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.

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. 

Weight graph

As you can see, I have experienced quite some setbacks in the last few days, losing 6 pounds within 3 days, then gaining gaining a bit back and losing a lot again. 


Some if it had to do with my cold and the fever, but mostly I just was not able to eat the portions I was supposed to eat. 


However, the good thing is that I have been able to maintain the regularity of eating . eating 3 bigger meals a day and 3 (or more) snacks. I am so proud of myself for keeping this up for more than 6 weeks now, as I have never ever ever ever eaten so regularly in my entire life!!!


I still have major problems with eating warm meals at night, so we made a compromise allowing me to keep my routine of eating a cold meal, mostly consisting of bread or a Pretzel with butter, cheese, honey and sometimes soup (which is the only warm thing I can eat at night without feeling so guilty that I can hardly stand it). I have grown up with this routine of eating what Americans would call "dinner" at lunchtime because of my parents' work schedule (my mom not working too far from home and my dad actually working in our house and both having their lunch breaks when we got home from school). 
This is one factor of why I have such a hard time of eating a "big meal" at night. 
The other one is that for five or more years, I did not allow myself to eat after 2pm, and when I had afternoon classes, I had the rule of only eating breakfast. 
We are working hard on this. Breakfast is no huge problem anymore, despite the fact that for many years I did not eat breakfast, and lunch is okay too. 


All in all, I am doing better than a few days ago, but I still had to stay at the sanatorium and was not allowed to go home for the weekend because I am too fragile. 


My hubby will be hear to have breakfast with me and then we are going to spend a few hours in the sun and think about naming my podcast etc., as I am sooooooo behind already on the A to Z class. 


I hope you all have a fantastic weekend! 

Alone at the Sanatorium

With all that has been going on, I did not even have the time to tell you what has been going on with my health.
The situation with Amy affected me in such a way that I lost 6 pounds from Thursday to Friday and I am now at a critical weight again. 
As an anorexic, the first thing you do when you cannot deal with a situation or when something bad happens, you stop eating. 
Now, I tried my best and asked for all the help I could get possibly get; I forced myself to eat as much as possible, but - objectively seen - it was not much, not much at all. 
Of course, I was devastated on Friday morning, called my father sobbing, talked to my therapists crying my tears out, because I am working so hard and this is the result I get.
I was so mad at myself, so horribly, horribly disappointment and ashamed of myself. Why can't I just be "normal"? 


I had planned on spending the weekend at home, had been looking forward to finally have some time with my husband again, but the doctors and the team advised me strongly to stay here. 
So,  I spent my very first weekend here in Kilchberg & I was only one of 3 patients on my station. Last night, I was even alone and I have to admit, I quite enjoyed it. I needed the calm, the "ME time" and the comfort of the silence. I loved having my room for myself. 


However, I spend all day yesterday with my husband. He came over at around 9am and we had breakfast together here at the clinic. It was wonderful and felt so good to have him visit the ward and be part of it for a while. My spirit was definitely uplifted. 
He brought me those beautiful flowers. Aren't they just gorgeous? The color is amazing, isn't it? 

He was there for me all day long, running errands and helping me to distract my thoughts. And the best part is that he will be here again in just a few minutes. :) 

Little Mook

My fantastic and thoughtful godmother/aunt sent me a pair of trousers she bought in Granada as a way of supporting me. 

Every time I wear them, I feel like Little Mook. All I need is the shoes and the turban... 

I love them, they look fantastic and they are the most comfortable pants ever.
Plus, they feel great on my skin and they are quite stretchable, so as I gain more weight, they will "grow" with me... 

Thank you so much, Annette! 

Positive news!

As I had mentioned, yesterday was the day that decided whether I could stay at the clinic for 4 more weeks or not. 
It had been very close, but I reached my weight goal (I gained a lot over the Easter weekend!) and am relieved to say that I can continue my treatment.

Thank you all so very much for your prayers! 

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!

Everything is about to change

on Wednesday at 10am.

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!

Today is the day

that Germany's Next Topmodel returns!!!!

just kidding... :-)

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.

Trapped.

I had totally forgotten about this blog post I wrote on the 1st evening in Yaoundé.

I wrote it after watching "The Black Swan" while we were relaxing for a couple of hours and will just post it now - more than 3 weeks after I wrote it... But it doesn't matter since the feelings and the anxiety is still omnipresent.

Here it is:

I feel trapped; trapped in this body that just keeps getting bigger and bigger, despite all my efforts.

Trapped with this mindset that makes me think I am constantly, second by second, gaining weight.

Trapped with this brain that does not ever allow me to enjoy anything, anything at all.

Trapped in a situation that seems impossible. No matter which way I will choose, I will not be able to enjoy anything.

If I choose to gain weight, I will feel ugly; will not be able to look at myself anymore, will despise myself, will not enjoy a moment of this vacation.

If I choose to not eat, I will not enjoy a single time at a restaurant or café; although, I know I won't enjoy it either if I decide to do what everybody else does. My mind ever stops worrying, never stops being guilty, never stops making me feel despicable. Not one single moment. It never relaxes.

My husband came in while I was eating a bag of candy feeling horrible with every single piece I ate and despising myself for eating it but not being able to stop. He entered the room and told me that I was standing there entranced enjoying what I ate. Oh no, I was not enjoying a single bite, not at all. It was the complete and entire opposite. But I could not stop.

I should be excited about this unimaginable adventure that we are embarking on, but ALL I can think about is my body and my weight.

I hate it. I am trapped and I can't get OOOOOOUT.

P.S. Since I wrote this blog post, I have gained 4.5 kilos, which was necessary for my health and (which my gynecologist told me in round terms last week) for survival. However, the time frame was too short for my mind to be able to cope with it.

2 months...

It has been almost 2 months since my scream for help, since I have realized that I was on a very, very dangerous path.

Upfront I have to say that I FEEL FAT. I KNOW I am NOT FAT, but I feel fat every single second of the day. I don’t want to eat, but I do. I force myself to eat as regularly as possible and I am constantly gaining weight. Step by step. I will not give up.

I cannot look at myself in the mirror anymore. If I do, I feel like crying. I hate that I am this way, I hate that my brain does this to me; especially since I am not a person who cares about appearances.

Every part of my body hurts. I know that it is all in my head, but it still feels very, very real.

I have not worked out in a long, long time and it is ok. I don’t miss it right now. I stopped cold-turkey, so to speak. I hope that the joy that I once felt and the excitement about working out and exercising will come back eventually.

I have been trying to get psychological help for 2 months now, but it is almost impossible to get help. Isn’t this just RIDICULOUS? You’d think that somebody who is literally screaming for help would find professionals who are willing to do so, but it feels almost impossible. I now have an appointment at the Universitätsklinik Zürich on February 17^th, but I am not sure that it will take place since appointments have been canceled, rescheduled and postponed by the doctors for several reasons already…

It seems like the only people one can count on is family and friends. My family, especially my husband, has been awesome in encouraging me, listening to me complain and wail about the way I feel and look, holding me and drying my tears over and over again.

I have also gotten a lot of help from my friends [you know who you are, thank you so much] providing me with fantastic information about all kinds of different methods used to heal anorexia, research on the subject of eating disorders, personal experience and advice.

I couldn’t do it without you; not one single day.

I will not give up, I just wish that I could wake up just once and feel OK, not, well, fat…