Authors: Constance Barter

Mealtimes and Milestones (16 page)

‘The support here is incredible, especially from the amazing staff – you really do help to turn young people’s lives around, and I really do appreciate every bit of it, and to
the young people, just keep going because we
all
deserve so much better than illness and I’m going to miss everyone here so much.’

In my Leaving Group I had a gold canvas and I got people to do hand prints on it. I wanted them to do this so that I had something to take away with me, and it reflects on all
our individualities.

When it is time to leave everyone makes a tunnel going from the door, so you hug everyone and then go under everyone’s arms out of the door. Everyone in that tunnel had contributed to my
recovery.

So that was it – it was goodbye to hospital and anorexia and I welcome my future with a sense of positivity and self-belief. I am now closer to my future than I was yesterday, and I know
that I can do this . . .

AFTER DISCHARGE

August 2009

That was my journey through hospital as an in-patient in an eating disorders unit. You have read my hopelessness and hopefulness. You have read each of
my diligent steps through recovery from anorexia.

I have done amazingly well since being discharged and the devil of anorexia has no power over me. Yes, very, very, occasionally some days are still hard, and I do want to return to it, but I
can’t. I don’t want to be remembered now as the anorexic, or the girl with the tube; instead I want to be known as Constance. I love being free, and I am now living the life that I have
always imagined.

When I think back, I often can’t believe that I have got to this point. Two years ago all I wanted to do was starve myself to death, in the belief that it would make me a better person.
When I read that article in the newspaper in September, I thought that anorexia would be something that I would just have to put up with and base my life around, but in actual fact, now it
isn’t part of my life at all – apart from in a positive way, by raising awareness. I am now a Young Ambassador for Beat
³³which means that, by
working with the media, I try to help change the stereotypes that people face when suffering from an eating disorder. I love not having to live by inner rules and I love understanding myself and
feeling comfortable with who I am. Ironically, instead of seeking happiness by trying to fulfil my previous desires, I have found my happiness by restricting them.

After my discharge I met with my out-patient therapist once a week. The first time I saw her was a few days after I’d left hospital and I didn’t really want to see her, so the
session was very awkward. I didn’t want to have to make new connections; it just felt like another thing to have to do. But you can’t tell people about how you are feeling until you
trust them, so first I had to learn to trust her. It helped to think that I would much rather be meeting someone from an out-patient team than being an in-patient again. Once we had built up a
relationship the support was invaluable, and it has been one of the reasons why I’ve been able to stay healthy.

The work of the out-patient staff was to maintain me through recovery, but I began this long journey in hospital. The staff there were so fantastic, and although we gave them little gifts when I
left, no presents will never repay them for what they have done and supported me through – their work is priceless. They fought with me against anorexia. And they helped me to win.

When I was discharged I didn’t follow a meal plan, nor was I weighed. We talked this through with my out-patient team and my parents and we all felt that it was the right decision for me.
I had worked really hard at trying to detach myself from weights and figures, and I knew from the moment I walked out of the doors of the hospital that I wanted to lead a normal life. I understood
that if there were any doubts about my health then I would need to be weighed and go back on to a meal plan. Inside me, though, I had enough self-belief to know that it wouldn’t be necessary.
However, I’ve had to realize that some parts of my life I won’t be able to return to. I am now doing exercise in a normal healthy way, yet running is just too dangerous a trigger for
me. I started running in competitions again and qualifying for further races, but it started to unbalance me, and it was just too much of a risk, so I had to pull out. Although this makes me sad
and I really want to be able to continue to run, I just have to accept that it is too dangerous for me to return to it.

My life since discharge hasn’t always been an easy ride, and it is important to note that I did suffer a relapse for about two months around Christmas time 2008. The voice crept back in
and I started excessively exercising again in secret. My mum instinctively knew that something was wrong and was vigilant and tried to find a way for me to open up, but I just kept pushing her away
and saying that I was fine. It took about two weeks for me to acknowledge that I was slipping back down into my destructive habits, but because of the work I had done in hospital I was able to
recognize what was happening, and I finally took the decision to confide in my mum. Immediately my support network stepped up again and I was able to come through it.

I would imagine that it is common for a relapse to occur during recovery, and it is essential to remember that if you suffer a relapse it doesn’t mean that you are a bad person, or that
you have let people around you down, because you haven’t. I remember feeling such a huge guilt because of all the effort that people had put into helping me, but actually recovery is such a
huge task, and
no one
is expecting it to be plain sailing. Also, if you do experience a relapse, it doesn’t mean that things will go back to the way they were, because I think
somewhere inside you realize that you don’t want to go back to anorexia, and in fact it was my memories of how bad things were that helped to get me through. Unlike the first time when my mum
took me to the doctor, when I was so cross with her because I didn’t want any help, this time was different, and I was very grateful for the extra support, and that my appointments with my
out-patient therapist could easily be increased depending on how I was feeling. It was also really helpful when both my therapist and my parents said to me, ‘We will
not
let you get
ill again.’ In fact, we didn’t name it as a relapse; we just referred to it as a small dip in my recovery – which, to be honest, is how I would also describe it. Acknowledging
what was happening was the first step, and because I was able to do this, the healthy side of me was able to get stronger and stronger again, and within a couple of months the anorexia had left me
– for the last time.

I’ve learnt to balance my time between work and social time. More importantly, I have realized that I am not defined by my exam grades, and that people don’t like me or dislike me
because of my academic work. I went back to school normally, and it was really helpful that my school didn’t put any pressure on me to perform academically, and not having my challenge grades
helped me not to make school work an obsession again. The same arrangement applied for sport: if I was having a hard day it wasn’t compulsory for me to attend sport. I saw my tutor
individually every week, and we reviewed the week and how I was managing school life. All of this support at school was really beneficial and helped me feel secure during the days. I managed to
catch up on all of the work that I missed, and now I am so relieved that I didn’t take ten GCSEs because it wouldn’t have been possible – it would have been totally unrealistic to
attempt it while I was trying to stay focused on recovery after discharge. It didn’t make sense at the time, but I now understand that my health is far more important than exam grades and
numbers. In the end I did really well in my GCSEs and I was very happy. However, if they hadn’t come out as I wanted, then although I think I would have been disappointed for a couple of
days, and possibly sad for longer, I’m pretty sure that I would have been able to get over it, because I now don’t judge myself on academic results – and I’ve got my health
back.

I know that I have got amazing friends and family. They were, and still are, so supportive. My parents were so unswerving in their love for me, and they always believed that I would get better
– not that I could get better; that I
would
get better. So although sometimes I got annoyed with them, the fact that they believed in me was what counted. We grew and blossomed as a
family and learnt to be open with each other about how we were feeling. However, shockingly, just over a year after my discharge, in March 2009 my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and he
died less than three months later. Yet even out of this tragedy and my everlasting grief I hope that I am able to take one positive thing – I hope that this shows that it is possible to stay
healthy and strong throughout the most extreme and hardest of adversities. This harrowing experience has shown me that I don’t need anorexia as a safety net any more. When the horrible news
about his illness came, I didn’t immediately return to my eating disorder for security – in fact, it was the last thing on my mind, because I knew that I wanted to spend as much time as
possible with my dad, and I certainly didn’t want to spend it wrapped in anorexia. This has now proved to me that I am fully recovered from my eating disorder. My dad was such an important
part of my recovery and he helped me in so many ways to get through my illness; I just wish that there was some way in which I could have helped save him from his illness. In a sad and twisted way,
at least I can now say that we are both free of our suffering from our illnesses, and I know that he is always with me.

For anyone suffering from anorexia, I want you to know that there is always hope. Even when you feel like you are trapped inside the prison of anorexia, there is always a key to unlock the door
and let yourself out. It will take time, and patience, and the urge to get better won’t come overnight. But honestly, it will come one day. Let others hold hope there for you if you
don’t feel able to see it.

Putting weight on is possibly the hardest part about recovery, but, just as I had to learn that I am not defined by my academic work, I also had to learn that I am not judged by my weight. Your
weight is just a number, and that number isn’t who you are. It is just a number. I used to hate it when people said to me, ‘You look really good,’ or ‘You look a lot
better,’ because I just interpreted that as
‘I look fat.’
It helped me to think really hard about what I actually saw and what other people saw, and to realize that people
were only trying to be nice when they said those things, and it was my anorexia which was interpreting those comments in a different way. Along with that, I started to feel so much better
physically. I didn’t faint, my muscles didn’t ache, I wasn’t tired and I was able to do more things. The things I love. Finally, the professionals won’t, and will never, let
you get ‘fat’ – they will make you healthy again. It is such a negative and harmful word that can unbalance people so easily, and yet actually it isn’t important at all
because you should feel proud and confident with who you are. If you try to keep all these positive things in mind it really does help. Use the support of others around you, because they are there
to help you. You have the strength inside you to carry on. I want you to get to where I am now – and I know that you can. Believe in yourself. You can.

My true identity has finally revealed itself to me. I am now the author and decision-maker of my life; anorexia is not, and it never will be again.