Connect With Me!

Instagram http://www.twitter.com/vampybeargoogle.com/+ClaireJacobshttp://www.facebook.com/singleparentpessimisthttp://www.instagram.com/singleparentpessimisthttp://www.bloglovin.com/vampybearhttp://www.pinterest.com/Vampybear/

Thursday, 1 May 2014

Guest Post: How To Support A Parent With Anorexia

This week I came across a blog that had me close to tears, so contacted it's talented, brave blogger, Sophie, and asked her to write a piece for us about her life as a mum with anorexia.

1558607_10152076470649998_384418758_n
I've read and watched a fair bit about eating disorders over the years, but the one thing I've never managed to find any advice on how family members can support their loved one who is battling such a controlling illness.

Sophie kindly agreed to write about the types of support she has received over the years, and what she has found works best for her:
 
" My name is Sophie. I’m a Mummy, a Wife, a Daughter, a Sister and a Friend; and I have a terrible secret. I am in a relationship with a girl who is slowly killing me. My love for her is breath taking at  times, and yet I despise her with every part of my being. My Husband knows about her of course. He has watched me fall in and out of love with her for the better part of a decade.
 
Her name is Anna.
 
Anna is beautiful and confident and strong. She makes me feel safe and secure, and she has never left my side when I have needed her. She has seen me through eight tattoos, a marriage, a baby, a miscarriage, oh and we mustn’t forget that dreadful decision to cut my hair into a pixie cut. She has also pushed my relationship with my Husband to the brink of separation, she has broken the hearts of everyone that I love, and she has watched my health deteriorate to the point that my hair is literally falling out.
 
I am Sophie and I am anorexic.
 
Is it my ambition to be super-slim and gorgeous? No. As a complete raving hippy, I firmly believe that beauty comes from within. No, this disease is all about control and safety. Some may say that I’m quirky in the way that I only eat my muesli with a teaspoon, or how I can’t eat my lunch until after 2:30. It may appear healthy that I cycle 40km on the exercise bike per day, and then I walk for at least an hour. It may seem childish that I can only drift into what is often an extremely disturbed sleep by holding onto a teddy, having fluffed each of my pillows exactly 43 times. These behaviours keep the delicate balance between myself and Anna steady. Life is largely about compromise. If I cycle for an hour, then I am okay to have a snack after dinner. If I walk for an hour I can have three small meals today. This is no way to live. This is merely an existence.
 
Eleven months ago, after nine years of hiding my affair, I decided to come clean. The news of my illness came as no surprise to anyone, they already knew, it was I who was turning a blind eye. I accepted a place with a therapist and I finally stopped lying. I refused to go into hospital choosing to stay at home and rely on my family instead. In hindsight, having watched the life drain from my loved ones, I should have accepted the help and relieved them of the burden. The first few months saw endless tears. My Mum would phone me every single day panic-stricken, she had to hear my voice to know that I was still alive. My Husband’s fingers would stroke my hip bones as they protruded from my back, checking for bedsores like the Consultant showed me. With my immune system weakened I caught virus after virus. One day, my usually quiet Dad came to pick up my Daughter so that I could recuperate. As he turned to leave he looked back at me and asked me to tell him that I would get better, and that I wouldn’t leave everyone behind. I will never forget the sad look in his eyes.
 
What broke my heart the most was the guilt I felt towards my beautiful Daughter. Beatriz. My life, my best friend, my everything. A miracle baby after struggling with infertility due to my low weight and cysts on my ovaries, she came into the World and she made me feel human again. In twenty-seven days she will turn two. She never witnesses me crying, she doesn’t know that it hurts so much for me to lie on the floor with her, every ounce of my energy is channeled into making her happy. We feed the ducks, we smile, we laugh, we go on adventures. We dance in the kitchen, we pretend to be monkeys, we talk in deep voices just because it sounds funny. I take her out for lunch and sit sipping my tea with skimmed milk. She is too young to wonder why Mummy doesn’t eat with her.
 
My wonderful parents have been my strength all along. They have seen me through years of self-harm in High School, Depressive episodes that stripped me raw, becoming so weak that a mere cold could kill me. As a Mother now myself I finally understand how hard it is for them, perhaps that is why I accepted help. They have had to learn how to care for me and how to manage all of my quirks and mood swings. They have come to understand that simply yelling at me to eat more won’t work, in fact the anxiety from that would drive me to eat less. After their initial upset, they realised that crying whenever they saw me didn’t give me any confidence in my recovery. I needed to believe that I could get better. I needed to feel human. They came on holiday with us last year after my weight dropped so low that I was technically not supposed to fly. Holidays as a child were always full of donuts for breakfast and picnics for lunch, steaming slices of cheesy pizza for dinner and glistening scoops of ice cream for dessert. Mum and Dad understood that it wasn’t going to be like that, and as much as it hurt them, they learnt to just ask me once if I wanted something, and then to leave it when it became too much. There is a fine line between encouraging disordered behaviours and slowly challenging them. My parents have found that line and they are paramount in my recovery.
 
As difficult as it is for Mum and Dad, it is hardest on my beautiful husband, Roly. He has sat and held my hand as I have screamed at him in panic, he has fetched me tissues to dry my eyes. When we first met I was curvy, vivacious and full of life. He has had to sit back and watch the girl that he loves turn into an anxious, withdrawn shadow, merely floating through each day without really feeling. During my years of self-harm, he cleaned my wounds. He has driven to the shops in the middle of the night to get food for me because I have suddenly decided that everything in the full-to-bursting fridge frightens me. Earlier this year as I lay on the sofa, dazed and frightened from taking too many diet pills he calmly found my stash and emptied every bottle into the wheelie bin. There was no anger from him, no accusations of lying and hiding things. On those rare occasions when we go out for ‘lunch’, he patiently waits as I check the food on offer in each cafĂ© within a mile radius before making a decision. In many ways he has given up his life for me. He used to listen to music and enjoy the odd pint of cider and a game of pool. Now he sits in every evening and tells me how proud he is that I have just managed to eat a pepper and some couscous.
 
My relationship with Anna extends through my whole family and my friends. They have all been yelled at, cried at, stood-up when socialising has seemed too much. Through it all they have been patient, and that has been the most precious thing. It is only human to react when you are faced with angry words and lies, and yet they have remained calm, allowing me to figure things out with Anna, and they have always accepted my apologies and moved on. They take an interest in my therapy but they understand not too push it. They have learnt that Anorexia is not a shameful thing, it is a deeply psychiatric illness, an addiction of sorts; and they know that as with recovery from any addiction, the impetus must come from me.
 
It may be that as you are reading this you are recognising someone that you love, a Daughter, a Son, a friend. It is understandable that your first instinct is to help them, but first they must want to help themselves. Understand that any eating disorder is a web full of anxiety, rules and order. The key to approaching the issue is keeping calm, and acknowledging that the person you love is still in front of you, they are just trapped and they need your support. Accept that there will be good times, and times where you just want to lock yourself away and cry. There is no cure, and that is one of the most important things to understand. Your loved one will always battle with the voice, however they can learn to manage it, and you can too.
 
Eleven months on I am still receiving therapy. No, I am not in recovery, I am referred to as a functioning anorexic. Meaning that whilst my weight is low and my diet is extreme, I am maintaining the level that I am at and I am living a relatively normal life.
 
If you are reading this and you are feeling Anna stirring inside you, it is time to really look at yourself. Accept how yellow and pale you are, how thin and blemished your skin is, how bruised you are, and how much your bones ache. Acknowledge that it isn’t nice to be freezing cold, sat underneath a blanket with a hot water bottle as the Summer rolls upon us. Know that you are important, learn to love even just one tiny part of yourself and accept the help of the people around you. Being skinny isn’t living, being proud of yourself is."

Thank you Sophie for writing such a heartfelt piece about your life, and I really do hope you continue to gain control over Anna, so that Sophie gets as much time with her gorgeous daughter and husband as possible!

Follow me on Twitter, Pinterest or Facebook.

22 comments :

  1. My heart goes out to you and your family Sophie. You should be so proud of yourself for taking the courage to put your story out there to help others. I hope that one day you win the battle and say goodbye to Anna for good xx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sophie, I'm so sorry you're struggling wiht anorexia but so proud of you for writing your sotry here and helping others help their loved ones wiht eating disorderS> I am on the opposite end of the eating disorder spectrum, and I can relate to the r ole anxiety and pain play in your disordered eating habits. I wish you lots of strength in overcoming anorexia.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I can't imagine opening up like that about something so deep, let alone going through it all - you are very strong Sophie. It's nice to hear you have a supportive family. I really hope things can get better for you xx

    ReplyDelete
  4. whoa! i dont know what to say. an honest post! #wotw

    ReplyDelete
  5. Gosh this is an incredible post. I'm covered in goosebumps. Its so brave of you to share this with the world. I'm sure that there are people who read it that you will help, which of course is amazing! I also hope that in some way writing this and sharing it helps you a little too. Keep up that strength xx

    ReplyDelete
  6. I can only imagine how hard a piece this was for Sophie to write. I wish her hope and strength for the future x

    ReplyDelete
  7. What a brave brave post and what a wonderfully supportive husband and family you have! Your LO will be proud of you when she grows up!

    ReplyDelete
  8. That is so moving. Such an honest account. I'm pleased to say there is nobody with anorexia in my life, but as my children grow up I know it is one other thing I have to be aware of, so thank you for sharing your story.

    ReplyDelete
  9. A very honest post about your struggles, Sophie. I wish you the very best for your future. You sound like you have some wonderful, supportive people around you. #BinkyLinky

    ReplyDelete
  10. This is one of the bravest posts I've ever read, beautifully and powerfully written. Your family must be so proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself for seeking help and writing about your journey.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Gosh I was in tears at that. So moving and I can't imagine what you must all have been through. A very brave and honest post full of love for your family, and yourself. All the best for your future and your family xx #pocolo

    ReplyDelete
  12. Such a brave, emotional post. I am glad that you have such a strong support system around you. I sincerely hope that you can continue on your path towards recovery. x #wotw

    ReplyDelete
  13. A brave post. I am so glad you gave a family that supports and encourages you, and I hope that eventually this will give you that extra strength to start recovering. Thanlyou for sharing x

    ReplyDelete
  14. wow what a truly heartbreaking post and such bravery to be so honest

    thank you for sharing and linking it up with #PoCoLo xxx

    ReplyDelete
  15. Thamk you for sharing this post. It must be so hard, I can't imagine. Thanks for linking up to the #binkylinky

    ReplyDelete
  16. Beautiful post. Anorexia seems to have captured many women in my family, and it terrifies me now that I have a daughter. Sending you love and wellness wishes, and thanks for putting how you feel in to words #PoCoLo

    ReplyDelete
  17. Thank you so much for you kind words. I am so sorry it has taken me so long to respond, I have literally been overwhelmed by the support I have received. It is all I ever wish that just one person reads my blog and it saves their life, or the life of someone they love. So many people suffer in silence, afraid of being perceived as vain or selfish. It is truly heart breaking. When I first published my blog a very close friend of mine came over and confessed that he suffers from bulimia. He is in his late thirties, he has three sons. I am the only person who knows. He is too ashamed to seek help. Please keep spreading the word and raising awareness. You never know who it might help x

    ReplyDelete
  18. This is a very moving post. You are very brave sharing your story x #WotW

    ReplyDelete
  19. Well done for this moving post, so brave and will help so many. Thanks for linking up to #brilliantblogposts x

    ReplyDelete
  20. WOW what an honest post. This really reminds me of my step-mum someone who we knew had an eating disorder but one she never admitted to. Sophie you are a very brave lady, I hope you win your battle.

    Thanks for linking up with Small Steps Amazing Achievements :0)
    x

    ReplyDelete
  21. A brave post. Well done.I hope it helps you move on in someway. #pocolo

    ReplyDelete

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...