Introducing food back into my life

 The day they started introducing food back to my life was scary. 
I remember sitting in the dining room where all us adolescents would sit to eat. There were two separate tables, one for patients with eating disorders as they had to be watched and the other for patients with different mental health issues.

I sat down with a nurse by my side, the first food they introduced back into my diet was an apple. 
In some way it was so nice having some food in my mouth but then it wasn't as I would feel terribly guilty, I thought I would put on weight just from an apple. 

The nurses would check my mouth before I was allowed to leave the table as I always used to hide my food and spit it out at home , plus I was learning new habits and tricks from the other patients with eating disorders.
After meal times patients with anorexia or bulimia would have to sit in the lounge for thirty minutes, we weren't allowed to go to the toilets or walk around as they didn't trust us not to be sick or manically exercise. 

The first few weeks of introducing food back into my diet passed by, I was doing well so far and just wanted to get out of there. I would get a lot of positive letters and cards of family and family friends which motivated me a bit.  

There was a school in the unit which I went to whilst I was there. I enjoyed going as it gave me something to do. I would have English, Welsh, I.T, art, maths and science lessons there. Whilst studying there I really enjoyed reading 'of mice and men'. 
There were even times we got to cook meals for the nurses and doctors. 

Some days were boring in the unit, especially when I wasn't allowed to do much exercise. The nurses would take some of us out in the mini bus and take us for little drives, other times we would go to the cinema, which was a nice get away from the unit. 
It was nice getting out of the unit, sometimes we would go down to Conwy and rent a dvd for us all to watch. 

I felt so home sick for the first few weeks there, I just wanted my family. I wasn't allowed to speak to them much on the phone as we weren't allowed phones. 
There was a telephone for patients to use to call family or friends, which I used sometimes but whenever I heard my mums voice I would get upset and just want to go home. 

Every Monday and Friday morning I would get woken up by one of the nurses at 7.30 am to get weighed. I hated getting on to the scales and knowing I was slowly putting on weight, but the only positive thing about it was I would be allowed one night at home if I kept putting weight on or maintaining. I would hear other girls saying they lost weight which I found hard but I just concentrated on getting better. 

A few weeks past and my meal plan was full of different choices of food, and it was all going down. I was slowly putting on weight. 
Doctor Glaze was happy with my progress and after some practise meals with my family at the unit where the nurses showed my mum how to check for tricks I had learnt and how to check my mouth etc, he awarded me with going home for the night. 
I was so excited that I was allowed to go home and see my family.

A taxi would pick me up and take me home and then pick me up the next day to take me back to the unit. 
Home visits were going well and I was sticking to my meal plan. I would hate leaving but I got through it. My mum bought me a diary whilst I was in the unit, which I wrote in every night, I will be posting photos of some of it later on in my blog so keep an eye out. 

I went home for a second visit  but I wasn't feeling too well.
I remember being in so much pain with my chest, I was lying in bed and I just screamed and screamed for my mum, she had to rush me to hospital as I couldn't move, I was in so much pain. 

The doctor told my mum that I had pneumonia, which wasn't great. My mum informed the unit that I would have to stay in hospital for a few days. I kept throwing up which wasn't good for my progress and as I couldn't eat anything and I was put on a drip. 
After a few days I was back in the unit, I had lost a bit of weight so the doctor wanted to keep an eye on me. I started throwing up every time after I ate, but it slowly passed and I started putting weight on again, but I wasn't happy.I had lost hope and the will to get better whilst being ill, it was at this point I started to go down hill again. 

Remember to visit my blog again tomorrow to read the next part.

One step forward for recovery

Going to the unit was my first step to recovery. It was so scary going into a hospital surrounded by nobody you know especially as I was the youngest patient there at the time.

 When I first arrived onto the ward it felt like a prison, the doors were all shut and only the nurses and doctors where allowed through them.
The nurses were supervising at all times, at the time it was annoying but looking back now I am so grateful for all the support those nurses gave me.

I remember getting shown to my room, it was so empty. Luckily my mum bought me new bed covers to put on the bed to brighten the place up a bit and my siblings would draw pictures and write cards to me so I was able to stick them up on the board in my room.

No mobiles were allowed in the hospital,so I couldn't contact anyone. I knew it was for the best but I just wanted my family.
My family would come and see me every weekend and as much as they could or were allowed to during the week, my mum used to take me to sit by the beach or go to the arcades in Rhyl,where she would push me in a wheelchair as I wasn't allowed to do any exercise.
During the nights when I couldn't hear the nurses I would do some sit ups on my floor, the voices in my head just wouldn't let me be they kept telling me I needed to do more exercise because I was fat.

First day of recovery started off  by sitting down with the Dr and speaking about the difficulties I was having,and the treatment I was going to get whilst I was there. He decided to put me on antidepressants as he told me he thought I was suffering with depression, as Anorexia most often leads to depression and sometimes vice versa. He told me I was going to see the nutritionist to plan a diet plan.

I sat down with the nutritionist on my second day of being at the hospital. I was scared and nervous as I knew this was the day she was going to start bringing food back into my diet.
The first thing she asked me was how much was I eating before coming into the hospital, she then figured out how many calories I was having each day.
 I told her I was hardly eating anything and the only thing that I could get down me was slim fast shakes, which had just over 200 calories in each bottle. The nutritionist worked out I was taking in around 400 calories a day but I was burning off  lots more than that by exercising.
The nutritionist explained to me it was dangerous what I was doing and that I needed over 2,000 calories to maintain a healthy body weight.

I was really scared at this point because I was scared of having food again.
I was also at this point put on an exercise ban and told I would have to use a wheel chair if I went out anywhere to stop me burning more calories.

Recovering from Anorexia&Depression

Hi everyone,
 I've decided I would like to share my story about battling through an eating disorder and recovering from an eating disorder, and also my journey and continuing battle through anxiety and depression. I'm hoping this blog will encourage others to get help, and just to know that there is light at the end of the tunnel.

How it began..
It started when during primary school and through to year 9 in secondary school I got bullied or pushed out of a group.

 I never had much confidence in myself and I had very low esteem, I didn't enjoy school for many reasons, bullying being the main reason. I never knew why I got bullied but one thing I do know is that it has made me a stronger person today.

In year 9 everything changed, it was in the spring 2010 that I decided to move secondary schools due to feeling left out amongst my friends, what i know now but didn't then was I was actually suffering from depression which may have made me a little more sensitive and paranoid.

Things started of well in the new school but little by little things began to change. When it came to meal times I started to leave some food on the side of my plate everyday. I didn't think too much into it at this stage but my mum had realised something was up and would try and make me eat more, but I would refuse to eat anymore and say I was full even though I actually wasn't.

One day things started changing, I was hardly eating lunch at school, I would lie to my parents about how much I was eating, I would spit stuff out into tissue and throw food away without eating it. There was this one really slim girl in my class at school and I would always look at her and wish I looked that slim, I was jealous of her body.

One night I just danced in my bedroom for a hour, I wouldn't stop, every night I would make sure I would dance for an hour, then I would do sit ups and press ups. It started of with 50 sit ups/press ups each night then went up to 100, everyday the number went up. It was impossible to stop, if I didn't do any kind of exercise I would instantly feel guilty and I would get voices in my head telling me "you're fat, you need to loose weight" and so on. It got to the point where this voice was bullying me and wouldn't leave me alone. I would listen to the voice and I started to believe I was fat. I looked at myself each day in the mirror and felt so fat and ugly, I would sometimes punch myself in the stomach because I felt so disgusted at myself.

Then one day I just stopped eating, I thought anything I put in my mouth would put weight on me I even thought fruit would put weight on me.

 I would feed my little sister up instead of me, it got to the point that my sister had to go to stay with my Grandmother for a bit because I got too much. It was tearing our family apart slowly.

Deep down I really hated seeing the effect it had on the people I loved the most.

One day my parents both came to my room to speak to me about the worries they had about me, I could see tears in both of their eyes and it made me upset. My mum turned to me and said, "we think you might have a eating disorder" I broke down in tears I didn't realise how bad the situation was and I didn't want to believe it.

My parents booked me in to see a Doctor, he spoke to me and asked me questions about food, back then food was the enemy to me. He got me to write a food diary with everything that I ate in it so he could work out how many  calories I was taking in. The Doctor weighed me and said I was underweight and needed to put it on, in my head I didn't want to put it on I wanted to loose more and more weight.
I was under 8 stone but wanted to be even lighter than that.
I showed the doctor my food diary i had been keeping and when he read it he realised I was hardly eating as I was only managing to drink slim fast shakes because I would refuse to eat anything else. That was the day he referred me to a adolescent unit a hour away from home.

A few weeks after I was referred , I had an appointment there to see the main Dr at the unit which was Dr Glaze. My parents came with me to the appointment, I was scared and nervous because I didn't want to admit to myself I had a problem let alone anyone else.

That day when I saw Doctor Glaze he told me but I would need to become an impatient which i found really scary as I was still only 14.
The day I had to say good bye to my mum and be pulled from her screaming and crying was the worst day of my life.

That day I had a choice of getting better or a choice to give up and die.
To begin with getting better wasn't what I did or even what I wanted to do,but I did eventually choose to get better, and better is what I got.

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