Lizzie's diary, 23rd March 2008

Diary entry: 23rd March

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This is just awful. I don’t know what I’m doing and don’t know how to (not) do it. I should be feeling better. Getting better. But I don’t. I feel worse. Physically, mentally, psychologically, emotionally. I don’t know how to feel, I think I’ve forgotten. I’m on edge. Jittery, unsettled. Detached and scared. Is this payback time? Have I done too little too late – “baby-steps” as someone commented.

Lizzie's diary, 22nd March 2008

Diary entry: 22nd March
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I am finding it really hard to write anything much – too much stuff going on. The only thing I can say is that I am concentrating on what I have to do in terms of meals, and then at least I can say that something positive has come out of this difficult time. It would be too obvious to use this as a tailor-made excuse not to eat, but I’ve never been the one to take the easy option.
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And the bed-time drink doesn’t half make you sleep well, for it is better to sleep on things beforehand than lie awake about them afterwards.

Lizzie's diary, 18th March 2008

Diary entry: 18th March

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Luckily the fiasco that was this weekend has not had too much of a detrimental effect on my weight (up by 0.1kg). But on reflection, I actually managed to adhere to my meal quite well despite all the upsets. I think I only missed out on 2 desserts and a snack or two. It is just such a shame that it happened, I really was making headway. I have to be extra diligent and vigilant while Hannah and Barry are away and prove I can do this. All my own work.

Lizzie's diary, 17th March 2008

Diary entry: 17th March
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So Hannah has gone to Dubai and Barry has left. Alone again.
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But I cannot and will not let this beat me, however may excuses I may have. I have proved to myself that I can eat even when the odds are stacked against me. I have to remind myself that I am doing this for me and no-one else. And I will be the one that suffers the most if I don’t.

Lizzie's diary, 15th March 2008

Diary entry: 15th March
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Tears are the symbol of the inability of the soul to restrain its emotion and retain its self command (Henri Frederic Amiel)
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My moods and emotions have gone completely haywire. Why is this happening? Surely I should be more stable now my nutritional status is improving, not less. I seem to have spent the last few days dissolved in floods of tears.
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I have managed to make up for Fridays blip and just hope it has not an adverse effect on my weight. I cannot afford to mess up, time is running out.
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I had another outpouring of emotion at lunchtime. Unquiet meals make ill digestions.

Lizzie's diary, 14th March 2008

Diary entry: 14th March
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One of the biggest problems with this diary is that the times about which you need to write most are precisely those about which you feel you cannot write. I don’t know what has happened, why I feel like I do. Is it being under constant threat, pressure, stress (whatever) of hospital, splitting up, doing what I cannot do? I can’t think straight, I’m not making sense. Everything should be so clear, so easy and straightforward but I have so many conflicting extrinsic and intrinsic messages. Why, when I need something so fundamental is it denied me. I need help but cannot provide it. If I have to ask it is already too late. I am dead set on this and am determined to make it work but I need support – even if it does come to incarceration, until such time we need to have given it our best shot. Maybe I won’t like it, but that is irrelevant. I’ve lost the luxury of preference.
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I was doing so well this week, no cutting corners, finishing everything that was on my plate (cobwebs included), deciding to have a snack instead of pretending (primarily to myself) that I would have it later. Then the proverbial hit the fan. I don’t know what I said or did or didn’t say or didn’t do, but it was wrong, wrong, wrong. And at the end of shall we say a slightly emotional day as a result of Hannah trying to tackle some of my pre-prandial behaviours, I didn’t have it in me to behave rationally. Things spiraled out of control and I am thoroughly ashamed to admit I gave in to it and let the anorexia win. Why? Why did I protest by clamping my jaw shut? Just stupid. What a waste of an evening – sent to bed with no dessert, no night-time snack and no Clinutren.

Lizzie's diary, 13th March 2008

Diary entry: 13th March
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Nicky gave me a summary the Keys paper which documents the Minnesota study of the 40s and 50s in which the effects of starvation on the behaviour of 36 young healthy men with no prior history of psychological disorders were observed. They were studied during a period of normal eating, during a longer period of severe restriction and after restriction was lifted. The findings are fascinating - bearing in mind the effects were a direct result of starvation - the men were not anorexic per se. Which begs the question, if you are genetically predisposed to it, can severe restriction actually induce anorexia or at least anorexic behaviour? Although the individual responses varied enormously, they all suffered dramatic physical, psychological and social changes.
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So many of the changes are just too familiar for comfort. Or perhaps I should be reassured - perhaps I am not a total nutter after all. Just starving.
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One of the most profound changes observed was in the men's attitude to food and eating - not only did they find themselves unable to concentrate on normal things (being plagued, as they were, by thoughts of food) but they started to adopt wheat could be called "behaviours" such as eating very slowly (guilty your honour), making unusual concoctions (not unless you count Chorlicks) and general bad table manners (licking my knife? picking crumbs? mea culpa) A few of them binged, and although the majority eventually went back to eating normally, some found it hard to assess exactly what normal was.
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Nearly all of them were depressed.
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Their previous tolerance was replaced by irritability and angry outbursts. They were anxious and many started biting their nails and/or smoking. They were apathetic (tick) and worryingly began to neglect areas of personal hygiene (does my breath smell?)
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Another aspect of the starvation was the shift in their social behaviour - they became progressively withdrawn and isolated which is something I feel myself drawn to when I'm down.
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Their concentration, alertness, comprehension and judgement were also......
Oh yes, also impaired.
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And so it goes on. I can tick so many boxes - decreased strength, hypersensitivity to noise and light, parasthesia, decrease in metabolism. one man said he felt his body was burning on the lowest flame possible to conserve precious fuel and still maintain life processes. Luckily, in rehab, their metabolism speeded up again. Phew.
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Unsurprisingly they were physically feak and weeble, however one or two went into Duracell bunny mode. Been there, done that.
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Take home message? That many of the symptoms I have are a direct result of the starvation rather than a manifestation of the AN; and that the most important thing at the moment is to restore my weight to a more normal level.
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But worryingly, those men's relationship with food did not return to normal even after the period of restriction ceased - in the short term they felt out of control and couldn't assess when they were hungry or full, symptoms which persisted even after normal weight was restored and in some cases took years to normalise.
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Very, very interesting though.
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Buoyed up by my conversation with the unbelievably divine Huge, I developed another snack tactic. Last weekend I had really questioned why I felt such guilt at playing the free-with-The-Times Scrabble CD-ROM. So to assuage the guilt I accompanied it with a cup of tea and a flapjack.
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I lost the game but won the battle.

Lizzie's diary, 12th March 2008

Diary entry: 12th March

I went to see Nicky B yesterday, really to talk about how things are going and where we go from here. I am wondering whether she was right and that we were naive to think we could do this alone. Despite our initial enthusiasm and conviction, interest has waned. I am not ready to take the reins yet but by assuring everyone that I am doing ok I risk sliding down that familiar snake. Trying to please people, being a good girl. I am a nuisance and an irritation. Maybe I do need to be in a situation with continuous, experienced support instead of muddling through in the belief that I know best. But the rest of the army is not out of step.
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It is at times like this that I just want to curl up in a ball and withdraw.

Lizzie's diary, 11th March 2008

Diary entry: 11th March
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Boring boring boring. What a waste of a week. No gain at all. Not surprising I suppose- I have let things slop a bit - the odd snack here and there. not even an E for effort then. Must try a lot harder.
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I'm feeling very lost. Hannah is rushing around like a blue a**ed fly trying to get her stuff off to Dubai so I don't feel I can pester her. She hasn't really got the time to hep me at the moment and is on a bit of a short fuse. She thinks it is so straightforward, and so it should be. But if it were then I would be better by now. She cannot understand why I let the snack slip, and if I think about it during one of my (admittedly rare) lucid moments, nor can I. But slip it did, and reinstating it has not been easy.
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If we are going to have any hope of going on Sunrise at the beginning of April, something has got to happen asap. I can't keep going on like this; it is doing my head in. I feel trapped and can't fight my way out. I've used up all my lifelines, tested everyone's patience to the max. Everyone has done everything they can, now it is my turn. Stop procrastinating, deflecting, blaming; just get on with it. JFDI.

Lizzie's diary, 4th March 2008

Diary entry: 4th March

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Another 0.2kg gain. I think that is pretty damned good for such a hard week.
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I'm not sure how I feel. Should I be pleased, disappointed, relieved? What? I know it is good, and particularly in light of Hannah's absence, but a part of me is troubled. I haven't really made any big increases (well no increases if I am totally honest) so why has the weight gone up? But it's good that it has, right? But will it keep on going up? Hang on, I have at least been eating 3 decent meals plus every day, under my own volition, so in some ways it is surprising it hasn't gone up more, right? Or is it?
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To dispel this cognitive dissonance I phoned Nicky at Cotswold House. She was the very voice of reason and has made me feel less anxious. Not least by pointing out that if I was in hospital they would want five times that amount gained in a week. And also that the quicker it goes on, the shorter the time that I have to suffer this (no shit!) But sometimes it just takes someone else to reiterate the blatantly obvious.

Lizzie's diary, 3rd March 2008

Diary entry: 3rd March
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I’m worried by how tempted I am to cut back. I really struggled with making my lunch today – taking the extra slice of bread out, putting it back, taking it out again. Do I have one whole sandwich with minimal crust trimming, or 1.5 with plenty for the birds?
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I managed to overcome the temptation and had the extra half, but it has depressed me how easy it is to slip into back ways if I am not constantly vigilant. My OCD is getting bad too – I drove Barry to distraction at times over the weekend with hand washing, tidying, straightening and other such eccentricities.
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He seemed to be more patient this weekend. I don’t know whether it is because he can see I’m trying and that it could be working, or what. But whatever the reason, I just hope it lasts and hopefully it will keep improving just as long as I do.
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I felt very alone this evening with only my behaviours to keep me company. Somehow it just brings them into focus and it is so frustrating not to be able to conquer them. Do they have to get worse before they get better? Or are they going to get worse full-stop and never go away. I'm sick of this going on and on. I'm sick of being sick. Go away.
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Weighing tomorrow. i guess with all that has been going on, I should be happy to at least have maintained. But that will be so dull. What if I have put on more than the requisite pound? Or if I've lost? I don't know what to expect.

Lizzie's diary, 1st March 2008

Diary entry: 1st March
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Lying in bed, I started worrying that some of my immediacy had dissipated. Is it because I am more relaxed, less inclined to jump up and find the pen to write down those inconsequential threads? And is that a bad thing? If I don’t write anything, is it a sign that I’m getting back to normal and getting on with things, or is it that I’m going into a state of inertia? I don’t feel I’ve been going anywhere very fast this week. Thrashing around, making no headway. Empty ships. But I have been getting somewhere because this has been on my own. Really on my own. Quite scary how mad I really am. Too many OCDs manifesting themselves. Multiplying, escalating, taking over again. But they will not be quashed by force, only through kindness and understanding. No pressure. Quietude, normality and consistency.

Lizzie's diary, 29th February 2008

Diary entry: 29th February
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Yesterday wasn’t great but I did manage to eat a decent-ish dinner. I really am floundering though (foundering? Floundering? Which flounder?) and needed to talk to Hannah to get a kick up the proverbial. Even from that distance she made me see the error of my ways (and took my mind off making the sandwich. Cheese just doesn’t taste the same without her). I’ve lost any sort of appetite and enjoyment of food – will it ever return?
But doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.
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I had prepared myself for going out this evening – I was being allowed out for good behaviour – Madame Butterfly with Ged and Shyla. I was a bit apprehensive – it seems a long time since I last saw them, plus it was going to disrupt my eating plan big time, but hey, I can’t stay locked up in this ivory tower forever. Unfortunately Ged has had to cancel so I find myself alone again. I can’t say I blame Barry for using the tickets but under the circumstances, I felt it was better for me not to go. I’m not being a martyr, just sensible for once. Things are so volatile at the moment so I think I shouldn't risk breaking anymore eggshells. Think I'll spend the evening practising my tip-toeing.
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I found myself reacting in typical ana-mode earlier – Ginny texted me to say how nice it was to see me yesterday (liar, liar) and that I looked great. Of course for ‘great’ I read ‘fat’ (or at least fatter). Why? & even is she did mean that, does it matter? Bothered?

Lizzie's diary, 28th February 2008

Diary entry: 26th February
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This week has been a real struggle. Although Hannah has been in touch regularly, there is only so much she can do. I’ve felt my resolve waning and I have been really low today. I’ve tried to keep myself ‘up’ and busy but it feels like a real façade. I can’t allow myself to get depressed and wallow in self-pity, but I could do with a little TLC. I don’t want to admit how I really feel to anyone, just want to reassure them that it is going well when actually it is not getting easier at all.
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Decided to try another approach to my afternoon snack as previous tacks have not been wholly successful – macadamia nuts and dried cranberries nibbled while practicing the piano. One to be eaten every time I made a mistake. Very filling (I’m no Ashkenazy) but not too bad as snacks go. And it goes to show that you really are what you eat (nuts. Ho ho ho.)
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But the main problem now is that it is 6 o’clock already. I’ve got to defrost something for dinner but I don’t want to have to think about food anymore. Oh dear, it is all going pear-shaped. I know how it feels.

Lizzie's diary, 26th February 2008

Diary entry: 26th February
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The window cleaner asked how my fundraising was going – apparently there was a piece in last week’s Banbury Guardian about it. I’m not sure I like being recognized for this – maybe it was a mistake after all. Barry was pee-ed off last week as he doesn’t like his patients commenting on it and being “famous for being married to an anorexic.” Well, if I continue to get over it, perhaps he’ll be happier to be famous for being married to a recovered one.
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I value the friend who for me finds time on his calendar, but I cherish the friend who for me does not consult his calendar
Nikky just phoned, hot off the slopes. It is lovely to know she is thinking of me. I miss her. She is one of the first true friends I have had.
Some of the nicest times recently have been with her – and all of them ostensibly very ordinary. Giggling like school girls over absolutely nothing, making salami puffs while she got ready to go out, her bringing me a consignment of cheesecakes without being asked. Just kind, thoughtful things that you (or rather I) don’t expect people to do. The kind of things that I do (and enjoy doing) for others but don’t feel I merit having done for me. The only way to have a friend is to be one.
I just hope I don’t do anything to ruin it.
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Mummy Stas has also been an enormous comfort to me, her constant, unquestioning, unconditional support and love have helped me so much. It has made me realize though that it is not so much ones friends’ help that helps us, as the confidence of their help. I read a lovely quote by someone called Dag Hammarskjold (no, I’ve never heard of him either) that friendship needs no words – it is solitude delivered from loneliness. How true.
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I suppose I should write something about my appointment yesterday. I think Nicky Boughton is ok with me carrying on like this, but has emphasized the importance of increasing the calorie intake in order to maintain the weight gain, something which Hannah and I need to address when she gets back. But having spent the best part of an hour analyzing what is going wrong, I cannot brings myself to think about it anymore.