one week

Today marks a week of change. A week since I slightly hopelessly (admittedly, I doubted myself completely) wrote out my new commitment to really genuinely try not to use ED behaviours and actually give myself a chance to move forward. And I, a cynic when it comes to myself relating to these situations, am amazed to see myself typing this: I cannot believe the vastness of the differences that have occurred over the course of a week!

• I can get out of bed in the mornings again - don't have to roll onto the floor and crawl up; I actually wake up feeling like the sleep has refreshed me slightly.
• mornings aren't 4:30am wake ups - I've been sleeping until 6am most days this week.
• this whole 'training to be a doctor' thing is actually back on my radar - GP placement on Tuesday reminded me that I am capable; I am competent and I have the capacity to really help people in the future with this path.
• my singing voice has power and strength again
• I can worship without feeling like a hypocrite
• I can drink tea and actually enjoy it, instead of downing it to fill myself up
• I'm not scared to see the people I love (most of the time)
• I had my first week back at football last night,  and I remembered how much I love it
• I'm leading worship at the uni CU meeting on Monday night - and I'm excited
•  I actually feel like I want to live again

This has shown me that I am far less helpless than I thought; nothing has changed with my situation in terms of professional help etc, but I made a decision and followed it through by God's grace, and all this has changed. I'm proud of myself; that's hard to say because there's still a huge part of me that's screaming 'noo, you were doing so well, why are you letting the control go, you're going to be fat etc etc' but that's eating disordered lies. That isn't Anna and that certainly isn't God, and those - particularly the latter - are who I want in control of my life.

As I journalled yesterday 'this is the bit of recovery that's hard and real. Not the breakthroughs and the dramatic progress moments, but waking up each morning and feeling huge and eating breakfast through the panic and sitting with the feelings in tears. Crouching alone on your bed in the dark and desperately convincing yourself that this is right when it just feels wrong. It's easier choosing recovery once but it has to be chosen every second of every minute of every day and that's painful and exhausting. It takes everything you have and more because the energy does run out and you give everything to find it's not quite enough. But that's why recovery isn't something that can be done solo. That's why I fight against pride and overindependence and say 'Lord please, I need Your strength more than ever'. That's why, this morning, I choose to lift my eyes.'

Of course, this is very much still the beginning. I'm still underweight and I'm still not eating enough or enough variety and I can see disordered behaviours all around. I'm scared and I know I will need huge amounts of help to keep moving forward - but a beginning is enough. This time, I'm determined to use last week's rock bottom as my 'enough is enough' - to hand over my ashes and let it get messy.

'There is nothing that God cannot turn around to glorify His name - nothing' 

Today, I'm clinging to that truth. 

new term; new commitment?

It's safe to say that my first week back at uni was something of a disaster...predictable by most people around me - and even me - I didn't cope so well with going back. The Monday started off horrendously when I tried to increase my breakfast and completely panicked/spent a couple of hours in tears then pulled it together to go to uni only to have the most horrible day of beyond confusing lectures and friendship dramas and lots of stress. Then I was up all night and missed Tuesday; asked fairly desperately for help from the ED clinic after group on Wednesday only to hear the same story that this elusive new key worker will apparently call me that week (surprise surprise, they didn't) and then missed my timetabled Wednesday as well. Wednesday was an afternoon of complete hopelessness and considering giving up completely and Thursday was the resulting emergency GP appt, where I agreed to start medication to see if that helped and was given numbers to call. Finally made it in on Friday to some pointless lectures and a tutorial that I didn't understand, having missed the previous lectures and the dissection session for the week, and thus ended the first week of year 2, term 1. It probably could have gone better...

On Saturday morning I decided it was time to make a new agreement. Clearly, this relapse thing isn't making me feel better. Clearly the voice that says 'just a couple more kg, then you're allowed to properly recover again' is complete lies and it's just making things spiral; it's making me lose everything and ultimately it could ruin my whole life if I let it. So I wrote out a commitment - to myself and God. I prayed over it and stuck it on my window, behind the curtain so it's subtle but I see it every morning when I open the curtain.

I'm proud to say that I've stuck to this agreement ever since. Despite much opposition: particularly on Monday when I had a very dramatic situation with a parked car's handbrake failing, causing it to crash into mine and stay on top of it until I managed to do some manouvering with bricks with the help of a nice garage man. And my bank card breaking at the worst possible time and other everyday mishaps that would usually cause me to fall into cycles of blame and guilt and self punishment using food (or lack thereof) and exercise.

 Despite the messiness and struggles, there has clearly been a lot of 'on my side' activity going on as well: even in the worst of last week, I had the most lovely date night. I can hardly believe that, on potentially the most hopeless day I’d ever experienced, I spent the evening falling about laughing at pictures of dogs that looked like people we knew, and proving my strength by doing high school gymnastics lifts on Jacob. I’m so thankful for this man and how he loves me – how he cries with me yet makes me cry with laughter and brings out my silly side. He later told me that he’d prayed for the sanctuary of this date night – to be a place away from everything else that was going on – and wow, did it deliver.

I'm thankful for friends who hop in my car with cups of tea and moments of hilarity in dissection with Ellie when we mishear an anatomy demonstrator and genuinely think he's 'going to get the dog' (just a note, this turned out to be door...apparently pets and cadavers are combination that is generally frowned upon...). I'm thankful for snuggling Naomi's pets when I visit her house; for a sweet pea scented candle; for care packages of tea and a cuddly snake from Shereen and the fact that I'm going to see Maddy the weekend after next. For study sessions on the kitchen table with my lovely housemates, when we drink tea and guiltily share moments of being distracted by our phones.

My new morning routine of 'breakfasting with God' has also helped the days start better. Combined with actually concentrating in lectures (with a little help from more brain fuel and a bit of hope) and realising that this term's neuroscience and behaviour topic really fascinates me, this week is going better so far. At my appt this morning, I was blind weighed for the first time ever (I'm always too curious even though I know it's ALWAYS unhelpful for me to see) and I probably gained from the last few days. But actually, I gained more than weight - I gained knowledge and a little bit of control over my own life back. I feel huge and disgusting and ambivalent and out of control and completely and utterly terrified, but of course I do. Of course I will. That's what recovery is all about.

I'm trusting, as ever, in the One who always was in control. Who forsaw this mess even before I did and constantly surrounds me. I'm trying to speak His name into the situations I face with the faith that He genuinely can change them...but also combine that with the knowledge that I have to fight with all that I have and do my bit too...

On which note, I should do my bit towards actually moving on with my degree by writing up some lecture notes. Until next time xxxxx