Life With An Eating Disorder (2 years on)

Saturday 9 January 2016

If you've been following my blog and all my other forms of social media for a couple of years, you'll know that 2 years ago on the 9th January 2014 i was admitted into an eating disorder unit after my struggles with anorexia and bulimia. I thought i'd do this post and share with you all how i'm getting on 2 years later.


Well, firstly, i am no where near as physically ill as i was 2 years ago. I could barely walk, i was asleep all the time, and i could barely string a sentence together. I was in an ambulance every couple of days because i'd be collapsing or couldn't breathe properly. Life was not fun, it wasn't even a life to be honest, i was just existing. I'm sure you can see in the photo above that i wasn't well, i mean you can see my chest bones and how gaunt my face looks. I wasn't happy though. I remember taking this photo and thinking how i had to be skinnier. It's a constant battle in your head, it's horrible and i wouldn't wish it upon anybody.
Mentally i was all over the place at this time in my life. I didn't know whether i was coming or going to be honest. I constantly wanted my life to end because i was finding it so hard living with how fat i thought i was. There were times i would cut myself hoping that would somehow let the fat escape my body. An eating disorder seriously makes you do things that are just ridiculous. I felt like everyone was always lying to me and i remember even being certain there were calories in water and i'd throw that up. I was delusional.

(2 weeks before i was admitted)

As much as i hated spending 3 months of my life in the eating disorder unit, i can't deny that it did save my life. I was always one of those people, who never, ever thought i'd get admitted. I was sure i was in control and i wasn't going to let anyone take the control from me.

Life in the eating disorder unit

Weigh-ins were horrible. For the first 10 days there i had to be weighed everyday and have my blood taken. Standing there in your underwear when you are convinced you are the fattest person in the world is just soul destroying. I was on bed rest and wasn't allowed to walk anywhere, i had to be taken everywhere in a wheelchair, even into the toilet which was literally 2 feet from my bed. The food portions started off quite small, barely eating anything as they don't want you to get refeeding syndrome, which can kill you, but gradually they increase your portions and your on what seems like mammoth portions. 3 big meals a day, plus 3 snacks, and sometimes even dessert at lunch and dinner too. It can only be described as torture, though i can see now that it was all in my best interest. It felt like being back in school. Having to ask to do absolutely everything, having to be ready at certain times, being polite etc. We had group therapy constantly and for me, therapy doesn't work so i hated every minute. To be honest, all they are concerned with is getting your weight up, they're not really concerned with your mental state which is obviously the reason why you make yourself so ill, but as long as your weight is going up, they don't care. Well that's what it was like for me where i was.

(this is a photo of me just after being discharged!!!)

2 years later

So 2 years on. I still have an eating disorder i'm battling with my demons. Everyday is struggle, but i do not want to end up in an eating disorder unit ever again in my life. Physically i'm a lot stronger in myself (excluding all my other issues), i was able to play football again which was amazing for me as i had to give it up due to my issues with eating. Mentally i'm doing okay. Not bad, not great, just okay. If there is ever an argument or i get upset or something like that, i automatically go back to 'if i was skinnier this wouldn't be happening'. I think i use my control of food as a safety net, it's always there for me when things go wrong. I know that way of thinking isn't right, and i'm constantly trying to change it. I know to a lot of people this will sound stupid, but having my 2 amazing dogs has made it a lot easier. They work as great emotional support animals. I have amazing support from my family, my mum in particular. I can literally talk to my mum about anything, whenever i feel like i don't want to eat or that i want to eat everything, speaking to her always helps to calm me down.

I just want to say thank you to everyone for all the support throughout the years. Recovering is one of the hardest things i've ever had to do, but i will keep fighting.

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