by Lydia Davies
At her last review on 6 February 2012 Lydia made clear her wish to continue to try to improve her nutritional health as an outpatient and she has turned down the day care place that was offered to her. In my view she remains very disordered in her eating and her insistence on continuing with a vegan and gluten-free diet despite the obvious physical risks to her health does concern me and the team greatly.
Yours sincerely,
Dr ***** **
Consultant Psychiatrist
25 February 2012
Email from a friend
Hi Lydia,
Just a little message to say that I hope you are enjoying your time at home and finding the strength to get better. I know it’ll be hard at times but I know you’re strong enough and determined to get through it.
Lots of love xxx
27 February 2012
My blog post
Desperately trying to remember what I like and what I don’t like, what I want, what I’ve done, what I need, what I thought, what I think, who I am.
The restrictions on what I can and cannot do are not helpful. A detachment from a normal way of life is like a detachment from reality. It confuses the mind, which is dangerous; the management of this is the most difficult thing.
Sitting, thinking, watching, thinking, reading, thinking, watching, thinking, sitting, thinking, walking, thinking, watching, thinking, sleeping, thinking.
Before – during – after THINKING. Thinking to the point where I don’t know what I am thinking about any more. And then thinking about that.
27 February 2012
To the Eating Disorder Service, NHS
Dear Dr *******,
Thank you for your letter of 9 February indicating your opinion on Lydia’s condition and the plan of action for her.
I am aware of the severity of Lydia’s anorexia and her low BMI score and it is for this reason I have from the onset strongly suggested to her to adhere to any treatment plan that you have prescribed for her. However, it seems to me that the prioritisation of weight restoration on a voluntary basis over psychological therapy is proving to be rather difficult at the present moment. I believe that Lydia has insight into her condition and her cognitive ability is intact despite her maladaptive core belief, ‘I don’t want to be fat.’ In my view it is this belief that is interfering with the recommended treatment plan. This is also compounded by her low self-esteem, anxiety, frustration and low moods, which I am helping her to address through various cognitive and behavioural interventions.
Over the past six weeks she has shown some degree of slow but steady progress, which has resulted in some cognitive change and some weight gain. When she was weighed at your clinic in the second week of January 2012 she recorded a weight of 34kg and this has gone up to 40kg last week, according to her. Given this progress she told me that she is very unhappy to discontinue the sessions with me and I agree that it would only exasperate her feelings of anxiety and depressive symptoms. Her nutritional habits are still far from adequate and her vegan and gluten-free diet is also a concern to me but she is adamant to continue with it.
I entirely agree and support your treatment plan for Lydia and will continue to encourage her to adhere to it. In line with the multi-disciplinary approach to Lydia’s managed care you have outlined I am happy to attend any reviews concerning Lydia’s care if I get adequate notice and if it doesn’t coincide with my clinics on Wednesdays and Fridays. Please contact me if you have any queries, preferably by email if you require a speedy response.
With regards,
Yours sincerely,
*** *****
Cognitive Behavioural Psychotherapist
16 March 2012
My blog post
This time last year I was preeeeetty happy. Things were neater. I was (slightly more) normal. I was caned constantly. I lived with some of the sickest people, I was about to go to Cuba, life was all in all NICE. My room was top, I was constantly rolling jays and watching all the seasons of Weeds. Uni was all right, pastimes were enjoyable, Starbucks was nice. So was Wagamama.
It is strange seeing how things can change so much within a year. The past few weeks have been a complete hell mentally. Every day feels the length of a year. Every time I’m doing something I’m thinking of the next thing. Life has been so uninspiring it’s ridiculous. Isolation and recovery are fucking shit. It’s all so opposite, it doesn’t seem real. I’d like so much to be able to enjoy the things I used to enjoy, and see things the way I used to see them. My theory was ‘we are atoms’, as in we are just atoms, just a kabillionth of a pinprick in this universe, as in nothing really matters, everyone has problems. But think how massive the universe is in comparison to you and your issues. Trying to use this little theory to realise that there is life outside this fucked-up mental state. I know there is more.
16 March 2012
From the Eating Disorder Service, NHS
Dear Lydia,
I am pleased to now be able to offer you a psychology appointment with me. This appointment has been scheduled for:
Monday 23 April 2012 at 9.30 a.m.
This appointment will take place at the Eating Disorder Unit. The appointment will last for approximately one hour.
Yours sincerely,
Dr ******* *****
Chartered Clinical Psychologist
7 April 2012
My blog post
Completemindblock – picture = the epitome of how I feel.
Fairly over trying to seek out anything I find remotely inspiring to write about. It’s not happening. Everything is so dull and so boring. Things I enjoyed before, bore me completely now. Trying to focus on small tasks that mean nothing just emphasises that horrible purposeless feeling. Trying to be positive only seems to make me more negative. Attempting something fun only becomes a massive chore. Every single thing I do I spend 90% of the time questioning why I am doing it. And coming to the exact same conclusion. I have no idea.
It was by this point that my affair with bulimia was getting more serious. What started out as just a little fun, gaining weight before my appointments to up my BMI, then fasting the rest of the week before repeating, soon turned into episodes of full-blown, uncontrollable eating and purging. I found more and more frequently that once I began to eat, I literally couldn’t stop. This was particularly prominent in the evenings, and after the consumption of alcohol. For someone who has been so strict with their self, and in control of every bite they put in their mouth, to going the opposite way entirely and not being able to stop it is an extremely frightening transfer to occur. I was assured by the EDS that the binging was purely a way of my body desperately attempting to get the nutrients it needed so badly, as I had deprived it for so long. It was like every time I ate, my body subconsciously thought this could be the last time in a long time it would be allowed food, so it went all out. I was promised and assured that this would stop once I was of a higher weight/BMI (lies). Before I could realise it, I would have consumed an insane amount of calories. Sometimes I would eat so much in one go that I genuinely could not remember what I had eaten. It was as if I was attempting to fill a bottomless pit, no matter how much I had, it was never ever enough. I could not fill myself up, there was always room for more. After an episode like this I would feel horrifically guilty and disgusted in myself. The next few hours would be spent downing pints of water and puking up my guts in a desperate attempt to rid myself of all the calories before they were absorbed. It was a race against time. I was painfully lonely. My days were spent in the house alone. My mother and father would go to work. I would watch my daytime TV, drink wine for lunch sometimes instead of food, if I was really bored. Which in turn would cause me to binge on roasted vegetables and things, before legging it to the toilet to try to purge as much as I could before my mother returned. I was talking to myself, depressed, and sat in my room in darkness, alone. There was no point in anything to me. I didn’t even know why I was getting up in the morning. All I was going to do was watch
TV and eat too much, and for what?! It was an extremely dark stage of my life and I have never felt more isolated or alone as I did then. I was also finding it very difficult to cope with the weight gain that the binging episodes were causing me. I was no longer doing it intentionally; I was an out of control mess, and a million miles away from my routine and controlled lifestyle that had been so accurately perfected.
12 April 2012
A letter from my sister
You need to GET HELP.
It has now got to the point where I am scared to walk into any room in the house. I’m scared to walk into the kitchen in case you start to scream abuse and throw things at me. I’m scared to walk into the bathroom as most of the time I am faced with vomit. And I am scared to go into your room as I’m worried one day I will find you dead. I don’t know if last night was your way of punishing Mum, Dad and me but I cannot understand why you would do something like that at all.
I cannot live in a house which is constantly full of worry as to what state we will find you in next.
We have all been told that the only thing we can do to help is to love you. You make this extremely hard. We help and support you as much as we can, yet we still find notes telling us we are cunts and you fucking hate us. How am I supposed to love someone who can say those things?
That time when you went at me in the kitchen will always haunt me, as will last night. When you were screaming at me I have never been so terrified in my life. I know Mum has had this before too.
You blame all of this on us but you’re the only one that has the ability to change anything and make it better, yet you still refuse to get any help. None of us want to live like this and it is so frustrating as you are the only one with the power, yet something TRULY EVIL inside you is refusing.
All any of us want is for you to get better and be able to live a normal life and to be TRULY HAPPY, as you never will be if you can’t accept that you can’t do this alone, and it can’t carry on!
I also wish you would stop talking about killing yourself. I have seen one of my closest friends go through losing his brother and I can’t even imagine how awful it was and still is, not only for him, but his parents and also everyone he knew.
You have so much to live for but you need to reject the evil to fulfil yourself.
14 April 2012
My blog post
Parisparisparis
I had a very neat trip and am ever so grateful to my dad for taking me to Paris. I cannot wait to go back and enjoy the experience even more when all destructive and poisonous thoughts are eliminated. It will be too neat.
What I found most inspiring was: my dad’s ability to be so patient with me and my irrational thinking. The quality time we were able to spend together in such an amazing city. The architecture, it’s amazing. The lifestyle. How laid-back it is. How French it is. How fashionable it is. I just have to live there in a studio apartment with a pug called Almond.
15 April 2012
A letter from me to my parents
Dear Mum and Dad,
Yep, I’ve binged. So you can rejoice in secret that I’m not ‘starving myself’. You have ruined my plan and my life, to be honest. I can picture you sitting and laughing at my uncontrollable binges together. Well done, you’ve ruined it for me.
I’ve lost uni, boyfriend, friends, everything in the past year. And now I’ve lost my figure too. I’m fat. Fat like you wanted. Well, it’s disgusting. When I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror (every two seconds at work) I wish I was in a balaclava and bin bag and no one could see my ugly self. I’m so disgusting I can’t be me. I can’t look at me. I just want to burst into tears all the time.
From tomorrow I am RAW. Don’t bother putting negative spins on it and telling me I am ‘ill’ and will feel ‘weak’.
No, I’m not ill, I’m just an extremely fat, greedy pig who has been tricked into believing greed is an illness. It’s a fat girl. Lydia. Me. I will only be happy when I’m thinner otherwise I will take my life. I only want to lose half a stone. Stop taking all my fun with your lectures.
Stop putting that I ‘starve myself’ into my head.
Stop encouraging me.
Stop tempting me.
Leave me be.
Fat Lydia xo
For several months this is what my life consisted of. I was in a living hell, which I could not escape. No matter how hard I tried, I was well and truly stuck, and could not find an escape. I pencilled into my diary every time one of my friends was home from university, and I would be able to enjoy life briefly. I could not look in the mirror, showering was difficult as seeing my naked growing body disgusted me so much, I was constantly crying, deep in depression, trapped in my chaotic world.
16 April 2012
A letter from my dad
My darling Lydia,
I love you so much too and it makes me very sad to see you suffering so much. I wish I was better at helping you and I also wish I could get you the help you so obviously need; sometimes we can’t do it all by ourselves and we need to find the right person/people to show us the way.
I do not want to lose you to this horrible sickness and I will do everything I can to help you break its grip so you can enjoy all that life has to offer again. You have family and friends, all of whom hope and pray we can get you back to the funny, lovely girl you were not so long ago, and still can be, I am sure.
Please do not give up, however hard things may seem. Your daddy and mummy need you. I have often told you the most painful and worst thing that could happen to me is to lose you to this illness.
I will do my best to keep strong for you and my family.
All my love,
Dad xo xo
17 April 2012
My blog post
Miss
I miss too many things
I miss all my friends
I miss being independent
I miss looking after other people
I miss set routines
I miss making my own decisions and choices
I miss being on a course
I miss having reasons to do things
I miss logical thinking
I miss last year
I miss old life
Nights like these are always skank. 3.33 a.m., wake up. Try to go back to sleep. Frantic thoughts. Mind racing. Regrets. Compromises. Anxiety. The xx’s ‘Heart Skipped a Beat’. Hot water bottle. Binge. Read. More thoughts. What I wish I hadn’t done. What I will do tomorrow morning. In each hour.
Too many things have been compromised. Too much time has been wasted. Too many people get hurt. I’d like to press pause at the same time as pressing fast-forward at the same time as pressing rewind. I’m claustrophobic.
If anybody actually reads these you must think I am genuinely mad. I’m not (well, I am, ha ha) but not a complete schiz (yet). XXO
The xx, Bon Iver, David Gray have disappointed me at this early hour and failed to work their magic. Back to trusty Coldplay it is.
20 April 2012
A letter from my sister
Lydia,
I wanted to write you this letter as I find it hard to express how I feel in any other way. I know you think you are okay and that we are all being ridiculous, but as far as I’m concerned, and anyone else is, you are far from it. I know it’s hard for you to see something is wrong.
I even remember lying to myself and pretending everything was okay and normal, but this all really hit me that time when I came to visit you in Newcastle. You were getting changed and I just felt this huge lump in my throat as I had convinced myself everything was fine but it was one of the worst moments ever. When I got on the train after saying goodbye I instantly started to cry but tried to force myself to hold it in. Then I got in the car when Dad picked me up from the station and burst into tears. The harsh realisation of it all was overwhelming.
I know that it is so hard for you to see me upset, so I try to stay strong for you but sometimes I find it so hard to deal with. I a
lso know that you can have the drive and goals so prominently one day but then non-existent the next.
Anorexia has completely changed you, which is not your fault. I have lost the Lydia that I loved spending time with, fighting over clothes with. I am adamant that you must get better so we can do the things sisters should do. I want to be able to go clubbing with you in London, go to Thorpe Park, go skiing, ice-skating – anything!
It’s so difficult for you as you are constantly battling the voices in your head. Although you have reassured me not to be scared or worried, that is naturally impossible for me as your sister. There are so many possibilities of things that could be triggered by this disease and they are constantly on my mind. By writing this letter I am not trying to blame you for any of this or make you feel guilty … that is, in fact, the last thing I want to do.
I just want you to understand better how I am feeling as I find it difficult to express a lot of the time.
I love you so, so much that you don’t understand and I just don’t want to lose any more of my sister than I already have. I hope this can inspire you to an extent and help you realise that I believe you are strong enough to get through this. I have always thought you are beautiful but ‘ana’ has only made you change – and not for the better. I want my older sister back – to achieve this you have got to eat to function properly and to do all the things we miss doing together.
All my love,
Your baby sister,
Paskey xoxoxo
4 May 2012
My blog post
I find reality a mystery, a very difficult concept. The more days that pass, the less real life seems. I have even found myself questioning whether life is actually a dream and dreams are actually life. Some days I am convinced I am going to just wake up and all this time will have been a very long and detailed dream. I say detailed, however I genuinely cannot remember much since August. August–present is somewhat of a blur. Yes, I can remember elements of it but no detail, no feeling, nothing relevant. Each day I think might seem shorter ends up seeming never fucking ending! Tasks get set and goals get broken far too frequently. Each hour becomes too long. Focus is impossible. Concentration is non-existent. I haven’t a clue what is going on and I fail to remember anything that happened in the past hour, let alone the past day/month/year. I’m not sure what is more ridiculous, myself, life or this blog post. Because NONE of them make any sense.