The Struggle of Christmas

I wrote this article for my portfolio of university last year. Let me know what you think:

“Even being a recovered anorexic, Christmas is the time of year that I dread most. There is so much focus on food. Every year, I’ve tried to make an effort and considering five years ago, my Christmas dinner consisted of cheese, a few potatoes and some vegetables, I think I’ve done well. Yet still every Christmas day, my first thought is not of excitement of presents and spending the day with family, mine is terror. I’m scared of having to struggle through a huge amount of food and making room for pudding too.

“I first became aware of the amount of food I was eating six years ago. It was my first year at college and I felt completely out of my depth. I wasn’t one of the cleverest anymore as I had been at school. I’d never had a boyfriend and throughout my last two years at school one boy constantly called me ‘ugly’ and a ‘dog’ until I believed him completely. My friends were picking on me and I didn’t feel like I fit in anywhere.

“At first all I wanted was to lose a few pounds as I felt it would make my life better. But then anorexia became the one thing I was good at and the one thing I could control in my life. Losing weight wasn’t about being thin. It was my way to disappear. If I was invisible, nobody could pick on me.

“Being 5”11 and naturally thin, my family didn’t realise until my weight started to drop drastically. Yet strangely, I found it easier to skip food once my Mam knew, as she wouldn’t make me huge meals that I had to get rid of. In fact, I started to manage to go four days without food. Going to bed after eating nothing felt like such an achievement.

“Unfortunately being 17 at the time, it was hard to find help. The children’s specialised unit at Newcastle General Hospital only took me on as a patient because I had a dangerously low body mass index.

“Hearing that I could die in a matter of weeks was a shock to me. I hadn’t realised how serious it had become. I was told my brain had shrunk, my heart had started to eat itself and I was probably suffering from osteoporosis.

“Due to a lack of beds, I was made an outpatient. Although we need to improve services for sufferers, I am glad that I never had to endure being on a ward. The experience of being tube fed and being in an unnatural environment.

“I was kept at home under my Mam’s 24-hour supervision, except when she had to do an errand. I would always have what she called an “episode”, where anorexia would scream and cuss at me as no one was around to help me control her. The first time it happened my Mam was shocked as she hadn’t known about the evil, manipulative voice in my head which turned her daughter into a mischievous, lying, selfish monster.

“My first years of recovery were unsuccessful. I refused to accept I was anorexic and would either argue with the doctors or sit in silence when they tried to help me. Plus they stopped my whole life. I couldn’t go out, drive, go to college, go on holiday, nothing. I only put on a slight amount of weight; to the point the unit would threaten they would section me.

“When I was transferred to the adult unit at 18, I found I got on better because my therapist actually helped me with my thoughts, instead of just concentrating on my weight. When I started university though, I had a relapse because I wasn’t used to eating lunch on my own. I was told if I didn’t start making an effort with my weight, I would be discharged and sent to a normal counsellor and I would never recover from anorexia. It’s hard to explain but something clicked. I didn’t want to be an anorexic forever, living this desperately lonely life.

“It also helped that I was at university. Even though college and doctors stated point blank I wouldn’t get there. I’d also gotten a bar job, where I met people my own age, got invited out and became more confident. Putting myself out into the world and taking a chance has reminded me what I want to achieve. Last year I travelled to New Zealand on my own and had the BEST time ever! Recovery should be about experiencing life, not being punished. It’s about finding out who you are, making new friends, laughter, passing your driving test. Falling in love, going to dance class to use your body for a purpose and realising the world isn’t a scary place and perfection does not exist.

“I’m still on my long journey of recovery and I doubt I will ever be able to hold my hand up and say “ I like the person I am” but I do feel slightly happier.
“So this year I’m going to try my hardest at Christmas and make my family smile. Plus after six years of avoiding it, I’ve started to eat chocolate again so maybe I’ll enjoy my advent calendar too!”