HOW CAN I TELL IF I’M WELL

When I have a cold, it’s obvious I’m sick. And when it goes away, it’s obvious it’s gone.
When I have depression, it’s not obvious to anyone – even me. And when it goes away, how am I going to know?
It was clear as a summer’s day when my depression hit rock bottom. I was fatigued, despondent, without hope, alienated, withdrawn, fragile, anxious, starving myself, self-harming and lacking self-care. I am not in that place any more, something for which I am eternally grateful.
But it is a long road from rock bottom to fully recovered. I don’t know what fully recovered looks like and I actually have no idea how far I’ve travelled down the road.
Some days I still feel fatigue – not as much as I used to, but still more than I should.
I have occasional days of feeling despondent and hopeless, but it is no longer relentless and perpetual.
I don’t feel alienated and withdrawn. I reached out and continue to do so. I am writing, talking and sharing as much as I can. Even when I can’t bear to do it.
I still feel incredibly fragile and anxious. The slightest error or conflict and I’m panicking, teary and wanting to run away, hide under a rock and never emerge. I don’t like being so precious – I want to feel more resilient and emotionally stronger.
I have stopped starving myself – everyone else seems very happy about this. I am now binging and purging instead. I don’t think anyone is happy about that – myself included.
My self-harm is very rare and my self-care is pretty jolly good.
So at what point can I say I’m no longer depressed? When am I recovered from depression? Is it when I stop medication and feel no different? Is it when I no longer experience anxiety? When I feel stronger? If I overcome my eating disorder? How do I tell?
Perpetual happiness is as unnatural as perpetual sadness. Relentless energy is as unnatural as relentless fatigue. Yet somewhere there is a middle ground of healthy and balanced. And it is that midway point I would like to find.
Recovery – as everyone keeps mentioning – is not linear. It’s a shame. But it’s true.

TRIGGERED

I’ve been triggered. My bulimic behaviours are regressing.

THIS IS BOTH GOOD AND BAD

Bad, because I’ve fallen deep into the well of binging and purging, and even slipped into self-harm hell. Good, because the trigger has been the anticipation of me commencing a course I have a really good feeling about.

I sometimes feel the ED is a solid, tangible, physical, separate part of me. And when I come across another piece of the recovery puzzle – something I believe is actually going to progress me a little further away from illness and propel me closer to wellness – my ED panics. It flexes its’ muscles and says, “Look at me! I’m stronger than you! I’m not leaving!”

My anxiety levels this past week have felt really high. My hands shaky, my heart racy, my thoughts panicky. I have drifted back to wondering when will it all end – how beautiful it would be to not exist. I have no plans, and no plans to make plans. I am safe. I promise. But eating disordered thinking is insidious, and it would rather see me dead than well.

I frequently feel I’ve made no progress with my bulimia recovery. I stay the same, or get worse. But I am starting to wonder if there has been one small, but highly significant, improvement. I can hear the voice of reason. It is not strong.

IT IS NOT CONFIDENT

But it is now talking, and ever so gently, challenging the ED voice.

I have been triggered this week, but perhaps this will be the last party for my eating disorder. Perhaps – with a little bit of hope, prayer, and magic pixie dust – the voice of recovery will emerge stronger and more powerful. Perhaps this is the beginning of recovery.

IS THIS NORMAL?

Am I normal or different? Am I sick or healthy?
I have no fricking idea…
I feel normal. I’ve always been like this. This IS my normal – I don’t know any different.
Normal for me is having no capacity to identify emotions. Obsessing with food and body image all day – and all night – long. Normal for me is binging, purging and restricting – or white knuckling to stop binging, purging and restricting. Normal is worrying about stuff. Having random bursts of racing heart and catastrophising about little things. Feeling positive and optimistic for a while, and having energy and being productive, then wanting to harm myself and dreaming of never having to wake up again and believing my life is pointless. Then reminding myself I’m just having a bit of downer and picking myself up again. That’s all normal for me.
I don’t feel sick – mentally or physically. I’ve been sick in the past – both mentally and physically – and right now I feel good. My immune system is basically excellent (usually). Mentally I am managing really well (I think). I am not currently noticing issues with depression or anxiety. I don’t have a cold or a bug or any identifiable physical issues – aside from pain in my back and legs related to my hypermobility. And that pain is both manageable and reversible. So I feel like I’m healthy and well.
And if I’m normal and healthy – what the hell am I doing obsessing about mental health? Writing blog posts and searching through websites about ways to recover. What am I recovering from, if I’m normal and healthy?
Which leads me to believe, I am neither normal nor healthy.
The word normal is problematic. Whatever we grow up with, is normal. How we behave every day, is normal. It is OUR individual normal. That doesn’t make it okay. And normal can change. Once upon a time it was normal for me to buy three mars bars every time I bought petrol – now I pay for the fuel and leave without purchasing anything else. My new normal. Recovery for me, will be a big long list of new normals.
Intellectually I understand that while my physical health remains very good, my mental health is still problematic. Sure my issues with depression are vastly improved – I am functioning and participating in life again. My issues with anxiety are no longer at the forefront – I have once again buried and renamed them. My eating disorder issues have risen to the top of my list of things to worry about and need to be healed. Because if it continues, my physical health will definitely suffer.
So am I normal? Yes. Normal for me.
Am I different? Yes. Different to you. And that is neither good nor bad. We are all different.
Am I sick? Physically, no. Mentally, I don’t know. I find this so problematic. I don’t feel sick enough to belong to the mental health community. I don’t feel well enough to accept my life as it is. I don’t know where I belong.

BUCKET LIST

I mentioned a few weeks ago that it’s time I wrote a bucket list. So here I go… Things I want to achieve before my days expire – in no particular order…

1. Get a tattoo √
2. Make a difference in my job
3. Publish something – professionally 😀
4. Go back to uni
5. Live in a house that is FINISHED!!
6. Travel to: Europe, South America and back to Vietnam
7. Do the grey nomad thing with my husband
8. Watch all my children graduate from university (two to go…)
9. Meet all my grandbabies (haven’t got any at all yet…)
10. Recover from bulimia…

THE METAPHORICAL FENCE

I feel like I’m perched on a metaphorical fence – staring down at recovery, staring down at illness, and trying to decide – which way do I go?
While perched on the fence, I can dangle my feet on both sides, but in order to progress one way or the other – for better or for worse – I have to get off the fence, and leave the other option behind.
I am truly blessed to have this option. I really am. There are a great many people who have varying mental health issues, with varying degrees of severity, who are not in a position to fully recover.
I am fortunate in that for me it actually is an option. Not an easy option – but an option none-the-less. I have been through a period of major depression and anxiety, but both are now fairly well managed through a variety of means and circumstances. With a little more work, diligence and acceptance, I can expect to recover and lead a life predominantly free from depression. Anxiety will be something I may have to manage throughout my life – but it is not severe or debilitating and I now at least recognise it for what it is.
My eating disorder is more problematic – more deeply entrenched and more serious. But it too is an option. I can choose recovery. I didn’t choose to be ill, to learn poor coping mechanisms, to bury my emotions, to hate my body, or to have a poor relationship with food. But I can choose to recover.
So why don’t I?
Jumping off that fence into recovery is a BIG leap. And will mean forever walking away from a road that has been incredibly familiar and comfortable.
Having an eating disorder may be as miserable as all hell, but if I hadn’t been getting something out of it, I would never have gone there in the first place. I have gained a lot through my illness…

• A way to control my weight
• A means to numb emotion
• Stress management
• A chance to “have my cake and eat it too”
• An identity

A safe, familiar, comforting place that has been my only home for 51 years. Sure – it’s depressing, exhausting, shameful, unhealthy and potentially deadly… But there is a lot to be said for feeling comfort in the familiar.
If I choose to move away from the road to recovery, to jump off my fence and accept a life where I routinely binge, purge and restrict my way through the day, I also need to accept my relationships will become damaged, my health will deteriorate, my emotions will remain numbed, and there is a high risk of me dying prematurely from possible complications. It is highly unlikely this side of the fence will bring me peace and joy and a life filled with purpose and hope. It does seem strangely enticing – but I believe that is because I don’t understand recovery. I have no experience of it.
I have been dabbling in the recovery waters for a couple of years now and feel I have exhausted so many possibilities. I feel I am incredibly resistant to the change – I can’t explain why. Not to you, and not to myself. I have made a financial commitment to an eight-week course commencing next week, and I feel this is one of the last possibilities for exploring recovery. I have a good feeling about it – but there are no guarantees in life.
I do know that everyone else wants me to recover. I’m sure they want me to recover because they believe it is the best thing for me. I know that I want to recover to make other people happy, but that is not enough. Recovery must have intrinsic motivations or it just doesn’t work – believe me I have tried to recover for others. It doesn’t happen…
So here I am – staring down at both sides of the fence. Knowing I have made positive moves in the right direction for recovery- enough that I have reached the crossroads – the metaphorical fence – and now I must decide. I have a choice. I need to make my choice, accept, and stop procrastinating.
 

FAITH

I know I keep saying this – but I have awesome friends. Beautiful, caring, supportive, empathetic people who choose to be in my world. I love them all to bits!

Some don’t believe in God. Some believe in a Higher Power, Angels, or the Universe. Many have no specific spiritual faith at all.

My personal spiritual beliefs have no basis in religion, I don’t believe in a God or Higher Powers or organised religion, but I do believe in Angels and the Universe. This is the beauty of Faith – no evidence required. Just a personal belief there is “something” and that something provides comfort and a guiding hand. It is fascinating to hear discussions on God. Or the Universe. Higher Powers. Angels. And to hear references to intuition and instinct.

It seems to me, we are all talking about the same thing.

I have always felt deeply intuitive. I get a really strong feeling deep in my gut that I should, or shouldn’t, do something. It is a tangible, powerful feeling, buried in my core.

When my second child was born, I could not bring myself to vaccinate him on schedule. My maternal instinct was screaming, No! Don’t do it! Just wait! And so I did. I waited until he was six months old and then instead of vaccines that protected against three diseases simultaneously, I insisted he was vaccinated one disease at a time. He reacted to every one. Not terribly – just a little sick each time. He was fully vaccinated and on schedule by the time he was three, but my intuition screamed he was too sensitive to cope with multiple vaccines at six weeks of age. I still believe that intuition was correct.

I can’t prove it – that is what faith is.

If I had a strong belief in God, I am sure I would say God had spoken and led me to delay those injections. If I believed in Higher Powers, I’m sure I would attribute the instinct to a guiding hand. Instead I believe in intuition and instinct, and deep in my gut I knew what to do.

What is the difference? When a friend says God spoke to her, and that God’s word guides her decisions, I believe her. I think we both feel the same thing but give it a different name.

Do we all have a sixth sense that guides us? Some call that sense God, others call it intuition.

This sense has nothing to do with religion. Nothing whatsoever. Organised religion incorporates faith and a belief in God, with rules, guidelines and structured beliefs that may or may not support instinct. Organised religion involves an external force guiding actions and beliefs. This is neither good nor bad – it simply is. But it does open up the possibility for abuse of power. Of all the people that guide members in religious faiths around the world, I’m sure the vast majority are beautiful, kind, intelligent, respectful individuals, and unfortunately it is the small minority who abuse power that make it to news headlines and viral internet memes.

Religion and spirituality can be two completely different things.

I have met deeply religious people with no sense of spirituality. I have met deeply spiritual people with no sense of religion.

Religion is a person sitting in church thinking about kayaking.

Spirituality is a person in a kayak thinking about God.

So true huh?! The two are not mutually exclusive. Religious individuals can be deeply spiritual. These musings are not meant to cast aspersions upon anyone with strong religious beliefs. There are non-religious people with no spirituality. I firmly believe however, we all have a voice of intuition, and that voice may be called God, Higher Power, Universe, Angels or any name we might choose to give it.

We all have so much more in common than most of us believe. I feel it in my gut. God, Higher Powers, Angels and the Universe are all telling me so.

Perhaps the inner voice that guides our hand is universally the same, but individually we have attributed a different name to it. Perhaps – we are all the same.