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. 

Reassurance

Today, I decided it was time to visit one of my good friends down in 4C, the intensive station. I hadn't been in a while and thought that an exchange between us was overdue - it's been six days since I had last been there; six long days where I have grown a lot mentally.

As I am still not allowed to leave the station by myself, I had to come up with a plan on how to get to 4C. Thankfully, another friend of mine from the neighboring station, who was down at 4C the same time as me, wanted to visit the station as well and decided to join me on my adventure.

On our way 'downtown', back to our old home in a sense, we encountered the leading doctor from 4C, who is responsible for saving my life and my fresh start. I owe him so much for all that he has done for me. He was overcome with happiness to see both of us. I hadn't seen him since my dismissal nearly two weeks ago and the changes that I have been through both mentally and physically were clearly visible to him.

His smile today is a symbol of his satisfaction; seeing how well we both adjusted to the new stations and how we are doing. His smile reassured me that I am doing the correct thing and that I need to keep going in this direction.

It's amazing just how much a smile can influence a person. He left me with hope, courage, perseverance and strength to fight on.

Reunion with Daddy

Finally; I saw my father again for the first time since September 30th. Quoting Nelly, a hip-hop artist, whose song I sang at graduation with the rest of my grade, "Today is the day; Is the day that I have always dreamed of."

Cambodia two and a half years ago.

Seeing my dad walk into my room at 1 pm today instantly brought tears to my eyes, and his, if I remember correctly. Not tears of sadness, but tears of joy - of happiness. We were finally reunited after having been apart for what seems like eons to me.

The last time he saw me, my condition was a lot worse than now; although my mindset had already changed and I was already tackling my disorder head-on. He had already seen the fighting spirit in me, but now, he could tell how much I've changed; how much I've developed and gotten healthier - although I am still nowhere near healthy, if you know what I mean.

Back in September, I was unable to move - I was on strict bed rest and still had my daily "kitty wash" on the bed as I was too weak to take a shower and my circulation was still too bad. I still had regular infusions back then because my body wasn't able to provide the sufficient nutrients. I also had the two blood transfusions while he was with me. Also, I weighed a lot less than I do now.

Therefore, the tears of joy from him are also a symbol of relief. Now he knows and can see for himself, that I've been successful so far. That I want to live; to return to normality.

I love my dad to death and value his opinion greatly. I had a blast with him today. Seeing my mom and him together for the first time since summer was just the icing on the cake. I loved every minute of today.

Friendships - Support & Encouragement

Ever since coming to the hospital in September, I have built up my repertoire of friends successfully. Due to the constant moving around and never being in Vienna except for the summer, it's been tough staying in touch with friends from kindergarten, elementary school, or even earlier - back when I was a baby. At the beginning of summer upon my arrival in Vienna, I only had contact to maybe three people that weren't part of my family.

But now, all of that is different; I have built up connections and friendships with so many friends from earlier again. I can honestly say that I value every single relationship like it were the most precious jewel the world has to offer - that much. All of them have my back, are encouraging, caring and show their support by making room in their busy schedules to come and visit me here. I can't say this enough, but thank you for making my stay here so much more bearable. I don't know where I'd be without all of my friends. They give me so much strength and encouragement that I know I can do it; perseverance and patience are all it takes from this point on. I just have to keep going; with the amazing support. 

I don't know where I'd be without you all, you are all part of my rock, my foundation.

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.

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. 

Three Weeks - Going Strong

Today marks the twentyfirst day of having this blog - three weeks -  that I adhere to and vent to every night, that it has become almost like my nightly ritual. Indeed, thinking about it now, it has become part of my routine, part of me by becoming a place to seek solace in as well as comfort, in reassuring myself with old blog posts filled with words of encouragement, that i'm doing the right thing.

Surprisingly, what I didn't know, is that Felix Baumgartner is currently attempting to jump out of a hot air balloon to break a world record - "The highest jump from the air." Aaaaaaaand he just landed; what a success! Seeing him succeed and pursure with such a difficult and life-threatening attempt, made me realize that his courage and sheer determination to pull that stunt is there - dominant - just like mine, battling against this monster in my head. Both of us are trying our hardest, fighting against all odds to succeed and pursue our goals. Anyway, congratulations Felix, but back to the point now.

What I wanted to say was that, as this is my blog, I am able to write exactly what I'm feeling and going through, which right now, is calmness - yet again. Calmness for the second time in a row? Is that even possible? Calories? Fear Foods? Food Rituals? What happened to those thoughts? They do not matter. They do not determine my self worth. Being calm, that's a good sign, says the rational part of me, but then there's that other voice, looming on my shoulder, crouching, whispering into my ear saying, "you just had such a calorie-dense meal shoved down your tube that you don't deserve you're disgusting." This type of battle is something I face multiple times a day and I successfully push through because I'm looking at the bigger picture, of gaining my life and health back. Of wanting to live, properly, and to not have to live and reside in a hospital - as it's crouching on two months of being in one.

Little Things

To start off, today's weather was simply astonishing - the bright and sunny atmosphere instantly created vibes of happiness and positivity that spread throughout this dull and dimly lit hospital room. Having the sun radiate through the window, that are decorated by the most decadent creations of window paintings and mandalas (obviously made by me, haha) that automatically made it a good start to the day for me, as I am one of the lucky ones to be next to a window! 

Regardless of the window, the day didn't falter. In fact, there were so many positive steps today that right now, I actually feel so calm and at ease -  even after all the food i've had to consume; that my body's been rejecting by giving me stomach cramps, headaches and feelings of sickness etc., but i've pushed through it. 

For three days now, i've been having 3 whole meals plus an additional amount via the nose tube, Today I had to eat the biggest portion of, excuse my language, fucking mac and cheese it's ridiculous; but I managed, and that's what counts.

And you know what? Right now, I couldn't give a shit about that, all the food I've eaten and everything related to that. I feel amazing and it's 9 pm. At this very moment, calories, food, anything regarding that matter, is no where near my mind. I think that for right now, I've conquered that little demon inside of me. We'll see how long that lasts. 

I can't be too optimistic as recovery isn't a happy-go-lucky positivity trail that one joins but it does come with ups and downs, just like a rollercoaster does at your favorite amusement park. Currently I seem to be on the highest high I've had so far, I just hope that it lasts.

We'll see what tomorrow brings, but I'm already prepared for a good day because my favorite caretakers and doctors are here :3 Plus my mom is coming.

WHAT UP.

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. 

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.