Recently, I had to make a tough decision which resulted in a big change in my life.
While this decision was within my control and the right one for me, it didn’t make the process any easier. I also had other changes going on in the background.
I found in the lead up to making it and after I had made it, old coping strategies returning. It would be a lie to say these coping strategies had completely disappeared and then just reappeared.
I have struggled for much of my life with an eating disorder, spiralling thoughts and self-harm. While I’ve been doing good for some time, it was still a very conscious, daily decision to eat, not self-harm, and try to halt my thoughts from manifesting into something.
These were all conscious choices and I was making what would be deemed as the right ones eight times out of 10.
When I recently enacted that big, hard change in my life, I noticed issues arising again associated with my eating disorder.
I’ve written previously about my eating disorder and how, for me, it wasn’t entirely what people traditionally associate with the condition. The stereotype of seeing oneself as overweight and trying to lose weight fast by undereating is not the case for me (similarly for many people struggling with anorexia).
My eating disorder was always about control and trying to manage my whirlwind of emotions. When my world felt like utter chaos, the one thing I could have power over was eating.
Strangely, while the condition left me feeling utterly depleted and mentally exhausted, I also felt powerful. In a world of emotional distress and unpredictability, I had some dominance over myself. That is not to say that this is all it was, I do struggle to an extent with body issues, but it’s not so black and white as ‘I’m fat’. It is more of a matter of not feeling comfortable in my own skin and having little confidence.
For example, it could be something as simple as whether I look womanly enough, but also if I even want that.
[ ‘For a long time, I truly thought I was the problem and hated myself’Opens in new window ]
How my eating disorder manifests in my mind makes it feel as though there are two Bronaghs living up there. There is a Bronagh who wants to be healthy, happy, and get everything she wants out of life, and a Bronagh that likes to test the waters, see how far things can go, and has a different idea of what would be an optimal look.
In the lead up to this tough decision I was set to make, the latter Bronagh dominated.
I was about to do something that was going to drastically change my life and another person’s. Their feelings were also involved, and I cared deeply about them.
For much of life, I’ve been a people pleaser, never putting myself first but focusing my energy on making others happy. I also have always had low self-esteem and confidence. What’s more, the little self-esteem I did have was always external.
This choice was going against my innate nature to please and put myself first. It was nice to finally reach a point in life where I was ready to do that. However, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t scary and uncomfortable; even the most secure person fears change.
I found myself back in the eating disorder mindset, and I won’t deny it; it’s still something I am struggling to come back out of as I pen this column. With going so extremely against my nature (even if it was for the better), I still felt intense guilt.
It returned easily. Our emotions and food are so interlinked and, as a teenager, this was how I used to control chaos in life and my feelings.
I thought when I made the decision that I would go back to being predominantly the healthy Bronagh, but it wasn’t the case. I was overthinking and spiralling about things I did not know and many things I could not control.
As mentioned, I had other big changes happening that I had not taken the lead on. The old thinking, habits, and tricks poured back in from my teenage years and consumed me as I tried to get through this difficult period.
Things got so bad that I fainted at a bus stop (something that has not happened since I struggled badly with my eating disorder). Someone helped me up, but what scared me was my response. The way I had brushed off what had happened to this stranger struck a chord in me to get help immediately.
They said, “Oh my god, are you okay? What happened?” and I just responded, “I’m grand, I just get dizzy sometimes”. Still seeing the stars and feeling woozy, I thanked them and proceeded to to hop on the bus and go to work.
This would be my exact reaction when I was deep in the eating disorder. In that moment, I felt utterly disheartened that I was still using the same coping strategies from my teenage years now in my late twenties.
I was gutted that after years of work on myself , it was that easy to fall off track again. Similarly, I was disappointed that I was getting the same kick out of it that I did then, even with the progress I have made on my mental health journey.
Although whether eating or not was a daily conscious decision , I remember speaking with people about my eating disorder on many occasions and swearing I’d never go back there. I truly believed myself.
When I was deep in anorexia, it was the darkest time of my life which affected so many areas. Socially, I felt I could not get involved in much and make friends because interactions seemed to revolve around food. There were physical impacts too, such as on my fertility and teeth. Becoming food and body obsessed also warped my self-image and self-esteem. I spent some time beating myself up on how it still has such a strong hold on me.
I suppose it comes back to the perception of mental health, too, that recovery is linear; once you get over the initial stage, maybe you have a relapse, but then you’re on track for good. Clearly, that’s not the case, and this should serve as a testament to that. I always knew it about this misconception, I tend to place a high amount of pressure on myself, being somewhat of a perfectionist. To clarify , this doesn’t mean I’m perfect at everything, but rather that I’m not allowed to make mistakes.
Mental health recovery looks different for everyone. It is a journey with ups and downs. You don’t go from struggling to being entirely mentally well. There may be times when you are doing really well (like I was), but then life happens, and you hit a bump in the road.
It is entirely normal for external factors to impact someone’s mental wellbeing and potentially cause fluctuations in their recovery process. A big part of recovery is learning to manage symptoms and develop new coping mechanisms.
[ Mental illness is not just emotionalOpens in new window ]
My eating disorder, as mentioned, was a major coping mechanism for several years. When I found myself slipping, I had to remember to cut myself some slack.It’s hard enough having issues like these resurface and admitting that you need help.
The process of relearning and adopting new, healthier coping mechanisms is not always smooth sailing. From my earlier experience, I always knew all of this, but with this recent experience, it has only affirmed it more.
Whether you’re someone who is struggling or supporting someone who is struggling, we need to stop thinking of mental health recovery in a similar vein to physical illness. It doesn’t follow the same formula; sometimes it is struggling to reach well, then good, and back to struggling – it looks different for everyone.
When someone is showing up well, they are still often making a conscious decision in the back of their mind to be this way. Just because they aren’t actively engaging in what they used to or there are no signs of struggle doesn’t mean there’s no fight any more; mental health recovery will always feel like a game of survival.
Useful contacts
- Bodywhys (The Eating Disorders Association of Ireland) – bodywhys.ie – (01) 210 7906 – alex@bodywhys.ie
