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.