I Want To Help

I was blown away by the responses to yesterday's post- thank you SO much for your support with this. I'm sorry that so many of you could identify with the issues touched upon... It's so heartbreaking to be on the "other side" and be able to do so little to 'help' someone who is in so much pain.

It has never really occurred to me before that I could use my own experiences to help other people. I always wanted to leave it behind and move on, and never really have to think about it or face it again. Somehow the thought of seeing my own behaviours/thoughts/feelings mirrored in somebody else once I am completely well has not been of interest to me. I want to write a book one day for my own 'closure' on this period in my life. A nice story with a beginning, a middle and an end. Tie it up in a neat bound package and stash it away- on paper and no longer invading my everyday moves.

I started thinking more about this last night- how strongly I feel about people in distress getting the care and support they deserve. How I want so desperately to be somebody to talk to who "gets it" when so many treatment providers learned all they know from textbooks and lectures. I feel like I WANT to reach out and help in any way that I can. I don't quite know how. I don't want to train as a nurse or a counsellor because immediately I then change from being a peer/survivor, to being a distant professional and I think, for me, what has helped most has been talking to people who have been where I have and made it over to 'the other side'. Not because I particularly want to spend the rest of my life rehashing what has been a hellish period for me, but because I want to try and help others come out of it the way I hope to.

I'd still love to write a book one day but with more than just a, "then I lived happily ever after". i want it to show the whole journey- from where I was to where I am and how it happened for ME. No two people travel the same journey but we meet similar bumps in the road, get caught in similar thunderstorms, fall down similar wells and I'd hope that others can relate to at least parts of my story and gain some inspiration from it.

Kind of jumping ahead of myself here- I''m nowhere near the point of being in a position to do much more than say, "I understand and I care" right now. This feels important to me now though. I don't want to be seen as someone who was sick/dysfunctional/depressed/anorexic: I want to be seen as someone who MADE IT THROUGH and offer support and strength to anyone willing to listen. I don't want to preach and sing some cheesy "recovery ra-ra" song- I want to be honest about what I went through and show that it can be done. More of a "this is my story- tell me yours, tell me what you need, tell me how I can help" approach.

This is the first time I've really thought about it and it's made me feel like I have some sort of purpose transcending my own recovery. A chance to help someone else. If I can make just one person believe that suicide is not their ONLY option, then it would have been worth it. I mean that. I can't even put into words quite how passionate I am about this, but seeing/feeling what me and my friends have gone through over the last few months with so many lives lost...it's really knocked me for 6 and jolted me into this compulsion to reach out and do whatever I can to help

I set up a group on Facebook last night to put together lists of helplines, books, etc that might help people in crisis. If you ARE on facebook, please join and spread the word.

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Onto some fabulous food... (because food is an important part of a balanced diet!)

Today's breakfast:

Bran flakes, mashed banana and Fage cherry twin pot. A.K.A. banana cherry cheesecake. I am developing a slight obsession with these twin pots- I usually eat the plain Fage, but these are great...dessert for breakfast? Count me in!

New lunch!

Curried chicken salad (with raisins and dried apricots in it- amazing!), spinach and tomato on wholewheat roll. This was messy to eat, but tasted good- even after I ended up dropping half of it on my lap. Oops...laundry time!

I have a horrible cold so my appetite has been non-existant today. I think my body needs proper nutrition regardless in order to fight this off so am pushing through. Not sure if I am going to work tomorrow- I don't think that coughing and sneezing all over the switchboard and shared headset will go down well! Meanwhile, drinking lots of cups of tea, staying bundled up and resting.

Hope everyone is having a great week, and for those of you stressed with finals, etc- it's almost OVER! Thinking of you all!

When Will This End?

"How many deaths will it take till we know

that too many people have died?.."

Not long after posting yesterday's post, I logged in to an eating disorders message board that I frequent to learn that another girl had passed away. It's been a year of what feels like a lot of losses. Five of my friends have died this year- I know, statistically speaking, that with the sheer volume of people I know who are battling this disease, as time goes on...the number of people who lose their fight is going to rise. It's a sobering thought that I am 26 years old and I am losing so many of my friends.

I am still struggling to come to terms with each and every loss that I have encountered. I am just so incredibly sad. That these amazing people who had so much to offer, so much potential, so much LIFE in them could no longer see a future for themselves. What hits me the hardest about all of this is that I can understand why they made the choices they did, having been in that situation of a despair words can't articulate, but from an outsiders point of view, still struggle to grasp WHY they couldn't see what others see in themselves.

I guess the real tragedy of suicide is that everyone is able to see alternatives aside from the person suffering.

It's making me more determined to fight. More determined to carve a life for myself- however painful or pointless it might seem at times. I don't see suicide as a selfish act at ALL- in my blackest periods, people have asked me if I had considered the impact on my friends and family if I were to go ahead with it. My answer was always an emphatic 'YES'- I had thought about it and honestly believed I was making the best decision for all those around me. I don't see it that way at all. Whether or not I think people like me/want to spend time with me/care about me, it's heartbreaking to hear of ANYONE is such an intolerable amount of pain that they could not face another day of it. It's human nature to care, to be concerned, to want to help any way they can. I feel a lot of the time like I am just a burden to people- that I am a disappointment, a failure, the "black sheep" of the family. A lot of my relatives don't want to hear from me anymore because of what I've put them all through with my illness- but that doesn't mean they don't care. It doesn't mean they wouldn't be upset if something happened to me. I think it's more along the lines of what I am now doing with a lot of my friends- stepping back, because caring so deeply about someone who is in so much pain and not able to do a damn thing...it's just too much. It's too much for them and it's too much for me.

I feel selfish for even thinking this, let alone writing it. But I don't have the strength to watch more and more of my friends lose the wars they are waging. The battles just to be at peace with themselves. If I thought I could do more, I WOULD- I am not in a place right now where it's triggering me in any way, I just feel sad. Helpless. frustrated. I want to reach out to everyone and hold their hand and tell them that it's GOING TO BE OKAY. To just hold on...and hold on...and keep holding on because one day things might feel less threatening/hopeless. I don't know if things will change but I would say it anyway because I feel so passionately that there is always some possibility that life will get better, more manageable, more bearable, more pleasant.
I don't know what else to say. I didn't mean for this post to go on for so long... It's hard for me to sum everything up in a short and sweet message when I feel so strongly about something.

For anyone out there reading this who is struggling with thoughts about hurting themselves- PLEASE, reach out for help. Call a friend, a relative, a helpline. Go to the nearest ER and talk to someone. Pray. Read. Distract yourself, draw a picture, write a poem...do something, ANYTHING except give into the darkness engulfing you.

"Don't give up five minutes before the miracle..."

*******

Onto some lighter things...

Dinner last night featured a typical British dish:

From Wikipedia: Toad in the hole is a traditional English dish comprising sausages in Yorkshire pudding batter, usually served with vegetables and onion gravy.
The origin of the name "Toad-in-the-Hole" is vague. Most suggestions are that the dish's resemblance to a toad sticking its little head out of a hole provide the dish with its somewhat unusual name.An 1861 recipe by Charles Elme Francatelli does not mention sausages, instead including as an ingredient "6d. or 1s. worth of bits and pieces of any kind of meat, which are to be had cheapest at night when the day's sale is over."

I think Yorkshire Pudding is essentially the same as what they call Popovers in the US?..


Vegetarian "toad-in-the-hole" with vegetarian gravy and steamed vegetables. My mom is American and NEVER made this when I was growing up so there is no 'nostalgia' attached to this, but it's typically classed as "comfort food" here in the UK (presumably because it reminds people of childhood?)

What are some of the dishes your area is known for?

Breakfast this morning was one of my favourites (who am I kidding? I love all my breakfasts!):

Oats, plain fromage frais, vanilla extract, frozen blueberries and almonds soaked together overnight.


Nothing like a big purple mess to greet you at 6am!

Reaching Out = Reaching In

I am feeling very disconnected right now and wanted to write in the hope that my thoughts will start to make sense again.

Today is the first day in a while where my thoughts have been entirely focused on food/weight/calories. Literally nothing else has come into my brain- I haven't been able to answer my phone, talk to anyone, do *anything* except obsess about what I'll eat and when and how. Normally days like today drive me insane, but it's been an almost welcome relief today.

Before I continue, I want to say that I am going to be talking pretty openly about suicide/urges/thoughts, so please don't read if this stuff triggers you. I am 100% safe right now but this is my blog and I need to use it to "think".

This week has been rocky to say the least. I am being seen daily by the Home Treatment Team and have been discussing the thoughts and feelings I have been having around suicide. It is something I have tried before, but always in an impulsive way. This time has been thought about, planned, mapped out- details figured out, everything put in order, etc. I also wrote, for the first time, a letter.

I wrote it a few days ago, tucked it away and haven't looked at it since. This evening when the nurses arrived, I spoke about how my focus has shifted today and I'm not quite sure why- perhaps because there was nothing left TO plan/organise, or quite possibly a survival mechanism (things are getting into dangerous territory = switch back to what's familiar/safe/comfortable). They asked to read the note I wrote- I wasn't entirely comfortable with this (is this "okay"? There's no "suicide planning etiquette" handbook). I sat there while one read it and passed it silently to the other. We talked a little about it before the conversation shifted. I made it clear that I am not IN that place tonight...next thing I knew, we were joking around trying to fix my TV.

After they left, I picked up the note to read. I don't really remember writing it. I remember trying to condense the zillion things I had to say into a short space, highlighting things I REALLY wanted people to know/understand, yet knowing that they may never understand and I wouldn't be there for a "question and answer" period.

One sentence jumped out at me:

I'm doing this NOT because I want to die, but because I so
desperately want to LIVE

This pretty much says it all. The depression, despair, anger, frustration- it stems from wanting, so badly, to be a valuable person, a worthwhile member of society, a good friend, a close sister/daughter/niece...and yet feeling like I stay so stuck in the same patterns of doing well for a while before falling flat on my face.

The note doesn't make pleasant reading. It's pretty jumbled with appalling spelling and grammar- there is a sense of urgency in my writing that I don't recognise. Perhaps a reflection on the mindset I was in when I wrote it, but also so desperately wanting to cause minimal pain to my friends and family, explain to the best of my ability why I reached the conclusion I did.

I feel very disconnected right now. Very much *here*, in this present moment and detached from who I was when I wrote the letter.. I want to write a new note. A response to the exhausted, scared and frightened person who wrote the note. Not some Pollyanna-style "things will get better/hang in there/keep fighting" stuff, because as much as that helps at times, right now it doesn't feel enough. I imagine reading this note if someone else left it. I imagine all the things that would jump into my mind that I wish I could have asked them or said or talked to them about. I don't know. Maybe writing a response to my own letter would be helpful?..

Another Star In The Sky

I've been sitting in front of my laptop for about half an hour, trying to formulate some kind of coherent thoughts/words right now.

I haven't yet come up with anything.

I received news today that a friend of mine passed away at the end of February. She was someone I have known for years- through the depths of her disorder, then as a "role model" after she entered residential treatment a few years ago and remained in a solid state of recovery from her eating disorder since then. Over the last couple of years, she has made random appearances with updates about how things are going, how recovery has taken her places she never thought she would go and how she was well and truly embracing life.

She was someone I have often thought about in my own difficult moments. A kind of, "she did it, so can I..." type way. She was actually one of two people who prompted the change in my own motivation to recover and seek out the admission I have been discussing the last few days.

Her struggles apparently didn't end, and her absence was not necessarily due to life being great/wonderful/absorbing. She took her own life on February 22nd.

It seems like yesterday that I posted about Lorrie passing away. I guess when your entire social circle is composed of people you meet through the common ground of an eating disorder, as time goes on, the chances increase that you will be losing more friends than any 26 year old would ever expect to.

I want to say more. So much more. So much about what I am thinking right now, what I am feeling, more about my friend. It just doesn't feel "right" this evening. There aren't words to do her courage and spirit justice.

Love never disappears for death is a non-event.
I have merely retired to the room next door.
You and I are the same; what we were for each other, we still are.
Speak to me as you always have, do not use a different tone, do not be sad.
Continue to laugh at what made us laugh.
Smile and think of me.
Life means what it has always meant.
The link is not severed.
Why should I be out of your soul if I am out of your sight?
I will wait for you, I am not here, but just on the other side of this path.
You see, all is well.
-St. Augustine