Closing Chapters No. 2

A few weeks ago, I started with my first challenge: I threw away my little girl cloths.

On Monday, I closed a second chapter: I cleared my locker in my old gym, a place where I had spent 3-4 hours a day, 6 or 7 days a week for months.

I had postponed this task again and again, always finding an excuse in order to not having to face that situation.

When I walked into my gym (accompanied by my husband), I had ambivalent feelings.

On the one hand, a part of me felt melancholic and yearned for the „good old times“ (although, those times weren’t good at all). This place felt like home to me for such a long time and it had become part of my identity. I have to admit that I was quite tempted to put on my gym cloths and go upstairs for just one final workout (as if this would have been it...).  Walking to my locker seeing familiar faces, hearing familiar voices, part of me felt lost and was mad that I had given up this place. I rush of memories and feelings came back to me, including the way I felt before my workouts and the way I felt afterwards.

 And it was here that the other, more rational part of me took over. Despite feeling happy, proud and strong after my workouts, I remembered the terror, the pressure and the burden I felt before my workouts. I remembered how I entered the locker room so many times, hardly able to walk, feeling dizzy and weak and not knowing how in the world I could make it through my workout. I thought of how much time I had wasted on the treadmill, on the elliptical on those bikes etc. I remembered almost crying, feeling like I was about to get sick because of the enormous task ahead of me. Why did I torment myself in this dimension?

I do not miss these side effects of my disorder and I hope that the healthy part of myself will kick in and take over more and more space of my brain, helping me find a balanced way of exercising.

On the way down in the elevator, my bag of workout cloths in hand, I felt a huge sense of relief; relief that I had finally been able to overcome my fears, relief that I had closed yet another door.

A peculiar couple

Andreas and I had a MAJOR breakthrough on the weekend.

We COOKED TOGETHER... for the very first time.

You may ask yourself, why is this such a big deal and why did it take us this long?
To be quite frank, it is all my fault.

At the beginning of our relationship, I was even too self-conscious to empty the dishwasher when Andreas was in the kitchen.
Cooking with Andreas was not going to happen. The fear of being judged was just too strong. I was so scared of making a mistake.
After all, I have been told my whole life that I was doing everything wrong, that I was just too stupid to live and that I was just a girl.

Andreas always cooked for me, but I could not be in the kitchen, did not want to know what exactly was in the sauce that I was eating, how much cream he used or how much milk. I feared that I would eat less or that I would start counting calories again.
Even though Andreas cooked for me, he never ate with me. He, too, did not want to change his eating habits. This was of course a huge obstacle for me too. It was weird to eat alone, when he was just sitting there drinking his coffee. But I ate nontheless and we talked and had fantastic conversations. I am not sure why he decided to start eating with me, what the final push was, but I am thrilled that we can now both start working towards being a "normal" couple with "normal" eating habits.

We had talked about cooking together for quite some time, but only managed to do so on Saturday.
We prepared everything matched popatoes from scratch. And cooked liver, stewed onions and green pepper. It was super yummy and will be one of my favorite meals for all time.

desert... ;)

hmmmmmm

our attmept at eating civilized ended rather abruplty... but it was soooo goood.

“I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I’ll touch, meh! meh!”

I will share what we made on Sunday in an upcoming blog post. And I am sure that there will be tons of those cooking stories in the future. Let me know if you are interested in a "cooking section" and I will continue to take pictures of what we ate or even journalize the different steps of preparing the meal. 

Closing Chapters No. 1

Part of my healing process includes actively closing doors that could potentially lead to picking up old habits again.

On Easter I threw away three bags of cloths, some of them older than 10 years.

It was a difficult task. I did not cry, but was often on the verge of doing so. I felt like with each shirt, pair of jeans, sweater or skirt I gave up part of myself. I had the impression of throwing half my life away.

Every single piece of clothing was connected to at least one memory, one event, something that made it special to me and definitely worth keeping it.

At the same time - holding on to these cloths would be like leaving a backdoor for my eating disorder open. Why would I need cloths that I wore when I was eleven or twelve?

Thinking about it rationally, it is “sick” to still have the same size as I had 12 years ago.

But isn’t it peculiar – in a good way – that my taste in cloths did not really change in all those years?! You can definitely see my mom’s influence on me in that fact. My mom has a very classical, timeless look and it seems like I adopted that, well, at least in part. I hardly ever went with the trend and wore whatever I liked, instead of what was IN at that time.

My anorexic part of the brain is extremely proud of the fact that I still fit in jeans that I wore 12 years ago. When I look at a picture of myself in front of the MGM Grand in 2001 wearing pants that are way too big now (and I was tiny back then), I can’t help but be thrilled.

However, when I really think about it, I realize that this is a rather sad fact: while every other girl in my class went through puberty and changed into a young woman, I stood still and stayed the same. I did not give my body the chance to develop and do what it is meant to be. I did not allow myself to become a woman and instead just stayed a girl- on the inside and on the outside. I did not allow myself to grow up.

I now know that I did this to protect myself. Growing up means taking control of your life, making your own decisions, standing on your own feet.

But growing up would have meant to deal with my brother, to stand tall against him and to

I wasn’t strong enough at that time to fight him. I did not have the courage to look him in the eye and make it very clear where his boundaries lie. So, I turned all my attention to my weight and my body and I got obsessed with it. It gave me a reason to live, but at the same time it gave me a perfect excuse to just mark time.

But I have had enough. I have the strength now to confront my worst fears and to grow up. I want to be a woman, not a girl anymore. And throwing away most of the cloths that I wore as a child and teenager is a huge step in the right direction. 

The Hangover Parts I, II & III

When I came to the clinic, I had not been taking antidepressants for almost a year.
After a week or two of my treatment, I was feeling so “down” that I agreed to start taking a light antidepressant again. At first, I felt like this was a step back; I had been so sure that I had left the chapter of antidepressants behind and admitting to myself that I needed help in form of medication was difficult. I did not see it as the perfect solution.
However, it didn’t take too long for me to view this as a step FORWARD, a step towards “functioning” again. After all, taking an antidepressant at the present doesn’t mean that I will have to take it forever. What it does mean is that I feel better NOW and that helps me to take the steps needed in order to feel better IN THE FUTURE.

Due to my lack of sleep in the past few weeks and the horrible nightmares that have tormented me, we decided to replace my antidepressant with one that I could take at night (instead of in the morning) in the hope of helping me get my much-needed sleep.
And, oh boy, does it work. I have been sleeping like a rock, catching up on all the weeks of tossing and turning, of falling asleep around 1 or 2 am and waking up around 4 am.

However, as most things in life, this too comes with its side effects. The so-called hangover effect gets to me the most. During the last three days, I have been feeling dizzy, the world seemed blurry, my head has always seemed heavy and I have been feeling slightly sick. Plus, I have been feeling even more melancholic than usually. All in all, I have not been myself. So, if this post is a bit random, blame it on the meds…
But, since it has only been three days, I am confidant that these side effects will fade away and that I will feel like myself again in a few days.
And THEN the advantages will easily outweigh the disadvantages!!! :)

Moving (again)

Update after 1 week at the clinic.

Day One: Confusion

Today was an extremely uneventful day, except for the fact that I had to step on the scale. That was all. 

I spent my day  in my room despite the georgous weather. I don`t know if I am allowed to leave the area and go for a walk. I am quite confused because the doctor tells me one thing, the nurses tell me the opposite. Who (or is it "whom"?) do I believe?

First, they tell me that I can leave the compound as often as I want and that I should even go home on the weekend.
Then, this morning, the doctor told me that I was not even allowed to leave the compound and that I could not go home, no matter my state of mind.
The problem is that I am so shy and insecure that I just cannot ask what to do now. I am such a coward, but when I stand in front of them, I just cannot get the words out. So, I will have to wait and see.

I lost 8 pounds since I was weighed the last time and now only have a BMI of 15. My weight was 36.8 kilograms. I was shocked and still am. I NEVER, not in a million years, would have thought that I was THAT skinny and I cannot begin to imagine how little I must have weighed 3 months ago, when I stopped functioning.
If my BMI drops below 15, I will not be allowed to go home on the weekends, leave the compound or participate in physical therapy and I will, of course, have to stay much longer.

Despite knowing these facts, I am almost going crazy because I ate 3 meals today and I cannot work out. I am terrified of what the scale will say tomorrow morning. I am not sure how I will be able to deal with the shame should I gain a tiny bit of weight. I do not know how I would be able to look my doctor in the eye.

I hope the time of diagnosis will be over soon. I really need them to start my therapeutic program.

BUT I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF THE VIEW. I HIT THE JACKPOT WITH MY ROOM!

My new friend

Cats always know when you need someone, when you are in pain or lonely and desperate. 

Luna knew I needed her today, so she came and stayed with me for several hours and she consoled me, gave me the feeling of not being alone. 

Despite all the prayers, thoughts, the outpouring of love coming my way, there is nothing that can replace a physical hug or someone to hold on to. Luna was the one for me today and just a few minutes ago, when I hit a low point, a little someone jumped on my bed and snuggled up next to me.
How in the world does this cute little creature know just when her presence is needed?
Cats are mysterious...

the pictures did not turn out that great because of the backlight. Maybe I will take some more tomorrow...

Everything is about to change

on Wednesday at 10am.

Spes

There is HOPE. 

It looks like our health insurance will cover the costs of a treatment at the Kilchberg clinic. It is still not 100% certain, but usually there is no problem.  Squeeee!
I have an appointment on Thursday for my medical examination and a therapy session and then I should be ready to be admitted. Squeeee again!
 

Let us hope everything goes smoothly now.

I got a call.

My doctor's secretary left me a voicemail this afternoon while I was in class. 

The news I got weren't what I was hoping for. It will take AT LEAST 4 weeks until I will be able to start my therapy. I was praying that I would not take that long. 

I really don't know how to go on for 4 more weeks; I doubt I can, not like that.

Well, I talked to the secretary of a different clinic and it looks like they could admit me next week, if everything goes smoothly. I haven't visited the clinic, but it is supposed to be a great one too. They treat not only eating disorders, but also other forms of mental sicknesses. So, they could even help me with the anxiety issues and so much more.
And they have a day hospital that would be a perfect bridge leading me back to reality after the critical part of the therapy.

Sounds great, right? Well, the thing is that this is a private clinic and I have no idea yet if our health insurance covers the costs of the program. This could turn out to be a huge problem. I hope to get all the information I need before the weekend.

I have been trying to contact one of the doctors in order to make an appointment for a physical examination, but I was always put on hold. Since I don't have any classes tomorrow and only have to study, study, study, I can try to call him nonstop. ;)

The thing is that if I was admitted to that clinic next week, I could have done major steps already by the time that the Universitätsklinik could offer me a place to stay. 

The downside is that I have enrolled myself in fascinating projects in the next weeks and I would miss all of those, whereas my schedule would be a bit less interesting in the months of late April and May. 

But these are only secondary factors. 

Alright, I have rambled on for way too long now. I need to sleep. 

Good night, everbody and (since it is already Friday here) I wish you a HAPPY FRIDAY!

More than I deserve!

Today, I received a package from the US that brightened my day.
My very good friends Stephanie and Cliff from gspn.tv sent me a signed copy of Candace Cameron Bure's book "Reshaping It All". Cliff and Stephanie recently did an interview with the author for Family From the Heart, one of their many podcasts. Candace shared how she struggled with food and how she gained a healthy perspective, ultimately overcoming her disorder.
I knew that they would send me this book, because they mentioned it during the interview, but I still teared up - what else, right? ;) - when I opened the package. Having friends who care so deeply about me, is still unfathomable to me and it gives me more strenght and solace than I can express.
Cliff and Stephanie are not the only ones who pray for me, think of me, send me short notes and emails. Every single one of those messages reminds me of how blessed I am and they give me the energy to continue the path to health.
This army of friends and family cheering for me serves as a means of holding me accountable, of not letting me give up even when I feel like I am too scared or too exhausted to take the next step.

And that is truly invaluable.

I cannot wait to dive into this book. 

 THANK YOU, Stephanie and Cliff!

Here is a link to the interview:

http://gspn.tv/146-family-from-the-heart-candace-cameron-bure-interview/

Visiting the Clinic for Psychotherapy

On Monday evening, I visited the psychological station of the Universitätsklinik.

It is a nice place. Everything is clean, but it doesn't feel like a clinic. Everything is kept in warm colors and I think I could feel quite comfortable there. 

There were 10 girls and 1 guy between the ages of 16 to 30. They were really nice and open and we had a pleasant conversation.

However, there is a huge factor that makes me doubt that this is the right place for me to get healthy.

All of the patients critically underweight. Now, I AM skinny, but definitel not in that dimension.

I have never felt so ashamed then when I walked into this room full of girls who are so much skinner than I am saying that I am here to be treated for anorexia. I felt FAT, and, without a shadow of a doubt, when you look at them and then at me, I look big.

Talking to these girls, listening to their stories, looking at them, I felt like a pretender.  

How can I 

I do not know if this is the right environment for me. I wish there was at least one girl like me; a girl with a combination of eating disorders and not strictly anorexia, a girl whose BMI is not 15 but 17 or 18.

I am scared that my mind will do the opposite and that I will stop eating entirely because all I see are girls who weigh at least 10-15 kg less than me.

Am I  being too critical? I don`t know. I just felt really ashamed.
I still have no upadte on WHEN I could start therapy (and this is starting to annoy me; nobody seems to know how long the waiting list is.)

The location of the clinic is, of course, perfect, but my feelings are biased. 

I am waiting for my doctor to call me with more information. Maybe I will feel better once I know a bit more. 

In the meantime I will look at other clinics and see what they have to offer. 

Am I about to lose my identity?

So, I had the 2nd conversation with my doctor on Thursday and it turned out the way that I had guessed it. She told me that the results of my peripheral quantitative computed tomography were not good at all. I have osteoporosis. And while I already knew the diagnosis, I didn`t know how severe it really was. It still has not sunk in that I damaged my body in such a way. She told me to change my lifestyle immediately, otherwise this would not end in a good way. And time is running out.

I was introduced to the program of the clinic here in Zürich (alternatively, I could go to a clinic a bit outside of the city; we`ll see), the expectations, the rules, the types of therapies they offer etc. She could not tell me how long the waiting list is, but usually it takes about 1 to 4 weeks until one gets a spot. 

Consequently, I will stop out of university for a while and concentrate on getting healthy. I just wish I had fixed dates yet. Right now, I feel like I am on tenterhooks.
The more she said, the sicker I felt. Don`t get me wrong: I want to do this, I have to do this. But it will be hard.

I am scared that I won`t make it. I am scared of all the changes, of letting go, of not being in constant control anymore. I am terrified of gaining weight.

Being skinny is how I defined myself for most of my life. So, who will I be when I am not the skinny, sick girl anymore? Will I be anyone at all? What will I do? How will people react to me, look at me? Who will they think that I am?
Who will I think I am? What will I think of myself? I am worried about not being able to handle the change.

I don`t want to disappoint everybody who has always waited for me to be healthy and is having enormous expectations right now. What if I can`t fulfill them?

I am worried about not being ENOUGH!

Learning from a friend

I just listened to last week`s episode of Balanced Living Weekly (http://gspn.tv/057-balanced-living-weekly-cruising-chickens-parsnips-and-much-more/). Cliff Ravenscraft shares in this podcast episode some memories of his recent cruise, his weight gain and how he enjoyed every minute of it, not once feeling guilty about eating too much.

This reminded me of how I took our bathroom scale with me on vacation when I was about 10 or 11 years old. Now, who does that at this age? Isn't that just crazy? I remember what a nightmare this vaccation was for the whole family. I wasn't just ruining our trip to the South of France for myself, I was making it almost impossible for my parents or my sister to have an enjoyable, relaxing time.
I was so concerned about my weight that a regular meal was impossible and dining out was a nightmare. I remember the fights I fought with myself, the yearning for a cup of ice-cream when everybody else was enjoying one, the wish to just eat what everbody else was eating. But I couldn`t. I just could not lose control.

So, even at the age of about 10, this issue did not leave my mind for a single minute.

I am so very glad that Cliff did what he deserves to do: he took a break from his everyday life and just took it easy. After all, this is what vacation is for. This is the whole reason for going away. And once you come back home, you are refreshed and fully energized, ready to have a bit more control and discipline about every asepct of your life again.

Who cares about a few more pounds if you spent a wonderful time with your family or friends? (In fact, writing this makes me feel so stupid because it IS so very trivial..) People and realtionships are what counts in life, not your weight. I regret how many valuable hours, days and weeks I have lost because of the preoccupation with food and I pray that I will be able to make up for all of it once I am healthy.

I hope that very soon I will be able to adopt Cliff`s mindset, because he figured out what really matters in life.  

P.S. I have been a gspn.tv Plus Member since 2008 (or was 2007?) and I have enjoyed every minute of their fantastic podcasts. If you haven`t done so yet (which I doubt), you should check them out:

http://www.gspn.tv/

Today is the day

that Germany's Next Topmodel returns!!!!

just kidding... :-)

Third time is a charm

Okay, let us try this post again...

Last Thursday was my first therapy session at the Universitätsklinik Zürich and it didn’t go as I expected.

It took me such a long time to write this post because I had to come to terms and deal with everything that the doctor said.

I had the feeling that the doctor was very competent and I felt quite comfortable. She asked me what felt like thousands of questions and at the end she suggested a treatment as an inpatient because of the period of time that I have been sick. Just by seeing me this once, she could tell that I was in a very poor state of health and she told me that, if I didn’t get healthy soon, the consequences would be grave.
There was not enough time for talking about the details and/or possible alternatives and the unfortunate thing is that she is not here this week, so my next appointment is still a week away. This might not seem long to you, but for me, it feels like an eternity in hell.

I was extremely disappointed after this session because it was clear to me that I would have to start all over again, searching for a therapist, waiting for an appointment, delaying the much needed treatment again.
I have been in a state of limbo ever since. Going to a clinic is my worst nightmare. I just started university, how could I possibly put my life on hold AGAIN? If I decided to take some time to go to this clinic, I would not earn my bachelor’s degree until I was at least 28 years old; an embarrassing and impossible thought.

However, my doctor is right.

During my therapy session, I had to step on the scale despite my vehement protest. The doctor wanted to see how critical my state really is. Since I was my weight, this number is going through my head like a live ticker 24/7. Tick tack tick tack tick tack Sick.
Today is the third day of the new semester and I am sad to admit that I have started the same behavioral pattern as last semester. The anxiety is back, the fear of having to make a decision about my calorie intake, the pressure to go workout despite feeling ill and weak and the inability to concentrate on the lecture. It is all back.

Furthermore, I collapsed yesterday afternoon for the third time in the last few months. First, it happened at the Apple Store, then once on campus and yesterday at home. I am lucky that nothing serious happened. However, three times is ENOUGH.

I am at the end of my tether, my body is exhausted and my mind cannot take it anymore. What is even more important is the fact that my family cannot deal with it anymore either. They are helpless and cannot bear to see me like this anymore and they just can’t and won’t listen to my craziness one more day.

As unbearable the thought is that my sister, who is 3 years younger, will graduate long before I will, I will have to accept it. In the physical and mental state that I am in right now, I would never be able to make it through this semester.
I cannot wait any longer.
So, praying that they have a spot for me soon, I will almost certainly have myself admitted to a clinic.

OMG! Crystal Renn expresses exactly what I feel.

I cannot stop crying because she is putting everything I have everfelt and thought into words.

MENTAL TORTURE! It really IS nothing but MENTAL TORTURE. 24/7.

Do I have HOPE too?

Shame

I am sitting on a train to German (once again) and I am sobbing.
My jeans is as tight as never before and I cannot describe the physical pain I feel from that realization.
At the same time, my husband is getting thinner and thinner every single day and this is putting an IMMEASURABLE pressure on myself.
It is crazy and I cannot wait for Thursday to finally have an appointment with a psychologist.
I am so ashamed. The shame I feel is overwhelming. The shame of having gained weight. The shame of gaining weight while my husband is losing weight.
What will people think? How will they judge me? What will they think when they see me the next time?
I am so ashamed. 
Thursday cannot come soon enough.

Gummibären

... and THEN (maybe 15 minutes after I wrote this http://intercontinentallife.blogspot.com/2011/02/trapped_08.html), I experienced the following:

Andreas & Gabrielle

Gabrielle (the cute baby girl of on of Joseph's sisters) had been scared of Andreas from the very first moment she saw him. She screamed as loud as she possibly could every time he came near her (I am not sure if she had ever seen a white man before).

But when Andreas gave her a few Gummibears we had brought with us for the kids, she was at first skeptical, looked at her mom and did not rely know what to do. After a few moments she took one and ate it and from that moment on, Andreas and Gabrielle were practically inseparable for the next two weeks.

Food, healthy or not, unites people. It can break barriers, its language is universal. When I think back over the last 2 weeks, I notice that we had the most wonderful conversations during breakfast, lunch or dinner. I just wish my mind would not have wandered back to this dark, dark place all the time.

I will never forget this moment; the moment when Gabrielle started to trust and like Andreas -
just because of a handful of Gummibears...

As time went on my mind started to relax a bit. The thoughts were still omnipresent, but the voices weren't as loud as they were and are in Europe.

The reason for this is quite certainly the fact that I was not surrounded by this evil, harmful and sick media world that is almost unavoidable in the western world. Women care about the way they look like in Cameroon too, but the pressure is not even slightly as extreme as it is here.

The other reason is that my mind had just too many other impressions to process to dictate and direct my thoughts into the "anorexia" direction.

P.S. I was told a few times that women whose husbands do not have a "big belly" are viewed as bad wives.