to the sea.

I’ve been a bit epic fail on the internet fronts recently. In fact, I’ve been fail on the social front entirely for the past few days. It started with A Comedy of Errors,  appointments with dieticians, a big dinner out with the Mum as an active recovery mission (Giraffe – I even had chips! And a sneaky cocktail!), followed by food shopping, the boy with lots of Wonders of the Universe, a desperate attempt to catch up with uni work that I’d been putting off to do these activities (successful!), lots of mini errands, dreadful family therapy and a hell of a lot of very speedy packing because today, I am going to the sea!

I love the sea. So much. Especially in winter. There’s something very affirming about the ocean. I don’t know what it is but I always feel more grounded when I can see the sea. I constantly get these overwhelming urges to have a tiny house by the sea where I live alone and have nothing to do but potter around and go on walks, but that’d probably get depressing really quickly. I also get overwhelming urges to run away and disappear from everyone and everything and start over again in the hope of being left alone to create my own world, but that’s a tad dramatic and would probably worry people. So I’m doing the next best thing. Famo friends in a tiny, middle class seaside town are taking me in for a lovely long weekend with no stresses and no pressures and I’m excited.

I’m pretty anxious food wise. They took me in at the very beginning of my treatment and whilst I was with them, I tried to eat as normally as possible for the first time in a long while. During my eating disorder, I never had problems with one-off treat eating – to me, I had the rest of my life to lose any weight gained from a birthday dinner or holiday foods – it’s only in recovery that doing these things has become so hard as I can’t compensate for it. So last time I visited them, I ate basically normal food, experimenting with full-fat milk and scones and hummus. Only to go home and restrict like crazy and end up a lower weight than I’d ever been in in adult life. Not good. I’m worried though as they might think I’ve gone backwards or not understand my eating now. They’re completely aware of my illness as their son lived with us for about 6 months in the real depths of this all, so they’ll be really accommodating of my needs, I’m just worried they think I’m more rigid and disordered now, when really I’ve made a lot of progress. I need to eat regularly else I get really moody (I don’t get hunger pangs, I just get really angry at the world when I don’t eat enough), I need to eat relatively balanced meals else I freak out, dessert is not an option, but a necessity, I need to eat quite a lot of food and have to be sure I’m eating enough to keep disordered thoughts from taking over and I really like yogurt. So many things. I’m completely out of tune with my bodies needs so rely on eating relatively set foods so I know that I’m eating enough. I hope it’s not too annoying. I also hope I’m honest with them about this all. A part of me is thinking “Yes! Away from prying eyes! They don’t know what I’m supposed to be eating so I can just restrict. No more crumpets at breakfast, no more desserts, no more snacks!” but that’s not what I want this trip to be about. I want to be ok away from home and I want to enjoy myself without the guilt of knowing that I’m giving in to anorexia. Fingers crossed.

So I’ve packed cereal bars and date, banana and oat smoothie and soy milk and cereal and porridge and hot chocolate and peanut butter and I’m hoping that the rest will sort out itself. As long as I have my minimum and then some, I should be ok. The lack of calorie counting means that I should have enough flexibility to eat a cake or a dinner and maybe even fish and chips! A girl can dream after all. I’m not too worried about dinners, mostly lunches and breakfasts as if it’s not foods I’m comfortable with, I may end up restricting. Oh and I’m taking crisps. Can’t forget to keep challenging my fear foods after all. If in doubt, pack snacks. And a healthy dose of play doh and colouring books obviously.

I’m leaving my beautiful city behind though. That always makes me a little sad. I very much view London as a comforting friend. I feel safe here. Leaving it always makes me a bit anxious.

So sorry for being a bit of a rubbish blogger, and I might continue to be a rubbish blogger for the next week or so. And real life people, I’ll hopefully see some of you soon. I’ve been retreating again and I know it. Hopefully this will push me to challenge my social comfort rules a little and I’ll be more about.