted to him briefly outside of the leisure centre, so he must be from around here. 

I used to be a snob. I'm not happy about it and I wish it wasn't true, but I used to be seriously judgemental, particularly at school. I shopped in Brown Thomas, and if I bought anything in Penneys or some other high street shop, I hid the bag so that nobody would know I bought something from there. I cared deeply about what people thought of me, without considering that people might be thinking 'she and her friends are fucking snobs'. Which I wouldn't blame them for, they probably were, and they were right. On no uniform days, me and my friends once sat in a corner commenting and giving marks out of ten for people's outfit choices as they walked past. I am NOT proud of that and I hate admitting it (afraid what people think of me, duh) but we honestly did that. There was one girl who the boys in our group christened "number ten" because she was fucking gorgeous, as a result of that game. 

What a turnaround, given how I am now. I am one of the most accepting and non judgemental people you can find. At least, I try to be. Sometimes I'm not but I really try very hard to see the good in people, and in situations. It doesn't always work, inside my head, but I have a little method which I have trained myself to do. It's a fairly simple concept, but it has really helped me be a better person, to have better thoughts, better comments, and a better outlook on life. All it is, is when you have a negative thought, anything at all remotely negative about a person or a situation or an opinion about something or someone that is negative or distasteful, you immediately and consciously replace it with a positive one. 

Here's where the fat guy in the pool comes in. He's an example. When I first saw him, my first thought was a negative one, I thought something probably along the lines of 'holy shit he's fat how can he walk around nearly naked looking like that, ugh that's gross........' and so on. It was not nice and I felt bad for thinking it. But the next thing that came in to my head was 'hang on, this guy is swimming. He's exercising which means he is trying to do something about his weight. Well fair fucking play to him'. See? I consciously and deliberately replaced the bad thought with a good one. I've been doing this, practicing this for a few years now. It's not as easy as it sounds and once you start doing it, you really notice how many damn times a day negative thoughts flit through your head. Most of mine still are. Even things like the weather (this is a favourite of mine)... when it starts raining and you're out with no hat or hood. You think 'Fucking fuckety fuck I hate this bloody country' but replace it with, 'hey look, God is watering His flowers'. I'm not even religious but that's honestly what I think when it rains. Nearly every time... After the fuckety fuck part. Replace negative with positive. 

My best friend is having a bit of a tough time at the moment and she's reading a lot of self - help books and stuff, and when we go for walks together or coffee or just hang out, we talk about this kinda stuff, and I try to help her by sharing my therapeutic knowledge from the amount of stuff I have learned over the years. I've learned a LOT of stuff, life skills, problem solving skills, life lessons, how to be an adult, how to enjoy life and how to process it without causing x y and z emotions and feelings. How to get the most out of the cards you've been dealt. You know. But I have this big huge toolbox of therapy. And in all fairness, I do use it. (Just not on myself haha) No I'm joking, I'm joking. I've learned some really good ways of dealing with life and the feelings and emotions it envokes at times. I believe everyone should have this toolbox. So many people need it. But on the plus side, I do use some of the things nearly every day. I'm lucky, because a lot of people I know have a great big toolbox full of therapy and they have no idea how to put it in to practice. They just have the toolbox. No idea what the spanner is for. Etc.

Anyway, this best friend has been helping me, and I (I hope) have been helping her. She calls me her guru. But I explained the thing about replacing negative thoughts with positive ones, about catching yourself thinking bad things, and replacing them with good things or things that make it seem a bit more hopeful. I'm not just talking about the weather, I'm really talking much, much deeper. "I can't go on" could be replaced with "Let's get through the next hour and then see what I feel like". You might feel a whole lot better in an hour. Maybe you won't, but what alternative is there. You have to keep going. And you know what? The darkest hour has only sixty minutes. So. 

But the whole thing started as a bit of a joke, I was just trying to explain the good/bad thought replacement method. But it's become a thing now, when we talk. The Fat Guy in the Pool. It all comes back to that, the fat guy in the pool. I think I'll make it the title of my motivation and self help convention. You know, like George Clooney and the What's In Your Backpack talk in that movie a couple of years ago, called Up in the Air. Anyway that's beside the point. What I am trying to say is that no matter where you go and no matter how negative things are, there is always a positive side. You have to look for it sometimes, but it's always there. Somewhere. 

I made a further discovery about the fat guy the other day. I was walking Milo, and he was there, in the park, with his dog. It was a lovely sunny evening and Milo went up to his dog to say hi, so I asked him did he go swimming today. His first reaction was one of surprise, he was like, what? And I said, oh, I see you at the pool sometimes, do you go quite often, and he was like, oh right, yeah, sorry, I don't wear my glasses when I'm swimming so I didn't know who you were. And then we had a chat about swimming, eye sight, and dogs, and went on our way. The point I am trying to make is one about judgement. When I saw him at the pool, my first thought was about his weight and was really negative and horrible, which I am ashamed of. Ok, yes, I replaced it with a nicer one, but the negativity was still there originally. If I had met him in the park before I knew that he was a fellow swimmer, I may never have had that negative thought. But! That's not my point. What I am (inadvertently) trying to say is that first judgement should never be your final one, and you should never judge based on looks and appearance because it turned out that the fat guy was really nice, even if he didn't even smile at me while swimming together a few times. Why? Turns out there was a reason: he can't see without his glasses. So really, there's always a reason and there's always an explanation and often, it resolves itself in a nice way. So there's another message in this story: looks really can be decieving, and you should never judge until you investigate something further. 

So all in all, this guy, this random guy who happens to be fat has taught me a lot, and has inadvertently helped me and he will never know it. I could never tell him, because I couldn't call him fat to his face (obviously not). So me and my friend and anyone who chooses to read this will learn a valuable life lesson and he didn't even do anything, all he did was go for a swim. Little miracles happen everywhere, every minute of every day. You just have to be willing to shelve the negativity and let in a little light. It's always there. 

The Fuel

Yesterday was the 12th anniversary of the 7/7 bombings in London, 2005. Although it took a full seven days to find and identify her, we lost someone that day. Emily, my first cousin. She was 24 years old. I don't really want to talk about it but I wanted to acknowledge it because she meant a lot, and she is never forgotten. I just wanted to start my post with this today because I have a very heavy feeling in my chest thinking about it, and I didn't acknowledge it yesterday, on the day, because there was a lot going on. It's not that I forgot, I think of her most days, but I didn't realise the date. And now I feel really guilty about that which is definitely adding to the feeling in my chest. Going out tonight, in her honour. I will drink to her memory. Emily, we loved you. What a God damn fucking waste. 

I had somewhat of an encounter last night, almost immediately after putting up my last post. It left me literally shaking with anger and disbelief. I had to get out of the house, so I went to find Kegan where I knew he would be and we had a drink together and we talked it through as he calmed me down. Kegan really is a wonderful person and he knows me, and my emotions, very well. He knew exactly what to say to help me through the situation. He always does. I wish I was half the partner he is to me, because he can literally gauge exactly what he needs to say or how to act to make me feel better. Like the other day - when I was watering Aine's plants, and the hose broke and I panicked and completely overreacted and rang him bawling crying. The first thing he said was "Shut the fuck up and stop crying" which worked. Then he said Pippa it's ok, relax, we can sort this, nd then he calmly talked me through fixing the hose. Which I did. He wasn't angry and he didn't get cross with me - no, telling me to shut the fuck up was not cross, it was his way of shocking me out of my hysterical state, and it worked. He must be getting used to my bullshit because he knows what to do whatever the situation. Yesterday, he proved his love and attentive nature yet again. And he gave me a good idea too, hence the reason for this post. 

What happened was this: I wrote an in - depth post about the general struggles of living with an eating disorder. I aim for complete honesty, and I do not sugar-coat the information or make it look pretty. Why? Because it's NOT pretty and people need to know this. I am not in denial, though I will acknowledge that I certainly used to be. Others, however, live in the pretense that things are okay when they are far from it. I know when I am in trouble and I address it and try to solve it. Which is why I am so fervently writing my blog at the moment, because it is my space to get everything out there and as a result, try to process it. And it works. It's like a way of getting to know yourself, and get to understand the reasons why you do things the way you do. 

Other people, who I would love to name and shame but won't, live in denial. This person I am talking about was in hospital with me when I was 18. She was 23 at the time and she is 34 now. Her anorexia was very advanced, far more than mine was (at the time, I have since become equally as unwell and close to death) and basically I hated her. We, as normal people, did not get on, and forced together in a hospital environment we clashed many times. She did not want to be there and she tried her hardest in every single way to fight the system and stay ill. Meanwhile I was trying to get better. I picked up a lot of bad habits from her and to this day some of them are still habits. 

For example... when I get anxious or restless, I wriggle. Just move my feet and legs a lot. I got this from her. She used to do this, in a fruitless attempt to burn off the calories they were feeding her, and it. drove. me. fucking. nuts. Even the nurses used to (I swear) HOLD her legs to try and stop her doing it, but she still did. I used to get really upset about it and once stormed out of the room in protest, which resulted in me being punished, making the situation even worse. We never got on, mainly because she never had any intention of getting better, and to this day she still remains as anorexic as ever. I will never forget some of the things she said and did to me in the ten months I lived with her in hospital. I will forgive them though, because that is the right thing to do. In forgiving, we set ourselves free. I will not be tied to her in any way. So I forgive and let it go. 

However, her actions yesterday did not exactly appeal to my forgiving nature. After I put up my post yesterday, I recieved a comment from her. It simply said "You should put trigger warnings on these", which instantly gave me a sense of foreboding. I just said "What?" to see if she would explain exactly what she meant. She did. She said that she never would have read the post had she known what it said and that she felt it would give her bad thoughts, or mess with her head. This pissed me off, so I just said "Well then don't read it. Problem solved". What I wanted to say was "Nobody fucking asked you" but I didn't. Anyway then she said that she had read it and that she was trying to recover and didn't want to read about how I didn't take my Ensures "like it was some kind of badge of honour" BADGE OF HONOUR????? It CLEARLY said that I hated admitting it and I wasn't proud of it. I wrote that feeling very and deeply ashamed of it, did she forget to read this bit?? 

People like this are poison. Let me explain. Anorexia is a very competitive illness, and many people who suffer from it have what is known as an 'Anorexia rival', someone who they compare themselves to and aspire to look like. In a hospital environment, this is dangerous. In a ward full of people trying to lose weight and nearly killing themselves in to process, the thinnest person is the envy of the rest. Not many people with anroexia will admit to the jealous and competitive nature of the illness but it is there. Oh, by God, it is there. If one of us refused a meal, we all did. 'Why should I eat if she doesn't?' if that helps explain it. Many girls, particularly younger sufferers, may have a file of people they wish they looked like. This is why Photoshop and airbrushing is considered so dangerous, it gives vulnerable girls the wrong idea about what women should really look like. I have very clear recollections of weeping over a copy of cosmopolitan magazine at two o'clock in the morning, contemplating cutting flesh away from my stomach and thighs with a knife. At the age of fourteen. I am sure I am not alone in this, even if it sounds impossible to comprehend. I am not lying. 

Anyway, this girl obviously read my post and thought, hey, let's shit stir a bit, because she thinks I never took my Ensure while I was in hospital with her (Which actually, I DID, I was talking about later years, many years later) and basically, she got jealous. This girl, the girl who threw glasses of Ensure at the nurses, decided that I was "wearing a badge of honour" by stating the fact that I did not drink my Ensures. SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK. What the bloody fuck gives anybody the right to come and shit all over the ONE thing that is actually keeping me sane at the moment and have the audacity to say that I am proud of something which I USED to do, i.e. DON'T DO ANYMORE and that I clearly said I am not proud of it. Someone with issues does that. Someone who is still ill because they're still looking for a rival, someone in denial of their own problems. 

This same girl went on television not too long ago to talk about eating disorders. I have written out talks to give to students in schools about anorexia and bulimia, because I feel very strongly that there is not enough information out there for girls (and boys) and as a result people suffer in silence. The lack of understanding about eating disorders is astounding, and much of it is shrouded in secrecy, and hushed up. This breaks my heart. I went to my old school to ask if they would be willing to take me on as a guest speaker, and then wrote a talk. They agreed but then said they had enough speakers that year but I am not done. I will tour Ireland if that's what it takes. BUT. Not unless I am a normal weight like I am at the moment. Because of the competitive nature of the illness. What kind of message does it send to vulnerable girls obsessed with body image if someone very underweight stands before them and tells them to eat. The wrong message. It's unbelievably hypocritical and I feel very very strongly about this. I would never ever go on television or tour schools talking about eating disorders if I was not in a good place myself. It's a disgrace that she was allowed to at her weight. Now to be fair to her, she spoke quite coherently but there was nothing to her, and I just feel this sends the wrong message. It's a bit like holding an alcoholic intervention in a pub. I hope this makes sense.

It's been a day or two since this happened now, it's Monday and this shit went down on Friday, so I have calmed down. She deleted me just after writing those comments under my post, so I now feel I can say what I like, she won't see it. Also, I never have to talk to her again. I only did out of politeness anyway really. I try my best, most of the time, to only allow positive influences in my life. This girl is not a positive influence and none of us need that. Everyone has people like that in their lives, but not all of us know how to filter people like this out. Not everyone even realises that certain people ARE a negative influence. I have a few, and I tend to avoid them these days. I learned this the hard way. Negative influences can be disguised as positive ones, particularly when the person in question is manipulative as well. It can be really hard to figure out who those people are in your life, but it can be done:

Step one: Identification. Everyone has a few... and sometimes you know who they are straight away, sometimes you have to think about it. Whatever the case, make a list of people that you think are either causing problems or maybe making you behave in a way that causes problems in life. Either way, those people are the ones who you do not need in your life. The first is easy enough to identify, the second, is more sneaky and manipulative, because it's disguised, because it's you doing the negative acting, not them. But these people are still negative INFLUENCES, because they indirectly cause the behaviour, which means that they are a problem.

Step two: Removal. This is harder. Often, negative people know FULL WELL that they are causing problems in your life, and they are reluctant to get the fuck out of your life. Especially the manipulative ones I mentioned, because they are doing it deliberately. Another reason these people might be harder to delete from your life is because some of your positive influences are also friends with them. So, sometimes you have to lose both, and that's really tough. It makes it a lot harder. Other times though, especially with the really important people in your life, they too, have identified your negative influence. Use this, they can help you get rid of them. The removal process doesn't have to be a complete extermination!! You can just sort of... filter them out, at least, their negative behaviour. You can simply CHOOSE to only accept positive people and positive actions in to your life. This is honestly easier than it sounds and it doesn't mean you have to just shut out the negative people. You can accept the good, and reject the bad... but in your head, that way it's not obvious what you're doing, except to yourself or people who know you intimately. They may not even know you're doing it, but most importantly, you will know. It doesn't make you two-faced, because you're still being honest with the people that actually matter, and you're being honest with yourself and at the end of the day, that's all that matters. 

Have I made ANY sense at all? I wasn't trying to be cryptic, but it's harder to explain when you don't have a good example. I actually _do_ have a really good example, but I don't want to name and shame... I have successfully removed someone from my head without really removing them from my life, not completely anyway... and she doesn't even know. I think the might have even done the same to me. Not bothered. She was manipulative and I am not the only person who has removed her from their lives. She came with a disguise too. A big one. I've watched her worm her way in to the life of a lot of people I care about, pretending to love and care for them, when actually all she was doing was enhancing her own life, with little care for the consequence on their lives. Some people are just like that, and once you know this, you can be on your guard, and either avoid or filter them. Take the good with the bad, that's fine. Just be aware that that's what you're doing. 

Awareness... this is where therapy starts. Question 1, what are you feeling? Identify the feeling, and become aware of it. question 2, where in your body is that feeling? For example, "I feel disappointed", where in your body are you feeling it, "in my chest. My chest is really heavy". When you have identified the what and where, you suddenly seem a lot closer to finding out HOW not to feel bad any more. Or how to embrace the good feeling, it works both ways. Elation... where are you feeling it? Behind my eyes, they're dancing because I feel so good and my chest feels like I've got a balloon in it... Or whatever. Acknowledging that a feeling is there in black and white is half the battle to feeling it again or getting rid of it. From there, pin pointing the reason why you're feeling a certain way is easier because you're focusing on it, and you can then work on fixing it. 

Ok well, we've done all the wheres, whats and whys and hows, so I'm going to publish this because it's now the 13th. I've been writing this one for days. I'm now completely over the bullshit that whatshername put me through because it was nearly a week ago. Hopefully anybody else out there having a tough time who reads this will actually take good advice from it, which after all is why I wrote it. Here's hoping. Also, I hope that the little bit about awareness made sense. Awareness is the first step to a healthy mind and soul. Take note. 

The Trial

I had to go food shopping today. I usually spend between 60 and 80 a week, including pet and cleaning supplies. But that doesn't include what I spend on chocolate and stuff like cereal bars which I get from a different shop, so my food bills are quite high really. But see, I make everything from first principles which is quite an expensive way of doing things. But I do that because generally when you make stuff yourself it's healthier and, importantly for me, usually lower in fat than ready cooked foods. Convenience food is cheaper. Ingredients can be expensive. And I have a thing about having a well stocked cupboard. I hate when it's empty, so when I go shopping I replace anything missing even if I'm not particularly planning on using it. I like to know that when I'm deciding what to have for dinner, I can make anything and the required ingredients will be there, ready. I also like to get everything I think I will need for the entire week. I hate having to buy food mid week. Planning.  Precision. Black. White. You know what I'm like. If I have to buy anything mid week other than milk I feel like I've failed, because I didn't plan. I realise this is completely ridiculous, but I am very set in my ways. Many people think it's crazy behaviour. Maybe it is. Maybe there's no "maybe" about it. It IS crazy. 

Actually, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Do I do this? I certainly used to. Maybe not quite, I think I did the same thing over and over and HOPED for different results, clinging to false hope that one day my method, my big distraction technique would finally ebb away some of the crippling pain I was feeling inside. It never did. Not once. So, the question begging to be answered is, why have I started all this all over again? I know full well it doesn't work, and yet it's been like a week and I'm already back in old routine, paths I had stopped treading for nearly a whole year. I found new paths. And they were good ones, happy ones, lined with flowers. 

The human brain is actually pretty interesting. You can do things over and over, so many times, that your brain maps out a little path, and this gets trodden in, until your brain almost automatically goes down it because that's what it's used to. To make a new path, to do something new and different, therefore, is difficult. Your brain has to make a new trail. Imagine going through a forest. Imagine you go through this forest everyday. After a while, you're going to make a pathway and hey, if you go through it everyday, what are you automatically going to do? You take the easy route, the path that's already there. Obviously. One day though, you might have to do things differently. It's simple science, that doing this is going to feel like, really really hard. Because you're used to that pathway. You have to start all over again, the blood flows around your brain in a new way and for a while, it feels pretty odd. After a while, if you keep doing it that way, without reverting back to the old way, the brain gets used to it, the tread gets deeper in the new path, and hey presto, you've done it! We do this in small and big ways. Simple things, like the order you put your clothes on in the morning, or the way you make breakfast. Then you move on to bigger things, learning to ride a bike, or driving. Some of these paths stay with you for life, and the need to change them never arises. Fine. But some things, they don't work. Just because your brain is used to treading that path doesn't make it the right way, or the way that is most efficient or practical. It's just what you're used to. Your process. Sometimes, then, you have to change it. Change is hard, is basically what I'm trying to say. It's actually scientifically hard to do. For everyone. Hope this is fairly well explained. See? You're not useless after all. That's just how the human brain works. 

So what happened? What changed, you might ask? Nothing. I trod out this lovely new pathway for myself and I was honestly getting used to going down it, and enjoying it. And then suddenly it just got too hard. I didn't decide to stop. I just went down the wrong path once and it seemed like an easier option so I did it a few times in a row and now the other one feels too hard. I know it's not though, because seriously, how many times have I done it? I CAN fix this. But the more you do something one way, the harder it is to do it the other way. Fact. 

Also, I have this thing. This THING. It's a curse really, but it can be a blessing if I use it in the right way. The thing is this: Do it twice, do it forever. That's all. Or, if I do it once I can do it again. And then, do it twice, do it forever. This can work in two ways: 1) It's a positive thing which is reinforced, and then anchored in to place by repeating the behaviour in question, until it becomes a habitual thing, or 2) It's a damaging behaviour that becomes a horrible and crippling habit especially if I do that thing twice in a row. It becomes a THING. Do it twice, do it forever. I either CAN do it again, or I WILL do it again. Kegan thinks it's mad. It is, I know this. And until I break that way of thinking I may never be free. Or maybe not even break it. Just make it the positive way only, the "can", not the "will". Maybe one day I will. It's not just food that I do this with. I do it with exercise as well, like if one day I do an extra five minutes, I force myself to do that again no matter how tired I am the following day, and you see how easily it becomes a thing. That's why my exercise gets more and more, because if I do it once, I feel like I have to do it again the next day. Do it twice, do it forever. 

And then if I skip one meal, or bring it back up, I feel like I have to do that again, because I did it the previous day. It quickly spirals in to binge behaviour. 

So today was a trial. I knew I was going food shopping today.  I made a careful list, with absolutely no food on it that I knew I wouldn't be absolutely sure I was actually going to eat and keep down. I promised myself that I would stick to the list and definitely would not buy a week supply of food to binge on... When I make a list I stick to it, and if it 's not on the list I just don't buy it. I make a list while I am mentally walking around the shop, and so when I get to the supermarket I know what to get from what section. Yeah, I forgot to bring the list. Disaster. I didn't know what to buy so I bought a load of crap I know I won't keep down. I wasn't ridiculous, and I didn't buy a week's supply. I did not go over budget or spend more than I usually do on food, so at least that's something. I tried very hard not to be like the lunatic I used to be in shops, buying absolutely everything. I didn't buy chocolate, I didn't buy butter, bread, cereals, the usual suspects. But certain things, I know full well I'm not planning on eating. Yeah, I feel bad about it. Please don't judge, 'cause I do that enough myself. I am disappointed in myself. But supermarkets can be overwhelming. 

It's a dangerous place for an anorexic, a supermarket. I know the calorie content of almost everything. Like everything. I learned them off, like poetry to an English teacher. Every chocolate bar, every gram of pasta, cheese, each brand of butter, each variety of sliced bread. I'm not proud of it and I know it's a massive waste of space in my head. But that's just the way it is. I still check them when I'm buying them, just in case I find a lower calorie brand, or one with less fat in it. The only time I do not check it is if I am not planning on keeping it down. Then, I don't give a fuck what's in it, as long as it's big and it's cheap. Sad, isn't it? Supermarkets used to be the cause of many panic attacks for me. I used to go in, and think that I would get fat if I breathed in the smell of baking bread or if I touched something high in fat. I have literally thrown items that I deem not to be "allowed" back on the shelves as if they were burning me. Many times. I did it the other day. Again, not proud of it. It's a well trodden pathway. 

As dangerous as I am in a supermarket as an anorexic, I am far worse as a bulimic. Rational thought goes out of the window when presented with a whole and huge market full of potential binges. I don't care about anything or anyone, I will wholly focus on how much will fit in the trolley. It must be quite something to witness. This is no word of a lie, I honestly used to buy 24 tubs of butter every single week. I spent 70 or 80 quid a week on chocolate and I didn't keep down a single gram of it. I haven't actually eaten butter for over ten years, and I highly doubt I ever will again. Do you know what's worse? I bought some this week. I had to hide it in case I got found out. The SHAME if Kegan found it. I admitted it to my mum and she nearly cried. She had to witness her daughter buying inhuman amounts of the stuff week in week out, for years on end. Knowing full well that I never kept down a single scraping of it. Not once. Might as well, while I'm here, admit that I haven't kept down a single sip of Ensure supplement drinks prescribed to me by my doctor when I was dangerously ill and at risk of collapse. Not since I was 18. 11 years and not one sip. Ever. It all came back up. I really hope the pharmacy isn't reading this, because I blatantly lied to every single one of them about it. I've told a hell of a lot of lies in the last 14 years. Compulsively. I could swear black was white and get everyone around me to believe it. It got to the stage where I basically believed it myself. I wish I was making all this up, but I'm not. Every word is true. I've done dishonest, I'm not doing it again. I have enough secrets as it is, I'm not making any more.

Honesty is hugely important for me. I like people to be bluntly honest, and tell me exactly what they think of me, my actions, my friends, my family, everything. I believe everyone should (politely) say what they think. I spent most of my life changing my personality and opinions based on what I thought they wanted them to be, and it didn't do me any favours. I completely masked every thought and feeling if it didn't fit with what I thought people wanted. And now I'm pretty fucked up, as mental health goes. In a group therapy session once, the therapist sat us all in a circle and asked us what we thought of Big Brother. It just so happened that I was at the edge of the circle, and I was asked first. Honestly, I said I thought it was a load of bollocks and that I hated it. Imagine my spreading feeling of dread as every single one of the people sitting in the circle said they loved it. The therapist then asked us if we had changed our answer based on what other people had said. I was completely aghast, and I did admit that if I had been last to be asked, I would have said I loved it. I was not alone. Almost all the girls in the circle said that either they changed their answer because of what the girl before them had said, or that they would have done if asked again. Who else does this??? Is this a human thing? Are we really that dishonest with ourselves and so readily willing to morph in to an image of what others want or expect? Apparently, we are. 

Luckily for me, there are a lot of people in my life who would not do this, and as a result I do it less than I used to. Kegan caught me doing it the other day though, changing my opinion because of what his opinion was, and he got pretty cross with me over it. Rightly so. Honesty. Hugely important for Kegan too, if there's one thing he hates more than anything else it's lying. Our relationship is built on trust and honesty and because of that we are strong, through everything. He's been amazingly supportive and understanding of the events of this week. He never once lost hope in me, and I think that's why we're so strong. He genuinely believes in me, even when I have given up hope of ever beating this. And I mean all hope... I mean so hopeless I rang my parents to come to the hospital to say goodbye at 1 in the morning. But Kegan believed in me at a time when nobody else did. There's only one other person in the world who does, and that's my mother. Angels exist, my mum and Kegan are living proof. I lost a lot of friends when this all started coming out in the open, a lot of people were not willing to sit by and watch me slowly commit suicide. I don't blame them and I don't think badly of them. Even my own sister has told me that if she was not my sister she would not have remained by my side. Fair enough, because I was a nightmare. Not everybody has the gift of empathy. You find true friendship in times of hardship. Everyone knows that. 

Empathy. Yes, I did mean 'gift' when I said it. Because it is a gift. There's a little saying I like: Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift, that's why it's called the present. You have to take what you're given. Empathy simply means the ability to put yourself in the shoes of others. In doing so, you learn to feel how they are feeling and in doing so, hopefully, help them overcome it. If more healthcare professionals had it, the HSE and the Irish health system wouldn't be in such a mess. You know, I look at my (ex) psychiatrist. He's a DICK and I hate him and he hates me. He has every reason to, he's seen me in some really bad places, and I've self harmed in front of him in the past. He watched. And then sedated me. 

People like him have no business being mental health professionals. "Professionals". That means, in his case, he learned off every single symptom of every mental health illness, and then learned off the book of medications to treat the illnesses and you can see it when you talk to him, it's like he's reading a textbook. He clearly has no idea how the patients are actually feeling and it shows. Last time I went to him, he said "So. You're back" and I only was because I needed him to write a letter (which he refused to do) and when I told him that I was 9 months bulimia free, do you know what he said? "Well I don't believe you". Swear to God. When he gave me another appointment card, I tore it up as I walked out of his office. I really hope he saw. I have a friend who happens to be under his "care" as well, and she hates him too. Medication is the only answer with him. And actually, it's a load of money - making bullshit. I gave up my sleeping tablets two weeks ago and I am waaaaay better off without them. It's like a miracle. Apart from anything else those things are meant to be temporary, for 8 to 12 weeks max., yet I have been taking them for ten years. Not consistently, on and off, but it has been ten years. So you can imagine how addicted to them my body must be by now. Anyway I'm never taking them again. They make me irrational, and I am not in control of my actions for about 10 hours - about half an hour after I take them until late morning. They have hangover effects, and they block memory. I could watch an entire movie after taking them and have absolutely no idea what it was even called the next morning. It's actually quite a frightening concept, that your brain can be tricked in this way. 

I read an article a few months ago about Lyrica, another medication I'm on, it's a mood stabilizer. The article said that it actually stops your brain from forming new synapses (The pathways I explained about earlier). I'm now on a very low dose of it at this stage, but still take it nonetheless. When I read the article, I stopped taking it. A few days later I was banging my mum's front door down and walked in and she said "What's wrong" and I burst in to tears. And I mean hysterical-I-can't-breathe sobbing. For no reason. It was only when mum said to me, you didn't take your lyrica did you, that I realised... that's how dependent on medication I am. I don't like it, but the reality is I need it. I take 20 tablets every day. 

But you know what? A lot of people need medication for mental health issues, and if they keep me steady and stable and reasonably happy most of the time, then so what? It doesn't change me (except for the way the sleeping tablets make me act in the middle of the night and I've stopped taking them). So, I take Prozac. So do a lot of people. It does actually seem to do what it says on the tin. I doubt I'll have to take all these chemicals forever, and I hope not. But I will accept it if that is the case. In the same way, I have accepted anorexia as part of my life. I refuse to accept bulimia, because I know I can live without it. But anorexia will probably be something that I "manage" for my whole life. I am no fool, I know that I will always have a warped relationship with food. I am okay with this, given how bad I used to be, I think I got off pretty lightly. If I can get over this hump. I hope so. I'll report back in a few days because writing helps a lot. It's like a diary. In the meantime, I have to get through the week. I failed my trial with the shopping trip so I have to try again next week. Here's hoping. Here's to TRYING. 

The Balance

Right, so this week has been a nightmare. I've done things this week that I thought I had left far, far behind me. I'm not proud of it, I don't like it, but most importantly, I don't plan on allowing it to become a habit. Because basically, I'm fucking miserable. Anxiety levels, 10; bad habits, 10; and good feelings, 0. Exercise levels, interestingly enough, are maybe at a 5. This is the reason for this post. That number five. They were 10 last week and 0 for a few days, and oh , look,  it's creeping back. Surprise surprise. Won't be long I expect, before it is right back up again. But for now, and the reason for this post, I did a normal amount of exercise. What, you see, I am trying to do, is find a balance. So I did regular person's exercise. To see what it would be like. 

I didn't eat though.  I haven't yet. I will have something before the day is out, because I did do some exercise. I don't eat on non exercise days. I don't deserve to. 

I realize this statement brings a new light to the word 'irrational'. Two weeks ago, it was not the case. And I didn't pay a huge amount of heed to whether it was an exercise day or not. I ate anyway. Now, I can't do that. It's only been a few days and already I have whittled out breakfast, lunch and dinner. I have a yoghurt and then a snack before I go to bed. That's it. What will it be next week? I can barely leave the house because every time I do I am thinking, they're all looking at the fat girl, and I'm half right, someone almost always comments on how I look, how WELL. That word... definition, you got fatter. That's what I interpret it in to. Always. I feel sick when someone says I look well, because I know that person is looking at what I have become and comparing the way I used to be. 

Yes, I know. I know. The way I used to be was close to death, and I looked like someone very sick. I was flicking through pictures on Facebook and I genuinely winced when I saw some of them. They're horrific. I have to be logical about this. Is that really what I want? To go back there? To get bruises from wearing socks... to be so weak I can't even have a shower but to be so bony I can't lie down in the bath? Come on. Surely not. But there's a strong part of me, that is particularly strong this week, that still feels like that's all I really deserve. Why? Deep rooted beliefs that I've lived by and followed for most of my life. Those may not ever go away, I realize. I have taught myself to ignore them for a year, but for some reason they're coming up strong lately. And the worst part is, I'm acting on them. For what? To lose weight? Oh my god that's awful. Am I really that shallow? Then I think some more and yeah, this is not about the weight. There's more going on here. There always is. 

An eating disorder is actually a distraction technique. Many mental illnesses are, particularly addictions. But an eating disorder (which should be called an eating addiction) is particularly effective. I say "effective", as if it's a good thing. In many ways, it was. I needed to escape. When you have a problem with something, or you're addicted to something, it literally consumes your every thought and controls most of your actions. So, in this way, it's an escape from reality. You don't have to think about what's really going on, any of the bad stuff. There's literally no space left in your head for the bad stuff. So you just don't think about it and life is just that little bit easier. For a while. Then the thoughts you replaced the bad shit with become toxic and begin to hurt your body soul. They eat away at it. And yes, I used that phrase on purpose. "Consume" and "eats away" are apt, do you not think? 

So, do you see how it works? Distraction. From everything. And it worked for me for fourteen years. But this year, I found a new way. I began to change. I began to live honest to god life, rather than just a mere existence. I began to allow myself to eat, and actually started to enjoy food, cooking, and eating. Once I got over my intense fear of fats and carbohydrates, I was a bit freer to cook whatever I wanted. I have learned a lot and I'm not actually a bad little chef when I put the effort in. As time went on I added new foods, new recipes and became adventurous with what I cooked. Then I started eating out. This was the biggest step. Combining social occasions with food. A huge hurdle to overcome. I did it gradually, starting with eating the same thing as Kegan, and then cooking for other people, having them over for dinner. Sharing food, enjoying it with others. Anorexia is very isolating, and bulimia possibly more so, because you can't binge in front of others. People would think you were crazy. Ha. Yeah. Anyway then I started going to restaurants, actually, the very same day I had my first bulimia free day in over 5 years. I played it safe, got a half portion. I hadn't been eating properly for very long, so I picked the safest thing on the menu. A big difference from now, where I pick what I think looks nicest or something I haven't already got in the fridge or can make myself. Also a big difference from what I used to do, which was pick the highest calorie, fattiest, biggest thing on the menu, provided I knew it would be easy to vomit up afterwards. 

When bingeing, I go out of my way to destroy the food by drowning it in butter and oil and whatever else I can find to make it as far away from the healthy and low fat, "safe" meals I just about allow myself to eat. They become almost inedible, which says a lot. 

By making food inadibly disgusting, perhaps I am subconsciously trying to stop myself from getting any pleasure or satisfaction from "feeding" the addiction. When you do it every day at least six to eight times a day, you start to hate everything about it. The thoughts, the preparation, the anxiety if it is threatened, the potential dread of not being able to do it, and a million other things. Like the fact that actually, when you think about it, you really do not want to do it at all, and for a second you think, will I just leave it and not do it, and it works for that one second... but then the demon wins, and not only does it win, the whole thing is even worse because you deserve punishment for even considering not doing it. And later... it's torture. 

So! I have decided that as of today I am going to stop this. I need to get my shit together and not give in to this demonic force that is rife inside me. You know what? I CAN do this. I am stronger than any addiction. Just by waking up in the morning, I am automatically stronger. Because I breathe, because I can open my eyes and look around, because I have an adoring dog looking back at me waiting for me to get up so that he can too. Because I am human. I am alive. 

I need to start rejoicing in this simple fact of life, and embracing the gift that is life itself. Being glad when I wake up in the morning instead of feeling like I should roll over and give up, instead of feeling sheer dread at the very thought of getting up at all. Instead of only getting up so I can burn off calories that I won't replenish. There has to be more to it than that. 

And there is. The last year has proved that. I need to focus on that, not food. It is no coincidence that as soon as I cut meals out of my day that they were replaced with binge sessions. When you don't feed your body things go to shit, especially when you're used to abusing food. Either by eating too much or too little. If I wasn't bulimic I'd be morbidly obese by now. And actually, obesity is an eating disorder. It's the same addiction. The root causes can be similar, and the feelings about foods are the same. It's actually the same illness, just takes a different form. 

Right, now that I have established that I am going to stop what I've been doing all week, I need to make a plan of action. A fool - proof formula for stopping this bullshit, but one where I don't have to eat more, because, well, one thing at a time, ok? Indulging in anorexia is one thing, but bulimic behaviours are more damaging, and appear to be much more of a problem. It affects my relationships and the feelings of people I love and I am not willing to do that. I've already done it in front of Kegan and my mother and I am not willing to put them through this again, even if I am willing to do it to myself. They are worth more to me than that, even if I do not feel I am worth more myself. Which I don't, but that's by the by. 

The plan? (Long pause where I try to think of something to write) Ok, so I don't exactly have a plan and I really don't know if I am going to be able to do this. I've got tonight and tomorrow to indulge in this, and then I have to go food shopping. I go once a week, and it will be crunch time. Being in a supermarket is a seriously difficult thing for someone with an eating disorder. It's a world of binge food, where you fill your trolley with things you've no intention of eating and keeping down, or you walk around examining the calories in everything, mostly rejecting the food because the fat content is too high. It's like going in to battle, where the enemy is yourself and the ammunition? Food. 

My main plan is to bring a set amount of money with me, put the rest in the bank and then give my bank card to Kegan or my mum. That way I can only spend what I intend to spend on food and drink that I am actually going to eat, and then once I am in the supermarket, even if I am tempted by things, the choice is taken away. And it's not even my fault, because it's in the hands of the person who has my bank card. Not that I'll be blaming them (my eating disorder will be, it'll be cursing the ground that person walks on) but it just feels like I don't have a choice. This is pretty much the only way I can think of that will stop me buying binge food. That, and the thought of the look on my mother's face if I come out of the supermarket with 24 tubs of butter like I used to buy every week. I can't bear the thought of her going through that again. She's been through enough with me. So has everybody. There's a hell of a lot of people out there who are really really fucking proud of me for having come so far, and I really don't want to let them down. I care too much. Like I said, losing weight is one thing but I will not allow myself to go back in to the abyss of bulimia. It's not what I want. Ok, I had a week of it, and the feelings and emotions that have been dragged up from the past and the behaviours and habits that came with it are just too much. I realise that I do not want that. Not again.

My main worry is that I will not be able to stop being bulimic without a) actually eating something or b) exercising less. Two things I really do not want to do right now. I wish I could stop all of it and just eat normally and exercise normally but well, the last week has proved that I've a long way to go, and the last year feels like it has been for nothing. It's such a shame, because I was doing so well and I really do feel like I've thrown it all away. But if I've learned anything, punishing myself for it only leads to further self torture, and more guilt, therefore even more punishment.... etc. It's a constant and cyclic battle that seems never to end. 

Here comes the reason for the title of this post. BALANCE. Will I honestly ever find it? My thinking has been decidedly black and white for a long, long time. All or nothing is like, my raison d'etre. It's what I do. Not just when it comes to food and exercise (especially exercise). I do it in most aspects of my life. Exercise is the most clear example. If one day I wake up and I'm particularly tired and I don't feel like I can do all my exercise, I don't do any of it. I can't remember the last time I did a "half day" as I call it. Except this week. I've decided either running OR swimming plus two walks. Not both, on top of weight training. One or the other. For someone like me, this is a lot harder than it sounds. I have to talk myself in to it. 

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, all or nothing. The point is, I now need to try and find what many of my therapists over the years call "the grey area". Or, "middle ground". I hate hate hate grey. It's the worst colour ever. And almost impossible for me to have in my life.  To me, it's a sickening compromise and I feel like a failure if I don't achieve either black or white. I either achieve everything or I don't even begin to try. That's sort of my modus operandi. However, this week I am trying to teach myself to walk on middle ground. Starting with exercise. And really if I think about it another way, which is what I'm trying to do, grey is really silver. And every cloud has a silver lining, right? It's a shiny, sparkly colour with a lot to offer. Time to realise its potential, perhaps? It's just so damn hard. I feel like a failure when I don't do things fully or properly or to the best of my ability. I feel like I might as well not even bother trying. I learned this from a pretty young age, with test results and stuff. Not being top of the class was frowned upon, and anything less than perfect was not good enough, and I internalised this and taught myself to live like this in every aspect of life. I know, I know, this a) sounds like I'm blaming my parents, which I'm not, and b) sounds like I'm feeling pitiful and sorry for myself, which I am not. I'm just stating a fact, explaining where it came from. I don't know why I taught myself to do that, it just happened, and when you do something your whole life it's pretty hard to change the way you think and act and feel about those actions. 

SO middle ground. Grey. Silver, whatever. How do I get there? Same way you get to doing anything... PRACTICE. Practice does NOT make perfect in this case. No, in this case I am teaching myself not to look for perfection. I am looking for okay. I am learning how to be okay, not nothing, and not everything. More than that. What I am really trying to do it be okay with being just OKAY. Usually when I achieve average results, I feel intense anxiety and feelings of failure. This needs to change, gradually. Because gradually is okay, it's not doing it all straight away, waking up one morning and being brilliant at being okay. This is not okay!! Because it's an overachievement, which is exactly what I'm trying to teach myself NOT to do. 

Am I being too cryptic with my words? Perhaps. Much of this is probably bullshit, but I just write what I'm thinking, often without editing. That much is probably obvious, readers. I will report back on how being a number five goes for the rest of the week, and see if I make silver more of a permanent feature in life. It seems like a pretty happy place. I'd say the reason I don't like yet is because it's new, and new is scary, new is different. New could be good though. Let's give it a try. 

The Aftermath

Feel like writing  today, don't know why. Perhaps I have a lot to say, perhaps it's all bullshit, but here I am. The first thing I noticed when I signed in was my last post about Tuesdays, and it's funny I did, because I was only thinking about it yesterday; I made another amazing decision on a Tuesday, this one more recent. I decided to go sky diving for charity. I really don't know what made me say yes, but my god,  I am so glad I did.

Other than raising over 1,100 euro for Irish Autism Action, I put myself in a position, sensually, that people with autism go through every day of their lives. Picture it: getting in to a tiny aeroplane and flying up to 12,000 feet, being strapped very tightly to someone you've only just met... they open the door of the plane... the wind hits your face as you clamber over, cumbersome with all the equipment and gear you've got on you. you look down and all you see is empty space, and then they count to three... Next thing you know, you're falling; a great swoop in your stomach as you plummet at 130 miles an hour through empty air, and you start to scream as you think "I'm going to die today". And then, and then... you get wet all of a sudden. Why? Because you've just gone through a rain cloud. Next, you see the ground. And you're still falling, falling, falling, but not for long, because the next thing you feel is a jerk, and all of a sudden it's absolute, sheer elation. You can see for miles and miles, and nothing can touch you from up here. You're flying, there's no pain, no hardship, it's just you, floating, above everything. Away from all the usual stuff. It's an amazing feeling, and I have never felt so free in all my life. I wonder if I ever will again? That's not the point though. The point is, it's the first time, probably ever, that I have lived in the moment. I guess I used to do it, but to be honest I really don't remember it. I didn't think anything bad, or, come to think of it, anything good. For someone whose trade name is Just B, this doesn't inspire a lot of confidence. But now, finally, I can say that I truly have Just Been.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, sensory situations. Right. Ok, now picture this: You can literally hear everything, ten times louder than everyone else, and you take in every tiny sound and you have to process them as they appear in your head. A car horn and a baby cry at the same time, and you just can't handle it. It's sensory overload, but that's not all.  Your're on a bridge, and you're crossing it as traffic comes across it towards you. An everyday occurrence for residents of Killaloe. A bike, ok; a car, oh god; and then, before you can count to three, suddenly it's a huge truck, hurtling towards you at 130 miles an hour and you think "I'm going to die today".... you getting a picture? We don't cross roads like this, but it CAN be like that for people who have autism. The difference they don't get the sense of elation and invincibility quickly afterwards. They just get to the other side of the road.

My best friend has autism. I wish I knew how she felt. I don't and I never will, but I try to imagine, to put myself in her shoes, or the shoes of anyone on the spectrum... it baffles me. Ailis is an amazing girl, and I praise the day she came in to my life. She makes me think about things in a different way, and helps me with difficult thought processes. As her mother says, she has never intentionally hurt another human being, and that's more than can be said for, well, most people actually. She has something, which a lot of people don't have: empathy. It's something really, that only people who have been through some shit have. I have it, which is why I want to be a psychiatric nurse. I know I can help a lot of people. Because I know. I know what it's like. Ailis does this too. She goes through it every day. Imagine what she went through only a couple of weeks ago, she was on a bus and before her Nana could get on, the bus drove off. Imagine the panic, the fear, gripping her every pore... Jesus. So when someone describes an intense fear, she can relate. She knows what it's like, and she empathizes. This makes her special, and amazing. She has not had an easy life, but look at her it's just awe inspiring. Wow.

I've finally understood the true meaning of the words "Adrenaline Junkie". That feeling... oh my God. There's no describing it. I felt like I could run a marathon afterwards, there was electricity coursing through every vein in my body and I could feel everything. I did 200 lengths in the pool the next morning, without stopping. Just felt so... I dunno. Everything was on another level. It was unbelievable.

However, a junkie is an addict. And every addiction comes with baggage. Hence the reason for this post - The Aftermath - because what I am experiencing now is basically a come down. It's like I'm still looking for a thrill, the way I have been behaving this week. I went eleven months with no bulimia and now I'm a trainwreck and I haven't eaten for three days. The other addiction. Fuck. Fuckety fucking fuck fuck. Please don't hate me now that you've read this. I had to admit it, had to say it. Otherwise it's denial and we know where that leads. Please don't judge, just understand. I didn't fall down on purpose. I am not going to call it a relapse. That's perhaps too strong. Or maybe I just don't want to admit that things are that bad again. But "slip" makes it sound like it was only once. And it's a lot more than that. Ok, there's no word. Bad patch? Yeah, bad. Ok, so, we've established that, now how do I fix it? I've already let it spiral so I need to reel this in before it gets any worse. How though?

Come on Pippa, you've done this before. How many times have you done this now? So many. I need to break out of the eat - exercise - binge - purge - exercise cycle. I exercise because I feel guilty for eating. But I don't do a little exercise. I do a lot. Like 7 hours a day. And because of that, I have to eat a lot. When I eat a lot, I eat a hell of a lot and I end up bingeing, which of course leads to purging. Then I feel guilty, which means I need punishment, which means exercise. And so it goes. Sometimes I have to do a crash course, and completely stop exercising until such a time as I can do it sensibly. But then I can't eat. Hence why I haven't eaten in three days. I can't. I haven't earned it.

Yes, this is seriously my thought process on a daily basis. I am so disgusted by my body, every single day, that I do this every single day. Only yesterday someone said to me, God I'd love to be you for a week. HA. You wouldn't last an hour love, good luck. I do this every day because on some level, somewhere, I feel like I deserve it. I wonder if I will ever allow myself to Just B? Just be happy, just be free, just eat, just love, just be loved and just embrace my body. I doubt it.

I really thought I had done it this time. I really thought I had really, truly, finally beaten it. I guess I was wrong. Or am I? Is this just me giving it one last go to make sure this is really not what I want my life to be like? I got to spend 11 months in a state of happiness. The best eleven months of my life. By far. So what the hell am I doing? WHY am I looking back, going back in to this? It's not worth it, is it? Just cos I want to lose weight. Which I do, I want to so so badly. I need  to have a serious think about the way I am going about achieving this. My thinking is so black and white, and 'all or nothing' is my approach to everything. I doubt that I will be able to just lose a few pounds. That's all I want, but I know if that happens I will end up right back. But the thought of having a body this big for the rest of my life sparks intense fear right to the very core, and suddenly, as I write this, I am cooking food which I know full well I will not keep down. How am I back to this, in three days?? It's like a nightmare.


The worst part is how quickly the same thought processes came back, and how quickly the exact same behaviours and habits slipped right back in to place as if the last year never happened. Little things, like needing an ever more constant supply of diet fizzy drinks to stop myself from feeling hunger, and needing to eat chewing gum to trick my body in to thinking it's eating. And how, immediately, the bulimia and binge behaviours came back as soon as I started reducing my food intake. When you eat a normal amount, the risk of bingeing basically disappears, and finally, the constant thoughts of food begins to lessen. You don't think about food when you're not hungry. But in starvation mode, it's constant. Like a plague.

I think the answer lies with breaking that cycle. And of course those feelings of deserving. But who knows if that will ever right itself? I had already come to the realisation that  having an eating disorder will be a lifelong battle, and that I will probably never lose my fears, that I will always have a problem with balancing food and weight and exercise. I thought I had got off lightly, that after all the years of struggling the only problem was being obsessed with exercise. Turns out that is now the biggest problem, because it sparks all the other behaviours. Maybe it was only a matter of time. Maybe joining the gym was a huge mistake. After all, the last time I joined the gym I relapsed as well. I can't believe I just wrote that. I wasn't even thinking it, and I've only just realised it. Maybe it's time to stop thinking now. Shit's getting real.

Dinner time.