Courage is a Necessity

Wise words were vocalized to me today by a dear friend of mine here at the station, who is leaving tomorrow; that - 

Having courage does not mean that we are unafraid. Having courage and showing courage mean that we are able to face our fears. We are able to say: I have fallen but I will get up and fight.

I don't know why, but these words have stuck with me all day today. I can't seem to be able to get them out of my train of thought, probably for the better.

This saying goes to show that simply by having courage, it does not necessarily equate to always being optimistic, positive, bright - that whole end of the emotional spectrum. It highlights the fact that courage is something that enables us to keep going, regardless of if we are having a good or a bad day. For me, courage symbolizes that fighting spirit that is necessary in battling one's inner demons.

Like today, for example, didn't go as smoothly as I had hoped. My therapy sessions in the morning were all cancelled so I had nothing to do. I was faced with four dreaded hours of nothingness here at the station. Thankfully I was able to thoroughly enjoy the book that I am currently devouring from beginning to end and the feelings of uneasiness that were plaguing me were diminished. Another roadblock that occurred to me today was the fact that the head doctor had determined that all supplement drinks have to be taken in front of the helpers and then you have to sit with them for thirty minutes afterwards. I am currently the only one taking three supplement drinks a day, or any for that matter, even though there is other anorexic people here. Now imagine how hard it is to sit there for 1.5 hours in total without having anything to do - I'm simply glared at by the helpers, being carefully observed. Finally, the fact that so many people are leaving the station tomorrow while I remain stuck here hit me hard today as well. So this list goes to show that today has not been my day. But did that stop me from fighting, from having the courage to persevere and keep going? NO. 

I followed my meal plan, drank my supplement drinks, dealt with the anxiety and uneasiness and battled those thoughts. That's right.

Italian, Anyone?

For the last 1.5 years, I have not ordered a proper meal at a restaurant.

For the last 1.5 years, I have always stuck to ordering soups or the lowest calorie options when dining out.

For the last 1.5 years, I have dreaded restaurants - all the people and social stress, the overwhelming array of meals and trying to decipher which one is safest to consume.

For the last 1.5 years, I have not been myself when being at a restaurant as my thoughts simply revolved solely around the meal.

All that changed tonight.

I went to dinner being myself for the first time in god knows how long. I met up with two of my best friends at 6 pm at my favorite restaurant in Vienna, which coincidentally, is an Italian restaurant that belongs to my great cousin. The food there is to die for and I had always loved going there; so I thought, why not start there? And so it was.

Looking at the menu, I instantly knew I wanted a pizza. I ordered a pizza funghi and didn't have second thoughts. I knew there'd be a lot of cheese on it and that the pizza would be made from white flour and not whole wheat flour, but did that stop me from eating the whole lot (except for the crust, because I've never been a fan of that)? No. That's right, I ate the entire pizza.

While elegantly dining out and enjoying our food, I did not second guess myself at all. I held normal, everyday conversations with my friends and there was no time for negative thoughts.  It was amazing; the whole experience.

And to finish off this amazing blog post, might I just say that the pizza was delicious and exceeded my expectations. I'm so proud of what I've achieved today.

Station Lockdown

I'd be lying to myself if I were to say that today was a good day. On the contrary, it was anything but. It might have started out great - I had an excellent night of sleep, ate my favorite breakfast and finished my acryllic piece in ergotherapy - but there's an end to my exuberance, and that came with the doctor's round.

I lost a teensy amount of weight from Monday until today, something that seems insignificant to me as it is such a small number, that I received the worst news to date. For today, I was on house lockdown you can say, as I am not allowed to leave the station at all for whatever reason. That did not play well with me at all. I had plans for today, for tomorrow; and all those got shattered because of that stupid little number. Hearing the news for me was horrendous; I felt like a little child does when it finds out that Santa Claus doesn't exist - completely shattered and full of anger at the world.

That miniscule amount of weight that I had lost can be influenced by so many things - my bowel movement, the cold I had gotten and the extra calories the body now requires to heal that aspect, etc. In any case, it is something that I have no control over and just need to accept. Rationally, I know that the doctor's are only looking out for me; trying to do what's best for my recovery and general wellbeing. It's just hard to embrace the news as it is such a drastic constraint in regards to what I had planned for the following days.

Thankfully my mom was here tonight to cheer me up and reassure me that this is just another minor speed bump on my journey through recovery and won't be significant in the long run. Simply having her here beside me instantly brightens my mood and her advice and knowledge is something I cherish and really take to heart.

I genuinely hope that tomorrow is a day where I feel more stable and am in a healthier state mentally.

Benefits of Ergotherapy

Ergotherapy is the treatment of disease, in my case anorexia nervosa, by physical work and recreation. It is therapeutic physical training in a sense that you do something creative. The aim of ergotherapy is to help people design their everyday life and to increase the quality of their life by finding coping mechanisms and ways to deal with one's struggles and problems.

Here in the hospital, I have ergotherapy for 1.5 hours every Monday through Thursday. The amount of options one has to be creative is unimaginable; that's how much there is. There is always something new to try and something to lay one's hands on. There is weaving, knitting, felting, drawing, painting, clay work, creating braided baskets and silk scarves, book binding, etc. Like I said, the choices are endless.

I have already created silk scarves, two woven pieces, a clay bowl for the new kitchen, and this acryllic trial piece below - that I finished today. I am looking forward to tomorrow's session as I started on my acryllic canvas piece and am continuing with it tomorrow.

My acryllic paint trial

Right now, ergotherapy is my favorite therapy session as it allows me to be creative and is a good outlet for me in regards to my thoughts and negative rituals or behaviors that still surface from time to time. Whenever I am down, I focus on the task at hand and start to enjoy myself and what I am doing; completely putting me off my negative thoughts. That's why I am in love with ergotherapy. That and the fact that it allows me to be even more creative.

Gaining Independence

Although I notified the doctor's yesterday during their visit that I would not be going on night-leave, I had the option today as a letter was prepared for me to allow me to go on leave as well as all my medication, including my caloric drink supplements.

I told the nurses this morning that I would not be going on night-leave, but they gave me all my meds and the supplement drinks anyway and said that I was fully responsible regarding my health both today and tomorrow.

It was up to me to turn up to the main meals, that I said I would eat here at the station as well as take my medication at the appropriate times while also making sure that I would take my three supplement drinks. Everything is up to me over the weekend although I am not going on night-leave.

Although I was gone in the afternoon with my mom and my best friend, visiting a 'Christkindlmarkt' to soak up some holiday spirit, I managed to drink my supplement drink in public; amongst other people. It's a huge fear of mine, being judged by others, and being able to simply consume my drink amongst a crowd was remarkable. It was so hard to overcome this irrational fear, and I was shaking throughout the process as I was so taken by the people around me. But I managed to drink everything, and that's what counts.

I'm so proud of myself today, of managing everything by myself. I enjoyed today so far. I'm learning how to become independent again - in small steps.

Good News!

I awaited today so anxiously since Monday. This morning, upon waking up, I was tense all over because of what lay ahead - the weigh-in that would determine everything (at least that's what it felt like). Weigh-ins are always Monday, Wednesday and Friday - which are, coincidentally, the days I dread the most. Seeing that number on the scale go either up, down or stay the same is always a terrifying process. I never know how to react.

But this time, this time I was really hoping that I had gained enough from Monday so that I could leave the station by myself again and walk around the premises without accompaniment.

Although I gained weight over the weekend, the doctor's believed that it was still for the best to have me on lockdown at the station if I wasn't with someone else. They promised me that if I gained x grams by Wednesday, that that would change. So since Monday, thoughts regarding today's weigh-in were circulating in my brain non-stop; non-stop I tell you. After every meal, I thought to myself: were those enough calories to help me reach my goal? 

I'm currently incapable of describing just how tense I've been feeling these past two days.

So anyway, stepping onto the scale this morning was different than the previous times. Carefully placing first my right, and then my left foot onto the scale, I waited. And waited. Waited for what seemed like hours, eons even. Then, the number appeared and a huge sense of relief spread all over my body. I was able to feel again. I gained enough.

For now, it feels like I have a sense of freedom back; that I'm not tied down to the station or other people anymore. I have a bit of breathing space again. And I love that.

Hopefully the setback last week won't hinder my recovery any further. It's all upwards from here.

Wrong Meal - Don't Care

Tonight was a day like any other. I had the correct breakfast (the one I chose last week), same with lunch. But then, here comes the twist to the day, a different dinner awaited me; one that I didn't chose.

I told one of the nurses and she checked my meal plan. At first she thought I was lying so that I could get out of eating. But, to her surprise, I was correct. I had gotten a meal that I didn't order.

Did I care? Yes. Did my thoughts go all over the place, telling me that it's a good excuse not to eat. Yes. Did I listen to those thoughts? Did I act on them? Did I succumb to them? NO.

Even though I wasn't pleased with the meal that I was faced with - with what was in front of me - I ate everything on that plate, down to the last crumb. Although it didn't taste delicious, I didn't give in to my thoughts. I'm stronger than them.

I kept telling myself that my body needs those nutrients, those calories, regardless of whether it is something that I enjoy eating - something that I actually chose for my meal plan - or not. Like the saying goes, yolo:

You only live once.

Time to make the best of it.

Rough Times

Today is just not my day. I lost weight from my last weigh-in on Wednesday. Shit happens. And now I need to deal with the consequences in a more positive way.

Although I've been following my meal plan, finishing each meal down to the last crumb successfully, and drinking all three high-calorie supplement drinks without hesitation because I know my body needs it, I lost weight. How did this happen? Why, I don't understand. Why me? I've been giving it my all for so long, why punish me like this? The answer is simple - I don't understand; it's not rational - it just doesn't make sense.

Yes, weight fluctuates but I don't understand why the doctor's need to punish me for this since I've been giving it my all. Maybe my drop in weight also has to do with the fact that i had a stomach virus yesterday.

Anyway, regardless of the reason behind this shit result, the consequences are unjust - or so I believe. I am no longer allowed to walk around the premises by myself, only with visitors. And I can no longer leave the premises at all. This, of course, ruined all of my plans for the weekend.

I had several talks with the doctor's today regarding this topic, but no one listened to me. They said that there is nothing I can do to change their mind for this weekend until the next weigh-in, that I'll be having on Monday. Hopefully everything will go as planned and I will not have lost any more weight, but will have gained a bit back. I need this and I hope that my body realizes this.

Sometimes are bodies function irrationally, and I need to be fine with it. Not everything always goes as planned.

"A Tiger Doesn't Lose Sleep Over the Opinion of Sheep"

I was browsing the web earlier on today and stumbled upon this picture with the quote "A tiger doesn't lose sleep over the opinion of sheep." I agree with the saying full on. A tiger simply does not waste any of his energy worrying about his prey because he has better things to do in his time, such as taking a stroll through their territory in the jungle, spending time with their cubs, etc. It's safe to say that tigers have better things to do to occupy their time with.

Words of wisdom

And that got me thinking about where I am at with my thoughts, especially in terms of eating. Just like the tiger, I shouldn't waste any spare moment thinking about food, calories, weight; the list goes on. I should enjoy myself, just like the tiger. 

This is one of the goals I have for my stay here at the station: to be able to think and worry about matters that are not related to food and my disorder. I want to become one of these fierce, ferocious tigers. I know I can become one, slowly and over time - requiring lots of patience. It has greatly improved already, with the thoughts diminishing, yet they are still there and I know that with time, even those little thoughts will start to disappear and fade into the background, transforming me into a tiger.

It's Not Always as Topsy-Turvy as it Appears

My posts on this blog here tend to be quite positive, which in no way means that recovery is a smooth and easy-going process and that there is no negative thoughts or rituals involved. I do still have daily moments in which my anorexic tendencies surface in one way, shape or form. Just because I do not document it, does not mean that my recovery is easy going in any way.

Eating is still hard, I still struggle with every bite. But I am learning to deal with it by trying to enjoy what I take in. I hope to be able to fully enjoy food again soon. Moments still occur in which I regret taking that last bite, or finishing off a particular scary meal that contains several fear foods. Thoughts that come up on occasion involve: Why did you eat that, you already had enough; You don't need that; You're disgusting and don't deserve to treat yourself. I still have these thoughts, but I try not to dwell and listen to them.

I created this blog to have an outlet. On here, I document the positive things that occur during each day so that when I'm feeling down and not well - having anorexic thoughts - that I have a place to turn to and see just how far I have come. Documenting the negative aspects of my recovery would not do me any good as I don't want to be reminded of them, but rather of all the positives and all the successes I've achieved.

On a positive, I believe that I'm past that point in recovery where I'd contemplate ever going fully back to my disorder or try to lose weight. I'm coming to value my mental state more than my physical state and appearance these days which makes gaining weight easier to deal with. 

First Steps Back Into The Real World

This morning was stressful; nothing but anxiety attacks struck me from the time I was awake at three am. Yes, three am. I was simply too nervous to sleep with too many thoughts occupying my mind: how will my roommates be? how many newcomers is there? will they like me? will I stand out? Things like that.

Well, now I know. After a long, excruciating day of scurried packing in the morning, a frantic station change shortly before lunch, and a long afternoon of trying to get used to the new station gave me some answers.

I'm still completely overwhelmed and shocked by the massive changes. There is so much more independence, which, quite frantically, scares me. As weird and unimaginable as it sounds, I want to go back to the intensive psychiatric station 4C instead of the station here, 6B. I was at ease there; in my element. Maybe it's because I've been there for so long that I've gotten used to the conditions, the people, the helpers, the doctors, etc. That's probably why now that I think of it. Here, everything's new and different - exciting in a way? Yes. But oh-so-terrifying for me as well.

There is no constant supervision of the helpers. If you need something, you go look for them at their office. The mattresses are hard and stale, making my joints and bones ache. Thank goodness I talked to the helpers and now I have a gel-mattress like I did down in 4C. There is also no supervision whilst eating, making it harder for me to finish my plate as I am not being monitored. I know I have to though, to nourish my body as it needs the nutrients to repair itself and I have been successful so far. The people are different, very different. There's many more differences, but that's some of the major ones I can think of at the top of my head.

It's a scene change and environment shock for me, to say the least. But I know that just like with 4C, I will become accustomed to my surroundings and learn to appreciate all the station has to offer to me in terms of therapy and the people that are here. I just need to be patient - everything takes time.

Rough First Times

Today was uneventful for a for a Monday to say the least. Usually, mondays are the busiest days as it is right after the weekend - all the doctor's need catching up with the helpers; the psychologists are back; physiotherapy starts up again; ergotherapy begins as well. Stressful, to say the least. There is people running around everywhere the whole morning until visiting hours begin at 2 pm. Doctors, nurses, helpers, patients just hustling about one another in the corridor and dodging between each other in the rooms; it reminds me of Shibuya and the crossing, the whole disorder that it entailed - with people walking and crossing the street wherever they pleased.

As I said, at 2 pm it quietens down as visiting hours start. Everything dies down: all the chaos, the stress, the noise level - all of it. It's okay during the day as it is bright out and the sun is still able to radiate through my brightly decorated windows to keep me positive. But it's a whole different story for the evening visiting hours from 5 to 8 pm. It's already dark out; the hospital lights make you dreary and sleepy; and the thoughts get stronger and louder, just like a lion cub does as it grows older.

So far, I've always had someone be here with me for the nightly visiting hours because of those reasons, so that I would be distracted and feel more at home; it also showed that I have support and encouragement from others. But tonight is different. Tonight is the first night that no one came. A dear family friend had planned to come but tragic events came in the way and it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. The notice I was given was too short notice to find someone else to come, so I had to figure out how to keep myself sane and positive. And so far, I've succeeded.

Today, I have made 30 origami cranes, 3 window color paintings, written a story, read in my book, made a friendship bracelet, etc. I've been occupying myself productively. Looking at the list just now, I realize that everything is something creative. I've come to love being creative and producing things while being here. It's something I hope to keep up with once I am well and healthy again.

I am able to survive tonight, by myself. I can do this. I have come so far - this is no setback for me. I won't let those thoughts get the best of me, I will get the best of them by staying positive and doing everything I possibly can to occupy myself. Starting with a movie, yup, that sounds good.

A Perk of Recovery

When I arrived at the hospital, skeletal, lifeless, dead as a doornail, I couldn't move any of my joints at all - I was in that much pain. But I didn't care, because that voice controlled every aspect of my life back then. Now all I hear are thoughts, and even those are diminishing, slowly, just as time is ticking away day by day. It will still take an incredible amount of persistence, strength and time for those thoughts to ultimately disappear - just like that red handkerchief always does when the magician flicks his wand and says a spell.

As I was incapable and unfit to even move from one side to the other on my bed upon arrival here, you could say I was pretty much unable to move at all. But now, as I am slowly gaining my health back, the perks of recovery are definitely becoming visible. At the beginning, all I did was sleep. Now, I don't, obviously or I wouldn't be writing this, ha. One thing that hasn't change is that I still have strict bedrest as my weight is still incredibly low (I am only allowed to leave my bed for my daily shower, or with the physiotherapist). But I'm trying to change that willingly and so I've accepted that bedrest is the best option for me right now, as I know that weight gain is a slow and tiring process.

Now, I am able to not only blog here; I am able to have proper conversations again without forgetting what I've said a minute before, or not hearing part of someone's question - always an embarassing thing, especially when it happens to you when speaking with a doctor; I can make friendship bracelets; I read; I can do things. That's the most important thing. I'm not lifeless anymore, I am finally able to move and live again.

Today in physiotherapy I managed my first 1 km on the stationary bike with no resistance - I feel on top of the world writing this down because it shows how far I've come. I know it doesn't seem like much, but it's a milestone for me. I was unable to even take a step five weeks ago, don't forget, and now, here I am, biking a whole kilometer! Bizarre. I loved every minute of it, I cherished it greatly. Tomorrow I'm supposed to play table tennis with my physiotherapist, we'll see how that goes. One thing's for sure, I'm looking forward to it!

Go Hard or Go Home

Everyday there seems to be some sort of information that finds its way - oozing slowly across the horizon until reaching the northern star - being documented, manipulated as knowledge in which to simultaneously create a storyline too, as well as recorded in dire times. Yet I find that the time is never desperate enough, and that there's always a teensy spark left and hope to give before the end of the day; to be able to end the day with a bang. Like my mom said today, Go Hard or Go Home. And that's the truth.

For all you chocolate lovers, sweet tooths, or simply those with a hearty appetite calling for that sweet, delicious pastry that you just wholeheartedly enjoyed every bite of, down to the last crumb, be proud. I can now successfully label myself as someone who ate not one, but two typical Austrian Germknödel - yeast based dumplings with plum butter placed inside; served with melted butter and poppy seeds crushed with sugar. Although I still have ways to go and eons to reach before finding pleasure in consuming deserts and not have them be labeled as fear foods, I'm doing my part, taking initiative.

A typical Austrian Comfort Food - Germknödel.
I used to love this as a little kid, and will successfully have conquered this as a fear food soon.

Learning to live. Wanting to live. Needing to live.

That's what it comes down to. I want to be able to tick off deserts from my list of fear foods, which includes not only the process of consuming a piece of desert but the thought process that goes along with it, as part of my recovery. Yes, I get sick, dizzy, stomache cramps, headaches, you name it, after a meal - not to mention the thoughts that start to try and tear me down - but I pursue and stay strong. I finish the desert successfully and live with the results, knowing that one day, those will all be gone. 

Truth

There's a famous saying that one of the caregivers - my favorite, to be honest - informed me of that sums up everything perfectly. 

This quote symbolizes nothing but the truth. Everyone faces their daily struggles, everyone has their downs - that's normal. But the importance lies in fighting back, in being able to overcome that one nasty little hurdle if they keep pursuing their goal - to stand up strong. 

You will get there. I will get there. I will be healthy again.It just takes time.

First Whole Meal

Today was hectic to say the least. First off, it's Monday, the start of the week. And secondly, the nursing team, including all doctors, psychologists, etc. needed to be informed on the occurences of the weekend - which took eons, just like mountains slowly changing shape over time, for each of the eight patients here. 

Usually this morning ritual ends at 10, today it ended just before lunch arrived. Stressful you say? You're most definitely right. Imagine Times Square in New York at its peak hour - having millions of people scramble all over the place, hurrying from one shop to the next, the traffic, the noise, the lights; simply everything - it just gets very overwhelming.

To make matters worse, and to add to all the already built-up anxiety, I was informed that I would, from now, eat WHOLE meals instead of simply half of a meal. The additional calories over the nose tube would remain though.

And I managed to get rid of that voice.

I successfully ate a whole meal even though I was anxious all day.

I overcame my fear of eating once again.

I defeated that little devil up there.

I tried to enjoy my food.

I used all the encouragement and support from everyone to keep going, because I know that my body needs all the nourishment it can get to heal and get healthy.

Support from Loved Ones

"A house is made of love and beams; a home is built with love and dreams" - Unknown

This quote says it all. A family is a place built on love and support for each other. The parents cherish their children and would do anything to help them grow and succeed as an indivudal in the outside world. Deep affection is clearly visible between the parents and their children, as there is no deeper bond between anybody else than them - as they are bonded through blood.

It is in human's nature, to neglect this oh-so-important reality at times - the fact that our family is always there for us, in both the good and bad times. That they are there to help us get through the tough times, supporting us one hundred percent, and by trying their absolute hardest to make the recovery to a better life as smooth as possible.

And that's what finally hit me today, sporadically, while I was enjoying my "kitty wash" this morning, thinking about how beautiful it is outside - longing for the day I can finally feel and inhale the scent of fresh air again. Ever since I developed my eating disorder and was officially diagnosed with it in November of 2011, my parents have done everything they possibly can to ensure that I live; to make sure that I survive just another day. We didn't   make plans for the future, as their worries and thoughts that ran through their head non-stop during the year revolved around me and my disorder. They planned how to survive the day with that devil that fell upon me, that chose me and my family. My parents sacrificed all of their time, my dad cancelling most of his business trips during the year to make sure that he is near me and enable to encourage me to eat - regardless of what it was, as long as I ate something to reassure him that I wouldn't go completely without food. A few days ago, my mom told me that she has cried herself to sleep everyday since this all began because she was so worried about me and if I would live, or if the disorder had alread taken over me completely and it was too late to do anything about it.

Even now, while I am at the hospital, my parents are adapting their entire routine around me, ensuring that there is always one of them in Vienna. Here, with me, beside me; helping me get through these tough times of successfully fighting against the voice several times a day. They haven't seen each other in more than a month, and it will be another week before they do. Because, I realized just how much time and effort they have given into helping me get better, they haven't had time for themselves. And so, my gift to them, is getting healthy again and enjoy living because that's all that matters. 

As I started with a quote, I will end with one as well - as it perfectly describes my thoughts right at this very moment.

Another Step Taken In The Right Direction

There comes a time when we start to feel anxious, scared, frightened, or even haunted by whatever thoughts are going through our mind at the current occassion. Hopefully we don't fall into that state often. If we do, it would be just as horrendous as having to acknowledge every single one of ones co-workers, either with a nice gesture or greeting, every morning - even the ones we despise. It is a painful and agonizing process that one really doesn't need to go through on a daily basis; or even weekly for that matter.

But we do, and that's life. The way we deal with these occurences is what distinguishes our character; whether we give into our mind or fight and stand tall, like the Statue of Liberty. No one is positive 24/7, but the willingess and eagerness to try to achieve that supportive mindset is what sets one apart from the rest, showing one's strength in character.

For me, right now, I am in this situation seven times a day. Seven. Seven times where I have to argue with that devil, that awfully painful voice - just like a chalk that is being dragged across a blackboard in a slow and agonizing manner, creating the most horrific sound - and trying to conquer it. After evrey occurence, I know that I will only grow stronger. Although my mind persistently tries to interfere with my state of mind, I have been successful in conquering it at all meals today.

Today marks the first day in which I ate everything I was given. Not even crumbs were left behind on any of the three meal plates nor was there a single drop of the supplement drink left unnoticed at the bottom of the syringe for the other four. What a success.

Being me, I had to document everything I ate today, so that I am in fact able to remind myself just how far I have come since my admission here. My three regular meals today consisted of

Breakfast: apple, fruit yogurt, muesli, butter, whole wheat bread

Lunch: italian vegetable soup, polenta patties, courgette-tomato stew, salad with yogurt dressing and a brioche croissant

part of my lunch

Dinner: herbs soup, tomato-basil spread, one roll, one whole wheat bread, a tomato and cheese

Writing down all the nutrients that I have generously given my body today, making it healthier, makes me realize just how far I have come mentally. Although I felt horrible during the process as well as after, I survived. I'm still here, fighting.

Like the title says, it's another step in the right direction. It can only go upwards from here.