At the ripe old age of 41, let me tell you a story. Some parts are good, some sad, some hilarious and some tragic. However, I tell you in the hope that you hear, truly hear, the message. If you are struggling, REACH OUT – the sooner the better. It will only HELP you in your life, never harm you and get you to your ‘happily ever after’ sooner rather than later. Trust me. Been there, done that and it bloody sucked.
My story is just that: My Story. I own it 100%; faults and all. I was a classic early developer. Big boobs genetically blessed both sides of our family so I was destined to inherit them and I did – with a vengeance! From the moment they arrived, I loathed them. I had to grow up almost ( what felt like ) overnight as I immediately got a lot of unwanted male attention and bewilderingly, female resentment from peers. At such a young age, I didn’t know how to make head nor tail of these awkward/awful situations so I turned the loathing up a notch on the cause of the attention – my body. My battle with eating disorders had begun.
My teenage years were a blur of bulimia, anxiety and depression, names I can put on them now yet couldn’t fathom at the time. After four years of torturing my body with binging/purging in the most horrific ways imaginable, I finally ‘came clean’ to my Dad one random Sunday ( I remember the conversation so clearly and how I confidently declared ‘I’m over it’ – so naively brave ) and dusted myself off, believing once I’d ‘confronted’ bulimia, it wouldn’t get me again. I had named & shamed it & for a while, that worked for me.
I live my life by the motto “ I do not regret the things I have done, only those I did not do”. This is one of my regrets. I wish I had allowed myself to ask for help, for therapy, at that moment. At that young, brave age of 15, I wish I had turned to ask, hell, PLEAD, for help, to overcome those disordered eating patterns that would follow me like a shadow for decades. It’s only now, at 41, that I’m ‘letting’ myself sit with these uncomfortable/painful memories and I won’t lie , it’s damn hard. Even writing that, the fear of the confrontation has been so much more than the actual reality. It hasn’t been pretty, it hasn’t been overnight either however it’s been really, really good.
I ploughed on. I made a wonderful life for myself. I had & have an amazing and supportive circle of family and friends around me who cheer me on in every walk of life I have chosen. I found a job I loved, went out with a terrible boy in my early twenties whom they all hated and learned a lot of painful, necessary life lessons, as your twenties tend to do. I travelled the world, I enjoyed life and I thought I had it sussed. Ah, the twenties!
Enter handsome prince. My happily ever after. And he is and so much more. We had our first child. I became anorexic. I went to counselling. This therapist declared me ‘cured’ after 5 sessions. Lesson here: pick your therapists wisely. We had our second child and the anorexia came back to bite me in the (tiny) ass, along with anxiety and depression. This time medication and therapy with a few different people & the difference is like night and day.
I am still a work in progress. I know that I always will be and I’m ok with that. I’m a fallible person just like the next human. Meditation has been a huge eye opener for me. I’m a Mom of two; I barely have time to catch a breath, yet somehow I AM managing 5 – 15 minutes of this a day with apps / podcasts / A Lust for Life and it has made such an important change for me personally & for my family. I’m doing things for myself , even in the smallest of ways and it’s rewarding all around. Yet be under no illusion, this time I do this for ME. Writing and really naming my feelings, anxious or no, utterly uncensored, is a gift to myself and one I wish I had given to myself in my teens/twenties. Just to know that it’s ok to feel like ‘shit’. Write it out. Then do something nice for yourself (not shopping – just try a bath etc; whatever floats YOUR boat!. Personally, I’m a napper/hibernating bear according to my husband! ). Self care for me is napping: that’s such a treat! I’ve always loved snoozing! And NOW I won’t apologise for it. These are my personal preferences. If its better for you, pour it out to a friend, then laugh/cry it out together. Again, it’s what feels right for you.
To quote a favourite author of mine Caroline Foran, who writes so well about her own journey with anxiety “ This does not make you ‘self centred’ or ‘self obsessed’ as we Irish have been so conditioned to believe. This does NOT mean that you are negative. Yes, you are having an anxious moment. However, WHO you are is up to you.”
It has taken me DECADES to realise that all of my feelings are ok, no matter what and to stop fighting how I feel every day. I no longer feel the need to ‘power through’ every challenging moment in my life. If I need to cry, I cry. I let it out. I give myself the grace of allowing myself to feel. This is new for me. This is something I can teach my daughters and be proud of. As I now watch my eldest daughter begin her journey into puberty, I hope that her path will be easier, that she will be kinder and more gentle to her changing body. I hope to help her with these changes, not through fear, but with pride of her incredible body and all it is and will achieve.
I wish you hope too. From an ‘oul wan’ to a ‘ young wan’, if you can relate to any of these horrible eating disorder issues, fear of food, fear of fat, eating, not eating/starving or in my case regular passing out or that that God-awful weighing scales drama, I URGE you to reach out and talk. For you, to you, as a gift. So you don’t have to suffer for decades like I did. There IS a way to live with it. To be well, to eat EVERY DAY ( I know !) and to find your ‘happily ever after’.
Remember, we’re ALL figuring life out one day at a time here. So to you I say ‘Give it a shot – why the fuck not??’. Nine times out of ten, when I adopt that attitude, it’s worked out really well and the ‘left overs’ makes for one hell of a funny story to roll about laughing with friends later! I type this saying words I honestly NEVER in my life thought I’d say; I don’t know exactly what I weigh today and it’s a HUGE relief. The weighing scales gathers dust in my husbands bathroom and that’s where that mofo can stay.
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