Revisiting Anorexia and Self Hatred
Hello!
It's difficult to know how to begin a greeting in the midst of a global pandemic as all of our new catchphrases seem to be becoming parodies of themselves. "Strange and uncertain times" they may be but I'm irritated by the phrase and I'm sure you are too. Anyway, I hope you're all holding up alright.
I thought I would be blogging more given the extra time indoors with my laptop. However, quarantine has brought with it two of my old friends: Anorexia and self hate. More specifically, the voices of anorexia (I'm calling her Ana) and self hate. So I haven't found too much time to write as I have found myself in an ugly battle inside my head with the two of them, desperately trying to ignore them. And believe me, they don't like being ignored.
It will start in the morning. I wake up and they will begin their tormenting; "You don't deserve breakfast. Don't bother texting him first, why on earth would he be interested in anything you have to say? You're boring, stupid, and fat. Put the phone down." I will sigh, get up, send the message I had planned to send, and put the bread in the toaster. But the squirming sensation in my stomach remains as I eat the toast, and I often put my phone on 'Do Not Disturb' to avoid the sound of notifications or, if we're being honest, to avoid the absence of sound.
I roll out my yoga mat ready to do a sensible level of exercise. Ana chimes in with "That workout won't be nearly enough. Remember your old routine? Why haven't you been doing 100 squats whilst brushing your teeth? Why are you slacking?" I will wearily remind her of hospital admissions after collapsing, the hair on the floor, and the pain of ripped stomach muscles. She pouts, and begrudgingly goes away. But I take a photograph of myself in the mirror displaying my abs - a message to myself and Ana that my body is strong. It is not fat. We both struggle to listen but we're trying.
The day wears on and Ana will continually tell me how repulsive I am, how reduced exercise during quarantine means I shouldn't really be eating, that if I want to continue dating after all this, I need to be thin. Self hatred may join in and tell me how useless I am, too stupid to be studying at Edinburgh, a bore to everyone I love, a disappointment, too much.... On and on and on until I muster up the strength to say...
Fuck. Right. Off.
I have managed to separate the voices of my mental illness from my true self which I am seeing as a huge breakthrough. They are persuasive and compelling voices, yes, but they don't have to win. And I think quarantine is bringing them out louder than ever because there's too much time to think. So I wanted to write on here for myself and others that it is ok to be struggling, and that identifying the voices of your mental illness as separate from yourself can be a really useful tool in maintaining recovery.
So, to my future self:
They do not hate you. You have come a hugely long way with your anorexia and you do not deserve to fall down that rabbit hole again. Your hair has grown back and your energy has returned. Your pseudo syncope has calmed to the point of being cleared to drive, let's not change that. Say "Fuck Off" to the voices as often as you need to. You are worth more than you believe.
I'm not entirely sure my present self quite believes it but writing it down and putting it online means it's there forever. So there.
I hope my rambles have helped someone, stay safe, stay inside, and as always, feel free to message.
Lots of Love,
Sarah xxx
