Last Year was Bittersweet

I must say that I've gone through a lot this year and that there has been lots of changes. 2012 was probably the most radical year for me. 

There were bad days, weeks, months - hours filled with obsessing over weight, calories and macros, the negative thoughts, and those wretched rituals. The innumerable amount of days that were ruined because of the thoughts running through my mind nonstop - thoughts about being too ugly, too fat, worthless; you name it. I ruined an incredible amount of relationships, not only with friends but with family members as well, by avoiding them as I completely withdrew myself from society. Nights were spent at home, locked up in my room, secretly partaking in physical activity of whatever form was possible while hiding from the outside world - complete isolation. I was entrenched in my thoughts regarding food - nothing else mattered. My eating disorder was in full force; it controlled me. Numbers and scales dominated everything about me. On a positive note, 2012 is also the year when I decided to recover from anorexia, to slowly gain back both my physical and mental health, as well as forming a great quantity of new friendships.

Let's recapture both the high's and low's of 2012:

• I graduated High School

• I moved back to Vienna, leaving Japan behind me

• I had no social life during senior year and lost contact to almost everyone

• I missed out on a quarter of the school year because I was unable to go to school due to my disorder - I was too worn out

• My family and I tried the Maudsley Approach in regards to battling my anorexia, a Family Based Treatment, with minimal success

• I was admitted to the hospital on August 30 and am still here today

• I was sectioned by law and the government was involved as I refused to stay at a hospital and get help

• I was in the only intense psychiatric station of Austria for two months where they saved my life

• I nearly died

• I was fed over the nasogastric tube as I was unable to consume proper food since all my organs were failing

• I ordered my first proper meal at a restaurant again - funghi pizza, anyone?

• I took on my battle with anorexia and will continue to fight

There must be many more events that qualify for my list, but that's all I can think of at the moment. I will update it whenever I remember an occurence.

Excuse the language, but this disorder can go screw itself. I am scared of what's to come in my ongoing battle, but I also know that it needs to be done. 2012 was bad, but that doesn't mean that 2013 will be. 2013 is a canvas for me to paint however I want. 2013 is my year.

A Big Sigh of Relief

Yesterday I mentioned going to bed feeling very tense, uneasy and anxious at the thought of today's weigh-in because of my dilemma. Well, it's over now and I'm still here; standing tall - both figuratively and literally, haha.

This morning was horrid. I was shaking stepping onto the scale and had my eyes shut tightly out of fear. Slowly gaining enough courage, I gradually open first my right and then my left eye, staring at the number. Thankfully there was no drastic change; my weight didn't plummet - it stayed the same. It was as if my prayer's had been answered because the last time I had an upset stomach, I was put on station lockdown as I had lost weight; but not this time. In my head, I immediately started doing a happy dance. A huge sense of relief spread all over my body and I was ready to face the day.

Another incredibly positive outcome of today is that my mom arrived back from Germany tonight. She is now back for the time being. It's good to have my mommy back, I've missed her tremendously.

"You look better"

Those three words you look better, or any other form that brings across the same message, such as you look healthier, has taken up a whole new meaning ever since my arrival down at the intensive station. I no longer dread those words.

Last year when I tried to recover on my own, with the help of my parents through the Maudsley Method, I couldn't bare those words. Hearing them - hearing that I was getting healthier; getting my life back in a sense - was pure torture because it meant that I was distancing myself from the anorexic thoughts, behaviors, etc. Back then I was still so intertwined in my eating disorder that the thought that I was slowly returning back to my old self was anything but pleasant news. Everytime I heard a remark such as "you look better" my world shattered into a million pieces - just like that of a little child when it discovers that Santa Claus and the Toothfairy don't exist - and the negative thoughts started racing in my mind. Comments like "You're a failure for gaining weight", "See, you heard them, you're getting fat" and "Don't listen to them, they don't know what's good for you. But I do, stop eating; you don't deserve it" would circulate in my mind for hours on end after a comment regarding my eating disorder was made that was supposed to be positive.

Now, everything is completely different.

When I hear those words now, instead of being in shock and pure hatred at the person who delivered those news, I am thrilled as it means that others can physically tell that I am getting better. Like I said before, I no longer dread those words; on the contrary, I am overcome with joy when hearing them. 

First Night at Home Since August

Last weekend, I was given the option of going on night-leave and so I, credulous me, thought that it would be no different this time - that the choice of going on night-leave would be there. Well, I was wrong. This week was eventful to say the least. From the station lockdown on Wednesday to the consumption of both additional eadible calories and liquid calories on top of my meal plan and my first real dining out experience for the past 1.5 years, it's safe to say that a lot has happened with regards to my recovery in the past few days.

On Friday, during the doctor's round, the head doctor presented his case regarding his decision not to give me the option of night-leave and my world shattered into a million little pieces, just like a mirror does when it is dropped. Then again, broken pieces of glass are supposed to give you luck - just a thought. He wanted to give me two day passes that are valid for the entire day, which means that I had the possibility to eat lunch outside in a restaurant or at home on both Saturday and Sunday. His reason behind this, and I quote, "we do not want to rush into anything like last time and take on too much at once." 

Anger-ridden me, because of the situation and his belief, started to argue with him. For 10 minutes I sat there and pleaded my case, trying to successfully convince him and the rest of the team that night-leave would be good for me. With the day passes, I would have two meals in total that wouldn't be at the hospital; I used that as my main point. Thankfully, we came to a consensus - that I would be allowed to go home on Saturday after lunch as long as I returned for lunch on Sunday; which also comes down to having two meals outside. I was overjoyed and full of excitement and my mood altered immediately to a much healthier state.

...I just woke up from my first night at home of sleeping in my bed, with my sheets, in my room. Might I just say that I haven't slept this good since going to the hospital at the end of August - this night was pure bliss.

An amazing good night's sleep after an extraordinary afternoon and evening at home was simply beyond my wildest expectations of what would occur. Yesterday afternoon was spent with my mom and together with her, I organized my room and tried to tidy up my closet - which we achieved. The night was spent with my best friend, who came to look at our newly furnished and bought apartment, and we had a lovely time together - catching up and watching movies.

Having gone on night-leave was definitely the right option for me, as it has given me the incentive to try even harder in terms of my recovery because I want to lead a normal life again. And having a taste of that for the first time was, like I said, beyond my wildest expectations.

Deja Vu

So far, today is a good day. My mom was here the whole afternoon, and it was simply lovely - time always flies by when we are together. Whether we are playing cards, doing something artsy, playing table tennis outside or just gossiping about anything and everything, it always brightens my mood instantaneously.

Today is also a day of reflection, of how far I have come. Back when I was down at the intensive station, I remember the times I still had the nasogastric tube and was unable to eat meals because my organs were all not functioning correctly anymore. The very first real meal  that I had to force myself to eat, was half a portion of a cabbage-and-noodle casserole. I managed then, but only just. It was horrible - the thoughts were so strong back then; it scares me just thinking of how hard eating was back then.

Anyway, today for lunch I also had the cabbage-and-noodle casserole. This time I had the full meal plan though; and I ate it all, down to the last crumb. Yum. That's all I can say. As scay as it is to admit, I enjoyed my lunch. It reminds me of my elementary school days as it is something that I ate on a weekly basis back then.

It's things like this that make me realize just how far I have come. That meal that I finished today is a symbol of my progress - of my endurance and strength to continue. 

Mom's Back, Fever's Gone

Sorry for being MIA these last two days, it's just that the flu had gotten the better of me - just like the villain's sometimes do in Disney Channel Movies, but in the end, the good always triumph. I did nothing but sleep all day; how exciting you all must think, I know I know - my life really couldn't be any more interesting at this point. But at least I was able to outsleep my flu; you could say. 

Through countless sweat seizures during both days and nights, and the many clothes changes that were involved, I was able to get rid of my temperature successfully. Trust me, usually I am all for changing outfits multiple times a day, that's any girls' dream come true; but doing so that many times and in those conditions was anything but enjoyable. The only positive is that my fever is now gone.

Now all that remains is that nasty cold, but that's doable. At least now I can finally move again, and enjoy life just like before that nasty little flu! Tomorrow is the first day that I will go back to having ergotherapy and physiotherapy, so I'm excited about that. I was still too weak today even though my fever was gone.

On another bright note, my mom arrived back from Japan yesterday! She came here straight from the airport, although she had a total jetlag and everything; she came straight here to see me, which shows how much she cares. I love her to death. Her support means the world to me. Having her here makes me so much happier; just knowing that she's close by.

Just a quick shout out to you mom, I love you more than you can imagine. You mean the world to me together with dad and Klemens. 

First Outing!

Dull, misty and foggy. That's what I remember this morning being like. It reminded me of a graveyard, and all the uneasiness and mystery that comes with one. In a way, it was a perfect halloween setting, which, may I say, I am totally stoked for and is just around the corner! I already know what I'm gonna be, do you? Anyway, the conditions outside were horrid and thus my room was never able to become light and bright - there was no positive vibes coming in from outside. It felt more like positive vibes were leaving, being sucked out into all the remnants. To brighten the room, the helpers brought in an extra therapy light to create the ying and yang that was missing this morning. With this lamp, everything was going full force again and I was on track.

At the daily rounds, I was nervous to say the least, anxiously awaiting what the leading doctor would say today - sitting in my bed trying to collect myself and calm down just like students try to before taking a test. All the frantic worrying was time wasted, as there was nothing but good news today! I am now able to go to the ergotherapy room in a different floor instead of having them come down here to me; enabling me to do a variety more of creative things that are impossible at an intensive psychiatric station.

And the best news to date is that I am now allowed to go outside! Outside. Me. Who would've thought. For now, I am allowed to leave the station for one hour everyday in accompaniment with a visitor.

Since September 7, I have been mainly on bedrest, stuck on my bed (at the beginning it was because I was actually unable to move myself around at all), and for the last three days I have been allowed to walk around in the station. But today marks the day that I left the station for the first time, with my best friend in the world. We walked to starbucks (thank god for the starbucks that's in the main building that we found in no time as we thought we would never even come near it - making us feel like proper detectives who just solved their biggest case: proud and accomplished). I was at starbucks; sitting there with my best friend, just talking, gossiping about anything and everything. Once again, I felt normal. I didn't feel like I was sick, like I had this atrocious illness for just a few splendid moments. And that's all I needed to make today a good day. My best friend and my first outing. 

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!

Best News Yet

If you think yesterday was an amazing day, false. It was good, but nowhere near as exuberant as today. Today was most definitely the ultimate day I have wittnessed. Even though I had to say my goodbyes to one of the people I care for the most, my mother - as she quickly (with special permission from the leading doctor here) dropped by on her way to the airport as she is currently heading to Tokyo - and received food over the tube, today beats all days so far. I know I should be sad about my mother leaving my side, of our parting, but I'm so full of joy for her: she'll finally be reunited with my father as well as my brother and just the thought of them being together, in our house, in the environment we put together and feel comfortable in, makes me happy. I'm grinning from one ear to the other right now; that's how big my smile is. I love my family to death.

Now, enough with the family appreciation, although I do love them dearly and am fighting for my life, in ultimately trying to be with all of them again. The four of us, in one place. That hasn't happened since the summer. And that's something I miss and want to return oh so desperately, like a chocolate lover craving his chocolate but being unable to reach the bar that's just beyond his reach - but the smell prevails and continues to torture him and his cravings.

Today at the daily talk with the doctors, I asked about the tube and how I'd been working so hard for the past week, eating three full meals willingly while additionally getting food via the tube. It's important to note that everything was willingly, as in they didn't force me. They would've forced me to eat somewhow had I not done it by my own will. And since I had my "Oh" Moment about recovery a bit over three weeks ago, when I created this blog, I also realized that I need to nourish my body and look after it for it to function properly. And now comes the good news, the leading doctor praised my cooperation and let me know that tomorrow, my NOSE TUBE WOULD DISAPPEAR because of my teamwork and all the effort that I've been putting into this journey. I would finally look normal from the outside. I wouldn't look werid with this thing stuck in my face. Sure, I would still be skeletal, but I would look human and not like an alien with a tube that comes out from its nose. I'm sitting here crying tears of joy just at the thought of it. I'm so excited. Finally.

***instead of getting fed over the tube, I would now receive three high-caloric drinks daily to make up for the calories. 

A Little Pampering Never Hurt No One

Should there be a quota in regards to pursuing recovery; doing what is considered necessary in gaining a semblance of a life back? It could be based on reaching and taking appropriate recovery steps in the right direction. Who wouldn't love that? Being treated for doing the right thing once, twice, or even several times daily - which comes with quite a few favors free for one to use to their advantage. Achieving this quota countless times would enable a whole spa day, using each 'ticket' - one could call it - for a different activity such as a manicure, pedicure, massage, etc. Realistically talking though, as much as I would want this quota to exist as it would be heavenly, recovery is something one should go about handling for themselves. Recovering for favors, for goodies, for one's parents, one's boyfriend, whom or whatever, it won't work as the thoughts are too strong and you too weak, succumbing to their demands. The first time I gave recovery a go, I was under the impression of being able to wing this by wanting to recover for someone else. That idea backfired, to say the least as it got me here. Well, now I know better and am going through this process by myself, for myself, my body and my health. Now I'm not saying that rewards aren't something not to have or look forward to, one just shouldn't base their recovery around them.

So, here I am, typing this as part of my nightly ritual here, being given a head massage by my mom, whom I adore and love unconditionally - to the moon and back - and enjoying it, but for the right reasons.

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. 

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.