Grateful Series: The BestWorst Two Years - A letter to YOU
This is a letter I wish I had known how to write at the time. An important letter I realise every loving parent, friend and sibling needs to be the recipient of. It may be a little late for me (but probably not really) but even so, it's a letter I'm writing now...to help YOU, and to assist my fellow warriors. It's a couple of paragraphs I hope will explain, a little, and as much as possible, what YOU could do. How you can help, or maybe just be there in the best way. The reality is, myself, and those like me, are the only knights in shining armour that can save ourselves. You need to let us do that. However, that being said, every person we come into contact with that has the capability - or permission - to shape us, are essential in the process it takes to get us back...
Dear mom, dad, siblings and friends,
I am at war with myself, and I don't know how to win this one.
I want to enjoy life. To relish in life's beauty. To celebrate all the good things, share all the hard things with loving humans, explore all the new things, and reminisce about all the past things...
I want to laugh.
I want to love.
I want to include you.
I want to explore.
...and let go...
...and say YES...
...and decide when I want to say no...
But I am so tightly bound by a rope that gives me just an arm's length of freedom...just for a moment. A fraction of slack, before taking my breath away and strangling me again for what feels like an age. On repeat.
Every.
Single.
Day.
I know it's hard for you to witness, because to you, it seems that I am the only one tightening the noose around my neck. That, physically, I am the one doing to myself what no other loving person in my life could do to me. I suppose from your perspective you are right. It's torture. It's scary. It's unkind to the vessel that carries me.
But don't discount the fact that I know my body is phenomenal. What it can do? Pfft, you don't need to remind me. I know. The fact that I can run for kilometers, feel the reassuring heat of the sun on my skin, see beyond the palms of my hands, talk, sing, dance, love, soak up information and release information just as easily. My body is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! I think what happened is a divide seemed to develop: It got a bit disconnected. I mean, even how I talk about my body, it feels like an it. Not like an extension of ME. And the sad part is it feels to me like we are working against each other in every possible way.
I think my story is a little bit different to some other eating disorder sufferers, but the symptoms are still pretty much the same. I need you to understand that prior to losing weight, I didn't have an entirely healthy relationship with food. In my school years I would eat, and eat, and eat with no signs of stopping even though I was full - hating myself for my lack of control - and try to regain control by hitting the road for long runs that I hoped would make me feel better. It was so exhausting! I was miserable.
Then post-school I did the Banting course. That's when the weight loss process started. I was pretty chubby before I changed my diet and I felt really good about myself when the change started to reflect on my waistline. Initially, people told me I looked good. They didn't say I had lost weight or gotten thinner or toned up, just simply that I was looking beautiful. I was in a very good place at this point in time. I NEVER thought about food, but when my stomach gave me a little rumble, or I felt a little low on energy, I would nourish my body with the right foods. It was a partnership and it was 6 months of pure bliss. After a while of living in this happy space, the comments from people around me shifted to those of concern. Not because I was super thin, but I guess maybe they could see further into the future than I could. It was pretty hard for me to have these comments fired at me all the time, because not once did I ever starve myself. Ever. Believe me when I say that. But I was very conscious of what I was eating for a while, and then it just became natural to make those healthy choices because my body absolutely thrived off of the foods I was now eating.
Anyway, that was just the prologue. I suppose the issue came after I had my operation and lost another 13kgs. When I emerged from 2 weeks of no eating as a little skeleton, you were all justified to be a little shocked, and I am sorry that you had to go through that. It must have been pretty tough. But I assure you, it was pretty tough for me too... because I was told I had a problem, even before I had a problem. That does something to your psychology.
I wish you could have asked...
Leading up to the op I was a healthy eater who had done a course that focussed on the mantra: Eat when hungry. Then my stomach shrank to pea-size, I only ate when I was hungry, which meant I ate until I was full, but it was not a lot of food at all. You all told me I was restricting myself. You all told me I was lying to everyone including myself. So I was torn between making all of you happy by eating in front of you, trying to make my body happy by eating the right foods, and abiding by the "Ëat When Hungry" lesson I had learnt in my courses. I was also confused because despite what you all said, I didn't believe I was starving myself.
I was at a loss.
I was doing everything "right" according to my Banting lifestyle I had adopted, but everyone was criticising me for it. In hindsight, I know most of the people who were worried genuinely cared and were concerned about my life, but sometimes there is a better way to express that concern. Once again, I wish I could have been asked. To have the chance to talk to you instead of being diagnosed as something I wasn't yet. And I say yet, because from there I would say I developed anorexic tendencies. BUT, once again, I never, ever starved myself. Not once. I could never do that. My process was more: eat when hungry (I was hardly ever hungry), stop when full (I got full very quickly off basically nothing), exercise regularly (I did at least an hour of exercise a day) and don't eat anything unhealthy (I avoided most carbs and hardly touched sugar).
And then, naturally, the weight melted from me and I suddenly saw a version of myself I never thought I would. It was nice. I liked it. I didn't want to lose it. I loved shopping for smaller sized clothing. I loved feeling confident in a bikini. I just felt good - but the issue was that I felt all of those things before I was 13kgs lighter, and then I felt even better now. Instead of recognising that I was a bit skinny, I got a bit caught up in the feeling. So when you continued to tell me to put on weight and that I should eat more, that was when it became all too much for me. And I started developing my own coping mechanisms...
A day in the life of...
Wake up, not hungry, Banting lifestyle + Intermittent Fasting meant my first meal was at 12pm (a lot of people do this by the way). So I would do a bit of exercise and have a coffee before my first meal, build up an appetite and enjoy a boiled egg, cheese and some veg on most days. If I was ever hungry after that, I snacked on nut butters or cheese. But, if I had dinner arrangements in the evening, or I knew I was going out for a glass of wine, I knew I had to be hungry to eat enough to satisfy your eyes, so I would make sure I had small snacks during the day to get me by until the evening where I could have a big meal. It was frustrating because it meant I suddenly had to go from my healthy relationship with food - where it wasn't on my mind unless I was hungry - to making sure I was eating with people even if I was or wasn't hungry. It was tough. Then even though I did this, there would still be those few who would add food to my plate or make their comments. NB point: Don't add food to our plates. You cannot force feed someone.
This has pretty much been the struggle up until now. I've slowly relinquished control and allowed myself to indulge in treats more often (I have chocolate and cheese and wine almost every day). I still don't feel hunger very often, but in order to fit into society (more for your sake) I eat just to be sociable, which is actually quite hard for me and I know that may be weird for you to think about.
But here is the most important tip of all for you: when we do start putting on weight, it is VERY SCARY! I know that may sound strange, but it's hard to watch and feel the process. So please, please don't say things to us like "Ahh Jamie, you're looking so much better!" or "it's nice to see you've put some meat on your bones" because all we hear is "you're looking fat" and more often than not, it sends us spiralling out of control again.
So that's me...That's the honest truth from someone who fell into this.
What about you? What did I want from you? I just wanted you to love me. The me that is me to you. Just hold me when you felt you wanted to, ask me anything that is on your mind, take me aside away from food and restaurants and people and have a two-way conversation with ME. Don't gossip about "Jamie's food issues" with your friends or other people. Don't force food onto my plate, or comment on my portion sizes, or sit and watch me eat, or talk about food all the time. Just love me through it all, because I am figuring it all out and consciously working through it. I am also not on YOUR timeline. I am on mine. So don't expect me to suddenly be okay when you think I should be - that's unrealistic. This is a process...
I love you all. You're support has meant the world to me. While you may not always have known what to do, I have never doubted your love for me.
J
Everything in this letter is case-specific. It describes what I needed. But as I have said before, I didn't choose this. It happened to me. I think when things are more serious and your child or friend isn't eating enough by choice or is eating too much and gorging themselves to cope, maybe it requires a different approach. But I stand by the approach that comes from a place of love and a two-way conversation. We need to talk about these issues.
