Doing hard things...

I've just finished a 20 day online Bible study called 'I do hard things', and it's been so helpful for me. It covers different aspects of how to protect yourself, honour God and learn the most that you can while dealing with challenges in your life. Day 2 and Day 13 were both genuinely life-altering for me and one of the messages that spoke to me most is this:

"If you get instantaneously rescued from the pit, you will still be afraid of the pain BUT if we are led to climb out of the pit then the fear no longer holds us bound" 

Wow. All those times I've cried out and begged God to just deliver me and pick me up out of my mess and wondered why He didn't seem to care and having explored these purposes more, I have a new level of understanding about God's will in suffering. I'm never going to understand God's will aside from on a flawed, human level, but I feel like this study has taken me deeper and I'm so thankful.

Christmas was rough; quite complicated with my parents' divorce, but as ever I was SO reminded of the graciousness of God and His timing: I don't know that I would have coped with processing the breakdown of my family unit on top of the ordeal that Christmas with anorexia can become... This was the first Christmas in a long time that food wasn't a struggle for me, and the awareness of timings meaning that I could just about cope meant that I could recognise God saying constantly: "I am in this". What an encouragement...

I've been on psychiatry rotation for the last 3 weeks and I LOVE it. I'm placed on a women's inpatient ward in the local psychiatric hospital and it's very different from other hospital environments:

-the ward rounds: instead of awkwardly shuffling behind 10 higher grade doctors from bed to bed, not able to actually hear what's going on and generally getting in the way, we all sit around a table in a conference room and the patients come to us! Most of the ward reviews I've been to have just been a consultant, a reg and a junior doctor, a nurse and me; we discuss the patients before calling them in to talk to them. (there are even drinks and biscuits available! amazing!)

- treatment is so much more personalised. I guess it has to be, because of the nature of the illnesses, but we have long discussions about medication changes, taking the patients' opinions into account and explaining details to them in great detail.

-patients are often unsure whether to trust the professionals: totally understandably. Personally and professionally, I've experienced a lot of the negative side of psychiatric treatment, but it has been interesting to be on the other side: where I see doctors who genuinely care work incredibly hard to manage patients in what are so often very logistically difficult situations.

-when a patient allows you into their inner world, it's the hugest privilege. I feel like, as a clinician in psychiatry, you are much more involved in your patients' treatment than in other areas of medicine. The interactions have a massive impact in a person's health and doctors' human qualities like patience, compassion and a gentle manner are as crucial as any drug or therapy.

I really REALLY love psych. Even more than I thought I would...I think I've found my future specialty!

I'm also enjoying being more in control of my timetable - which makes life a lot easier in terms of working out when to do my paid work (note summarising at a GP) and also leaves a little more opportunity for spontaneous lunch dates and much-needed lie ins!

I'm trying to be braver with small group and it has definitely paid off - deepening relationships and fostering vulnerability and prayer in group situations is playing a big part in my life at the moment. I'm so thankful. 

Also for the babies who I just completely adore and whose curiousity and excitement and untamed love make my heart happy. Ellie has taken to snuggling with me in bed in the mornings and reminding me in a singsong voice of my need for breakfast. She now only agrees to wear 'princess dresses' so pink frills are the norm (I do feel partially responsible for this dress obsession!). Iyla is into EVERYTHING: nothing is safe from her beautiful, sticky little reach.

This week we got the results of the first module of this year (an emergency life support and critical care course) and I got a distinction! Such a confidence boost that I'm beginning to excel now that I'm well and my course is becoming more about practical management of treatment as opposed to dry lecture facts!

Obs, gynae and roast gammon

I'm in my fourth week of obs and gynae rotation, and I've already learned SO much. It's a huge learning curve to be in the hospital, pretty much left to our own devices and being in the thick of things, completely self-directed. I love the flexibility of being able to stay longer when I'm feeling enthused, and jiggle things around so I can fit more into my life, but the bit I'm finding more difficult  is being brave and assertive in approaching doctors/other health professionals to ask them to help me learn (by assigning me to a patient/ letting me follow them etc). My internal monologue can so easily backslide into how little I deserve their time/how much they'll hate me for irritating them/why am I even here?! clearly I'm not worthy of studying medicine lalala..., but pushing through and doing it anyway is the best antidote to the thoughts...it's coming more and more naturally and I'm still yet to hide in a supply cupboard to cry, which I would have thought would be inevitable at some point in the first month!

I have come SO far. I've dealt with being shouted out by a consultant, mocked by a surgeon and with standing my ground when other medical students (some of the 5th years are on the same rotation to us at the moment which can make space difficult!) have tried to push me out of clinics I've been timetabled to attend. I've been brave with trying to be authentic with the other students I've been placed with. I'm getting much better at maintaining boundaries, particularly with being logical about other people's emotions. I feel what the people around me are feeling so intensely that it can be overwhelming in stressful situations, but I'm learning to separate myself from their frustration which means I can then see that they aren't angry with me. I care less what 'they' think. Yes, I'm still a HUGE people pleaser, but if I perceive someone not liking me doesn't devastate me in the way that it would have done in the past...




I'm enjoying my time being free from the hospital too, in this beautiful city, with beautiful people... I love that I can invest in my life now - not 'invest in recovery' or 'work on recovery' but just feed into the aspects of my life that I love to move forward. I'm having to be careful about not missing meals with how busy I am, and have struggled a bit with nausea around meals (potentially anxiety but I don't feel like it is!), but anorexia continues to take up less and less of my head and my heart.

Ellie is cuddlier than ever, which I LOVE and Iyla is growing more and more into her own person. We still do 'family day' most Saturdays and it's so special. This Saturday we went swimming then for carvery with Tris' parents, and I was fully present. Potentially the biggest joy of recovery remains in just being present. Like swimming in a bikini then eating a ridiculous amount of roast and ice cream, and still being present and myself and not have the time ruined by guilt.







I wonder if I'll ever be okay with not being able to save people... I'm really working on it; I understand the theology behind it and on a spiritual level but emotionally, it just slays me every time: when someone I love is hurting a huge amount, and I can't fix it. Funnily, I happened to do a personality test recently and it came out SO accurate for me being an INFJ. It made me feel less like I'm flawed, and more accepting of the way I intrinsically am.

 So thankful for these learning experiences; the painful but amazing stretching and growing...


P.S I got my big mac lovin' back...

Summer 2014

As of Monday, Summer has finished: it'll be the beginning of 3rd year. It's gone quickly but, equally, I've crammed so much into it that it seems to have been a very productive time. I've had some lovely holidays; caught up with people; celebrated new marriages and new babies; faced new challenges; driven a LOT of miles and learned some more about myself in the meantime...

Last weekend, I was in York to celebrate Wayne and Ruth getting married. It was a lovely day although a little strange in that it was exactly a year since I was last in York for a wedding (and since I saw many of my Northern friends!) and in the same church. Lots of memories of a not-very-nice weekend that time due to being so ill at the time but, this year, things were very different. It was difficult at times but so joyful and I was so present. I stayed dancing until the early hours and enjoyed the celebrations so much.

On Friday, we move into our new house which is closer to the hospital for next year (3rd year starts tomorrow!) and a really nice layout. A new chapter in my story with my Brightonian family, and moving to a new location all together is significant to me too - our house; not theirs with me as a lodger (although they've always made sure I don't feel that way). I'm so excited about decorating my room!

 Ellie and Iyla are as precious as ever. Ellie started nursery this week and was incredibly brave: even on her first day, she was joining in with everything and encouraging the shyer children (who have been at the nursery for months!) to play with her as well. I'm so proud of her kindness, courage, gentleness and boundless energy and enthusiam! She's recognised how much I like cuddles lately - either instructing everyone to 'duddle Anna' or getting me to lie with my head on her tummy and stroking my hair. Iyla is 6 months old now: learning to sit up and starting to be weaned. Her new pterodactyl noise is both hilarious and a little scary but her giggle is just completely beautiful. I love these little girls so much!




















A couple of weeks ago, upon going home to see my parents, I was hit with the bombshell that they are divorcing, and it's all a little messy and upsetting. The divorce itself I can deal with, with a bit of getting used to and some tears over the loss of our house with all its memories etc, but the back story is a lot harder to reconcile. I'm leaning into God's grace; trying to balance out my reliance on God and my reliance on people...having only just properly started to put my trust in people as opposed to weight and numbers and performance, being so suddenly and dramatically reminded that people are unpredictable and imperfect is difficult. I am SO thankful for my firm foundation; my faithful, pursuing, passionate Jesus. A few wobbly days of restricting and hurting myself; a little too much alcohol and a couple of cigarettes; some reckless shoe shopping and lots of tears later I'm feeling more sensible. I want my Jesus; nothing else will do. No other comfort compares to even a fraction of how it is to be close to Him...

new Summering

After a bit of a whirlwind couple of months, I'm finally finding time to blog again. Exams are done, Summer has begun and I'm excited to spend some time with the people around me, able to be fully present.

Year 2, Term 3

I finished exams on 20th June and, although this KT was flipping horrible, everyone found the questions weird and hard, and I felt prepared. Hopefully, I'll have done okay: if I managed to pass this term last year with how horrendously that exam went, I should be fine with this one! The end of term was a big celebration because it marked the end of phase 1 for us: hopefully, no more lectures, dissection or being based at the med school because, as of September, I'll be a 3rd year so based at the hospital instead!

My OSCE was less scary than last year's because I knew more what to expect, but more scary as the level expected was much higher and there were additional examinations (neurological and GALS) to learn, I had plenty of assistance preparing though, with the help of Ellie:

^
Cutie pie LOVED me doing practice on her, particularly 'binski!' (the babinski reflex) and 'checking her tummy' (abdominal examinations). Soon she wanted to try herself, so noone was safe from being examined. Her excitement was so sweet and relaxed me a little - it helped to put OSCE prep in perspective. 



These little girls continue to bring me SUCH joy every day. Living with them and their wonderful parents has totally changed the way I see things. I'm part of their family and that's so special. Having such security is so helpful for me, and I feel accepted and enough. It's especially helpful if I'm having a hard day to come back to hugs and people who I know are going to support me without judgement. I am so blessed.

Redemption

On my 21st birthday (25th June) I graduated from a course called "Redemption" that I'd done with my small group at church. When I first started it (our intensive weekend was at the end of April), I was a little unsure as being vulnerable and honest in group settings is definitely not one of my strengths! I find it hard to talk in a group even about banal things so sharing my life story and being completely honest in my responses to questions about it was a terrifying prospect...

However, the course has changed me so much. It's been amazing. To be able to share my deepest shame and struggles with 7 other women and find that they don't think any less of me - in fact, they respect me more- has been incredibly freeing. I've found new depth of relationships in my small group; discovered that so many people have the same thoughts I do but it's just not talked about and learned SO much about things I thought I already knew! My view of repentance has completely changed - what I thought was just saying a quick 'sorry' (and therefore never quite understood the significance of) I now know to be far more active - turning away from the mistakes in a practical sense; leaning into God instead...

It's also helped me to see God in a far more balanced way and understand how I fit in as part of His greater story: not that He dips in and out of my little life but that He is a mighty, passionate God who pursues my heart and whose beautiful purposes I am caught up in as I stumble along. When I shrink back, that hurts God as well as me. When I hurt myself in whatever way; when I run to an idol to numb my pain instead of into His arms, that hurts Him because He loves me. I can't just punish myself and expect the consequences to occur in a vacuum. It's simply not about me - but not in a horrible sense, in an incredibly freeing, beautiful, tender sense...

I celebrated a lovely 21st birthday with a picnic with some of my closest Brightonian friends; chocolate fondue at Chockywockydoodah's and my redemption celebration. Completing redemption on my 21st was incredibly special: an ending and a beginning. I'm 21 now, and anorexia is behind me. I'm never, ever going back. I feel like redemption has helped me understand myself better and, alongside the counselling I've been having in the last few months, has equipped me to be able to express myself and my emotions in healthy ways. Obviously I'm still working on it all, but the progress I've made in the last 9 months is more than I ever EVER could have hoped for.

I even bought a new bikini on my 21st, with no tears or panic. Yes it'll take courage to actually wear it, but I love it and I'm proud of myself!

This afternoon, I head to Anglesey to stay with Maddy and see Shereen which will be so lovely. I can't wait for some beach and catch up times; hopefully the weather will be conducive to bonfires and pimms! I'm so determined to make/allow this Summer to be beautiful; to bless other people and invest in my relationships. To spend time soaking in God's presence and fill myself up again. What a change from last year, and how thankful I am...

Spring beginnings

This week, I'm in Berlin for the first holiday I've had with my parents since the trip before I moved to uni. There have been challenges, as ever: I'm quite fiercely independent (not the most attractive of traits, and one I'm trying to soften at the moment...), and I've built up some more patience constantly being with my parents. We've had a few moments of frustration when I've felt overprotected and got impatient but, as the week's gone on, I've let my guard down and relaxed into my dad's jokes and cafe lunches with my mum... I set out on this holiday hoping to invest time and love in my parents, who I feel I've neglected quite a bit since I got ill, and think the last couple of days in particular when I've spent time with them separately have been such a good opportunity to do that.

I'm looking forward to being back in Warrington and Brighton, where things have been moving quickly in the last few weeks as well. In my Brighton home, Iyla is home and we're all adjusting to her presence.

One of the last mornings before I drove up to my parents' house, the rest of the family went to the park just after one of her feeds to give Ellie some special Mummy-and-Daddy-time, and I looked after her for a couple of hours. She was more alert than she'd ever really been with me before, and holding her and talking to her as I did my quiet time was incredibly precious. I'm so thankful for this family and how they treat me as one of their own.

I've changed churches in the last month too: lots of change, but it's a decision I'm proud of. I'd come to realise that, actually, church wasn't really church for me for the last several months but instead an opportunity to serve in the baby room and then hide from community and not make services myself and be too scared to try new things. I LOVE to serve; I love the baby room: the beautiful little ones and their lovely parents; the people I serve alongside; drinking coffee and rocking sleepy infants, and the time I spent there was always so precious and the highlight of my week. I'm sure I was meant to be there for a time, and have learned and grown through it, but it doesn't glorify God to hide away from Him: church then is not too different to a nursery for me. I would go to the morning, serve at both services and feel like I'd 'done church' for that week - but actually I'd not engaged with a community outside of the baby room or been challenged in my faith. I'm good with babies, it boosts my confidence and I love them so it makes me feel good but it's not Jesus and that's the reason I should be going to church. Despite my recognition of that truth and attempt to make changes since then, I've felt increasingly sure that I needed to move churches. This has been hard: I like to stay loyal to a church; I don't like to rock the boat; but so many things fell into place at the same time and the more I prayed about it, the more sure I felt about leaving. Sad, but right.

I've moved to a smaller church, part of the Newfrontiers family, and am settling in well. On my second Sunday, after meeting with the site leader for coffee during the week, he called me unexpectedly to ask if I would lead worship at the weekly pre-service prayer meeting. I was very surprised because I'd only briefly talked about worship when we chatted (he'd done some background research by talking to mutual friends!), but agreed and the style was perfect for the way I love to worship: informal, stripped back, just a guitar and voice and with people praying out loud in between songs and repeating sections. I felt instantly so at home - God is so good....

One of my Lent goals this year has been to get dressed within 5 minutes every morning. It sounds simple, but one of the most daily lingering eating disorder struggles has been linked with adjusting to my healthy body: freaking out while getting dressed often; deciding I'm too fat for all my clothes; changing and rejecting all my outfits and getting more and more upset. So since the start of Lent, I've been setting a timer on my phone for 5 minutes and my choice has to be on and complete by the time it goes off. It's getting easier: today I even tried on dresses in an H&M changing room with no tears and no real distress.

 It wouldn't be real of me to not mention that there have been other struggles in the last few weeks. In leaving behind the numbing, softening aspect that accompanied my eating disorder,  I've fallen prey to a couple of other negative coping mechanisms properly for the first time: an afternoon where I tried to numb out by drinking more than a bottle of wine; some scratching and hurting myself in moments of being overwhelmed. Torn between the 'better the devil you know' and the fact that 'it's easier to redirect a moving target', I'm desperately now trying to pursue the actual answer to the things I feel I can't cope with:

 I'm getting closer and closer day by day. Quiet times are getting deeper and more tender; less like something I have to remind myself to do and more something I'm excited for. I'm so thankful for the things I'm constantly learning; despite the struggles along the way. I am more assured of God's goodness than ever...

seasons of change

 I've taken potentially my longest ever break from blogging...and it's been rather glorious. Life now is so different to the way it used to be: I honestly think I'm 'more recovered' than I've ever been. Generally, I can cry when people hurt me instead of damaging myself; I spend quality time with God every day; I actually tolerated my body when I got dressed this morning!

I'm being increasingly vulnerable with the people around me; enjoying med school and getting more excited about the future.

 

 My house still brings me such joy. This beautiful little girl is such a blessing to me every day; when she steals some of my toast every breakfast time and wants to sit on my lap when she's having her nap time bottle. When she belly laughs if I throw her in the air and makes me sing 'sleepy bunnies' over and over...she makes my heart happy.

 

Iyla Jane Rebekah was born 5 weeks early in the early hours of Monday morning... Waking Ellie up with the news that she's a big sister was incredibly special; a moment I'll treasure always. Tonight, I met little Iyla for the first time. She is so beautiful I could barely breathe...can't wait to have her home with us all.

 

 I decided while I was there that I think neonatology might be the career for me. I'm feeling so at peace with where I'm meant to be right now. Despite still doubting myself and my abilities in every sense, I feel like there's a real purpose for my studying medicine and my ridiculous love for babies. I'm excited to see what happens; although nervous. Competitive medical specialities make me want to run for the hills; I just feel that I'll never measure up.

Baby, baby steps are the only way in which to do this - I'm learning that more and more. I had my KT this morning for the term and I think it went fine... It's incredible that for the first ever term at med school, I've got through a whole term without wasting all my time losing weight and giving up on my degree (and life in general!) for the sake of such an empty goal..

I feel increasingly present in my life. It's special.

I'm getting back my passion for leading worship. I'm feeling more and more capable of facing up to real life (although still very much inclined to use avoidance when things get difficult). God is so good.

 

I'm feeling lots more changes coming soon...moving into a new season of growth and vulnerability. Church related; life related; lots of changes are going to challenge me. I'm thankful for Him who is constant through it all; who pushes us towards growth and away from comfort - ultimately for our good and for His glory. Excited for the next steps...

two Christmas trees...

Last night, we decorated my Christmas tree.My mum wanted to take a photo of me putting the angel on the top, and my immediate internal reaction was that I definitely didn't want photographic documentation of how 'healthy/well [fat]' I now am again... Then I reminded myself that it wasn't about that - it was about me being with my family, decorating the Christmas tree: I let her take it. Then immediately compared it to last year's similar picture; picked myself apart and did a lot of thinking while lying on my bed with a huge cup of tea...

As I look back across this year of growth – both literal and figurative – it hasn’t been linear. It has been messy and painful; with wobbles and backslides and momentarily ending up somehow worse than when I started at points of deepest despair. It has forced me to be real with my imperfection and vulnerability and led me to discover a fragile new ability to be more honest about how I feel.

Even now, I know I’m not recovered because I see the year in terms of numbers and weight and calories. January-when-I-was-skinny-and-miserable and May-when-I-was-heavier-but-happier and then the dreaded August-and-September-when-being-tiny-again-took-me-to-rock-bottom… In my mind, my weight and my life are so intertwined – however much I dig to the logical part of my mind and convince myself that my body is just the thing I live from and that its size is irrelevant, it still colours my days and my perception of myself.

My Christmas holidays last year are fuzzy now, but the general memories are of my daily choices being completely dictated by myfitnesspal’s calorie count and sitting parked on random streets in my cold, dark car in order to avoid meals (having conveniently made plans for 6:30pm to fit with my lies and avoidance). Of sitting against the radiator in all my clothes and still shivering;  avoiding seeing friends who would pull me up on my weight loss and sipping herbal tea that I didn’t even like because ‘normal tea has too many calories because of the (skimmed) milk’. I may now gaze a little longingly at pictures of my smaller legs and teeny waist from those weeks, but I know passionately that I wasn’t present in my life last Christmas: I might have been thin, but I was too caught up in my illness to properly be me; to love the people I love and celebrate life and opportunities.

I am incredibly stubborn. This has, in the past, been hijacked by my eating disorder: ‘I will get to this weight by this date. I will not eat more than X calories per day.’; but it is also an important tool in terms of positive actions. If I decide I’m going to recover, I’m going to make damn sure that I recover. I’m better at that side: the gritty, determined, painful slog of meal and snack and milk to top up calories and keeping away from bathrooms and locking up the trainers and scales. The aspect of recovery that remains a mystery to me still is the ‘self compassion’ bit: the way in which therapists want me to think in order to recover – not just by brute force with myself, but through loving my body and loving myself and deciding that I’m just as worthy of food and happiness as everyone else and oh  look how beautiful I am at a healthy weight. I’m under no illusion that my cynicism isn’t blindingly obvious in that sentence. Like almost everyone I’ve ever met with an eating disorder, I see myself as the exception. I wholeheartedly advocate for others’ worth and beauty, but I’m somehow 'different'. I force myself to eat and gain weight but hate myself even more when I'm alone and undistracted; I nearly cry every morning while getting dressed because I feel so disgusting. I have a long way to go; but I'm more determined than ever to continue to make progress. 

This Christmas season, I've already enjoyed (yes, enjoyed: not tolerated or survived or panicked through, but enjoyed) two Christmas dinners with two different sets of friends who are more like family. I've had multiple glasses of mulled wine without freaking out about the calories. I might be bigger than last year, but already I'm more present. I choose presence in my own life over being thin any day... 

I am reminded of the quote I used at the end of the Christmas message I gave last year at December's IMPACT! event:

 "God loves us enough to meet us exactly as we are; but too much to leave us that way"

This year hasn't been easy, by any means, but it is certainly full of evidence of this faithfulness shown by my loving, powerful God. I am so blessed.