Another Ultimatum, Really?

Just like for the night from Christmas Eve to Christmas Day, the doctor's have given me yet another Ultimatum for New Year's Eve.

Why? I don't understand why they do this to me. I told them how stressful it was by being given an ultimatum like that; telling me that if I don't gain x grams, I can't stay at home and spend time with the ones I love. Last time I simply stuffed everything I saw into myself to ensure that I would reach their criteria. But the stomach pains that came from eating so much; the mental battle that I faced; the disordered behaviors that surfaced - all of that, the doctor's don't care about those aspects of one's recovery it seems. All they care about is the weight gain. But to me, that's not all. An eating disorder is so much more than just the weight gain as it has a lot to do with one's mentality as well.

I told the doctor's how hard last weekend was because of the ultimatum and how much pressure I put myself under just to make certain that I could go home for Christmas. Although I informed them of the situation and how difficult it was mentally - and physically, as I had severe cramps from all the food - the doctor's did not take any of my comments into consideration. Why? I don't understand.

This time, I am approaching the whole matter differently. I will not have a repeat of last weekend; that was not normal. I will simply eat my three main meals and consume my three supplement drinks as that is hard enough as it is. It should be enough, it has to. If it isn't, then I don't know what I should do as I can't force this weight gain onto me. Weight gain is something that takes time - it doesn't happen over night. It also isn't recommended to rapidly gain weight.

If I can't get night-leave for New Year's Eve I don't know what I'll do yet. But I will make a scene at the station in front of the doctor's as it isn't fair that others get to go home and I can't. All others from the station already know whether they are allowed to stay the night at home; everyone except for me. 

I'm giving it my all, and that should count too.

It's All Too Much At Times

Sometimes I can't handle it all -

The weight gain, the thoughts, the remarks from others here, all the appointments, the therapy sessions, the doctor's visits. 

Sometimes I just need a break and I was really, genuinely hoping, praying even, that I would be able to spend just a few days over the holiday season that's just around the corner at home with my loved ones. Yet I also know that the doctor's obviously know what they are doing and that I need the time here. I hate these conflicing concepts, but I'll have to get used to it sooner or later as it is impossible for me to influence the opinion of the doctor's. 

In a way, the hospital is my safe place - my haven that I can return to in tough times or when I feel that I am incapable of eating proper meals outside as I get too anxious, the thoughts are too loud, or whatever the reason is. That's all the positives that I can think of right now; but hey, at least I'm slowly starting to get my head around the situation of having to be in the hospital over Christmas.

I Wish Numbers Didn't Exist

Numbers; Figures; Digits; Integer.

Whatever you call it, it doesn't matter - all they do is haunt me, plague me, torture me. Numbers inform us of our weight, the calorie content of food, the weight of food....With numbers, everything has an absolute value. These figures rotate around my head all day, especially my weight. I know that it shouldn't bother me but that's the thing with eating disorders, our weight determines the outcome of the day - of whether it will be a good or a bad body image day, or generally. I'm trying so hard to get away from this mindset. I don't want my day to be dictated by godforsaken numbers. 

I want to be able to wake up and not care what the scale says. 
I don't want my weight to determine my mental wellbeing for the day.
I want to be able to look in the mirror and like what I see regardless of the numbers.
I want to be able to forget about the numbers for an entire day.
I want to be able to live freely - without being bound to these digits that only affect me negatively.

I wish there was only mirrors, not scales. When I look in the mirror, I see myself and my body for what it really is - skin and bones. Although I've already gained 11 kilograms since the beginning of my stay, I still have a long way to go in terms of my weight; and I know that. But seeing the scale go up terrifies me to death, yet I know that looking in the mirror, I desperately need it to. And I know that. It's just easier to accept when looking at my reflection rather than focusing on those numbers.

Laughter Fills the Air

Unike yesterday, I can honestly say that I can fall asleep happy and in good thoughts tonight. Although the day had its ups and downs, like it does for everyone, the last hour made up for it. 

I spent this past hour laughing with others from the station; just laughing and having a splendid time. Laughing has always been the best medicine; and will always be, in my opinion. We had our girl session right in front of the nurses' quarters where we 'camped out' in a sense as all of us sat on the floor. When others from the station saw us sitting there, we simply told them that we were having a late night picnic, haha. 

The conversations we had were priceless. None of us were able to stop giggling and cracking up. Let me just say that it was an intense ab workout - for all of us present. I haven't enjoyed myself this much in a long time. Our harmonious laughter filled the station as it was impossible for us to keep quiet. To me, laughter symbolizes so many positive things - freedom, enjoyment, being content, etc. Laughter is something that I crave for when I laugh, I know that I am having a good time as no thoughts are plaguing me. 

Doctor's Approval - Thumbs Up

Today is friday. 
Friday is one of my weigh-in days. 
Friday is the day where the doctor's round determines whether I get night-leave over the weekend.
Friday is a day that scares me - the fear of not knowing if I gained weight or not as well as the fear of possibly not receiving night-leave.
Friday is a day of happiness.

Friday to me symbolizes a lot of things, as listed above. Today was an excellent Friday. 

At the doctor's round, I was informed that I had gained 700 grams from last Friday - I couldn't be happier. Like one of my friends told me, gaining weight is gaining health, gaining life, gaining freedom, gaining happiness and so much more. I felt like a child at christmas when it stands in front of its huge pile of presents and is overcome with joy, glee and excitement. That big grin on that child's face is exactly what I looked like as well upon hearing those news. The doctor's are all proud of me, of how far I've come. Today, I got the thumbs up from the head doctor here and he said that I should simply keep doing what I'm doing - which is trying my hardest to become healthy again.

I can do this.

I got the thumbs up! That says it all.

One Month and One Day

It's amazing how fast time passes in certain instances; it seems like just yesterday that I arrived at the 'new' station. No wonder that there's the saying time flies when you're having fun.

Although there's been rough days, such as the station lockdown, losing weight and the two times that I seriously considered leaving here before my planned date because I couldn't deal with the circumtances correctly, it's been a positive journey for the most part.

Let's just have a little recap of all the positive achievements that I have accomplished in the past month while being here:

• Eating a wrong meal successfully; one that I didn't order in my meal plan
• My first time being outside since August
• My first overnight stay away from the hospital
• My first eating out experience that wasn't in the hospital
• My first time eating at a restaurant and ordering a proper meal from the menu without tweaking the dish to lessen the calorie content
• Consuming both additional food as well as liquid calories
• Gaining weight
• Staring to enjoy food

I think that the list goes to show just how successful I have been and how much I was able to execute. Now I just need to remember that not everyday can be completely positive, that setbacks will occur. In those moments, it will be key to not give in to those anorexic thoughts but to keep going - even stronger.

"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. 

The Art of Doing Nothing

Since coming to the hospital, I have worked a lot on myself - all for the better. In the past few weeks so much has happened both physically and mentally that I could fill several novels with every minor victory and positive aspect of my recovery. 

Tonight I want to highlight and focus on the art of doing nothing; the art of taking a break and how difficult that actually is - for me at least. Ever since coming to the hospital, I have been successfully busying myself every second of every day, mainly creatively, because of all the negative thoughts I have had in regards to my eating disorder as well as all the anxiety that builds up within me everyday. By keeping myself occupied, those thoughts, that stress, that anxiety - all of that - diminishes and slowly fades away into non-existence again; just like a negative dream comes to an end and all of a sudden, everything is peaceful once more.

Yet it isn't normal for someone to be constantly working; to be persistently constructing something through creativity; to be perpetually busy. Everyone takes breaks where they have time to collect themselves, to gather their thoughts and just relax. This is something that  I struggle with immensely as it gives my thoughts free flow and I am never sure what to expect.

For the past few days, my ergotherapist has given me homework - to simply do nothing and 'hang loose', as you can say. Throughout the week, I managed a few short breaks with success, but never for a longer period of time. Tonight was different - with no visitors after 5 pm, I had plenty of time to unwind and gather myself and my thoughts; I was able to relax. 

To my surprise, my thoughts did not turn negative in any way and I was really able to let go and simply do nothing.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

One Month

Today, I will keep it short, simple and to the point, as I am too ecstatic to sit here and blog the night away as I have a reason to celebrate - like your sixteenth birthday, something that everyone simply looks forward to as it is a sign of growing up. I've alluded to being admitted to this station on Friday, September 7, 2012 several times. That's some important knowledge I tell you, so please - from now on - remember that date, engrain it in your brain to ensure that you will remember it for an eternity; or at least until I am finally healthy again. 

September 7. That day will always remain in my mind. It is the day that changed my life for the better. I was given another chance at life, who doesn't want that? Who doesn't want to be able to live, to enjoy themselves, to just have a good time with friends? No one, that's who. And that's why today is a reason of celebrating my process of regaining my life back. As today is Friday October 5, I have been here exactly a month today. One month of fighting, of battling that demon - like Spiderman man does continuously, day and night - is what I have been able to achieve with all the help, support and encouragement.

I'm thankful beyond belief that I've basically been given another chance at life, and have just completed my first month. And boy does it feel good, like one of those nice, soothing foot massages that everyone secretly craves and longs for. 

Having had bed rest the whole month, I have begun to enhance my creative outlet by a ten fold. It's because it helps me relax; it rids me of all plenty of my negative thoughts - just as if I were taking a hot bath and simply relaxing, clearing my mind and enjoying the warmth. I find that by doing something creative - instead of being on the laptop, of sleeping, of breaking rules and not following your own personal treatment plan, or worst of all, constantly thinking and giving into that voice up there, telling me I'm too fat and worthless to live - I calm down. I'm able to push away those thoughts, little by little, helping me relax and even enjoy myself at something, while not being immersed in eating disordered behavior and thoughts.

So to quickly recap, I've been given another chance at life exactly a month ago and I agreed and couldn't be more exhilirated. I can't wait until the day I'm completely healthy again.

My creative outlet that is retained in my  little night, thatthankfully  keeps me company and occupied during the day. It includes: DVDs, friendship bracelets, crocheting, a jewelery making kit, magazines, books, games, a cross stitch picture, my laptop, my phone, stuffed animals with words of encourgament and a self-make photo-album - as well as other things not included in this beautifully crafted image and portrayal of most of my possessions here.

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.

Patience - Everything Takes Time

I arrived here at this intensive psychiatric station on Friday, September 7, over three weeks ago, which seems like a decade ago for me, as time goes by so slowly; much the opposite to taking one of your most important exams and hoping, wishing, longing for the time to go by as slowly as possible to enable you to be absolutely certain of your and finish “on time” - after having nearly died as I was prognosed to not survive the weekend.

I was informed of this horrendous news by one of the experts here on September 18, when I willfully decided to start my new life and finally take my life in the right direction and return to a happier version of myself - I can’t even remember the last time I thoroughly had a good time, where I laughed and simply had a good time. It was probably back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, haha. And yes, this devil robs you of your happiness hormones as well as your health - which is something else I want to gain back, my love for life - making you depressed and suicidal.

Thank God my mindset changed on September 18 may I add; I am done being immersed in my eating disorder, where food, calories and all the planning it involved - when I ate, what I ate, or if I even ate all that day - occupied my mind 24/7. As if I were so fixated on mastering that one incredibly difficult and hard to achieve dismount on the bar for a gymnast that that’s all they practiced for days, never fully perfecting it.

I still have a long way to go in regards to getting healthy - both internally and externally - I just need to be patient, as everything takes its time. I’ve taken the first step and have continued to fight, and that’s what I fully intend to keep on doing.

Like the well-known saying goes, hang in there, everything will takes it’s course and turn out all right in the end. It all just takes time.

Hunger Signals, Finally!

Yesterday was the first day in which I ate breakfast, lunch and dinner in God knows how long, maybe five weeks if I remember correctly. I mean, It was still an all light diet and solely consisted of 6 pieces of rusk and two delicious soups If I may say so myself - minestrone soup and herbs soup; both reminding me of Christmas and that heart-healthy feeling you get after eating something prepared by loved ones in times of joy and celebrations. I really can’t complain of yesterday’s food that I was forced to eat, but ate willingly, because I am stronger than that voice in my head. 

Not only did I eat my prescribed meal plan that I receive additionally to what I obtain via the nose tube, I asked for more. More food, that’s right, it’s like a big old slap in the face for that voice up there, because I have started to develop hunger signals. Which is a good thing! I’m excited like a little child at Christmas that is anxiously anticipating to rip the biggest, most decadently decorated Christmas present to pieces under the most beautifully ornamented fresh-smelling pine tree that I have every laid eyes upon. I can’t remember even the last time I felt remotely hungry, and yesterday of all days, in the presence of my father, they came back. I think it’s time for a little celebration up here, with party hats, the signature red plastic cups and the whole ordeal. 

The last time that I had felt even remorse hunger pains was maybe before Christmas, if not further back - that’s no exaggeration. I’m so glad that my body is slowly, gradually starting to heal itself. It shows that the baby steps I’m taking, where I laugh down at that rascal little voice in my mind - being stronger than him, time and time again - like lions against gladiators in traditional gladiator battles back in the day where the lion always prevailed. I know this all sounds splendid and wonderful, like a rainbow gently brushing beautifully over a city on a clear sky blue day, that I can finally feel and distinguish hunger signals, there’s some irony involved.

The doctor’s ensured me that it’s great that my body is starting to function normally to a certain extent, ensuring me that my health can only go up from here, but it takes time and the much required patience. The experts want everything to run smoothly, with as little setbacks as possible, in nursing me back to full health, that they are trying to do everything to ensure that I do not fall victim to the re-feeding syndrome that I mentioned on one of my prior posts. So, in normal english and the way it makes more sense to me, that is without all the medical terms mixed into it; back to the roots is what I’d like to call it, immediately making me think of caveman desperately trying to attempt to make fire by rubbing stones against each other, and my mood is immediately lifted - as the idea to do that in modern times seems absurd - for what I’m about to say.

Although I am finally experiencing hunger signals and couldn’t be more ecstatic, as it is yet another sign that my body is slowly capable of healing itself, there’s a downside, a setback, like there is whenever something seems to be going good for me. Basically, even though I have hunger signals, upon which a normal person would eat something as their body is informing them that it is in need of food; that it needs to be nourished and not neglected, like a cute three-colored cavalier King Charles spaniel pup that has been abandoned at a pet shelter.

For me, the hunger signals are not supposed to interfere with my current meal plan that is viciously overlooked, multiple times daily, by 4 experts and 2 nutritionists, like eagles stalking for their prey in the middle of nowhere. This means that I can’t just eat a piece of rusk or another soup, the only meals my body is currently capable of digesting and as recommended by the doctors.

But no, I need to endure these painful cramps and try to remain positive. I’m not even allowed to have something like sage candy or say, another glass of tea to numb the pain, because everything is monitored so carefully. It sucks, having to deal with all these aches and being able to do nothing about it, but I have to push through with this. It sucks, to say the least; It’s like planning the most scenic, splendid bridal shower only to realize that you yourself aren’t invitied to.

I need to constantly reinforce why I am here at this intensive station - it’s because I destroyed my body and nearly died as a result. The experts are only trying to ensure that I gain my health back the correct way, and that entails avoiding the re-feeding syndrome. I know recovery is a long and agonizing process, but I’ve come so far and there’s no way that I’m going back.

I am stronger than that voice, I can do this.

Words of Wisdom

A good friend once told me a German quote by Theresa von Avila, “Sei freundlich zu Deinem Körper, damit deine Seele Lust hat, darin zu wohnen.” Which, when translated into English, comes to be, “Nourish your body, so that your soul longs to live in it.” This saying, this very valid and important piece of knowledge, should really be taken to heart, like loved ones you adore and only wish the best for, as it is vital that one looks after their mental wellbeing and health. 

It should really be a quote to live by, almost like a life motto, reminding you of the necessity to treating your body correctly to ensure a superb wellbeing overall. This saying should, in fact, expand to become a life lesson, like one of the Ten Commandments that Jesus deemed necessary for living a full-filled life and focused on how others should be treated while not forgetting oneself in the situation. The quote most definitely has become one for me considering what I am going through at the moment. This quote opened my eyes to the healthy relationship between food and your body that I tried to attain at first, but fell victim to a disorder that did more harm than good. It perfectly describes that a health relationship with food is a necessity to feel well and be a in a good place mentally.

I adore, as well as, swear by this saying and my belief in its requisite to follow the information it exudes, is only enhanced by the experience I am currently having to endure; the process of not only gaining my life back, but my health as well, since I fell victim to the terrible disorder known as anorexia nervosa. 

Eating disorders in general, not just anorexia nervosa, the one I suffer from, try to take over one’s mental state and mind by forcefully placing its very powerful, manipulative voice into your mind, that constantly trying to manipulate you, making you give in and accept the demands and ideas set out by that horrid voice, putting your body and health on the line by making them suffer tremendously.

Yesterday was another good reminder to me as to how much truth, knowledge, and wisdom is prevalent in this saying that I have decided to make a focal point in my new room once the apartment is done renovating, making it visible for visitors while simultaneously functioning as a daily reminder to myself as to how each and everyday should start and end , a lot like a school system where a strict set of guidelines that need to be set and followed. As my apartment is currently being renovated, it will be all done and looking fresh and fabulous, like any lady walking down fifth avenue in Manhattan, for when I leave this intensive station with a healthy body and mind, to start my new life in new surroundings - a fresh-start to my new life. Although the voice will remain, like an alarm clock constantly trying to dictate your life’s schedule; only that I will be stronger and not willing to give into it, that nasty little rascal can rot away up there for all I care. When I leave here, I will leave this hospital ready to embrace my whole life in my new surroundings with a new mindset that centers around this powerful quote.

So I’m here to share it with you bloggers out there because I feel that it’s important to inform others just how horrid eating disorders are, as they are often neglected as being a serious illness, but just look at the statistics. According to the South Carolina Department of Mental Health, eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. A study by the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders reported that 5 – 10% of anorexics die within 10 years after contracting the disease; 18-20% of anorexics will be dead after 20 years and only 30 – 40% ever fully recover. Lastly, 20% of people suffering from anorexia will prematurely die from complications related to their eating disorder, including suicide and heart problems. I find it unfathomable how eating disorders are often pushed aside as minor cases; they should generally be taken more seriously like cancer.

All I can share from personal experience is that it is absolutely and one hundred percent correct. If you do not nourish your body correctly, you will not feel well mentally and might even end up depressed. Last night I had a long, agonizing discussion with the doctor from the station. I’ve been placed here, at the best intensive psychiatric ward of the country, not because I’m not cooperating 110 %, but because my body and all its functions are so ruined and damaged, like the most exquisite and marvelous chocolate box you can think of that you accidentally drop on the street an have a car run over them, leaving them with nothing but the remnants, which in my case, were my bones.

I was skeletal beyond belief, so bony, and so malnourished upon my arrival, that it is still unfathomable for me to grasp, even yet I am incapable of looking at pictures of myself at my lowest point; I documented my story with them so I can never stop bawling my eyes by seeing how far anorexia had me in its grasp. Here’s to list of a few of the severe conditions that have resulted from the mistreated my body for so long. Not only did all my organs start to fail, my liver especially, reaching a value of over 1800, where the normal adult range lies between 5-40 IU/L. My kidney wasn’t looking to great either. Due to coagulopathy throughout my body, my stomach and upper legs turned purple. My blood count is still suffering immensely, as I have significant lack of white blood cells, which made the doctor’s question whether I developed leukemia or not. Thanks to an injection of antibodies into my stomach, the white blood cell level rose again. Not that my red blood cells were any better, as I needed to have two blood transfusions done yesterday. Today I will find out of my blood count and whether or not it is getting better. My messed up blood count is so worrisome that I an still on strict bed rest to ensure that I get in contact with as little toxins as possible. While the organs are starting to heal in a very tiring and agonizing process, I have no clue what to say towards my blood count.

So to close off this post, as you can see from my experience, it is vital to nourish and treat your body like a temple to ensure a stable wellbeing. I genuinely hope that you will never fall victim to one. These disorders are detrimental to your health, regardless of the specific one that has chosen to try to destroy your life.