Additional Liquid Calories? Check.

As I mentioned in this post, consuming anything that isn't in my meal plan, whether it be a quick nibble at something or a drink that isn't tea or water, is a fear of mine. It is still an irrational fear of mine that I will gain x pounds because of one small extra add-on.

In the link above, I conquered additional eadible calories, and tonight I successfully gulped down extra calories that weren't incorporated in my three daily supplementary drinks.

Tonight in the afternoon, I went to the closest Christkindlmarkt - a traditional christmas market - with friends from the neighboring station. There, with the support of them, and the joyous and jolly spirit of the surroundings - all that christmas charm - I was able to have another major recovery win. Like yesterday, where I was surrounded by people I care for, I was able to enjoy those liquid calories in the form of a Kinderpunsch, which is non-alcoholic glögg. 

No second thoughts; no negative behaviors; nothing out of the ordinary. It was all completely normal, and that's what I love. I'm slowly becoming myself again and am able to deal with issues besides calories and food.

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.

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. 

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.

Encouragement and Support

Today’s been a rough day to say the least - one of the worst for sure - like one of those school days everyone dreads, where the time just does not seem to pass, and you are stuck there for ages, robbing you all of your energy and zest for life. I am emotionally drained, incredibly anxious and am most likely getting a virus.

The day started out amazing, but now, at night time, I’m not in a good and positive mindset at all because I am genuinely scared of the night nurse, whom I have never seen here this past month, and am probably getting an infection as the evening ritual of checking one’s blood pressure, temperature, pulse, etc revealed that I have acquired a mild fever. In most cases, it means nothing, something that you simply have for a day or two because you over-exhausted yourself and need to rest. But for me, in my condition, it’s not good. I already receive antibiotic medication twice daily, which is generally used to lower one’s temperature. But now, with 37.4 C and all other symptoms, I am scared that it will lead to setbacks in my recovery process as my health is still in a critical condition. Panic-stricken, that’s what I am, like the children in the well-known movie Monsters Inc  in which the ‘monsters’ creep into children’s rooms while they are in deep slumber -  dreaming of their fondest moments they have experienced thus far in their short little lives - scaring them to death. I want to get better, to get healthy. I really do not need any more complications. Tomorrow, the doctor’s will be informed and hopefully I’ll receive excellent news, that it is simply my body adjusting and that it is normal to happen; like a student eagerly running home with the biggest grin on his face, showing his parents a report card with the best grades possible. We’ll see. And I promise that to who ever reads my daily thoughts and vents, I will inform you. I’m hoping for the best.

I genuinely hope that by journalling and writing down my thoughts, that I can clear my mind and get rid of that wretch up there that is so dominating right now it is almost unbearable; just like having a big, strong, muscular and tough looking man bawl at you, and scrutinize you only with foul language without stopping. It’s horrible, trust me.

This morning I was finally able to take a shower and now my hair is finally bearable again - conditioned, taken care of, the whole lot. It honestly felt like I was sitting at the hairdresser, getting my hair pampered by getting the best hair cure treatment known to man. Realistically, I know I didn’t, but boy it felt good to finally be able to wash and condition my hair again. There’s even better news: I walked the ten meters to the shower by myself, without the help of a nurse - completely wobbly on my feet - but still. And that’s all because of starting physiotherapy yesterday. It seems like a miracle to me - like witnessing a shooting star soar through the horizon in a flash before it disappears before your eyes - being able to not need someone else's support to walk a short distance in such a teeny span of time. But I did it, I managed.

Then, at the daily round of the nursing team and doctors that occurs everyday at 10 am sharp, like clock work, I was informed that my meal plan would change abruptly. I would now have 1/2 of the typical portions for breakfast, lunch and dinner as well as being fed over the tube, still. Pure horror. Not only that, but I wasn’t told in advance, so I couldn’t mentally prepare myself and try to rationalize with my mind that it is what’s best for me, for my health, and that the experts know what they are doing. And guess what? I managed most my meals today  - with all the help, support and encouragement that I have from everyone around me.

Although regular patients here at the hospital, are able to chose from three different selections for all three meals, I was simply given three today, robbing me of my freedom in a sense. But again, I managed. I was so anxious, so afraid of the food - the voice in my head was screaming like it hadn’t in ages - because it wasn’t things I wouldn’t have chosen to consume. Noodles; I don’t remember the last time I had noodles - it seems like a decade ago - as they became a fear food for me that I avoided at all costs during the depths of my eating disorder; but I achieved to eat almost the complete half portion successfully. At lunch, the psychologist sat with me: comforting me, reassuring me that it is necessary for my body, my health - to try and eat as much as possible from the portion I was served - and was able to distract me from those horrid thoughts nested up there like a bird, still making itself feel at home. But slowly and surely, the voice is diminishing. At dinner, my mother was with me, and she basically did the same as the psychologist. In regards to eating, today was a success I must admit, most definitely.

And then it clicked. I realized how many people are here for me, supporting me through these hard times that I have to endure at the moment. I receive so much encouragement from everyone around me that it astounds me; I am speechless -  just like a woman that finds out she is pregnant and will start a family with her beloved.

So I dedicate this bog post to everyone who is there for me, supporting me in whatever way they can - whether that is by simply reading my blog, messaging me over facebook or another site, as there are so many nowadays that one really can’t keep track, to visiting me and sitting beside me while I eat. So thank you. I never realized how many people cared about me; but I realize now that I am surrounded by loved ones who would do anything for me. Take my parents for instance, they alternately travel halfway across the world from Tokyo to Vienna to ensure that I am never alone. Not to mention all the visitors I receive, bringing me small little gifts - to be honest, it feels like christmas whenever I receive a lucky charm, a card, a drawing, etc; whatever, as everything, no matter what it is, is a sign of love. And that, that alone, knowing that I have so many people rooting for me, gives me the strength to pursue with my recovery.

My window shelf, displaying things brought by people who have visited me thus far 

A lion I was given by elementary school friends that has the saying "Get Better" on it's scarf that I received today, that will now occupy my bed for the remainder of my stay here.

The hospital book that I started in which everyone that visits creates a page of their own,, writing words of solace and encouragement; that I will then forever keep.

Thank you everyone, for all the support. It means the world to me and helps me continue to fight.