Tag Archives: Recovery

Signs of change and coping with cheese – how my eating disorder recovery looks now

vd9j4ghMental health problems have a way of taking over. I’m lucky enough never to have been hospitalised or signed off work. Life has always stumbled on. But moods and behaviours creep in and twist their tendrils around daily life. They trick you into thinking they’re normal, into nourishing them. It’s not until they start to suffocate and strangle even the simplest of things that you recognise their power. And then it’s too late for an easy fix.

This year I’ve started the long process of hacking away at the thicket and pulling up roots that go incredibly deep. It hasn’t been easy. But now I’ve made some space it’s much easier to see what a tangle I was in.

Eating new food

I recently turned 33 and enjoyed a breakfast made for me by Alex without having to purge it through exercise.The day before my birthday last year I was panicking over choosing something nice (and therefore different) for my birthday breakfast. I cried outside the bread shop. I ended up with toast and even then it was a tricky day.

Letting go of control in the kitchen

I no longer have to have control in the kitchen. I’ll eat something made for me by someone else – even if I didn’t see whether they used butter or check how much oil they added.

Reaquainting myself with cheese

I had cheese on toast for the first time in two years last week (cheese has been a scary food for years).
Continue reading

Recovery is long, messy, uncomfortable and emotional – but i’ll keep trying (and talking)

Glad to have an eating disorder?

I'm not linking... but you can Google...

I’m not linking… but you can Google…

Apparently Liz Jones is glad she has an eating disorder. In her latest piece for the Mail, she tells us that recovery is so hard that it’s easier not to try. She’s lived with an eating disorder for so long that she’d rather take refuge in behaviours that feel safe than deal with the messy and fluctuating business of balanced eating.

She’s lived with an eating disorder for so long that she’d rather take refuge in behaviours that feel safe than deal with the messy and fluctuating business of balanced eating.

Yes, recovery is bloody hard work

She’s certainly right about that.

If you’ve lived with a restrictive eating disorder then gaining weight is quite literally your biggest fear. Recovery means choosing to face it and having the courage to live with it every day. It can be weeks, months or years before it stops being scary and difficult at least some of the time.

Food isn’t just nourishment. It’s both punishment and reward. It’s at once the scariest and the most important thing. Recovery means learning to manage this complex twist of emotions at least three times a day. Forever. It means dealing with other people’s opinions and comments on your changing body.

You’ve probably developed tests and checks to make sure your body is ‘right’ – restricting or purging until you ‘pass’. Recovery means ‘failing’ those tests without spiralling into self-doubt and recrimination. Hundreds of times a day.
Continue reading

The next step in recovery – letting go of clothes that don’t fit

Too small

img_3546I’m selling some of my favourite clothes. Some of them are definitely too small. I bought them when I was at my lowest weight last year. Fitting into a smaller size was an unhealthy but irresistible boost to a fragile self esteem that had narrowed to focus only on my weight and ability to exercise to exhaustion.  They hang in my wardrobe now and remind me, daring me to go back there. It would only take some long runs and a few weeks of restriction. They are better off living with someone who is naturally a smaller size.

Close fitting

Some of them still just about fit. They’ve always been close fitting, that’s just their style. As a result they are often barely worn – rejected because my muddled mind translates their constant pressure on my skin as a sign of being too big.

But now I’m working to reduce my exercise without restricting my food. My body is softer and larger. Getting dressed is one of the most difficult times. Tight and restrictive clothes risk triggering an avalanche of recrimination, irritation and anger. Yesterday I threw a banana at the wall. It’s funny now but at the time I was so angry at my mind for telling me I had to choose fruit over toast until I had run (on a day when I wasn’t supposed to be running at all).

My favourite clothes are a tangible reminder of change that doesn’t always feel welcome. I’m trying to learn to like a softer, curvier frame but it’s hard. I’m scared of losing control.  I’m fighting to stay away from unhealthy patterns of thought that started carving deep grooves in my mind when I went on my first diet aged 9. It will always be much more comfortable to let go and slide back into them than to resist and live day in and out in a body that feels heavy and uncomfortable.

It’s easier if I don’t risk it, if I say goodbye to those clothes and that time and look forward.

Letting go

I can’t afford to buy a whole new wardrobe but I’ve bought a few larger sizes, baggier clothes. They help me forget the discomfort and move my focus to all the other brilliant things in my life – work, family and friends I love.

In the past the fact I KNEW they were a bigger size would ruin this comfort. That disordered inner voice would keep reminding me that wearing a larger size meant I’d failed. That I wasn’t in control. Ridiculously I would rather be uncomfortable and sad in clothes too tight than admit I am bigger and be happier in clothes that fit. But this time I’m determined to make real change – for my mind, for my body and for the hope of conceiving.

In her brilliant memoir of anorexia and bulimia The Time in Between, Nancy Tucker writes about a pair of shorts…

“One of the most painful things about this period is The Shorts. I have a pair of denim shorts whose label bears the glorious declaration ‘Age 6-7’ and they become one of The Voice’s favourite instruments of torture…. eventually it is a panting struggle to pull them on and when I take them off I have crusty sores on my skin where the denim has rubbed me raw. I don’t know whether it is because I need reassurance that my body is still acceptably small or because the pain of wearing them serves a hair shirt, self flagellation purpose, but from the time I hit my lowest weight to three, four, five months afterwards, The Voice insists I wear these shorts every day”.

Her anorexia was far far worse than any disordered eating I have experienced. But her words show the incredible power that the warped voice of eating disorders can give to clothes and clothes sizes. After 23 years of letting buttons, zips and waistbands rule my life, it’s time to start letting that go.

 

What I’d tell my 2015 self about dieting, body positivity and accepting medication

One year on...

One year on…

Yesterday we celebrated our first wedding anniversary. Our wedding was a magical day but, in the two years since we got engaged, life has taken some unexpected turns.

My mental and physical health has taken quite a bashing.  I’m not fully recovered – and I’m working hard to challenge and change thought patterns and reactions that have been deeply ingrained for many years. But I’m gaining more perspective with each month that takes me further from the trickiest of times.

So what would I tell the Clare who said ‘yes’ under that tree on Hampstead Heath in 2015.

You can’t control a wedding diet – change the dress, not yourself

I thought I would be able to diet just enough to feel comfortable in a gently corseted dress – and then stop afterwards. But my disordered eating lurked much closer below the surface than I realised. It wasn’t long before my eating, exercise and emotions got horribly tangled. I thought I would never go back there but I slid into militant calorie counting, restriction and purging through exercise with the excuse that it was ‘just for the wedding’. The dress was too big, I spent our honeymoon struggling to find a manageable balance and it took my periods stopping to shock me into making a change.

You need medication – and that’s fine

“You were so proud of yourself,” my mother in law said. And I was. I had been fighting my medication for years, trying to cut down and come off. Stopping was the hardest thing I’d ever done.

And when I finally fought through the initial withdrawal symptoms I thought things would get easier. Instead they got harder. More chest pain. More tears, panic and anger. Suicidal thoughts. More running. More fighting my body. It took three months to realise I couldn’t do it. That nothing was worth the destruction those months had wreaked on my body, our health and our relationship.
Continue reading

The Regret Tape and the I’m Not Good Enough Mix – new metaphors and thinking tools for managing anxiety and depression

I’ve recently come off Sertraline after 15 years on various SSRIs. It’s been a long and tricky journey but I think I might be almost there. I’ve written a bit more about that here.

Using metaphors to identify, share and understand my mental health

Mix tapesDuring this period I’ve found two metaphors very helpful.

I love a metaphor when it comes to managing my day to day mental health. Metaphor helps me identify and pin down my experiences. This is a step towards understanding and managing them. It helps me regain perspective and use the language of shared experience to transfer and talk about some pretty intangible feelings.

Getting my nose away from the oil painting

I haven’t had much perspective recently. Feeling anxious seems to magnify individual moments. It’s as though I am living life too close up. I don’t have the capacity to see beyond the worry I’m experiencing right now.

van goghMy nose is right up against the canvas rubbing in all the tiny flaws and bumps. From here they look huge and distorted. But we all know an oil painting looks better from afar. The swirls of dark colour and the lumps of paint add texture and depth to the bigger picture.

I’m not saying that this kind of anxiety is necessary or important to make up the picture of a life – it really isn’t. BUT I have found that whispering ‘remember the oil painting’ to myself has reminded me to step back and question whether the worry that’s causing overpowering anxiety right now will matter at all in a year (or even a month or a week). It’s helped stop those tricky surges of panic become uncontrollable.

My anxiety and depression have a tape collection

Continue reading

Coming off anti depressants – withdrawing from Citalopram and Sertraline

Day six in Foster’s brain and all is reasonably calm…

trainers and pillsAs I write I’m on the sixth day without any form of SSRI at all. This is new territory for me. I’ve taken them every day for 15 years (with terrible healthcare making it much trickier).

Three months ago I moved to Sertraline. Two months ago I was down to 1/4 of a tablet per day. Then I started alternating days. One month ago I moved to one day on and two days off.  Over the Christmas break I’ve been attempting one day on and three days off.  This time round when it got to day four off I decided to keep going.

It’s been a LONG time coming. I’ve been bobbing around the 20-30mg mark for years. I tried to come off them in 2008 but didn’t get below 10mg Citalopram before an abortion and a move to London meant I needed more support again. I tried in 2012 but again couldn’t drop below 10mg. In  2014 I got to 5mg before it became unbearable and ended up slowly and frustratingly working my way back up to 20mg.

Dealing with withdrawal symptoms

My chest sometimes feels uncomfortably tight and I’m still welling up at the slightest thing but I haven’t had any big uncontrollable surges of irritability (horrible), anger (scary) and panic (painful) since before New Year. The worst day was the first time I got to three days without. That afternoon there was little to be done except pick my sobbing self up off the bathroom floor and breathe deeply in showers as hot as I could bear. I would lie completely still in bed hoping for sleep but fearing the threat of my mind building, rushing and slipping away into a place of panic and pain that felt unknown and terrifying. It’s really scary to feel genuinely out of control of your mind. Luckily there was only one afternoon that bad.

I only feel completely safe when I’m exercising and in the calm and blissful hours afterwards when I’m myself again. I’ve ran hundreds of miles. When my knee gave out I cycled hundreds more. I discovered spinning. I’ve been chaining Kalms and I haven’t had a good coffee or a glass of wine in weeks (interestingly when you’re recently married and of a certain age people tend not to push alcohol on you, even at Christmas!). But I’m nearly there. I really think I might be.

Luck, love and incredible patience

I’m  very very lucky to have such supportive and loving friends, family, work and (most of all) my husband Alex. My family love me unconditionally even when I’m unforgivably difficult. My friends make me feel myself again just by being in their company. But Alex is endlessly patient. Those surges of anger and irritability disguise themselves as reactions to things happening day to day. They show their ugly faces in snippy comments, slamming doors and helpless tears. He recognises these as symptoms. He knows that deep down they’re not my fault. He doesn’t react to them as if they are.  This is perhaps the most helpful but also the most difficult thing someone can do to support your mental health. He’s an absolute hero.

(I’ve also written about managing depression and anxiety in relationships here)

New understanding and techniques to manage my mind

There’s been plenty of dramatic lows and a few proud highs in this particular journey. But a lot of the experience of living with and managing this stuff is the day to day mental grunt work. Looking after yourself. Recognising triggers and identifying negative thoughts. I’ve been doing a lot of that too.

I love a metaphor when it comes to managing my mental health.  Metaphor helps me identify Mix tapesand pin down my experiences. This is a step towards understanding and managing them. It helps me regain perspective and use the language of shared experience to transfer and talk about some pretty intangible feelings.

Over the last few months I’ve found a couple of new ways of thinking about my experiences which really help day to day. The tapes and the oil painting. I’ve written about them here: The Regret Tape and the I’m Not Good Enough Mix – new metaphors and thinking tools for managing anxiety and depression.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next and I’m going to try not to beat myself up if it doesn’t go quite as planned. But I’m cautiously pleased and proud to have made it this far. The sun is shining and I’m off out with the dog (he helps a lot too). I might even treat myself to a (decaff) coffee.

P.S – An important extra

It’s worth emphasising that I spent a long time reducing my Citalopram and then Sertraline slowly in 2015. I did the withdrawal and reduction with advice from my doctor. This is a personal account of an individual experience. Mind has a lot of great info on coming off psychiatric drugs which it’s worth looking at if it’s something you are thinking about.

The mindfulness of dogs – a #mentalhealthselfie for Mind

Mind asked me to created a #mentalhealthselfie, a video blog about my mental health, for Mental Health Awareness Week 2015. The theme was mindfulness.

“He reminds me to be curious” – how Watson helps me practice mindfulness

As I blogged for Mind about my Mindfulness Based Cognitive Therapy course in 2012, I decided to do something a little different this time and talked about how my dog Watson helps me to remember some of the core teachings – acceptance, curiosity and overcoming reverse motivation.

Take 5 to blog for Time to Change

Time to Talk for Time to Change

Today is Time to Talk day. Once again the Time to Change campaign is encouraging people to take some time to break the silence that so often surrounds mental health problems and have a conversation with friends, family or colleagues. Or, in this case, the internet.

#Take5toBlog

So here’s my 5 (ish) sentence blog.take 5

My name is Clare and I have experienced depression and anxiety. It’s made worse by my errant hormones. I’ve been on Citalopram since I was 17. I’m trying to come off them now but it’s HARD! I have stalled at the 10mg mark but will be reducing in tiny tiny instalments again soon (when I’m feeling strong and the spring sun starts to shine).

My mental illness has affected my education – I had to repeat a year of university – and my relationships. Before Alex, pretty much all of my serious relationships ended because of my mental health.

My greatest source of support has been my boy Alex. He also manages anxiety and that shared understanding helps us care for each other. I’m also lucky enough to have supportive friends and family, many of whom also experience mental health problems of their own and to whom I can talk openly. There were times when I couldn’t make sense of my experiences in my head or out loud and then my journals and writing kept me going. I wrote to them like a friend.

I’m deeply aware of how fortunate I am to have the people around me I do. I’m thankful for them every day. My hope for the future is that everyone is able to find that network of support. A lot of the peer support work I do online is motivated by the desire to help people build that.

I’m taking 5 on Time to Talk day because I’ve found that being open and sometimes vulnerable in the world helps others be the same to me. And if I can help someone take that very first step to seeking help, to feel the relief of sharing and normalising their experiences, I will. Every time.

Why ‘Depression Island’?

A 2016 update

trainers and pillsHello! Just wanted to pop in and add some notes to this post. It’s 3 years since I wrote it and since then my mental health has fluctuated and changed quite a lot. I still manage depression but trying to come off my antidepressants really increased my anxiety for a while. And a complex combination of this and the pressures of getting married led to a significant relapse into disordered eating and an exercise addiction.

These experiences have changed my perspectives, helped me move forward with my recovery and improved my relationship with my medication. I’m getting there. I intend to keep writing but my blog should more accurately be called ‘From depression, anxiety and muddled eating island’. That’s not a very snappy title though. So I’ve changed the title to ‘Writing my mind’ until I can think of something better.

And here’s what you came here for – a bit more about what the whole island thing was about in the first place.

Where the metaphor of ‘depression island’ comes from and what it means to me.

Mental trickery
http://www.flickr.com/photos/funtik/

I find that knowing and understanding how my thought processes work and what influences my mood is one of the best ways to manage my mental health.

One of the hardest elements of depression and anxiety is that it encourages types of thinking which can go on making it worse. Things like reverse motivation and discounting the future (read more about these here). For me recognising and responding to these tricks is key to recovery.

Part of what I wanted to capture was the sense that when you are unwell you can’t imagine that you will ever feel better. And not just that; you can’t imagine that anything you might do to try and improve your mood could possibly ever work.

Whenever I feel better, I feel better in a way that I couldn’t have possibly imagined when I was feeling low.

I find metaphor a helpful way of trying to get a grip on my own experiences of mental health and communicate them to others( if you’re interested, have a look at my post on metaphor, mental health and online support).

I was searching for a metaphor that might help me and others better understand this phenomenon and I came up with the idea of two islands.

The islands

It’s as if my depressed, anxious mind and my healthy mind are two totally different islands. Continue reading