Lizzie's diary, 2nd January 2008

Diary entry: 2nd January

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This is going to be hard. How do I stick to the routine now that I am on my own? When all my instincts are to cut down. I am simply not hungry and I want to feel hungry again. I suppose I just have to keep doing it and perhaps the hunger will return again. If I stick to proper mealtimes and eat proper meals, maybe I’ll get used to it and regain an appetite – not just for food but for living too.
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Well I took my time, but I did it. I was determined to sit down and make myself have exactly the same as I would have done had Barry been here and I did. I need to establish a routine however forced it may seem at first. Gradually it will become a habit and who knows, I may start to enjoy it. Cheese and oatcakes? Yum yum yum.
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What I’m not looking forward to is being weighed tomorrow. I know I have to but it is going to be incredibly hard not to panic when I get confirmation of this weight gain. I’ve got to face it sometimes and reassure myself that it is fine. Just because the scales say something does not alter how I feel. And I do feel better physically. Well sometimes anyway. I didn’t like getting light-headed when we went for a walk the other day, and my hair and skin look pretty crap. But generally I think there is an improvement, and my mood is a bit more stable.

Lizzie's diary, 1st January 2008

Diary entry: 1st January

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Well Happy New Year. Happy New Lizzie? I wonder what this year will bring. Can it be any worse than last year? Typical New Year’s Eve nightmare – we both hate it anyway so it’s not surprising. Why am I not given any concessions for being unwell? I know he is sick of it, but that doesn’t make it suddenly evaporate. We went on a walk and I got tired. Very tired. Just getting through the day is sometimes a physical struggle. But I’m not allowed to play the anorexia card. Especially if it rears its ugly head at an inconvenient time. Or heaven forbid, at a mealtime.
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It was lovely to have the Shergolds back and a well-needed injection of normality and stability. Christmas is such an artificial situation it’s not surprising people come to blows – and with the added pressure of an eating disorder when there is a surfeit of food and drink, I guess it’s surprising I am still in one piece.
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Sometimes I have to give myself a reality check. And I realise that it isn’t always me.
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But I'm prepared to change, and I am changing. It’s not surprising that I’m going to have weird mood swings to accompany the weight gain. Read the literature, it’s text book stuff. I’m coping with the fat thighs, the stuffed-ness, the hamster cheeks. Give myself some leeway and acknowledge it.
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Nothing is going to change unless I do.
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I’m finding this whole thing rather uncomfortable. Not just physically (although it is – I feel like the Pilsbury dough man. Just raisins pressed into uncooked dough. Hot.) but emotionally too. This diary wasn’t intended to be an outlet for my self pity but sometimes it has to be. I don’t want it to be read I just need to get it out. Reawakening of feelings. I’ve just got to go with it and try. See it as an experiment. I don’t like it. I don’t like eating so much. I don’t like enjoying myself. Yet. But I will. And maybe we can go back to how we were. I try so hard but it is never enough. I love him so much but that’s never enough either. When is it ever going to be enough?

Lizzie's diary, 30th December 2007

Diary entry: 30th December

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Well it was absolutely lovely. They really are the perfect guests. Such sweet, kind, interesting gentlemen. Even I thoroughly enjoyed it – food included!
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I’ve definitely turned a corner this holiday and if it is due to weight gained then so much the better. I have managed to let go, however scary and alien that is to me. I’ve realised that the only thing I am anguishing over is other people's comments regarding the inevitable weight gain. But I have managed to talk to Barry fairly rationally (I hope) about it so hopefully I will know how to deal with comments like – ‘God, I don’t know how you managed to put on so much with how much you have been eating’, ‘You haven’t been eating that much’. Well, actually, I have. Not purely in quantity, although there has been a significant increase, but in terms of caloric density. I’m not used to such rich food and so much alcohol but I’ve managed to take advantage of it. Sorry, just needed to polish my halo. Repeat after me – this is a good thing. I need to put on weight. What is this intrinsic, inherent fear of gaining weight that we have? I can think of very few people, male or female, who actually honestly would like to put on a few pounds, let alone relish the idea of having to gain over a stone. I really believe that a large proportion of the population would like to lose a bit of weight, irrespective of their absolute weight. And I know I am far more comfortable with the feeling of losing it than gaining it. It is a most uncomfortable feeling – tightness, hotness, heaviness, munchkin features, hamster cheeks, thunder thighs. but I’ll get used to it. I have set myself to do this and I damned well will.
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“It can’t be done,” they told the man.
He, with a grin, replied,
“Nothing is impossible, until you’ve really tried”.
And so he set himself to do the thing they said could not be done.
And he couldn’t do it.
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My mum wrote that in my autograph book when I was a kid. What's that all about?

Lizzie's diary, 29th December 2007

Diary entry: 29th December

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One thing I do feel a lot of the time, and for no discernible reason, is angry. I just want to break something or lash out at someone. It does seem to tie in with a monthly cycle but if I have no hormones surging through my veins, how can it?
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That’s one thing I want. Periods. I know, I remember the downside – the tummy aches and PMT, but it would make me feel so much more normal. I dread to think what the lack of oestrogen is doing to my bones – I can almost feel it leaching out of them.
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I do seem to have come up against a bit of a brick wall in terms of hunger/fullness. All the holes have been filled but the mealtimes keep coming. Please tell me it’ll get easier. Barrie and Tony are coming for dinner tonight and I know it could be awkward. I just mustn’t get into a state. Do the worry work now and do not rise to it – you know how Barry gets when people are coming over and if I am on edge, it makes it worse.

Lizzie's diary, 28th December 2007

Diary entry: 28th December

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I should probably write something but I don’t know what, I don’t really know how I feel. I think I’ve forgotten how to feel. I just feel a bit lost. Not having Hannah here has made things seem less immediate. It is never the right time to talk to Barry about it but the problem won’t just go away. Or maybe it will – in some ways I think I’m letting go. Then I get the urge to restrict again. I know I need to make an appointment to get weighed next week but in some ways it is more relaxing not putting a figure on it. I have gained weight – just having someone here for 3 meals a day (not to mention the alcohol intake, chocolates etc. etc.) has made an enormous difference. I would anticipate a gain of at least 1 kg and if I come to terms with that now, then I won’t panic when I get confirmation.
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Physically I am torn between quite liking feeling satisfied after a meal rather than deprived – for the first time I ate a proper full forkful of linguine instead of one strand (sad but true) – and feeling scared. I just have to keep reassuring myself that this is right and it is ok. I cannot rely on anyone else to tell me that I am doing the right thing. But I do feel fat and uncomfortable.
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Sorry – another slightly random pen-grabbing moment. Due to the absence of the ‘festive period’-induced ‘weigh-in sesh’ I don’t know where I am weight-wise. So I thought I’d take a little role-playing moment. When I get on the scales on, let’s say, Wednesday and they say 39.7 kg. What would I think? What would I say? And just supposing anyone else is taking the blindest bit of notice of any of this. What was it last time? Exactly. It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t matter. Obviously I’ll panic – predictable gut reaction, but ultimately, if I feel good, and the scales show a gain, it will be a ‘good thing’. I honestly don’t know for sure that I have put on that much weight but I have been eating well, and regularly. And it is becoming more of a habit.
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I’m not sure I like this putting on weight thing. I feel less in control and less controlled but more alive. I think. Or maybe I’m thinking about it too much,. When I just get on with it, I forget there is a problem, So perhaps that is the solution. Stop being so self-indulgent and wallowing in self-pity and just do it.

Lizzie's diary, 26th December 2007

Diary entry: 26th December

Well, like 90% of the rest of the population, I ate and drank too much yesterday. Unfortunately, unlike 90% of the population, I am not allowed to go on a diet. I really made a superhuman effort yesterday but I must not let myself cut back today although it’s tempting. I’m not used to such rich food – can’t believe I’ll ever be hungry again. I felt like a goose trying to eat my toast this morning.

I don’t know how to put up with this when I am so fragile both physically and emotionally. I cannot be responsible for everything. I must be allowed to let go without having to suffer the consequences.

And I don’t like mince pies or Christmas pudding – trivia I know, but important trivia.

Lizzie's diary, 23rd December 2007

Diary entry: 23rd Dec

(am)
This isn’t a cry for help, I’m screaming at the top of my voice.

(pm)

As soon as I pick up this pen and start writing, I feel self-indulgent. Then the moment is lost forever. I’ve made some giant strides forward today. Proper lunch – ok, maybe not by everyone’s standards, but by sitting down properly and eating manchego and oatcakes (thank-you Martin) at a reasonable hour – and Christmassy chipolatas wrapped in bacon followed by ‘tarte fine aux pommes’ (I think B won the prize) and ice cream – but I’m tired. Tired of this, tired of being tired. Tiring of wearing B down. And tired of having to make an effort. Things shouldn’t be so hard. I want to be able to let go. Without feeling guilty.