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Stories Submitted thoughts and stories No one hears
Stories Submitted thoughts and stories No one hears
No one hears |
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activism | anorexia | bereavement | creativity | depression | eating disorder | female | hospital | impact of events from childhood/adolescence | over exercising | peer support (informal) and befriending | self harm | statutory mental health services (+) | stigma/discrimination | stress | support from mental health professionals | taking control | young people
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Author: Zoë Charlotte Mason Published: 16 November 2009 In her story, Zoë talks about her recovery journey from anorexia and bulimia. As part of her recovery journey, Zoë has started a Facebook page called ‘Behind the Haze', where she provides information about Anorexia and Bulimia and shares her thoughts and experiences. Zoë also writes poems about her experiences and has worked with photographer, Amber Joy, to create provocative images to depict the reality of eating disorders. Please note: Zoë has included some of these photographs in this story and they may be unsettling for some readers. Looking back I guess one could say that it's always been there, brimming under the surface. Or rather, she's always been there, my Nervosa. Ever since I hit the teens I have felt agitation, disgust and despair for myself, my actions and my appearance. I repulsed myself both, inside and out. However, when I finally found the motivation to start running regularly, outside and in public, things began to change. I finally felt like I had a hold over my stresses, and I could control how my body formed. Don't get me wrong, I've never been overweight. I have always received compliments for my ‘slim yet hour glass frame'. But it's so easy to pass comment; everything is relative.  The more stress that hit me, the more I ran, and the more I re-formed myself from the outside in. My outlook became so much more positive. I became closer to being the girl I had always wanted to be, calm, caring, spontaneous and lovable. Until this point, I felt the oppressing factors in my life had prevented this from happening and had effectively shaped me into being everything I didn't want to be. My home life had not been great. Yes, I had married parents and we had lovely houses. Yes, I'd had a desirable upbringing (financially speaking) but what worth is money when family bonds are broken and you feel like there is no love? I grew up feeling like there was something fundamentally wrong with me, that I( the pretty little blonde girl) was the source of all negativity. I had never heard the words "I love you".I spent the whole of my teenage years suffering in the depths of depression, despising myself and my very existence. I craved answers. I felt like my mother begrudged me and that I was her verbal punch bag. Why? I couldn't understand it. So I ran, I ate less and I ran. I cut myself off emotionally a little more every day and was finally beginning to feel emancipated from my repulsion. I was floating into a blissful daze; it was beautiful, enticing and surreal. I loved it. Then everything got dark. My Nana passed away with cancer, my Daddy couldn't cope, and my mother couldn't comfort him. My sister had her own ordeals, as did my flatmates who were dealing with their own issues. I became the pillar that held everyone up. I felt all alone and that I was fighting with a withering soul. By this point, I felt like the Nervosa was all that I could turn to and that not a single person in my world had the energy to care. So I held my head and I ran. I ran through rain, sleet and snow. Ran screaming, tears streaming my face and anger oozing from my feet into the pavement. And it was during the month of March that the devil took hold. The day I baked that flipping Tarte Tartin. Nervosa got me to do things I promised myself I would NEVER do. She got me to vomit. At first the purging was just minimal, the odd time here and there. It was nothing to worry about, or so I convinced myself. Did you know that vomiting is addictive? The more I vomited the more I craved it and it soon became paramount to my daily routine. Nervosa was in control, she was in full force. Though what I hadn't anticipated was the debilitated life that it would lead me to. I wasn't living, I merely existed and could barely function. I could no longer run, but boy did I try. My joints were weak, my legs were frail, my teeth ached and my chest burned. I felt permanently shattered. One day in May, following a moment of clarity, I begged a good friend to drag me to the doctors for blood tests. I went reluctantly, kicking and screaming, but I went. And I believe this was the day my recovery began. I finished my University year and I packed up and went home to my parent's house. I enlisted at the NHS Eating Disorder unit in Aberdeen and began my therapy. The support from the psychiatrist, dietician and health doctor was invaluable; I really could not have pulled through the first stages without them.  And of course the ride hasn't been easy. I most certainly did NOT enjoy being jabbed with needles on a weekly basis, being told that I risked a heart attack and that only 40% of sufferers make a full recovery. Similarly, attending hospital tests and being surrounded by OAPS was heartbreaking; as was being told that I risked developing Osteomalacia and/or Osteoporosis later in life, and that I could risk losing my teeth and causing a brain haemorrhage through excessive vomiting. But I kept going, I kept pushing for recovery. I was so weak and I felt like life was no longer beautiful, enticing and surreal as it had once been.For the most part all I did was talk. After so long suffering in silence, feeling isolated and alone, this was all I needed. I love my family and friends dearly, but boy were they clueless. I felt like they kept brushing it off, and hiding heads in sand. They avoided me, ‘forgot' to invite me to events, hid food from my sight, and often screamed at me to stop being so selfish. Needless to say, this was not helpful, if anything it made me retreat to the comfort of the Nervosa. This was when I realised where the real issue lay and it wasn't me at all, most people simply do not understand eating disorders. So I set out to change this, to raise awareness and help break the stigma. I set up a Facebook group called ‘Behind the Haze' and for the first time I spoke openly about my condition. Here I relay facts and information about Anorexia and Bulimia, share my thoughts and experiences; I have my poems (one of which is included at the end of this story) and pictures posted from my darkest hours. I also have pictures from a recent photo shoot that I did with photographer Amber Joy (two of which are included here). We collaborated in an attempt to depict the graphic reality of eating disorders and break down misconceptions and stigma by creating provocative imagery. Although it was an emotional experience, this too was a significant time in my recovery process. By creating this group and sharing my experience, my hope has been to raise awareness of the experience of eating disorders, as well as offer hope that recovery is possible. The response has been so very warming (and somewhat overwhelming at times); it provides me with hope that one day people will be able to speak freely of their experiences and will receive the care they need from their loved ones and from society. Since setting up the group, I too have found hope with regards to my own condition. In raising awareness I have rid myself from the fear of talking about my condition. And in writing this piece, I have really had to delve into the depths of what went on. Of course, it's still so painful and raw to reminisce over but talking/writing about it helps alleviate that pain little by little. Whilst I acknowledge that I am recovering from Anorexia Nervosa and Bulima, I am by no means fully recovered...yet! Right now I still have days where I can't get out of bed and days when I can't keep food down at all. Though having been to hospital and learnt the facts, I know what I am doing to my body and I know that with support I can get through. It's a sad truth but relapse does happen, but the difference now is that I'm stronger and I know that I can break free once more. Communication is so very important and I urge others to talk openly too and to express their feelings, however painful it may be. To anyone that has suffered or is suffering in silence please know that I have been there and be assured that you will be able to find peace through perseverance. July 17th 2008 I'm in a daze, My mind a haze, Clarity is lost in this perpetual maze. I cry for help and no one hears, ‘Self infliction' warrants no sympathy. Weeks go by, corrosion prevails. I am an entity, existing not living. I cry for help and no one hears. Nothing but internal pain, anguish and fear. I'm in a daze, My mind a haze, Clarity is lost in this perpetual maze. I cry for help... someone hears, But pills are not enough to cure these fears. I'm in a daze, My mind a haze, Clarity is lost in this perpetual maze. If you’d like to share your thoughts or experiences of recovery then contact us on This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it or 0141 240 7790 to discuss. Click here to go back to previous page Photographs are copyright of Amber Joy and may not be reproduced with out her permission. |
Story Tags
activism community/socialising/inclusion coping strategies creativity depression employment (+) exercise female hospital male medication medication (-) peer support (informal) and befriending seeing things differently self knowledge/learning/growth self management sense of self support from family support from friends support from mental health professionals supportive spouse/partner taking control talking therapies voluntary mental health services volunteering Story disclaimer
The stories presented here are for information only. They are meant to inspire hope and show that recovery can and does happen. The stories highlight various examples of recovery and we do not advocate any of these experiences as the ‘right’ way to recover. Recovery is an individual and unique process, each person must decide for himself or herself what will work for them. Please carefully consider any decisions you make about your own recovery and consult with someone you trust if you feel unsure. See our Submit Your Thoughts pages for details on how to submit a story to us or you can contact us.
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