Living with anorexia

Six months on the sofa

It’s two months since I wrote this: Four months on the sofa

Today I read back over that post to see how things have changed over the last two months.

Two months ago my mum had just returned to work, but I was at the start of a downward spiral which I am still unable to get out of.  The lies have got bigger, I am eating less, my weight is still dropping.

I am physically a lot worse than I was then.  Now I have much less energy, I am weaker, colder and in pain.  I feel much less able to fight.  My diet has got yet more restricted.  I am struggling to eat things that I managed to then.

There are no real positives.  Everything is worse.  Two months ago I was still able to go out, I walked every day (I shouldn’t have been, but I managed to), but now I couldn’t manage that even if I wanted to.  I am largely housebound, and only really venture out with my mum to drive me.  Even that is too much sometimes.  The short walk from the car park to Primark was too much last week.

Seeing people is difficult.  A friend called in last week, I appreciated it, but talking to someone for an hour exhausts me.  I can put on a front for a little while, but it drains me.  I have got more anxious again.  I struggle to make decisions.  I can’t read any more, my concentration has gone. I can no longer be left alone, my mum is having to take yet more time off to care for me.

Today I have hit my lowest ever weight.  I am trying to avoid being admitted to a medical ward.  But if I keep losing weight that is inevitable.  I don’t want to end up too ill to be admitted to an eating disorder unit when a bed finally becomes available.

I don’t know how long this can go on for.



5 thoughts on “Six months on the sofa

  1. I hit my lowest weight today too. 😲 It’s a struggle eh? I don’t have any wise words for you except that you’re not alone and that I know people recover from this mess we’re in…


  2. I know this suggestion is going to sound terrible and if I’d have gotten it I would have ignored and maybe even scoffed at it but here it is anyway… perhaps you can choose to go to the medical ward, on your own, to get stable so you can be sure and get a spot in a program. I mean yeah, medical ward… horrible thought. Even though you’ll probably just laugh at this (no judgment, just saying that because I would have) just sit and give the idea a thought. You don’t have to but it would be worth ruminating over – thoughts aren’t actions after all. Why? What to ruminate on? The idea that “you” are choosing and not someone else choosing for you. There is great power and control in that. When someone else decides your fate it feeds into anorexia a wee bit more. Well, at least it did for me back in the day. This time I chose to go to a program. When I got in, despite the unbelievable hurtles I faced, I felt it was a privilege. They didn’t have space for more than 12 so being accepted made me feel honored (but also guilty).

    As I slowly got food in me, I started to feel that once I got out I would go back to more anorexic ways (consistent with the video I posted which says the noise in my head would get louder initially, with nutrition). As sick as this is, I yearned for them to find something wrong with me hoping it would jar me into the reality of what I did. Guess what, they did. I have severe osteoporosis and at my age it can’t get better. True I am now on a medication that if taken for years, might help. Years. Exercise would help but being an over-exerciser that isn’t an option at this point. My heart had inconsistencies but got better. I just skated by on doing permanent damage to my cell strength, which is still compromised but getting better. So, did the permanent damage jar me into reality? Yes, for a hot minute, then I was back to my usual “anorexic importance”. However, each day helps me get to the next. Each day I am closer to developing a habit of eating. Each day I feel a wee bit stronger. I’m able to talk to friends again, even visit with them without feeling overly exhausted. I’m able to read again and clean my house. I’m able to drive the 2 hours and 15 minutes to iOP. I’m all these things because I “chose” to go into treatment. I’m certain that if I had gotten to the point of needing a medical ward, I would have done that too. I would have hated it and railed against it but I would have chose to do it on my own.

    Ultimately you are in control. Your brain might be too starved at this point to make any decision but I suspect you can still think about things. I could when I was laying on the couch unable to do anything else. Whatever the case, I hope you know how much I care about you. I have faith in you even though you can’t have faith in yourself.

    ps. I know that answering comments is exhausting. Just reading long ones like this might take a lot out of you so please, please don’t feel guilty if you feel you must reply but can’t. ((hugs))


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