This morning I had a cup of milk on my cereal. I know it was a cup, because I measured it. This is not something I usually do. This morning I had to force myself to measure out a cup of milk, as per my dietitian’s request, because this is not something I usually do and whilst I measure my cereal I do not measure my milk. I have always pronounced this to health professionals triumphantly – I do not measure my milk, therefore I am not obsessive and I can be flexible and I am smashing this whole recovery thing. Continue reading
I’ve tried to make this blog as straightforward, honest and truthful as I possibly can. I don’t always write here if I’m struggling in a particular eating disordered way, but often I do. That has become something that I have done less and less lately – a good thing, really – particularly as I continue my recovery. In fact, I’m pretty much recovered, I’d say. I still have an aversion to white bread and this morning I had porridge for breakfast instead of raisin toast because the only raisin toast in the freezer was the cafe style one which has more calories and scares me – but perhaps next time I’ll opt for that just to prove that I really can.
This blog post is something I asked a good friend, Catherine, to write for me. It made me cry, she’s so damn wonderful! I hope it’s a useful thing for you too. Continue reading
As A put it to me – “New year. New experiences. New opportunities.”
New Years Eve isn’t a night I particularly want to recall. ED got a one up on me and after almost 2 months of no purging, I threw up dinner (nachos – one of my very scary foods). But perhaps it was symbolic of something – that ED will not be brought into the New Year; that it will just be one of those big, life-changing things that occurred in 2009 and 2010 and 2011 but will continue to be changed in 2012. Watching the Sydney fireworks on tv was very, very surreal – I’m so desperate for a better year than the last but at the same time am terrified that nothing much will really change.
I am surrounded by wonderful people. Wonderful people who want to see me achieve my goal of being eating disorderless. Wonderful people who have seen my very good days and my most terrible and love me exactly the same regardless.
2012 is the year I turn 20. I start bible college. I move into my own place. There is no way that I want any of this year to be marred by the eating disorder, and it’s definitely not my intention to let it happen. So I will continue to challenge myself. Maybe one day very soon I will tackle those nachos again.
I will continue to write my brave lists
And be happy
And when I am sad or worried or stressed, I will always make myself a cup of tea
I just want to continue to make change in 2012. I don’t want to carry any of these unhelpful habits into my adult years. And that’s something worth being stubborn about!
Happy New Year to all of you – I hope it’s a wonderful year full of new opportunities and big changes that you both learn and grow from!
Love, Rebekah xo.
Quick post before bed.
This will probably seem incredibly irrelevant, but after I went swimming yesterday I went to Woolies to buy some groceries. I bought margarine for the very first time in my life and I had a bit of a giggle when I put it in my basket. As I mentioned once in this post, I used to have an epic fear of both butter and margarine. I wouldn’t touch it. I wouldn’t let it come near a sandwich. If it got on my skin I had to scrub it off until every fatty oil was removed from my skin. And it had been like that for as long as I could remember really. So my dietitian told me that getting those essential fats from marg or butter or oil were a must. Slowly I learnt to integrate them into my diet – and my first few experiences of buttering my own bread was very frightening and difficult.
Long – winded! But do you therefore see the irony in me purchasing the margarine yesterday? I felt so blessed and happy to be able to do that. Strange I know, but recovering from an eating disorder has made me feel grateful for so many things. BE EXCITED EVERYONE I EAT MARGARINE ON MY RAISIN TOAST AND I REALLY LIKE IT AND TOUCH IT AND DON’T FREAK. WOO!
I also bought a block of Lindt chilli chocolate which has been secretly stashed away until it is required by my belly.
So much to look forward to.
Just before I hopped in the shower yesterday, I saw those scales sitting on C’s bedroom floor – where she had put them after I asked her to take them from the bathroom. I hesitated and ED stole my brain for a moment – IWASGOINGTO WEIGHMYSELFIHADTOWEIGHMYSELFICOULDN’TSTOPMYSELFFROMWEIGHINGMYSELF.
But I didn’t end up following through with those thoughts.
Why? I don’t know. Perhaps now I have enough strength to turn my eating disorder down when it demands something of me. Perhaps, after mulling over it for a little while, I realised that I don’t particularly want to live my life by the scales anymore. Or that it is irrelevant to me now, and my values lie elsewhere.
Also, I was stressed I would weigh more because I had 2 pieces of raisin toast, some yoghurt and a cup of tea in me. Which is almost beside the point, but not quite. You see, I still stress about these things sometimes. Last week for example, I was scared to go to the chiro wearing jeans because I thought I would weigh more when I stepped on the scales there.
I weighed exactly the same as I have for the past 4 months.
The eating disordered mind is so, so irrational. The frustrating part is that at the time, it seems completely logical to the individual. It is only with reflection upon the behaviour that they recognise it was wrong. I think my little fears are becoming less and less. I had a night a few weeks ago where I freaked about eating nachos for dinner. But I conquered them and it was all rather exciting, really.
My eating disorder doesn’t always win anymore. And I can’t wait until the day when I can say that it never wins. That will be spectacular indeed.
Love, Rebekah xxxx
Sitting in an oversized jumper, drinking Twinings English Breakfast tea and just spotted a huntsman on the wall.
Think you’re all about due for an update.
The weather has been crummy, the cats follow me around a lot, yesterday I ate a strange German sausage for lunch, I’m trying to find things to fill in my mornings which is sometimes difficult and thus they drag a little, I started sleeping with my door closed (which I’ve never done) primarily because some unnamed people in this house snore loudly.
Yesterday I had a CT scan for a potential sinus infection, I had afternoon tea with L & A (fudge and coffee!), I bought lovely orange flowers of some variety that I cannot currently recall and went on a picnic with B & L (it was really, really, really fantastic).
What do I miss?
The obvious. The company of some of my favourite people. Sleeping in a double bed. The daily grind coffee. Being tucked in. Forehead kisses. (I know, I need to grow up v. soon). Knowing what’s going on in peoples’ lives all the time. Dancing wildly in the lounge room to James Brown. Being encouraged to sing in the shower. Also, I really, really reaaaaaally miss this girl:
Basically listening to my happy songs playlist on ze ipod over and over again in the coming days. It’s sure to get the positive vibes flowing.
Love, Rebekah XX
I haven’t written lately because I’ve been busy. And if I haven’t been busy, I’ve been sad. And if I haven’t been either of those things, I’ve been packing. Or drinking coffee.
I’m spending my first night away from this house, away from L & A tonight. This might be the last blog post I may write here for a while. I’m terrified. I’m scared things will be weird between us now. I’m scared I won’t be able to talk to them about things I previously have been able to. I am so much going to miss their company and their love and support and hugs and general greatness.
I’m staying with a lovely lady called C – then moving into my own place next February / March-ish. I don’t know what to say really. You might not understand how difficult this is – but if you understand how important this year has been in terms of my eating disorder recovery and how significant L & A have been in my recovery process, then perhaps you do.
So if you’re the praying sort, please pray. I know full well I can get through the next few days and weeks and months – but the point is that I’m not exactly sure how.
No other relevant things to say.
In approximately 4 weeks time, I’m moving out of this house. I’ve lived here with L & A and S since early February, and L & A (as I’ve mentioned before) have been my biggest support in terms of recovery from my eating disorder. I’ve had some tough love and a whole lotta love and I’m a bit scared I won’t be able to cope without it. Okay. I guess I will. But it will be hard, and I really don’t want to deal with hard things.
So I’m going to miss this boy, who has become like a “big little brother” to me:
And this lady who has kissed my forehead every night before bed, painted my nails, prayed with me, distracted me from my eating disordered brain on many occasions and given me so much of her time, energy and sanity:
And that lovely lady’s husband, who I don’t really have a picture of – but he’s tall and skinny and has no hair and loses his glasses a lot – I’ll miss him too.
And lastly, this dog. She sleeps on my bed, puts up with the constant cuddles I seem to give her and thinks I’m the best because I walk her every day:
I feel like I’m running out of time. I have 4 weeks to find somewhere to live. 4 weeks to find a job again. 4 weeks to feel like I can work again without feeling stressed about food and potentially have panic attacks. 4 weeks to feel like I can cope not having L & A’s seemingly endless support and love. I know it’s just another chapter in the book, and I’m certain God has this fantastic plan – but I’m not too great with change and this is one change that makes me feel deeply sad – and scared.
I went out for morning tea with my mother today, which is quite the rare occasion. Had Campos coffee which is my all time favourite (and I purchased some for the house! Delicious!) and split a piece of apple and cinnamon bread with Mum. On the menu it said they served it toasted and with butter. Back in the days, one of my biggest fears ever was butter / margarine. I wouldn’t touch the stuff – it made me feel physically ill. And it was such an eating disorded thing. I’ve started to overcome the fear, however, and now even butter things on my own! Margarine and Vegemite on toast for the win! But I generally still ask for no butter when I go out to a cafe, because I don’t like the taste all that much.
I asked Mum if she wanted butter and she told me “she didn’t need it.” So I thought I would take the initiative and lather my half of the bread in butter. It’s just butter. No big deal. And it actually tasted a hell of a lot better with it.
Still had my flat white on skim milk though. We’re working on it, okay?