Paige's experience of Anorexia Nervosa
Since primary school I had always felt bigger than all my friends, but didn’t really think it was anything to be totally worried out. I remember being quite embarrassed, even when I was about the age of 8, about the way in which my body looked. I used to try and hide my body, and I especially hated it when we had to get changed for p.e. in front of our friends in the same room. I would always, no matter what, get changed in the toilet cubicle by myself.
Throughout my childhood, I had one best friend who I was extremely close to and spent most of my time with. She was always skinny and I would have done anything to have her figure. Every weekend, we would go swimming, but I never felt confident being with her. I felt like everyone was staring at me because I was fat. My sister, who is 3 years older than me, had always had a lovely figure. She could eat anything she wanted but her weight didn’t change. When I used to comment and say I was fat, she would say ‘it’s only puppy fat and you will grow out of this’. However, I never felt this happened and I always remained fat. My close family would also make comments about how much she could eat but yet remain the same weight and have a lovely figure. I was very jealous and thought if they thought I could do that than they would tell me. Obviously I didn’t think this was true myself anyway.
When I started secondary school, I was very nervous and remained this throughout. However, I began to make new friends and quite enjoyed school. From what I remember, serious problems started with my weight when I was in year 10. I had a couple friends who would make the odd comments about my weight, even though they knew how I felt about it and how self conscious I was. I began to take action by just watching what I ate, ensuring it was healthy, and carrying out exercise. In year 11, I began worrying about my prom and how I was going to look. I kept debating about whether or not to go because I felt ugly and fat. My mum and sister encouraged me, so I decided to cut down slightly on what I ate. I became very stressed out about my GCSE exams as I wanted to do well so badly. A few friends carried on with the comments, and one pushed me to my limits. I then knew what I was doing wasn’t good enough, so I had to take further action. I would return home from school and take part in compulsive exercise, if I didn’t do this then I felt like a failure. If my mum was at work, then I remember skipping meals and loved the satisfaction from this.
The first thing I would do in the mornings was weigh myself, and my weight just dropped every day. My school uniform started to become extremely big and baggy for me, which made me feel happy because I knew I was losing weight. A teacher one day confronted me, but I said I was fine and that I just dieted but had now stopped. I was relieved to know that people had been noticing as this meant what I was doing was working. Although I was losing weight, I became more and more self conscious. My periods eventually stopped and the voices in my head kept telling me this was good.
In December 2010, I finally agreed to see my family doctor, after all the threats I had from my mum about the nurse turning up at my house or even as far as getting the police and social workers involved in order for me to be sectioned. Admitting to the fact I knew I had Anorexia was the biggest nightmare ever as well as the hardest thing to ever do. I never thought it would ever happen to me. However it was essential to realise that I had a problem. The doctor weighed me etc and I had to give an outline of what’s been happening and why I think this. She referred me to CAMHS where I first saw a mental health nurse. It took a lot of encouragement from both my mum and sister in order for me to go, but I hated seeing them so upset and hurt that they couldn’t do anything to help me personally. I would have to see her twice a week, where we would discuss how I was feeling, which I was very reluctant to do. Having such a low self esteem made me keep all of my feelings to myself and I felt extremely embarrassed when talking to people. To be honest, at this moment in time, I felt so numb and couldn’t really explain how and why I was feeling like this. She would try and encourage me to weigh out the positive and negatives of anorexia. I found this quite frustrating because I knew there were very few positives, none in fact, of having this illness.
I would have to have regular appointments with a dietician, which I would find incredibly hard. We had to compose a meal plan which would add up to the amount of calories I needed in my diet which would help me to gradually increase my weight. I was so scared about eating different food as my diet was so restricted and had been for quite a while now. I had been in the same routine and had to eat the same foods each day and the exact time. Whatever foods she would come up with, I would turn my nose up at it and it would make my tummy churn. I would think of any excuse I could come up with to not have it on my meal plan. I found the start of my diet very overwhelming and it took me a long time to gradually start adding different foods into my diet. Every meal and snack was a struggle and all I could think about what was next to enter my mouth. The feeling of being bloated and full up was always there which made me feel extremely uncomfortable. I also saw a family therapist a couple of times but like me, my mum found it hard to open up. She was very busy and had a lot on her hands with work, therefore I felt guilty dragging her to appointments Every two months we would have to have review meetings, where I was forced to go, and was surrounded by different professionals. I felt extremely intimidated. Once a week I would have to be weighed at my doctors surgery, as well as having my blood pressure and pulse taken. I felt like it was such an effort for the nurses to do this every week and as if I was wasting their time. I would also have blood tests often, as a few things were very low and ECG’s to check my heart rate. I was trying my best to improve my diet as the threat of me being hospitalised was extremely close. They even reserved a bed ready for me. However I was strong enough to not let that happen, as my worst nightmare was being away from my Mum. A few months later, I was finding things really hard and was diagnosed with depression. I didn’t feel like things were getting any better and kept experiencing feeling very low. I just wanted to feel pretty, confident and make the most of my life, but this illness has and is still preventing me from getting on with my life. I just constantly feel trapped. Throughout my illness, I have still been attending college studying a National Diploma in Health and Social Care. I am very academic and always have been, therefore didn’t want to let this illness interrupt my education. I aspire to go to university in September to do Paediatric Nursing, which I have been accepted for, but if things don't improve then I know this won't happen.
For a few months, I managed to prove to everyone that I was able to make some appropriate changes to my diet and how much exercise I was taking part in, so the CAHMS team would not be so involved. I didn’t really feel they were helping me enough, so just wanted to try and be strong enough to fight it alone. However this wasn’t the case. Christmas 2011 was tough, as it made me realise that my problem was still with me and I was unable to fit in with everyone else. The feeling of being worthless and low was still constantly with me where ever I went. Strong thoughts in my head were getting louder, such as that I was getting fatter and needed to restrict my diet. Compared to others, my food consumption was still very low, but it was too much for me. I therefore stopped having lunch again, and cut out on snacking. I couldn’t help but stress out constantly about food and have all these negative thoughts running through my head. A few events happened which began to trigger my eating disorder more and made me want to feel more in control. A childhood friend died very unexpectedly , who I was quite close to, and this made me realise that life is too precious and you don’t know when it will be your last day. However, I used food as a coping strategy and felt guilty each time I ate. I would constantly spend my time researching anorexia and people who are or who had suffered from it. I was fed up of feeling alone and wanted to know if there was ever going to be a light at the end of the tunnel. My mum started noticing but I would just snap at her and deny I was struggling. I knew I was finding things hard but when I began to break down into tears over someone just questioning me about food or when my sister wanted me to eat something, I knew times were bad. Every day I would wake up and tears would just roll down my face without me being able to control them. I hated the way I was. I didn’t feel I was in enough control, and I had previously seen people who have been finding it hard to cope would benefit from self harming. So one evening when it was late, I cut my leg. Luckily enough, I didn’t get much satisfaction from this and I was feeling very weak and faint, so tried it once more when I was struggling really bad but that’s the only times.
Every day is a huge struggle. I was seeing my mental health nurse, and the CAHMS team are discussing whether I need to be admitted to hospital. This was the very last thing I wanted to happen, but I have no strength and have the lost the will to fight. Therefore I think it would be the brave and appropriate route to take. I finished college a few months early, enabling me to prepare myself and think about my options. CAHMS however then discussed my situation and came to a conclusion that my BMI is not low enough for impatient care. I managed to brave myself up for it so I could prove to my family I wanted to get better, and then they tell me this. Surely making someone with anorexia feel like they are not ‘ill’ or light enough is the worst thing to do, let alone from the team. It made me feel as if I am wasting their money and time and that I wasn’t worthy enough of treatment for a mental health illness. I felt so pressured to lose more and more weight. My parents have even had to look into me receiving private care, which would cost so much money and I did not want that to have to happen. Since I finished college, all I was able to concentrate on was losing weight and I can genuinely say I cried every minute of every day. I was dragged to the doctors by my mum to have my weight and blood pressure checked, where I was told I’d lost weight. She asked me what I saw in the mirror. I obviously wasn’t going to tell her. A big fat failure seemed about right to me. Whilst I was spending all my time at home trying to eat less and less, all my ‘friends’ were going to college, going out for meals and shopping etc, working so they could earn money, driving around. Whatever it was, it was much better than what I was doing with my life.
Things got so bad that in May 2012 I was admitted to a Mental Health Unit about half an hour drive from my home. I feared about being away from my home due to anxiety and away from my mum, however I knew I couldn’t continue like this alone. However I only lasted a total of two days here which I am not proud of, however I felt and still feel it was the appropriate action to take. The two days spent here were a huge wakeup call and the start of something new. Being made to sit down and eat what was put in from of me was extremely hard, but with the motivation from staff and doing my best to push the negative thoughts away I was able to try new foods which I hadn’t managed to have in years. After each meal and snack, I realised that if I really pushed myself I could make it happen. I constantly felt homesick here and couldn’t help but think about my family and I wanted to be going through it with them. I therefore discharged myself with the agreement to follow my meal plan set and do everything I could. When I said I wanted to do this and recover, I was being truthful. The time I spent in this unit made me realise that there was much more to life and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life like this. This was a turning point for me. I’m not saying it was as easy as that and I just recovered from there, but it really did give me a kick and the motivation to make recovery possible. I still find everyday hard, but I am learning ways in which I can deal with my emotions and thoughts. I have therapy on a regular basis to help. I have taken the decision to have defer my place at university for Paediatric nursing and year out of education so I can concentrate on recovery and help others who are in a similar situation. With all this going on, I still managed to complete my Health and Social Care National Diploma and came out with a D*D*D* grade. Next year I hope to be recovered and ready to start my degree and university, and then maybe take the pathway of mental health nursing.
My advice would be to not let anorexia take over your life, I can honestly say once it’s took hold it completely ruins your life. I wish I went for help when I first started struggling because then I may not be in this vicious cycle. Real strength comes through holding your hands up. Real strength is saying those words out loud for the first time. Real strength is admitting that you can’t do this alone; that you need help. For the years I have been affected by this devastating mental health issue, I have been unable to live my life like a normal teenager would like to. I couldn’t and currently go a day or even a minute without thinking about food and my weight, I would wake up and it would be the first thing on my mind, wondering if I had lost any weight and what I would look like in the mirror. Are any more bones starting to show through or do I need to try harder? What could I do which would help me to avoid putting any food in my mouth or taken that extra step of exercising to burn calories. I couldn’t go out with my friends as felt so disgusting, uncomfortable and as if everything revolved around food. I just wanted to stay in bed and hide. Whilst all these thoughts were going on in my head, I couldn’t even think what I was putting my family through. I knew they were concerned but it had taken its hold of me and there was nothing I could do. It was and still is out of control. Although I don’t open up to my friends about my eating disorder, they are still very aware that I have one. All along I feel like I make eating really difficult for them, I’m not sure whether they are worried about me or feel awkward about themselves eating. When they go out, I feel like it is such an effort for them to invite me. This could be down to the fact I am always feeling so low, numb and depressed. I feel like I am pushing the ones closest to me away, who are my family and friends. My mum tells me how it’s like she’s walking on eggs shells when around me. Why should it have to be like this for her? I feel so selfish but I’m too weak to do anything to help. The illness will scream at you to keep quiet, but in order for you to fight it and make the step to recovering you need to scream louder.
Throughout my childhood, I had one best friend who I was extremely close to and spent most of my time with. She was always skinny and I would have done anything to have her figure. Every weekend, we would go swimming, but I never felt confident being with her. I felt like everyone was staring at me because I was fat. My sister, who is 3 years older than me, had always had a lovely figure. She could eat anything she wanted but her weight didn’t change. When I used to comment and say I was fat, she would say ‘it’s only puppy fat and you will grow out of this’. However, I never felt this happened and I always remained fat. My close family would also make comments about how much she could eat but yet remain the same weight and have a lovely figure. I was very jealous and thought if they thought I could do that than they would tell me. Obviously I didn’t think this was true myself anyway.
When I started secondary school, I was very nervous and remained this throughout. However, I began to make new friends and quite enjoyed school. From what I remember, serious problems started with my weight when I was in year 10. I had a couple friends who would make the odd comments about my weight, even though they knew how I felt about it and how self conscious I was. I began to take action by just watching what I ate, ensuring it was healthy, and carrying out exercise. In year 11, I began worrying about my prom and how I was going to look. I kept debating about whether or not to go because I felt ugly and fat. My mum and sister encouraged me, so I decided to cut down slightly on what I ate. I became very stressed out about my GCSE exams as I wanted to do well so badly. A few friends carried on with the comments, and one pushed me to my limits. I then knew what I was doing wasn’t good enough, so I had to take further action. I would return home from school and take part in compulsive exercise, if I didn’t do this then I felt like a failure. If my mum was at work, then I remember skipping meals and loved the satisfaction from this.
The first thing I would do in the mornings was weigh myself, and my weight just dropped every day. My school uniform started to become extremely big and baggy for me, which made me feel happy because I knew I was losing weight. A teacher one day confronted me, but I said I was fine and that I just dieted but had now stopped. I was relieved to know that people had been noticing as this meant what I was doing was working. Although I was losing weight, I became more and more self conscious. My periods eventually stopped and the voices in my head kept telling me this was good.
In December 2010, I finally agreed to see my family doctor, after all the threats I had from my mum about the nurse turning up at my house or even as far as getting the police and social workers involved in order for me to be sectioned. Admitting to the fact I knew I had Anorexia was the biggest nightmare ever as well as the hardest thing to ever do. I never thought it would ever happen to me. However it was essential to realise that I had a problem. The doctor weighed me etc and I had to give an outline of what’s been happening and why I think this. She referred me to CAMHS where I first saw a mental health nurse. It took a lot of encouragement from both my mum and sister in order for me to go, but I hated seeing them so upset and hurt that they couldn’t do anything to help me personally. I would have to see her twice a week, where we would discuss how I was feeling, which I was very reluctant to do. Having such a low self esteem made me keep all of my feelings to myself and I felt extremely embarrassed when talking to people. To be honest, at this moment in time, I felt so numb and couldn’t really explain how and why I was feeling like this. She would try and encourage me to weigh out the positive and negatives of anorexia. I found this quite frustrating because I knew there were very few positives, none in fact, of having this illness.
I would have to have regular appointments with a dietician, which I would find incredibly hard. We had to compose a meal plan which would add up to the amount of calories I needed in my diet which would help me to gradually increase my weight. I was so scared about eating different food as my diet was so restricted and had been for quite a while now. I had been in the same routine and had to eat the same foods each day and the exact time. Whatever foods she would come up with, I would turn my nose up at it and it would make my tummy churn. I would think of any excuse I could come up with to not have it on my meal plan. I found the start of my diet very overwhelming and it took me a long time to gradually start adding different foods into my diet. Every meal and snack was a struggle and all I could think about what was next to enter my mouth. The feeling of being bloated and full up was always there which made me feel extremely uncomfortable. I also saw a family therapist a couple of times but like me, my mum found it hard to open up. She was very busy and had a lot on her hands with work, therefore I felt guilty dragging her to appointments Every two months we would have to have review meetings, where I was forced to go, and was surrounded by different professionals. I felt extremely intimidated. Once a week I would have to be weighed at my doctors surgery, as well as having my blood pressure and pulse taken. I felt like it was such an effort for the nurses to do this every week and as if I was wasting their time. I would also have blood tests often, as a few things were very low and ECG’s to check my heart rate. I was trying my best to improve my diet as the threat of me being hospitalised was extremely close. They even reserved a bed ready for me. However I was strong enough to not let that happen, as my worst nightmare was being away from my Mum. A few months later, I was finding things really hard and was diagnosed with depression. I didn’t feel like things were getting any better and kept experiencing feeling very low. I just wanted to feel pretty, confident and make the most of my life, but this illness has and is still preventing me from getting on with my life. I just constantly feel trapped. Throughout my illness, I have still been attending college studying a National Diploma in Health and Social Care. I am very academic and always have been, therefore didn’t want to let this illness interrupt my education. I aspire to go to university in September to do Paediatric Nursing, which I have been accepted for, but if things don't improve then I know this won't happen.
For a few months, I managed to prove to everyone that I was able to make some appropriate changes to my diet and how much exercise I was taking part in, so the CAHMS team would not be so involved. I didn’t really feel they were helping me enough, so just wanted to try and be strong enough to fight it alone. However this wasn’t the case. Christmas 2011 was tough, as it made me realise that my problem was still with me and I was unable to fit in with everyone else. The feeling of being worthless and low was still constantly with me where ever I went. Strong thoughts in my head were getting louder, such as that I was getting fatter and needed to restrict my diet. Compared to others, my food consumption was still very low, but it was too much for me. I therefore stopped having lunch again, and cut out on snacking. I couldn’t help but stress out constantly about food and have all these negative thoughts running through my head. A few events happened which began to trigger my eating disorder more and made me want to feel more in control. A childhood friend died very unexpectedly , who I was quite close to, and this made me realise that life is too precious and you don’t know when it will be your last day. However, I used food as a coping strategy and felt guilty each time I ate. I would constantly spend my time researching anorexia and people who are or who had suffered from it. I was fed up of feeling alone and wanted to know if there was ever going to be a light at the end of the tunnel. My mum started noticing but I would just snap at her and deny I was struggling. I knew I was finding things hard but when I began to break down into tears over someone just questioning me about food or when my sister wanted me to eat something, I knew times were bad. Every day I would wake up and tears would just roll down my face without me being able to control them. I hated the way I was. I didn’t feel I was in enough control, and I had previously seen people who have been finding it hard to cope would benefit from self harming. So one evening when it was late, I cut my leg. Luckily enough, I didn’t get much satisfaction from this and I was feeling very weak and faint, so tried it once more when I was struggling really bad but that’s the only times.
Every day is a huge struggle. I was seeing my mental health nurse, and the CAHMS team are discussing whether I need to be admitted to hospital. This was the very last thing I wanted to happen, but I have no strength and have the lost the will to fight. Therefore I think it would be the brave and appropriate route to take. I finished college a few months early, enabling me to prepare myself and think about my options. CAHMS however then discussed my situation and came to a conclusion that my BMI is not low enough for impatient care. I managed to brave myself up for it so I could prove to my family I wanted to get better, and then they tell me this. Surely making someone with anorexia feel like they are not ‘ill’ or light enough is the worst thing to do, let alone from the team. It made me feel as if I am wasting their money and time and that I wasn’t worthy enough of treatment for a mental health illness. I felt so pressured to lose more and more weight. My parents have even had to look into me receiving private care, which would cost so much money and I did not want that to have to happen. Since I finished college, all I was able to concentrate on was losing weight and I can genuinely say I cried every minute of every day. I was dragged to the doctors by my mum to have my weight and blood pressure checked, where I was told I’d lost weight. She asked me what I saw in the mirror. I obviously wasn’t going to tell her. A big fat failure seemed about right to me. Whilst I was spending all my time at home trying to eat less and less, all my ‘friends’ were going to college, going out for meals and shopping etc, working so they could earn money, driving around. Whatever it was, it was much better than what I was doing with my life.
Things got so bad that in May 2012 I was admitted to a Mental Health Unit about half an hour drive from my home. I feared about being away from my home due to anxiety and away from my mum, however I knew I couldn’t continue like this alone. However I only lasted a total of two days here which I am not proud of, however I felt and still feel it was the appropriate action to take. The two days spent here were a huge wakeup call and the start of something new. Being made to sit down and eat what was put in from of me was extremely hard, but with the motivation from staff and doing my best to push the negative thoughts away I was able to try new foods which I hadn’t managed to have in years. After each meal and snack, I realised that if I really pushed myself I could make it happen. I constantly felt homesick here and couldn’t help but think about my family and I wanted to be going through it with them. I therefore discharged myself with the agreement to follow my meal plan set and do everything I could. When I said I wanted to do this and recover, I was being truthful. The time I spent in this unit made me realise that there was much more to life and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life like this. This was a turning point for me. I’m not saying it was as easy as that and I just recovered from there, but it really did give me a kick and the motivation to make recovery possible. I still find everyday hard, but I am learning ways in which I can deal with my emotions and thoughts. I have therapy on a regular basis to help. I have taken the decision to have defer my place at university for Paediatric nursing and year out of education so I can concentrate on recovery and help others who are in a similar situation. With all this going on, I still managed to complete my Health and Social Care National Diploma and came out with a D*D*D* grade. Next year I hope to be recovered and ready to start my degree and university, and then maybe take the pathway of mental health nursing.
My advice would be to not let anorexia take over your life, I can honestly say once it’s took hold it completely ruins your life. I wish I went for help when I first started struggling because then I may not be in this vicious cycle. Real strength comes through holding your hands up. Real strength is saying those words out loud for the first time. Real strength is admitting that you can’t do this alone; that you need help. For the years I have been affected by this devastating mental health issue, I have been unable to live my life like a normal teenager would like to. I couldn’t and currently go a day or even a minute without thinking about food and my weight, I would wake up and it would be the first thing on my mind, wondering if I had lost any weight and what I would look like in the mirror. Are any more bones starting to show through or do I need to try harder? What could I do which would help me to avoid putting any food in my mouth or taken that extra step of exercising to burn calories. I couldn’t go out with my friends as felt so disgusting, uncomfortable and as if everything revolved around food. I just wanted to stay in bed and hide. Whilst all these thoughts were going on in my head, I couldn’t even think what I was putting my family through. I knew they were concerned but it had taken its hold of me and there was nothing I could do. It was and still is out of control. Although I don’t open up to my friends about my eating disorder, they are still very aware that I have one. All along I feel like I make eating really difficult for them, I’m not sure whether they are worried about me or feel awkward about themselves eating. When they go out, I feel like it is such an effort for them to invite me. This could be down to the fact I am always feeling so low, numb and depressed. I feel like I am pushing the ones closest to me away, who are my family and friends. My mum tells me how it’s like she’s walking on eggs shells when around me. Why should it have to be like this for her? I feel so selfish but I’m too weak to do anything to help. The illness will scream at you to keep quiet, but in order for you to fight it and make the step to recovering you need to scream louder.
