Flashback and Reasons To Recover

My Disordered World.

December 2012

March 2013

In November 2012, I was diagnosed with an eating disorder- Anorexia. I remember that day clearly- I walked into the doctor's clinic confidently, assuming all I was doing was taking a blood test that would prove that I was healthy despite having been told I'd been looking too skinny for the past few weeks. I was deceived into the appointment; my confidence began to falter as the doctor interrogated me thoroughly about my eating habits, thoughts, mindset, and took my weight. I answered everything honestly, assuming I wasn't going to get into trouble. I remember the doctor setting down his pen, compiling the notes he had been busy scribbling in my folder, looking straight into my eyes and say: "I'm sad to tell you this. But you have an eating disorder. It's anorexia." 


I can still remember how my world fell apart at that exact moment. The exact emotions still resonate throughout me as I type, as I flashback to that day. Shock, horror, disbelief, despair, frustration, all rolled into a ball of flames and thrown straight in my face, leaving me scarred, and in tears. Drop after drop trickled down my face as the doctor continued to ramble on about how I would be banned from all physical activity from that day onwards, how he even suggested hospitalisation. He gave me a detailed meal plan and eagerly set a next appointment date. I swear he looked pleased- that he got another patient perhaps? Meaning more salary for him? I've hated my doctor ever since- he isn't a psychologist, he doesn't have compassion or empathy, much less sympathy for any of his patients. Everything he does is simply following protocol- no compromises, no bargains. I know that I can't blame him- that's his job. But that can't stop me from hating him still, right? He's told me before that I'm one of his most difficult patients, and I've taken that as a compliment. It's just a mutual feeling between us, I suppose we both can't wait to get rid of each other :X

December 2012. In that month alone, I relapsed. I went off track and was helpless. I dropped from my starting weight of 48kg, to a horrifying 44kg. The doctor was flabbergasted and insisted on inpatient, but I fought him off. I wanted to recover too; and eventually he agreed to give me a chance. I managed to put on weight, about 1kg, but it's been slow ever since. I know he's just itching to get me into the hospital ward but I haven't given up just yet. I'm still fighting.

28th March 2013. It's been 3 months, and as you may be able to see from the photos, there's definitely been changes, but not too significant. I've put on less than a kg in these past 3 months, and there's definitely reasons for that. My mind still puts up tough fights, arguments every single day that leave my head throbbing. Right now, I only have one goal in mind- TO RECOVER. I have 2 more weeks till my next appointment with the doctor- in which I have to gain another 1.5kg to be allowed back to light training. I'm a bowler, an athlete, and exercise means more than the world to me. And since I don't really care who's going to be reading this, i'm just going to be completely honest- I have still been doing workouts on some mornings- probably the reason why my weight gain has been so slow. I've also only just begun 90%-100% following of my meal plan; gah the whole thing is really redundant for me to explain and it's complicated, but to conclude I am really dedicated to recovery now, and motivated to recover and gain back to my healthy weight. 

[WARNING:Following photos may be deemed terrifying, appetite-ruining, disgusting. Ignore if you cannot take too gruesome stuff. Don't say I didn't warn you]

Okay, okay, gasp and scream all you want now. I warned you. These photos aren't meant to put you off, nor meant to scare you.(I'm pretty sure it already did, but oh well) This is my reality. The two photos on top, no they don't belong to a gorilla. That's my arm/shoulder. One of the consequences of my eating disorder- growth of lanugo hair(fine hair meant to keep us warm) It wasn't this obvious a couple months back. Now, my arm, back, stomach and hips are covered in this furry coat, deeming me about the same level as an animal. I've researched and found out, though, that once weight restored and in healthy condition, this hair will fall off and cease to exist.
The bottom left photo is my butt bone(is that what it's called?) It protrudes out rudely from my lower back, making it impossible to do exercises like crunches and v-ups without leaving the two bones bruised and aching after that. It also means I can't sit for prolonged periods of time without my butt aching and crying from soreness.
The bottom right photo speaks for itself. Consequences of anorexia, tragic hair loss as the body has insufficient nutrients to continue maintaining the hair cells. Every time I comb through my hair, I find strands loosely falling out; after a bath, even the slightest tug results in an atrocious clump sprawled in my palm. I can't explain the disgust, worry and panic ignited in me each time that happens.

These 3 factors, along with the motivation to be able to exercise, and also to relieve my family's anxiety for me, are the pushing factors leading me through recovery. They are very strong motivational points- each time I have the urge to restrict, all I have to do is turn and look at the hair on my back, and all thoughts would be eliminated and I would scurry to look for food, the most calorie dense food I am willing to take. I'm hoping that with these motivations, I will be able to achieve my target goal of 1.5kg in 3 weeks time. 

Nobody ever said recovery was easy. But nobody ever said it was impossible either. 
There's no more doubt. Only recovery.

And with that, it brings me to the end of a long, first blog post. If anyone reads this, thank you. But it feels good, to finally be able to spill it all out (: It feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders(: To everyone out there who's fighting just like me, stay strong. stay positive. stay truthful. and always believe.

viv xx