I FELL OFF MY PERCH

I so want to write an inspirational, positive post today. But that would be a lie. And I don’t like lying.

I have so many positives happening in my life right now – it is a pretty cruisey experience to be honest.

WHICH IS GOOD – I LIKE CRUISEY

I feel so well – mentally, emotionally, physically – and when you’re 55 years old there’s a lot to be said for good health. It should never be taken for granted. I also have a couple of positive opportunities appearing in my world right now, which may or may not result in exciting things but regardless, opportunities are always a blessing and I’m grateful.

But simultaneous to all this positivity, I have been triggered. (I am learning to hate that word.) You would think after all this time that I would be used to managing difficult emotions and situations, but a small incident has flipped me on my head and my eating disorder is struggling. Well, let’s be honest here – today it is winning.

I am long past compensatory behaviours – it is about a year since I last purged and even that was an aberration. Regular purging has not been a part of my life for a couple of years. Ditto for self-harm. It hasn’t been a smooth ride for dropping either of those coping mechanisms but they feel like past history for me. Which is a good thing. Right?! I cannot promise what tomorrow will hold, none of us can, but for today I am confident I am done with purging and self-harm.

But the body image stuff I’ve been banging on about for months is still rearing its nasty little head.

FOR A BRIEF MOMENT IN TIME, I FELT COMFORTABLE IN MY BODY

Almost. Perhaps comfortable is the wrong word but I was very accepting of where things were. And I was definitely confident that living in a larger body was the preferable alternative to living with an eating disorder. I still believe that in my head, but my heart is ruling right now. I am not at home in my body and a few small things happened in a row and then I had a mental flip-out.

I don’t feel like I’m mentally unwell – perhaps that’s called denial? I don’t know. I’m not the best person to make that decision. But my mood is not low and I feel stable. My anxiety has been very well controlled for a long time. So much so that my psychologist has commented numerous times on how noticeable the difference is. My startle reflex is a lot less startling. But in the past week, I’ve reverted to old eating disorder behaviours and all the arguments in my head aren’t heading in a positive direction right now.

I’M SURE THIS TOO SHALL PASS

Things always change. Sometimes for better and sometimes for worse. Life is a complicated, flowy experience and nothing stands still. I know this. I have been in this place before and things changed. I have been in much, much darker places and things changed.

I left the clinic on Monday 11 May 2020. It was like a post-apocalyptic world with the chaos that is covid enveloping the world. But for me, it was a positive day. The day my life began to take shape and the day I really started to recover – from depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation and an eating disorder. Things really have improved since then but still – it’s not a flawless process and sometimes I wonder if these things will plague me for a lifetime. Always just sitting in the back of my mind, waiting for an opportunity to spring forth.

I think it is important to point out that behaviour is different to emotion. It is rarely feasible to change emotions, stress or trauma, but with time we can learn different behavioural strategies to cope. And it is those coping strategies I have worked on the most.

BUT I AM NOT PERFECT

As my grandmother liked to point out every time she saw me. Striving for perfectionism has not served me well in the past so I am trying to learn a lot of forgiveness for myself. And in the current situation I find myself in, self-recrimination will not help. All I can do is keep seeking out healthier coping strategies and remember to believe in myself. My greatest coping strategy has always been writing. So here I am – sharing my upside-down view of the world from my fallen perch.

THE SADS

I’m on holiday 🙂

This holiday has been in the pipeline for months and then all of a sudden covid was back on attack in Australia and every state started to lockdown and close their borders. We weren’t sure if we were going to get here and once we got here, will we get back?! I’ll find out next tuesday.

But we did get here and I’m enjoying the beautiful blue skies along with the cold rainy days in Adelaide’s rolling hills. Like so many people in the past 15 months, it has been a long time since I got away. It’s good to be here.

BUT IT’S ALSO REALLY SAD

My recovery is strong and well but the more time that passes, the more I realise how much I’ve lost. I’ve lost people and places and opportunities. One of the things I’ve lost is the ability to socialise. I can still do it, but it drains the living hell out of me.

I am travelling with very close friends. We have known each other so long and travelled together so often that they are basically family to me. We don’t need to “make conversation” with each other – we just talk because that’s what families do. And sometimes it’s silent because that’s what families do. We open drawers and cupboards without asking, to look for a spoon and a bowl, because that’s what families do. We can wander around in pyjamas with no bras on. We’re just comfortable in each other’s company. And that doesn’t drain me.

But because we’re on holiday we go off doing holiday things and I look forward to it but then come to realise how difficult socialisation has become. Talking to the sales girls. Trying clothes on. Making payments. Ordering food. Passing people in the street. Chatting to the wine tour guide. Meeting the wine tasting experts. Every time I’m out of the house I have to make conversation. It takes so much out of me and I feel so feeble.

I REMEMBER A TIME WHEN I DID THIS WITH EASE

And I miss that. I could hang out with people all the time – make everyone feel comfortable and listened to. Hear people’s stories. I love hearing people’s stories. Years of practice with school teaching and performing and counselling and working left me very comfortable spending time with people.

Since 2015 I have been in a mental health decline and one of the consequences is my inability to maintain social connections. I keep thinking it will change but I have come to realise that getting older is contributing to my unease and I won’t be getting any younger any time soon. As we age there is a slow withdrawal from society – because it’s just plain exhausting. So this change in energy levels feels fairly permanent.

It’s like the old me is being wiped from the face of the earth and I have to discover the new me. Which is neither good nor bad. Better nor worse. Like so many things in life, it simply is.

Realising how different and how tired I am has cast a veil of malaise over my holiday. Which I would like to very quickly point out is not a recovery failure. Recovering from a mental health breakdown is not about never being sad again. Life brings all the emotions and situations that it always has. The difference in recovery is how I respond to uncomfortable emotions and situations.

AND MY GO-TO RECOVERY TOOL IS WRITING – SO HERE WE ARE

For six years now I’ve struggled with varying levels of depression and anxiety, accompanying my eating disorder behaviours. Tie into that my extreme sleep issues and I ended up swinging from manically high to desperately low. Medication has stabilised those extreme emotions so I’m very stable these days. But like everyone else, I have fluctuations. And coming away on holiday with close friends has brought about a juxtaposition of the joy and familiarity of being with people I love, and the sadness at realising I don’t know who I am anymore. And I don’t know when I’ll know.

MOMENTARY RELIEF FOR PART 1: STRETCHES FOR MY RESTLESS LEGS

One of the first, and most prolific, things I do when my restless legs are restless, is to stretch. I find stretching offers wonderful – albeit very short-lived – relief and is something I can do anywhere, anytime.

Not only does stretching momentarily relieve my RLS symptoms, but it also increases flexibility and mobility which is good for my overall wellbeing.

Movements I can do anywhere

Restless legs syndrome (RLS) can occur almost anywhere on the body, but as the name suggests, it is most commonly experienced in the legs. So that is where I stretch. I start with stretches I think of as “hidden” – movements I can do anywhere without calling attention to myself.

Sitting in the cinema, stuck on an aeroplane, travelling in a car. Any place where lolling around on the floor is considered awkward and not really socially acceptable.

To continue reading please visit:

https://restlesslegssyndrome.sleep-disorders.net/living/stretches/

Image and links courtesy of Health Union and Restless Legs Syndrome Health Info & Community (sleep-disorders.net)

RED CAR SYNDROME

There’s a thing called red car syndrome. Who knew?!

[Although now I’ve googled and discovered it was originally called blue car syndrome, but I don’t have a blue car photo so I’m going with red car syndrome.]

It’s the phenomenon where you don’t notice how many red cars there are out there until you decide you want to buy one – and then all of a sudden they’re everywhere.

I remember when I was first pregnant – with a pregnancy I lost a short time later – and it seemed like every single woman on the street was pregnant.

MY AWARENESS OF GESTATING WOMEN HAD INCREASED EXPONENTIALLY

So it is with red (or blue) car syndrome. There are no more red cars on the road than before, but we simply become a lot more tuned in to something when it is on our radar.

I figure I can use this phenomenon to my advantage. The more I focus on something the more I become aware of it. If I crave a French vanilla slice and send all my thoughts towards the perceived advantages and disadvantages of eating it, I become super-focused on the slice and can’t think of anything else. (Trust me – this has happened a gazillion times).

If I instead try and create a sense of curiosity about why I feel like eating, I can make a much more healthy decision about whether or not to eat at all. Is it hunger? Emotional numbing? A socialising opportunity? Habit? Is it just delicious and that’s okay?

Now don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with eating a vanilla slice. They’re a lovely little treat and food is there to be enjoyed. But I once developed a habit of eating one practically every time I went past a shop that sold one – and it turns out there are a lot of shops that sell them. Before I knew it, the slightest bit of stress meant I needed a vanilla slice and no amount of mental reasoning could see me stop obsessing.

Actually – it’s the obsessing that gets you in the end. By turning my attention away from the delectable treat and figuring out why I want to eat in the first place I find myself in a much better position to make a choice that I feel okay with later on. Sometimes that choice is to eat the slice. And that’s okay. Sometimes I realise I want to numb away an emotion and perhaps it’s better to feel it than to eat it. And that’s okay.

Merriam Webster defines courage as, mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty. Eating disorders are filled with fear and it takes a lot of courage to stay on the recovery track. But it also takes skills and tools and tips and practice.

REFOCUSING MY OBSESSIVE THOUGHTS AND REFRAMING NEGATIVE SELF-TALK IS PART OF THE PROCESS

Now, it’s not just as simple as saying, don’t think about it. If anxiety was that easily solved nobody would be anxious. And sometimes fear needs to be thought about and faced head-on. But it’s the rumination and obsession that gets very unhealthy and incredibly unproductive and that’s when the red car syndrome comes in handy for me. While my subconscious is intent on seeing every red car on the road, I can set my conscious mind to counting the white cars. Or some such other distraction. I can try and focus my attention on productive and sustaining thoughts rather than letting my subconscious rule the roost.

Does this work all the time? No. Of course not. Sometimes rumination gets the better of me and all I can focus on is the very thing I don’t want to think about. But sometimes I am able to redirect thoughts by focusing on the emotion rather than the desire to act.

I am using this skill to help me come to terms with weight gain. It’s what I mean when I say I don’t have to like something in order to accept it. Nothing positive will ever come from me standing in front of the mirror and berating myself for how I look. Today, I am as I am and the best choices I can make are to focus on good, healthy emotional outcomes and not stress about whether it’s better to have soup or a smoothie for lunch. I won’t get comfortable with my body by hating on it.

MY EMOTIONAL WELLBEING IS OF FAR MORE IMPORTANCE THAN MY WAISTLINE

I have really struggled with the weight gain aspect of recovery – really, really struggled. But letting go of the need to lose weight was a huge turning point for me and is a decision I have had to make over and over again. I didn’t just decide one day to choose good mental health over my favourite dress. I have to make that decision every single day. The good days and the bad days. The hard days and the long days. The days where I fuck up and get it all wrong. The days when everything runs like clockwork. All the days.

Unintentional attention to red cars is such a good analogy for me personally. We all notice stuff. I’ve been at a restaurant with friends and then afterwards one of them commented on the light fittings. I didn’t even notice the light fittings were there but her attention was drawn to observing their unusual nuances. Our attention is often focused on the unconscious, it feels good to turn awareness to healthy outcomes.

There was a fad for a period of time (is it still a thing?) where people would write out all their dreams and goals and look at the lists everyday and by visualising these things, they would come to be. I am sure there is a lot of validity to this philosophy. If we spend every day thinking about pursuing a dream then we’re more likely to be taking steps towards making the dream a reality. And on the ugly side of the same coin, if we spend all our time focusing on how shit our lives are, then our lives feel shit. Changing perceptions can create opportunities.

IF YOU’RE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR AN OPPORTUNITY YOU’RE MORE LIKELY TO SEE IT

Life is never completely simple and just dreaming of winning the lottery or becoming a professional ballet dancer won’t make it happen. But without the dream it’s an impossibility.

WEIGHTING ROOM

I’ve gained weight.

I would hazard a guess that most people don’t want to gain weight, but when you’re recovering from an eating disorder it’s especially hard. The eating disorder wasn’t entirely about weight, but it was a big part of it. For me at least. I have an intense fear of gaining weight and being overweight and now both have happened.

IT’S PART OF THE RECOVERY PROCESS

And I fucking hate it. Nobody around me would be so indelicate as to comment on my weight – they know how hard I’m working at recovery. But I feel like I’m a big ballooning ball of neon lights just saying, look at me I’m fat now. Despite the fact probably nobody cares, I have a little paranoia that everyone is talking about my weight behind my back. I’m sure it’s not true, but paranoia is not rational.

Initially, I had rapid weight gain as a side effect of lithium. Unfortunately going off lithium did not cause rapid weight loss – I have to lose it the old fashioned way. Trouble is, there is no safe way for me to lose weight and maintain psychological recovery. I’ve tried. The moment I decide on some kind of perfectly sensible dietary modification that might lead to slow weight loss, I go all eating disordered. It’s like an enormous switch in my brain is instantaneously switched on and I start restricting – big time. And then after I restrict I start binging. And if I don’t stop the roller coaster at that point I’ll end up back at square one.

SO I’VE MADE THE DECISION TO NOT LOSE WEIGHT

Not on purpose at any rate. Now don’t get me wrong – if I mysteriously lost a ton of kilos for no apparent reason I would be tickled pink. But I’m not going to actively pursue weight loss because psychologically I can’t afford to.

I suspect you non-eating disordered folk find this very difficult to understand but it is what it is. I’ve become very protective of the recovery I’ve made and I don’t want to lose it. I don’t have a specific date when I started getting well, but I came out of the clinic on 11 May 2020 and I’ve made pretty consistent positive progress since then. Not perfect progress and I have to be okay with that as well. A tendency to perfectionism is part of being eating disordered.

I’ve had so few slip-ups in the past 12 months. So, so few. But still, they exist. And when they happen it’s easy to just think it’s not worth continuing with recovery. Just give in and stop eating. Just purge and exercise it all away. Just crack out the razor blades. Just pop another pill. I’ve learned not to do those things though. Most of the time.

IN THE INTEREST OF FULL DISCLOSURE, HERE ARE MY RECOVERY PITFALLS

I’ve gone through two short periods of restriction – once last year and once this year. Both times in response to despair about weight gain. I have periodic moments of binging – not over the top, but definitely not nice. Always an ill-informed response to emotional turmoil. But I never, ever compensate by purging or exercising. I do not remember the last time I purged. I think it happened once after I left the clinic? Sometime in the middle of last year.

It’s been a long, long time since I self-harmed. Nearly a year maybe? I don’t remember. It only happened a couple of times after I left the clinic.

I take my little cocktail of prescribed medications every night and I don’t over-medicate with extras. I feel I have developed a very healthy relationship with my prescription medications. Which is good, because for two years it became very unhealthy.

PART OF MY WEIGHT GAIN IS THE WAY I EAT

As time goes on, I’m hoping to become more and more attuned to how my body feels about food. To figure out exactly what this 55-year-old sedentary body needs from a nutritional perspective.

I don’t have an intuitively good understanding of portion sizes and healthy eating. I understand the theory – of course I do. But when it comes to choosing what to eat and how much, there is still a constant war in my head about the inherent “goodness” of the food and whether I’m “allowed” to eat it. The more I let myself eat whatever I want, the better my psychological response has become. In the meantime, I’ve gained weight because I eat a lot more than I used to and I don’t exercise like a crazy person.

I barely exercise at all to be honest – still rehabilitating my ankle. I’m slowly increasing the amount of walking I do and I’m hoping that with time I will be able to climb mountains once more. I’m slowly becoming accustomed to how my body feels with food and what normal hunger and satiety signals are like. It’s a really, really slow process but I am getting there.

And while I’m trying to get there, I have decided to intellectually accept things as they are right now. I don’t have to like something in order to accept it. As part of this acceptance, I’m going shopping. For new clothes. Every cloud has a silver lining.

HIATUS

I’ve been absent. Absent from so many things in my life.

One of the key components of my recovery has been writing. Since 2016 I’ve been writing up a storm. I couldn’t even hazard a guess at the number of words that have dribbled out of these fingers in the past five years. But let’s just say it includes 390 blog posts, 40 insomnia articles, an awful lot of journal entries and one whole book. Amongst other things.

WRITING IS MY THERAPY

So, when I go awol from my blog – my most powerful therapy tool, what is going on?

Sweet fuck all is what. See that picture of my cat? Curled up in the sun on the daybed. Sleeping his life away. That’s me. Except without the sleeping bit. I think I could safely say for the past 12 months I’ve been in a giant time out. Self-imposed. I have barely done anything. I do still write, but not enough. I have countless journal entries. Although I’ve turned my journal into letters to a special friend. It makes me feel like I’m being social.

I’ve stopped being social. While I can’t confess to ever being a social butterfly, I’m not even a social caterpillar anymore. I realise socialising is an important part of the human condition – we need connections. And I enjoy them! But left to my own devices I barely make contact with the floor let alone my ever-patient and eternally-loving friends.

THIS TOO SHALL PASS

I will make it so. I know my dearly beloveds will read this and think I don’t want to see them. That’s not at all true. I love spending time with people. I just don’t like going through all the (seemingly) major inconveniences of having to be social. I have to get out of bed, shower, brush my teeth, put clothes on, have a fight with myself in the mirror about how awful the clothes look now that I’m living in a much larger body, eat food, find car keys, drive, stay awake, talk.

It is all quite exhausting to be honest. But it’s exhausting in the way that climbing a mountain is – it’s also exhilarating and well worth the view when you get to the top. Socialising is one of those things I’m always grateful I’ve done, but I never look forward to it. Just like sex really. Is it? It is for me. I don’t ever think, wow let’s have sex, but once we’ve done it I’m grateful for the time spent together.

I AM THE MOST BORING PERSON EVER

But the point of this post is to say I’ve had a big writing hiatus but it is coming to an end. Mentally I feel so strong and so well and part of my journey of recovery is making the choice to keep on moving forward. I lost my identity as a mother and a musician. I’m reimagining myself as a writer and to do that, I need to write. Not just in a silent journal full of the narcissistic writings so quintessentially necessary with private musings.

I need to write for public consumption and hope my words speak to someone other than me.

I have built a standing desk. [Haha haha haha! I didn’t build it. It was built for me by my son and husband.] But I have a standing desk and I love it. It is my workspace and I’ve put a nice pot plant and a kick-ass speaker on it so it feels funky and practical and – as I said – I really, really love it. My writing environment is conducive to writing. I just have to move from daybed to desk and make the choice to keep on keeping on with this moving forward business.

You know, when I came out of the clinic last May, I think people thought I was all magically well. That nine weeks locked away was all that was required. There is sometimes a misconception that a psychological clinic is like being on a retreat. I’m not sure people deliberately make that connection, but there’s a perception it’s a time out where staff provide food and cleaning and you just rest and attend sessions.

While those things are true to some extent, that is the same for any hospital stay and anyone requiring hospital admission is acutely unwell in some capacity. The hospital stay treats the acute illness and once you’re safe and sound you go home to recuperate. I feel like I’ve done 12 months of recuperation. Which might sound ridiculously long but I broke my leg 20 months ago and I’m still trying to rehabilitate my ankle as a result.

I cracked my brain somewhere in the past (let’s round it off and say six years ago) then broke it completely in March last year. The rehabilitation is long and convoluted and never in a straight line. But pushing myself to try and be back to “normal” (whatever the fuck that is) has been counter-productive so I have learned to just be patient and remember my favourite mantra, This too shall pass.

I am 55 years old. It’s not easy to completely reinvent yourself at this age but I’ll do it. I hope I would say the same if I was 65, 75 or 85. I think at 95 I’d just let myself curl up in the daybed with my cat and soak up the sunshine.