Traveling with Anorexia

Tuesday, May 19, 2015
A week from now I will be in Utah, spending my days laughing and exploring with my best friend and her kids. Her kids have no idea I'm coming, neither does she as my trip is a surprise for her birthday. I am so excited. It's been too long since I've been out west, since I've seen real mountains, since I've heard her kids laugh and spent an evening comfortable in the chaos that comes with a 8 person household. She on the other hand has been freaking out ever since I bought the ticket. She knows that this trip is going to completely upend the daily routine and schedule we've come to a tenuous agreement on. The times I normally eat will change, my go-to food choices might not be available. There will be moments where I will be faced with foods she still has not let me touch. My daily walks might not happen, exercise might be removed as an option. I might gain weight, and this to her is completely unacceptable. This trip will be good for me in so many ways, but chief among them is that this is a completely unmarked battleground, and entirely new fight that I am determined to not let her win.

~*~*~*~

Thursday, May 28, 2015
I am now more than halfway through my week in Utah. It has been fun and wonderful, and I so love the days I've shared with my best friend, and hearing her children's laughter again. But it definitely hasn't been smooth sailing. Before leaving Maine, my therapist and I discussed this trip and how to handle it. We had a greed that on my flying days I didn't necessarily half to eat everything I normally would, because pre-anorexia I never ate much while flying. The whole event of being stuck sitting in planes and breathing airport air was uncomfortable enough and eating would just make me feel worse.

When I left for the airport Saturday morning, I did so not planning on eating much but with a bag full of fruit, almonds, granola bars and turkey jerky just in case. I didn't feel like I was skipping or giving in to her demands that day because I had discussed my plans with another person, one whose mind was not clouded by eating disordered thoughts, and had their ok. As a result the day didn't quite seem real. It was almost liked I'd stepped out of my life and rules, and was instead in some floating otherworld. 

My days in Utah up to now though have been a hard crash back to my reality. I'd thought that if I woke up each morning and walked the amount of time I normally do each day in Maine than I would be able to eat meals and snacks without issue. On some days that has been somewhat the case, but in truth each day has ranged from gravel roads to jagged mountain peaks in terms of staying on course. Since being here I've done a lot more sitting than usual, and once more it's messed with my mind and my power over her. There are meals I've left things out of, my mind has been racing with thoughts of food and exercise. Some nights it's gotten so bad that I wake up with food being the first conscious thought I have. That really scares me.

On my morning walk today I did a little running. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I knew that my next steps and actions were would determine if I was going to slip backwards. I went home and told Steph. I told her I would make up for the running this morning (and I did) and that if we did any other exercise today she would need to ask me tonight if I'd eaten extra. I said that we also needed to go get pedicures so that I could fight her rules on sitting down by doing something truly enjoyable, relaxing and kind to myself.

I feel stronger tonight. Tomorrow I hope to let myself fight back even more. I want my last night to truly just be me and Steph with no disordered voices getting in the way. I hope I can make that happen.

~*~*~*~

Tuesday June 2, 2015
I’ve been home for two days now. The flight back from Utah was tougher for several reasons. One of course, was that the vacation was over and I was getting further away from my best friend by the second without knowing the next time I’d see her. But food wise it was harder as well. I didn’t eat everything that day, and part of it was because I legitimately wasn’t hungry (airports and planes really zap away any appetite I may have), but there was a larger element of her influence as well. I felt less like I was living out of my life for a day, and more like I was giving into her demands by not eating. I have though,managed to slide back into my normal routine fairly easily.

Without doubt last Wednesday and Thursday were my worst days of that trip. I loved being there, and those days were filled with fun, girl times, family events and lots of laughter, but I also really struggled with what the constant flood of putdowns, insults and self-doubt swirling around in my mind. I woke up on Friday determined to not let her turn an adventure with my best friend into a failure of my strength.I'm pretty sure I was successful.

Early in my trip, at a grocery store one night, we found a bottle of Diet Coke that had her name on it. Steph suggested that we get it, and for a little therapy have me throw it up on the air and watch it explode on the pavement outside. On my last night that is exactly what we did, behind her house in the church parking lot with her kids watching (they loved it although they didn’t quite get the significance or meaning the moment held). It felt amazing to fling her away from me, to watch the bottle crash and its contents slowly disappear into the ground. Afterwards we curled up in her living room and watched Stardust and ate dinner. My meal was a combination of scary and not-so-scary options and like every meal I’ve had for the last almost two years, there was an element of fear associated with each bite. But there was also a small feeling of carefree abandon that I haven’t felt in I can’t even remember how long.

I can't possibly describe the rush of freedom and joy that overwhelmed me when I realized what has happened. It was powerful and strong and I feel like that moment was a huge step forward in my path to recovery. Almost like my path before had been a maze with impossibly high walls, but now they've been cut in half and I can just see over the tops and the beautiful life waiting for me once I find the route outside.

I'm very grateful that this happened, because since I've been home something has happened that will set in motion a lot of very big changes for me in the coming months. I'll share what that is soon but for now I'll just say I believe in the end that good things will come from this. There is however quite a bit of risk and not knowing involved, and yesterday in particular I was hit with a tsunami of fear that held the promise of failure. She told me that I needed to skip eating because of it, and before last Friday have. Instead I managed to turn her demands in to a background buzz and did what I knew was the right thing for me.

It is interesting to read what I wrote two weeks ago, last Thursday, and today. I'm not sure if the changes are noticable to others but I certainly see them. Of course, I can also remember the emotions I felt then, and I know what I feel now. I'm sick of it, sick of her. Bored with the constant threats, demands and fears she floods my mind with daily. I want more carefree happiness, and I want more memories with friends that don't have the worlds worst third wheel tagging along. I still have quite a long gravely, mountain path to traverse, but I think that last week I covered more miles than I ever could have imagined. Of course it helped to have my best partner in crime by side.