We celebrated our 1st anniversary in the same restaurant we had dinner last year. It was fun to remember how things had changed in those 12 months. Being back at this restaurant reminded me of how fresh everything was at the beginning, how different our dynamic was, how Andreas used to prepare breakfast for me before he went to work, how he showered me with presents (like my beloved green iPod shuffle which I lost in the last few days. *sad face*) and how excited we both were to have found each other. Thank God that we haven't forgotten the unfathomable luck we have.
Anyways, I digress...
We had the most delicious food ever and both ate truffles (which gave us the idea of what to cook on Sunday) and were both able to enjoy eating in the middle of the day, something that is a HUGE deal for us, as we have never really been able to do just that.
After lunch we went on a boat trip on Lake Zürich. It was awesome. We sat in the sun (both getting a bit sunburnt) for 1,5 hours just being in love, not thinking of anything, leaving the clinic, work, all the issues of everyday life behind us.
It was a wonderful day. A day that will give me the strength to take the next big steps on my way to health.
If you want to know what we did on Sunday, check this site again later today.
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.
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.
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!
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!
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!
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.
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?
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.
Today is the first day of the new semester and it feels weird to be back in my university.
I have been lethargic all day yesterday, crying all night and was in a really bad mood this morning. I am a routine kind of girl. I like routine, I thrive on routine and it is always hard for me to adapt to change; however little it is.
I stayed in my pyjamas all day yesterday thinking about everything that happened in the last 2 months. It feels like an eternity. All the changes inside and outside, the travelling, celebrating Christmas, New Year`s, fighting with my body and mind, the creative wave I have been riding on, spending all this wonderful time with my husband, having soooo many ups and downs in my personal development; how can all of that fit into such a short amount of time?
And yet at the same time, I wanted to do so much more. I had planned on working and experimenting with Photoshop, Dreamweaver, InDesign etc., wanted to create a new wordpress website or even design my own website, clean my computer and organize my pictures. Oh well, I am human and can`t do it all.
Even though this semester just began, it migh be a short one for me. More about that in a later post.
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.
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.
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.
Since I am in a hurry and kind of uninspired (seriously, who stole all the inspiration I had last week), I will post a few wishes that I wrote up earlier this year in light of admitting to being "not OK".
My Wishes for Myself
I want to get healthy for the first time in my life. I want to be able to accept myself for who I am. I want to reach and stay at a healthy weight. I want to get rid off my eating attacks. I want to come to terms with who I am. I want to be able to enjoy food. I want to be able to NOT THINK about what I am eating all day long. I just want to be normal for one single day in my life.
Physical and mental health is what I am striving for.
I hope to write a few more blog posts before leaving for Africa in 2 days (canNOT wait!!!), but I cannot promise anything.
A few weeks ago, I FINALLY admitted to myself and to the people around me that I have an eating disorder and that I have had it for about 15 years or so.
It is a shameful thing to admit.
There are different causes of anorexia. I never thought that I looked too fat or wanted to be a model or anything in that direction. I have just always been terribly scared of not being accepted for who I am. My weight is what defines me. It is who I am. I am thinking about what food and exercise 24/7 and have been doing that for more than a decade. I worry about it every second of the day.
Like I said, my goal has never been to be skinny because I thought that it looked nice. Being skinny is just the result of trying to prove my body wrong, of trying to be as strict with myself as I possibly can, of trying to show my family that I was good at one thing: staying in shape.
But I am exhausted. It has gone too far. I can`t live like that anymore. I can honestly tell you that I cannot remember EVER enjoying a single meal WITHOUT thinking of the consequences, without thinking about a way to get rid of it. It is a prison and I just now realized that this isn`t normal, that it cannot be the way to live life.
I need help. I need it fast. I know that now.
It is time to start the battle against my eating disorder.
