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Simone Yemm

Stalked by Demons | Guarded by Angels

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Stories The People You Meet

AN UNFORGETTABLE DAY

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Eating Disorders Mental Health Recovery

BYPASSED

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Depression Mental Health Recovery

WHERE’S MY MOTIVATION?

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Mental Health Recovery

BOUNDARIES

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Mental Health Suicide

TAKING UP SPACE

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Mental Health Recovery The Places You Go

LIFE LESSONS LEARNED ON KINABALU

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The Places You Go

TRAVELS IN SAMBAS

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The People You Meet The Places You Go

MARRIED IN SAMBAS

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Eating Disorders Mental Health Recovery

BOUND TO MY BODY

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About Me Mental Health

PUT AWAY THE MOP

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Eating Disorders Mental Health

SIZE ZERO

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Eating Disorders Mental Health

THIN PRIVILEGE

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About Me The People You Meet

PRECIOUS THINGS

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Hope Mental Health Recovery

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FEARFUL

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Eating Disorders Mental Health Writing

ADVENTURES IN BOOKLAND

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Eating Disorders Mental Health Recovery

TO HEAL OR NOT TO HEAL – THAT IS THE QUESTION

Feb 27, 2017

Anyone who has never experienced mental health issues, probably finds this to be a staggering question – why wouldn’t you want to recover?! Who would want to stay “sick”? Well – I am struggling to heal – and I don’t want to stay sick – but I also can’t seem to recover. Don’t worry – it makes no sense to me either!

Over the course of the past two years, I have been actively seeking support from my psychologist for mental health issues. The biggest priority was my eating disorder – I’ve had disordered eating forever and now that I’m over 50, I’m tired. I’m just sick and tired of it and I desperately want it to change. I feel defeated by it to be honest.

Concurrently with me being in treatment, I developed worsening personal issues that led to a deterioration of my general mental health – depression, anxiety, self-harm and suicidal ideation became daily buzzwords in my life. Over the course of the past year, I feel I’ve made big steps in all those areas – I’m medicated for depression and anxiety and my general level of mood is much higher these days. I no longer fantasise daily about suicide – now it’s just a nostalgic thought. And self-harm is becoming less prevalent – to the point that most of my scars are faded and the incidents of harm are now a month or two apart.

So – that sounds like progress. But my long standing eating disorder? Not so much…

The past two years has seen an escalation in behaviours, and every week that passes I feel worse rather than better. Why?

I have no idea. I really don’t… I understand what to do to recover – I really do! I’m not entirely stupid – despite the obviously idiotic things I do every day. But I am cowardly. And I’m consumed with fear about my weight. In the past two years, it’s become so incredibly normal for me to despise any morsel of food that passes my lips. It’s incredibly normal for me to purge food as soon as I eat it – for fear it will go down and stay down and as a result I’ll “get fat”.

I’ve developed habits I didn’t have five years ago – starve myself a day or two, start binging and purging for several days, escalate it to the point I’m exhausted and sore, try to get back “in control” and be a bit “normal”, then do it all again the following week. Week in and week out. Yet instead of engaging in the healthy steps of recovery, I feel worse. I find I can’t do it. I can’t stop eating. I can’t stop binging. I can’t stop purging. Until I start restricting. Which I can only do until somebody notices and then the cycle begins again.

In addiction circles, there is often talk of “rock bottom” and I often wonder where the rock is. How do you know when you’re at the bottom? Can I get worse? Probably… Will I get worse? I hope not… Do I think I’ll get worse? Possibly… What will stop me? I have no idea… Do I want to heal? Yes – I really, really do. Do I know how? There is a missing link in my big chain of recovery tools, that I am still searching for. Still searching…

Eating Disorders Mental Health

VOICES

Feb 15, 2017

There’s a war in my head. Some days it gets so loud in there it gives me a headache. A real one. The voice nattering incessantly in my ear is not a healthy voice. It’s a familiar one. It feels like a safe one. But that voice is an expert manipulator, liar and thief.

There’s another little voice in the dark – the voice of reason and wisdom, sense and sensibility – but that voice is weak and timid. It has never learned to stand up to the manipulator.

The manipulator has learned how to mimic the voice of reason. Some days I hear myself saying I should (or shouldn’t) eat this (or that) and I can’t quite tell which voice is talking. Are you trying to trick me? Or heal me? I just don’t know.

It may seem I’m schizophrenic. I’m not. I have a few mental health issues as I’ve mentioned before, but I’m confident schizophrenia is not one of them. I’m sure we all have little voices whispering away in our heads. The voice that whispers away in my head is very unhealthy though. The origins are with my mother, and that voice is full of fear. It encourages me to override any ounce of logic I may have when it comes to good health and nutrition, by reminding me I’m fat. That if I get fat, I’m unworthy and a failure. That any food I consume is making me fat. The tiniest morsel of anything feels like failure.

The voice of reason knows this is not true. It is in fact absurd. That good health and nutrition and a healthy body at a healthy weight are achieved through regular consumption of nutritious meals in moderate portions and leading an active lifestyle. I know all this. I have known this for a long time. I was raised with an awareness of good health and I have been surrounded by family and friends all my life who lead healthy lifestyles through good nutrition and regular exercise. I know the theory and I’ve seen the practice. Yet the little manipulator nibbles away at my confidence and plays the “just for today/this week/until you’re this weight” game. Telling me to delay the implementation of common sense until I’ve achieved some unachievable goal through unsustainable means.

In an effort to let the voice of reason become stronger, and to deny the voice of manipulation its power, I have spent the first months of this year trying to do as my support team suggested. I have tried to stop self-harming (one of the tools I use to control my food intake) and to stop restricting. All that happened however is I’ve returned to a pattern of binging and purging instead. And gaining weight. And with that weight gain, the manipulating voice has started screaming in my ear that I have to get on top of things. NOW! So I started restricting again. Because it feels like they’re my only options – binge or restrict.

Now, of course, the voice of reason knows this is not the case – the vast majority of the human race do not swing from one to the other – but for me, this is what happens.

I sincerely hope that at least by recognising the insanity of my behaviours, and the profoundly negative impact the manipulative little voice has, I have taken the first step towards recovery.

I sincerely hope one day I can win the war. That I can know for sure when the voice of reason is talking, and to know how to listen to it without fear. Until then, I keep listening, and wondering, who is talking to me?

Depression Fatigue Mental Health Sleep Disorders

WEARY

Feb 9, 2017

Today I want to sleep.

I want to go to sleep and never wake up. To luxuriate in the endless bliss of nothingness. I want to be free from physical pain. Free from exhaustion. I don’t want to feel worried or anxious or guilty or afraid. I don’t want to be fat and old and lost and weary. I just want to rest. To slip into eternal, blissful rest.

My body is tired. I am fit and well. But I am physically exhausted. There is no reason. It just is.

My soul is tired. There is no reason. It just is.

I don’t feel particularly depressed or anxious. I don’t feel sad or teary or stressed or worried – no more than any other day. I just don’t want to be. My psychiatrist would say, “That’s pretty fucking depressed!” Because he’s a straight talker and there’s no confusing what he means. So, I guess I must be pretty fucking depressed. I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything much today. I’m just terribly, terribly weary.

Don’t worry. I am not suicidal. I am not unsafe.

Please don’t contact the police to track me down and interrupt my day. I am not going to do anything permanent – or even temporary. I am just dreaming of endless dreams.

Today I need to spend time searching and applying for work – we are in dire financial straits and I must find a job. Today I need to clean out the spare bedroom so my much beloved and sorely missed firstborn child can move back in for the next six months. Today I need to clean and tidy. To write more articles. To follow up on my business plan. Contact friends, wash the car and sort out my paperwork. I have no will or energy to do anything.

Today I want to sleep.

Anxiety Mental Health

PLEASE LIKE ME

Feb 8, 2017

I can’t know for sure how anxiety manifests for other people – and to be honest, it’s only in recent months I acknowledged I have my own manifestations – but apparently, I have anxiety. With a capital A. As I’m currently feeling extremely anxious, now is a good time to put thoughts and observations down on “paper” …

The biggest and most obvious way anxiety appears in my everyday life, is my need to be liked. I cannot bear the thought I might do or say something to cause someone to think ill of me. I’m left with a pounding heart, shaking hands, incapable of speech and on the verge of tears. Socially this is difficult. I’m happy and comfortable around friends I have known for decades. I can say and share anything and we have a level of trust and support, friendship and love that balances any fear I may have. I am still nervous about saying the wrong thing, but I trust the consequences won’t be devastating – we listen, we learn, we forgive, we move on. But outside that close network it’s trickier. In work situations, it’s much trickier. In casual social outings or being introduced to strangers it’s very tricky. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I haven’t read their vibe and personality correctly? What if they judge me before they know me? The first mountain I must conquer at work is to become liked by my colleagues. It’s not hard in my current employment – there aren’t a lot of colleagues and I like them all. If I practice my listening skills, quickly master the tasks I’m set, be kind and considerate and friendly and enthusiastic, then with a little bit of luck, they might like me. At the very least they won’t hate me.
I don’t know where my fear of being disliked came from. Perhaps it was my mother always worrying, “What would the neighbours think?!” Perhaps it was learning as a youngster that other people’s feelings are more important than my own. Perhaps it is my nature, not my nurture that makes me paranoid. Who knows?! It doesn’t really matter in the end – I am nice to everyone so they might be nice to me.
This anxiety also brings a major fear of conflict. I don’t fight. Ever. I will stand up for my beliefs. I can have a discussion with an alternate point of view. But I won’t fight with you. I can’t do it. You can yell and scream at me until you’re blue in the face, and I will stand frozen to the spot trying to die a little on the inside and chanting, “This too shall pass” silently in my head. If major conflict arises in the workplace I will probably resign. I’ve done it before. I would do it again. It shames me to say that. I feel like I have no emotional fortitude, but I can’t do conflict. Unfortunately, there are also times when my pathological fear of conflict, wars with my pathological need to be responsible – to care for others and defend those who can’t defend themselves. In a group setting, I steer clear of conflict – at any cost. But in a group setting, I also need to ensure everyone feels heard and understood and represented. Sometimes I will speak up – usually at a high personal cost. I will choose personal humiliation and grief over abandoning my moral compass which leaves me in a lose-lose situation. I become extremely anxious and distressed regardless of which path I choose.
I also fear failure. While being disliked is a big failure, there are many others – fear of auditions and interviews, fear of gaining weight, running late or making any mistake whatsoever have been a major theme throughout my life. But perhaps all these fears hark back to the first? If I stuff up and someone notices, perhaps they won’t like me. Perhaps they’ll think less of me, be cranky with me, consider me stupid, inept, unkind or unethical. Just writing that down increases my heart rate.
Everyday life normally trots on by okay for me. I don’t have major panic attacks. When things are going well, I manage these fears the same way I manage all my other emotions – I ignore them. Every single day is scattered with a thousand little moments of fear I try to ignore. There’s no relaxation or down time until I’m curled up in my pyjamas on my bed. And to calm the chaos in my head, I’ve become extremely adept at organising the chaos around me.
When everyday life throws curve balls, that’s when my anxiety quickly skyrockets. And when the rockets are skyward bound, that’s when thoughts of self-harm and disordered eating behaviours flare out of control.
The past 48 hours have been extremely stressful. There’s been a communication breakdown with a group of online friends. The bickering and bad blood led me to extract myself from the group – like conflict in the workplace, I have effectively resigned and run away. And today I will be supporting one of my children as they face the consequences of a really poor decision. I am terrified. Terrified for him. Terrified of the future and the consequences. I spent the past two months trying not to think about it, to be positive and hoping for the best. But today is truth day and has the potential to impact my little family in a big way. The unknown is a bad place for me to be and it is easy to yearn for old coping behaviours that numb difficult emotions and still those runaway thoughts.
I read somewhere that 2017 is the Year of the Rooster, and that after the pesky Monkey messed around with everything last year, the Rooster will bring good luck and prosperity. I am depending on that little Rooster to calm my nerves and create a positive mindset so my anxious thoughts can settle and not escalate. This Too Shall Pass…
Anxiety Eating Disorders Mental Health

FULL FUNCTION

Feb 2, 2017

I have an eating disorder. I don’t have any problem with this label – I am bulimic. I have been bulimic (on and off) for 30 years. I have had disordered eating all my life.

I have depression. I don’t have any problem with this label. I don’t know if I’ve always been depressed? Perhaps I have, perhaps I haven’t. But most certainly, for the past two years I have been experiencing a major depressive episode.
I have anxiety. I sort of acknowledge this? I sort of don’t. I don’t always feel it’s a big deal. But then sometimes I think it’s a very big deal. I struggle with this label. I have been through periods of time where anxiety was a major issue, but most of the time I don’t notice it. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s not there, or if it’s because it’s milder and I have just used different labels for anxiety (stress, worry, nerves, shyness etc).
Despite all these labels, I function perfectly well. There was a time last year where everything collided and I fell in a pit and really, I wasn’t functioning at all well. In fact, in many ways I was near death. I was still getting to work (only ten hours a week) and could drag myself out of bed to get to gym and could slap an exhausted smile across my face for short periods of time. But I was fast losing the ability to even manage that when I was hospitalised.
I still have major depression and I still have majorly disordered eating, but if you ran into me in the street you wouldn’t know. I function well. I’m in a healthy weight range. I can get out of bed and work and exercise and cook meals. I can do anything I need to do – despite feeling outrageously fatigued all day every day. So to many people, it’s no big deal. I’m fine. I function, therefore my depression and my eating disorder are not problematic.
Is that true though? I don’t believe so.
A lot of people hold stereotypical images in their heads of mental illness:
•    Alcoholic: an old man lying on a park bench with a bottle in a brown paper bag
•    Anorexic: a skeletal woman, near death, with a drip and a nasogastric tube
•    Depressive: unshowered, crying, lying in bed all day with no capacity to get out
•    Addict: lives in a filthy squat, semiconscious with track marks up their arms
•    Schizophrenic: homeless in a railway station, humming about aliens
And all of these scenarios might be true. For some people. But in reality they are the end stage of severe illnesses, and the vast majority of people living with any kind of mental illness, are doing so invisibly. They are functioning well in society, living day to day, working, contributing, socialising, raising families – doing what everyone else is doing – with a great deal of difficulty and a great deal of hidden emotional pain. And more often than not, a great deal of exhaustion – physical and psychological – that makes it often nigh on impossible to enjoy life. But they scrape by.
Worse still, there are people who are anorexic, alcoholic, depressed, addicted to (pick a substance), or have a major mental health issue, and because they can “function” they refuse to believe they have a problem. They may in fact, wait until they’re at that end stage scenario before acknowledging there’s an issue – when it may very well be too late. The physical and psychological damage will be almost irreparable. The social and economic consequences might be devastating. And beautiful, sensitive, healthy, contributing members of our society, will be lost to us, because they believed getting to work each day, being in a healthy weight range, providing meals for their family, or just getting out of bed and having a shower, means they weren’t sick enough. The problem wasn’t big enough. Or perhaps they believed, the problem wasn’t there at all.
They’re wrong.
We’re all wrong.
We need to look out for the person who can get to work every day, but is too exhausted to read a book.
We need to nurture the person who is in a healthy weight range, but hates everything about their physical self and will go on any diet they think will cut another kilo or two – to make them “happy”.
We need to talk to that friend who uses illicit drugs and/or alcohol to “relax” at the end of each day.
As a society, we need to care for not just those who are on the verge of death because of their mental illness. We need to care much, much earlier. Not for a day. Not for a week. But for months and years. We don’t develop an eating disorder or severe depression or alcoholism in a week. It’s not going to go away in a week. It takes years. If ever… And it takes a village. Those with mental health issues need the same support that those with physical health issues need – doctors, therapists, pharmacists, friends, families, colleagues, neighbours. Society.
And if as a society, we nurtured those in the earlier stages of illness, perhaps those “high functioning” addicts and depressives, those people with hidden and invisible mental illness, would feel okay about acknowledging their issues much earlier on. Because the earlier the problem is tackled, the better the outcome.
In the inimitable words of that wonderful philosopher, Dr Phil, “You cannot change, what you do not acknowledge.”
Eating Disorders Fatigue Mental Health Sleep Disorders

REASONS

Feb 1, 2017

My psychologist talked about recovery, and I said (amongst other things), what’s in it for me? Which sounds appallingly self-interested – because it is! But it is the crux of my recovery issue. Everything I do in my life, is for other people – even my recovery. And without having intrinsic reasons to travel this rocky road, it is nigh on impossible to keep trudging along.

So this morning, indulging in self-care by lying in late and having breakfast in bed, I started thinking about my recovery. The support and encouragement I receive. All the people who want to see me “get better”. And I want to do it for them, but I also have to figure out what’s in it for me. So here we go – ten reasons for me to recover.
1. HAIR
I may not be – or have ever been – underweight. But the stress of poor nutrition and constant vomiting and my body not knowing whether it’s going to be fed or not, has caused me to lose half my hair. My once thick, red curls, are now thin and sparse. And alongside thin, sparse hair, I have brittle fingernails for the same reason. So top of my reasons to recover, is the pursuit of a lush head of hair and strong fingernails.
2. DIGESTION
Do you have any idea how constipating bulimia is?! Perhaps it isn’t a big issue for other people? I don’t know… But it’s a massive issue for me. And as someone who weighs themselves on a daily basis (haven’t kicked that habit), being constipated is often a very depressing start to the day. At the risk of delving into the “too much information” category, it is normal for me to “go” just once or twice a week. And that’s with taking fibre supplements. Without them I’d probably never go again. I’ve started taking extra medications and fibre supplements which work at least every other day. My body is no doubt prone to sluggish digestion regardless, but eating disorders do nothing to alleviate the problem. I sometimes think I should write a book called, “I poo pebbles”.
3. WARMTH
Body temperature is adversely affected by poor nutrition. While restricting, and particularly being underweight, cause you to feel really cold – all the time – even purging and poor diet can make your body temperature waver erratically. In my experience! When I’m well nourished (you know – for a few hours here and there) I seem to experience temperature the way other people do. When I’m not, I’m freezing my butt off when others are stripping their jackets off. Or I’m curled up in bed sweating like a trooper despite the air-con being on. My temperature regulation is quite frequently useless.
4. ENERGY
Mental health is exhausting. You have no idea unless you’ve been through it, exactly what fatigue is. It’s not being tired. It’s not just feeling a bit unmotivated or lethargic. It starts in your soul and seeps through your pores and no amount of rest can make it go away. This is not me. When I was young (long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…) I was bouncy and hyperactive and functioned extremely well on next to no sleep – for years on end. I was motivated and a doer and I was filled with vitality and hope and energy and drive. Depression took that from me. Bulimia took that from me. I want it back thank you very much.
5. HEALTH
I don’t want to be unhealthy. I am acutely aware – and routinely reminded – that my behaviours damage my health in both the short and long term. In addition to hair loss and fatigue, poor nutrition and purging puts a strain on most of the body – heart, stomach, oesophagus, teeth – just to name a few. I don’t want a stomach ulcer. I don’t want to have a heart attack. I don’t want my teeth to fall out. I’d like to be healthy. Recovery will contribute to good health. Well, by that I mean, not recovering will lead to bad health…
6. MONEY
All that food I eat, then purge, then I eat again, then purge some more, is just money quite literally being flushed down the toilet. All these mental health issues mean frequent trips to the doctor, sessions with a therapist, appointments with psychiatrists, prescription medications and holistic treatments. Books and support groups. It all costs money. Money I could spend on holidays. Or shoes. Or really nice underwear. Money that is going down the toilet…
7. SOCIALISING
So much of our socialising in life involves food. And while I am primarily bulimic, not anorexic, so I do eat in social situations, there is no pleasure in it. There is just fear and horror and disgust and self-loathing. Who wants that?! I can barely even imagine what it would be like to go out for a meal with friends and just choose enjoyable foods without having to figure out the best way to purge it quickly, or to avoid eating in front of everyone altogether. Other people seem to get enjoyment from social eating. I want to join the party.
8. SHAME
Well – lack of shame. My life is one big ball of shame. And that is exhausting. I feel ashamed when I eat. I feel ashamed when I don’t. I feel ashamed when I purge. I feel ashamed about my weight. And about work, fatigue, procrastination, mistakes and every other little thing that isn’t “perfect”. I know that recovery won’t cure it all – but if I could at least eradicate all sense of shame from my food and eating behaviours, my life would be a very, very different place.
9. PEACE
While I too hope for world peace, on a level much closer to home, I’d like to find some inner peace. Some serenity. To not have every ounce of my day consumed with thoughts of when can I eat, what should I eat, can I avoid eating, how should I eat, will anyone notice, how fat I am, how can I get rid of this food. The list goes on and on and on and on. It’s mentally exhausting. It never ends. I don’t know how to repeat that statement in enough ways to demonstrate the insanity of the interminable food thoughts that pound through my head, day in and day out. My entire life. It’s not peaceful.
10. HAPPINESS
Not the same as peace. Without peace, I can’t have happiness, but I yearn for that sense of positivity. Of joy in life. Pleasure in the things I do and the people I meet. All the energy taken up with eating and purging and restricting and shame and food avoidance sucks all the happiness away. Imagine all the time I would have for thinking about other things, and doing them, if I wasn’t trapped in a world of endless food.