Reflect on your blessings

The last few months have been the worst months of my life. The darkness has been unbearable at times. In the recent week or two I have tried so hard to eat a little more than I was, but it's difficult and I'm still not putting on weight. My laxative use renders me half paralysed at times and makes it impossible to sleep properly at night. My blood tests show my immune system struggling. My hair is starting to die and falling out due to lack of nutrients, and I feel weak almost all the time. 

Due to how dark things feel, I decided to try and think about things I am grateful for.

I don't mean the big things in life that we are all grateful for, like my family, friends, my cat. 

All very important things but I wanted to think about the little things that I probably don't even realise I'm grateful for. 

-The fact my flat has a private garden, my garden is definitely my 'calm place'.

-The fact supermarkets sell low fat iced coffees.

-Tracksuit bottoms and slippers.

-The elderly couple who live a few flats away from me, whom I've never actually spoken to, but who wave whenever they see me.

-Johnson's baby bedtime bath soak, it smells amazing.

-My recent weekend stay in Somerset, I love that place and staying there reminded me how much I want to qualify so I can go and work there. 

-One of my close friends just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Looking at this gorgeous baby reminds me I have to get better otherwise I won't ever be able to have a baby of my own. 

On top of these things, I am blessed with a loving family and such caring friends. I know in that aspect I am extremely lucky. 

Out of each week, I probably only have a day, or maybe two days, where I can see the good in life and the things I am grateful for. I also know if I carry on the way I am, my body will continue to shut down and eventually that will be the end. I know the fight is far from won but the things I am grateful for push me on. 

'Reflect upon your present blessings' - Charles Dickens 

Nine circles of hell

Being diagnosed with anything, physical or mental, can be a long and trying process. 

It can take time for professionals to be able to diagnosis or professionals may not always agree with each other. 

A diagnosis is not the be all and end all, but for some people it can be comforting to put a label or a name on the feelings they have. 

The diagnosis for my eating disorder is atypical anorexia nervosa. 

The 'atypical' part means that someone meets the majority of the criteria for anorexia nervosa, but not all of it. There is also atypical bulimia nervosa, and the 'atypical' disorders are often categorised as the 'eating disorders not otherwise specified' (EDNOS). 

In my case, I meet the criteria for anorexia, all apart from the fact that most months I still have my periods. In many ways this makes me feel invalid. 

As time goes on and I see more of my care coordinator and more of my psychiatric consultant, I am repeatedly told that I'm not a low enough weight to get any NHS help for my eating disorder.

I have said time and time again to professionals that I don't want physical help, as in being helped to put on weight. 

I want therapy to help my relationship with food and to help stop me seeing food as an enemy. 

I'm so sick of being told I still weigh too much to be helped. I'm sent for weekly blood tests and the slip I am given each time states 'anorexia nervosa' across the top, yet I'm still too heavy to be given help. 

Obviously there is private help, which I am looking into but I lack motivation to follow these things up or to make effort to contact anyone. Mainly, because I have little hope of this getting better. 

After hours upon hours with professionals, discussing every part of my life, the only statement that is left ringing in my ears, is that I am still too heavy. 

Dante wrote about nine circles of Hell, I am certain I am within one of them. 

Where is summer?

Days seem endless, full of assessments, visiting different hospitals to hear about a range of treatment programmes. 

I know almost everybody wants to help but nobody knows what to do. 

Nobody can diminish the darkness. 

I desperately don't want to go into a hospital, but my other options seem bleak. 

I'm tired of being tired, of being exhausted. I'm tired of feeling so mentally drained.

I long for someone to discover a medication that can stabilise this disorder, that can silence the voice of this disorder. 

Someone once said to me that it can snow as late as May but summer will always come in the end. That phrase has always stuck in my mind and all I can do now is to hope that somewhere along the way, summer comes and the darkness ends. 

Stigma/my diagnosis

The stigma that mental health illnesses carry are like dead weights. 

I can only write about things I have experienced myself, things I have heard people say or stuff I've read about. From my experience one of disorders that carries one of the heaviest and most detrimental stigmas is personality disorder. 

The name 'personality disorder' covers a range from avoidant to schizoid to narcissistic to emotionally unstable or borderline. 

Perhaps the most commonly heard of personality disorder is emotionally unstable/borderline. 

Borderline is the name given in DSM-IV and unemotionally unstable in ICD-10, but the criteria for borderline and emotionally unstable are almost identical. 

DSM-IV and ICD-10 both list the features of this disorder, and a person does not have to meet every single feature to be given the diagnosis. 

EUPD, unfortunately, holds a stigma with it that people with this disorder are manipulative, attention seeking and 'badly behaved'. That when/if they self harm or attempt suicide it's always only for attention. They purposely cause arguments and often make false allegations, they can't be trusted and a common phrase I hear about patients with EUPD is that they 'love being in hospital'. 

In actual fact, EUPD means the person has problems regulating their emotions, often leading to self harm. They may have unpredictable mood swings and/or not know why they feel certain ways. They often have identity issues and insecurities, making 

EUPD very common in people with eating disorders. 

But, it seems some healthcare professionals do not deem personality disorder as a 'real' mental illness, and do not view it in the same way they see bipolar or schizophrenia.

Patients with EUPD can be hugely challenging, as can patients with any other illness, but is this a reason to tarnish the name of personality disorder so new patients are almost written off before even being met, simply because of their diagnosis.

My official diagnosis is an atypical eating disorder, co-morbid with depressive disorder and traits of emotionally unstable personality disorder.

I wasn't surprised when I was given this diagnosis and it didn't upset me, but it does make me hope I am not seen as a manipulative or attention seeking patient. Even though it isn't a 'full' EUPD diagnosis, people are still quick to stigmatise. I knew I would be told I had EUPD traits due to my self harm, suicidal ideation and identity issues. 

Luckily, I knew myself for twenty five years before this diagnosis and I know I am not what any stereotype says. However, some people are not as fortunate as me and they get almost consumed by the stigma of disorders. 

Surely the best way to erase stigma is to remember that every illness is a valid illness and to try and see past the difficulties that mental disorders presents. 

The addicting outlet

(Trigger warning; post about self harm)

I first self harmed when I was fifteen years old. Looking back now I don't remember the reason why I made those first cuts.

My care coordinator questions me around this, she's looking for some sort of trauma that hit me at that age to start it off. 

But for me it wasn't a trauma or a life event that made me start self harming, it was just something I did. I wasn't terribly happy at the time but again, for no specific reason. Looking back I know I was a teenager and I probably felt emotions and didn't know how to deal with them, so cutting was my outlet. 

The problem with self harm, in whatever form it takes, is that it is hugely addictive.

I've heard many healthcare professionals say that they cannot understand what would take someone to the point of wanting to mutilate their own body. I think to myself good for you that you can't understand, that means you've never had that level of mental torment. Or, maybe, you could argue they handle their emotions in a more positive way, who knows. 

For me, self harm takes the form of cutting and burning, and the addiction is real. 

I think the pain is quite nice, physical pain can momentarily relieve the mental pain.

But it is about more than just the pain, it's something I can't even put into words. 

Having been addicted in the past to tablets containing speed, I would like self harm almost to the hold drugs can have over a person. 

You can have every good intention, every will in the world, but when push comes to shove self harm is like a familiar friend, a warm invitation that you recognise and know. Something incredibly hard to break away from. 

My care coordinator recently asked me if I feel ashamed or embarrassed about the scars I have. She asked this gesturing to the burns on my hands and scars on the inside of my arms. 

I think she wanted me to say yes I would be humiliated if someone saw them. - if I had said this, maybe she would have used this as a reason for me to stop.

But I said no, and that's the truth. I'm not ashamed of any scars or burn marks I have. 

I wish I could have got this far in my life without self harming but I don't believe that was possible so I have these marks on me, but I'm also still here. So no, I'm not ashamed. 

Nobody should be ashamed of self harm because it is natural to need to find ways to cope, and not all ways are deemed 'healthy', but at least you're still here. 

The voice of an eating disorder

I have spent years longing to be able to eat whatever I feel like eating. People sometimes may the mistake of thinking someone with an eating disorder just does not like food, but this is so wrong.

I LOVE food. I just can't let myself eat it.

I love macaroni cheese, garlic bread, fish and chips, lasagne, spaghetti bolognese, chilli con carne.. and these are probably the type of foods that many people eat regularly.

I know these aren't particularly 'unhealthy' meals. I remember my parents making spag bol, chilli, lasagne, fish pie, all sorts of meals for our family dinners every night. 

I used to eat them every night, and it was more than okay. 

But now, I can't imagine what it would even feel like to eat a meal like that. 

On the rare occasion I eat something I deem as 'bad', then follows days of more laxatives than usual and more restriction than usual. To ensure I lose whatever I may have gained in that one 'bad' meal.

It's so complicated in my mind because I know logically how weight, metabolism etc works.

But logic means nothing when I have a constant voice in my head telling me I can't eat that, I can't eat this, I have to lose more weight, keep pushing keep pushing.

I long to eat whatever I crave that day. When I walk through supermarket aisles I long to just pick up whatever takes my fancy. Instead of looking at the food and then hearing a voice saying no you can't eat that. It has too many calories. Walk away. 

I long to eat with my friends and my family, to be able to eat the same meal that my family eat. 

I long to silence the voice. To be completely free of the voice. 

But the voice is part of me, a part that I don't think will ever leave. 

When you think about it, it's who I am. It defines my very being. I am my eating disorder. 

Suicide

Suicide is something that has always been somewhat taboo in society. Even now, in the 21st century, people who end their own lives are often called 'selfish'. 

Many individuals cannot understand why someone would want to complete suicide. 

Personally I do not agree that suicide should be a taboo subject. As human beings, we need to be more understanding and accepting towards the fact that there are situations where people feel no other option than to end their life.

Suicide is something that crosses my mind every single day. How to do it, when to do it, who it would affect. 

I have thought for hours upon end of the different methods, the most likely to succeed, the method that would leave the least-traumatising scene for someone to find. 

When depression really has a hold on you, it is like your mind isn't your own anymore. Something else has control of your mind, and someone who may have never had thoughts of self harm before, is now thinking of ways to end their own life.

Depression, eating disorders, any form of mental health problem, have the power and ability to reduce you to a shell of your former self. And have the power to leave you feeling like death is the only way out. 

This is by no means me writing a 'goodbye' post or anything like that. I just simply think the world needs to strive towards a place where mental illness is more understood. A world where the stigma that mental illness brings with it is erased. That way maybe, hopefully, people going through difficulties would feel less alone.