Sunday, 3 August 2014

Falling off the Wagon

That's right.  The Wagon has been a little wobbly this week, and I have fallen off in many ways:

1. Diet Wagon
I seem to be able to do really well for about 3 days, but then the call of chocolate becomes too great.  And I always find that once I have a little bit, I want more.. then a bit more... then a LOT more.  I'm not a binger - it's more that I simply have a few biscuits; but this is enough to throw me off track...  So... Ray and I are officially going to try the 5:2 diet!  First "fast" day tomorrow.  Will report back :)

2.  Eating Disorder Wagon
This is not such a delight.  As most of you know, I struggled with anorexia when I was in my teens.  Then a few years of on and off bulimia. And whilst the dieting problems above are a good sign that my anorexic days are behind me, I've had a little nudge from  my bulimic brain in the last week.  It hasn't been at any particular stage (e.g. I haven't eaten too much, or had something particularly awful) but I've had the sudden urge from nowhere to go and throw it up.  I haven't succumbed; but I'm so surprised that the urge is there!  I think it's to do with the life change I've gone through by having a little more childcare. I know it sounds ridiculous, but often when things change drastically for whatever reason (good or bad), I have to make sure I have projects to fill my time whilst things settle down.  Luckily, I know that throwing up once is where it all begins - the addiction to do it again and again.  For those of you who haven't had this delightful condition, perhaps liken it to just having one fag for an ex-smoker, or a little drink for an alcoholic.  As it is, I can observe it from a distance; but it won't get me again, I'm determined.

3.  Anxiety Wagon
See!  I told you falling off a wagon wasn't good.  It started when I read a piece in the newspaper where an ex-depression sufferer remarked that he knew, despite being "better" that it could grip him again anytime; then a woman remarked when reading my website that it was interesting I described myself as an ex-anxiety sufferer, as she'd never heard ANYONE call themselves that.  Both of these things festered in my mind for a little while...  Let's just say, it rocked me a little bit. Because when you open the door to doubt, anxiety is quite happy to slip through the crack and make itself quite at home.  So I've felt a little wibbly.

But the thing is - any of us, at ANY time, whatever our history, could start suffering from mental or physical illness out of the blue.  I call myself an ex-sufferer because you have to draw a line in the sand.  I may get the odd wibble, but being in a fug of anxiety is something I AM DETERMINED will never happen again.  We may say "I used to get eczema," for example - and we all know it can come back.  But it's anxiety itself that stops sufferers describing themselves as 'ex-sufferers' - as if they are tempting fate. 

So here's the line, anxiety, here's the line, bulimia  _________ Now bugger off.

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