I took this picture early one morning whilst accompanying my brother on a fishing trip. It was extremely cold that morning and, as anyone who is underweight will tell you, when it’s cold you feel it a lot more than anyone else. It’s almost like the cold is literally to the bone. Anorexics are actually at a much greater risk of things like hypothermia than most, something I would have done well to remember that day. The image is significant, it captures something that I will try and explain in this blog post that I find it hard to convey and often want to. It’s something I feel almost like I shouldn’t say, especially when people are being kind, trying to encourage me to be positive, but as someone who sees things in a very black & white way I have to explain, as I also have to explain why I see the world thus.
I’ve always felt a little disconnected from the world or, rather, from people. I see how people are, how they connect, communicate and react with each other and never seem to be able to attain the same level of interaction. It has been a constant source of frustration and anguish throughout my life, often seeing me withdraw from society. In my childhood teachers would often remark to my mum at parent evenings that at break times I would prefer to sit under trees making daisy chains in a neat uniform manner than interact and play with the other children. There are two things to comment on here. Firstly, I am a creature of habit and order. I like things to be “just so”, to be in order, to be lined up. I hate being late for things, I get unsettled if things aren’t to plan, I make lists, if something is out of place I have to put it right. I’ve always believed I had traits of OCD, however during my adulthood through various issues with mental health and certainly with my battles with anorexia, I have come under closer observation by psychiatric professionals. As I’ve touched on in a previous blog I have had initial assessments for autistic spectrum disorders and it is widely accepted that I have Asperger’s Syndrome. It was quite liberating to find this out. No longer did I feel “odd”, like an outsider, the kid who was weird and deserved to be the butt of every bully’s joke. I’m just wired a little differently to most people and there’s nothing wrong with that – I just see things a little different to the majority, I react in a different way and you know what, that’s totally fine. I can live with that. If I need to line things up, if I have to arrive early somewhere and sit in the car for 30 minutes just to be sure I’ll be on time, if I have to withdraw from society for a bit, if I need to shut up for fear of not saying things correctly – it’s OK!! I am who I am. Being on the spectrum doesn’t make someone a freak, it makes them unique. Celebrate it.
I’ve gone off at a tangent – another trait. The other night I went out to a gig. It’s a rare thing, such is my heightened state of anxiety day to day, both as part of my general state of mental health currently and anorexia. I find it hard to be amongst any number of people, especially people I don’t know, and only really feel comfortable with very close family. In order for me to go to this gig I needed to invite my mum & stepdad, had they not come there’s no way I would have gone. It was a big deal to go, even with mum there I was still having doubts up until the last minute and at the end of the evening there was a point where I knew I’d reached my “point” and needed to leave without being able to say goodbye to Emi, the girl whose gig it was that I’d gone to. I hate that, I hate not being able to finish things properly.
At the end of the evening I did, as so many people do, and posted pictures and a status on social media about the gig. I understand fully, and TOTALLY appreciate that people are encouraging, supportive, well meaning and good and I really love them for it. I thank them for it too, 100%. However, there’s something I need to explain, because sometimes I come across as very negative when people are being positive and it’s because I can’t convey what the truth is versus what they might see. Social media can be a shallow form of reality. People can sometimes be whatever they choose to be there, create a persona or a life that isn’t representative of reality. I try not to do that but I think sometimes that things get lost in translation and people assume that because I might be out at something social, or that I’m taking pictures of somewhere that isn’t at home, or that because I’m baking a cake that maybe I’m doing ok or things are improving. The truth is very different. Ok, I acknowledge that going to the gig was a good thing, that actually getting out was positive, but it doesn’t mean that I am suddenly getting better. Positive comments can sometimes be seized on by anorexia and be used against me. This can be the internal dialogue:
“So, they think that because you were out you are improving. I told you that it was a mistake. You can’t get away with this sort of thing. You’re clearly not ill enough. Stay in, eat less, exercise more, do more of the things you know you shouldn’t but you know you must to keep things quiet…”
It’s unrelenting. Someone took a picture of me at that gig and shared it out. I’m smiling in the picture (my best fake smile) but I don’t look particularly healthy. Again, anorexia loved that. The inner voice of the illness was making all the right noises, glad almost that the picture was out there and reassuring me that anyone that could see it would see that things weren’t actually ok…because they most certainly aren’t. How rubbish is that? I should be able to go out, enjoy something and look forward to doing it again without all this. Instead I actually go through this process every time and it’s a long time before I do anything again because it’s so wearing. The times I fight back and try again too soon have shown that things just get worse and worse so it’s easier to just wait, but it’s a nightmare.
The point of what I’m saying is this: if I reply to your positivity and it seems I’m trying to play it down I sincerely apologise. It’s not that I’m ungrateful, quite the opposite, I love you for it. However, I’m sorry to say that things aren’t ok really. I’m glad I got out but it’s been painful, and it’s more painful now. Celebrate with me for the fact I went, that’s a great thing, but I’m sorry to say that we’re not going forward here. I want so badly to pretend otherwise but I can’t live that fantasy life, I only do black & white. Please don’t hate me for this, know that I love you for your support and please, celebrate with me that, for this time and the next, for those moments I am enduring pain to just break free of what my illness wants.
There’s a beautiful sunrise behind those twisted branches. One day those branches will be ordered in a way that I can see more of the sunrise. I hold on to that.