My Story...
The following story may be triggering for some individuals. I would urge those struggling in any way to speak to someone and seek help. You are never alone - below are some links and contacts to very useful pages, people and charities! There is always someone to listen and care.
I must have started, stopped and rewritten this section a hundred times over. Being vulnerable, particularly with people on the Internet can be a daunting experience; however, I feel it is a necessary step to give a voice to mental health and begin removing stigmas around mental health and personal struggles. Throughout my life, I have had significant struggles with anxiety and anorexia which I wish to share in order to shine a light on mental wellbeing. I hope that by hearing my struggles, people in the same position can realise they are not alone and will be able to see the importance of reaching out and seeking professional support. I hope you will join me on this journey to build a community of support and happiness that pushes away misleading diet culture and encourages strong mental health through a love for ourselves and food. To anyone reading this please know that you are welcome here and there is always a reason to smile and be thankful.
I was born in Johannesburg, South Africa, where I lived for nine years with my mom, dad, sister and grandparents before moving to Scotland – a place I now call home! To add a little more confusion to the tale, my entire family is actually Portuguese and the majority live all across Portugal. This has allowed me to grow up in many different places, surrounded by diverse cultures and traditions; which, has fuelled my passion for cooking, humanities and travel. Thinking back on childhood memories and my time in high school and university I do have great memories – I had a wonderful family, amazing friends and a safe home. Nevertheless, part of me also remembers times and thoughts of fear, shame and anxiety intertwined with these wonderful moments.
From a young age, I always had a feeling of being ‘fat’. I can remember a day, in my primary school classroom, a girl pointed to a picture of me as a toddler on our class poster saying I looked chubby. How strange that at such a young age that comment caused me to feel incredibly defensive and self-conscious and that memory has remained with me all these years. Recently, I found some New Year’s resolutions that my family and I made when I was only 12 years-old. On this I had written as my top resolution: ‘lose weight and not be so fat’. Not in any universe did I need to lose weight at age 12. Yet, somehow this idea of 'fat' as 'bad' and 'thin' as 'good' was already entrenched into my mind. Another stark memory of these thoughts comes during a lesson in school where I watched a documentary about an 8-year-old girl, Dana, who was being treated for anorexia. When I recall my thoughts during this class I recall them with shock and sadness. Rather than witnessing Dana’s suffering, I was envious of her control and ability to maintain an ‘amazing’ figure. Dana’s poor mental and physical health and the suffering of her family glossed over me, encouraging a dangerous, internal path. By the age of 14 I was exposed to so many ideals and opinions about my own and other’s bodies. ‘Thinspiration’ posts would be spread around social media and skinny, photo-shopped women were sprawled across magazines and posters. I would hear girls at school say things such as: ‘I can only drink juice today because I need to lose weight’, ‘only girls with a completely flat stomach can wear tight clothing’. I watched at school camps how the boys rated girl’s bodies in swimming activities. Now, when I reflect back on these moments I can understand how vulgar and illogical these ideals and scenarios were. Yet, at the time these completely framed the way I saw myself and the ‘ideal girl’ that I thought I needed to become in order to gain appraisal and attention. Thus, began years of restrictive eating, over-exercising, control and obsession.
I always participated in activities within and outside of school, I played basketball, performed in plays, choir, played piano and was a school council representative. I enjoyed all of these activities and met wonderful friends I still cherish today. However, these activities also fuelled a part of me that felt under pressure to control my social life, projects, plans and achieve even more. In my final year of school, the pressures from my social life, work and the accumulating thoughts about myself and my body began to unravel. The stress and uncertainty of leaving school, the sickness of a family member, the need to control and the yearning to be an ‘ideal body’ lead me into a dark place. I became entirely obsessed with what I ate, how much I ate, my exercise and the ‘perfect bodies’ of girls around me. When I walked to school I would compare myself to everyone around me and feel anxious and overwhelmed as I thought to myself ‘they are prettier, they are thinner, they are better’. I would wake up, weigh myself and then stare for an immensely long time at my reflection of my stomach, thighs and waist to make sure I had not gained weight overnight. I would do 200 sit-ups first thing in the morning and last thing before going to bed, I would secretly workout late into the night making sure to be quiet so no one would hear me. I was fixated on counting calories and feared eating more than 1000 per day. During this time, I also developed a form of social anxiety, particularly around eating in public. I would try as much as possible to eat alone and remember having a panic attack when I once had to consumer a sandwich at the bus stop. When I had to go out to see friends or simply to school, I would feel this run of anxious energy and panic. For most mornings of my sixth form, I would arrive in school early and wait in the music rooms, which were empty at that time, to simply mentally prepare for the socialising. It was almost as if I was preparing some sort of socially acceptable mask to wear for the day. This social fear and fear of eating in public drove me to lie to people in order to avoid situations where I would have to eat things I had not calculated, or cooked for myself. Writing this now, I think back in shame of the lies and effort I went to purely to avoid food and intense social occasional. Yet, at the time, I believed what I was doing was justified; the only thing I cared about was control and becoming the thin girl I thought I needed to be. I lost a fair amount of weight but those few who reached out and commented I pushed away. I became an expert in the art of wearing two faces. The face the majority of people at school and around me saw – the bubbly girl who loved school and school events. And the face that I only knew of – the liar who hated her reflection. I pushed people away for trying to help due to one simple reason: I thought no-one would care or believe me. I knew I was showing behaviours of anorexia but physically, I was not tiny or skinny. Therefore, who would even consider my lies and ‘dieting’ to be a problem? What was my desire to lose weight and fear of food compared to problems I saw around me?
This refusal to speak out and accept help suddenly crumbled around me one morning on the way to school when I broke down into what remains the worst panic attack of my life. I felt weak and helpless, unable to face my peers, the anxiety and the pressure. My father in shock drove me back home where I sat with my parents and everything poured out. That week was probably the first time I went to school with what felt like a slight pressure somewhat lifted off my chest. However, I still refused to seek further help believing if I could only reach my ideal figure or weight everything would be perfect. Yet, this goal figure and weight seemed to always be just behind that one extra day of fasting or that one extra run.
Starting university, in a new environment I discovered that people cared far less about appearance than I had perhaps been perceiving in school. However, ideas of my being ‘fat’ and ‘unattractive’ still remained and I continued to calorie count and vigorously exercise. By second year, I was at my worst. I found a new sense of pressure in my academics and ideas of people ‘judging’ me for how I looked and what I ate returned in full force. I would avoid being at home because I could not face my parents and their worry. My calorie goals now remained fixed at under 800, I engaged in laxative and diet pill taking and I would get terrible stomach pains and moments of dizziness. I started to feel sick and cold all the time, tiny hairs grew around my body (a symptom of anorexia I was unaware of). My stomach pains worsened, I struggled to focus on my studies and I would force myself to the gym everyday no matter how tired or sore I felt. I struggled to sleep from awful nightmares where I would envision myself being extremely overweight, ridiculed and losing my friends and family. I would then wake up thinking about weight and food. I sat in classes calculating what I had eaten, what I had burnt off. Finally, when it was time for bed the nightmares came back and the cycle would resume. I went through weeks of restrictive eating and then once every few weeks had a day of extreme binging where I would feel as though I entirely lost control over everything. I consumed everything I could, everything I had deprived myself of, secretly, within short spaces of time. This made me feel so incredibly ill and disgusted in myself and lead me to then resume my punishing and restrictive behaviours. My life had turned into a vicious circle and I didn’t know how to break out. In two months, I had lost over 10kg. Thankfully, at the time, my family, flatmate and a close friend from school saw my unhappiness and they looked past my excuses, urging me to finally seek help and support.
Thinking back to that day I finally gained the courage to go to the doctor I still feel like crying. I was sat, with my mother, in front of our family doctor who smiled at me asking me why I had come in today. When I looked up I could not bring myself to speak properly. In a rambled string of tears I quickly sputtered out “I want to lose weight, I can’t eat, I haven’t had my period in 2 years and I’m tired and can’t breathe properly”. My doctor immediately knew what the situation was. She supplied me with a variety of advice, pressing me to visit student services. My first appointment with student services was another outpour of tears but, by the second session my wonderful therapist had set me on a new programme and we started discussing what I wanted to become and the improvements I wished to see in myself. After the first week, I already felt more positive and relived for the future than I had in a long time. At last, the very fear I had envisioned of being overlooked or mocked was cast aside and someone was listening and helping. I went through a full year and a half of intense counselling and hospital appointments to ensure my weight, heart rate and mental wellbeing remained healthy. It has now been six years since my first anorexic episode. will admit that I still go through periods of self-doubt and weight insecurity where I feel incredibly anxious. Large social gatherings, big life changes or emotionally charged events tend to trigger these negative thoughts and I recently had to go back and review my therapy programme again. However, I am able to recognise my progress and admit when unhealthy thoughts and behaviours are resuming. This allows me to go back to counselling, or implement different coping methods. Moreover, despite having low moments, I can stay away from calorie restricting and over exercising and I am able to reach out to loved ones for support. I found a love for cycling, yoga and weightlifting and focused on using them to take care of my mental and physical wellbeing rather than for weight loss or punishment.I feel proud to confess my past and confident to say I am finally on the road to recovery.
I cannot begin to express my gratitude to my doctor and therapist for their guidance and understanding. Likewise, I also acknowledge the friends who knew of my journey. Though some of us have parted ways, I will always be thankful to them for their support, cute notes and empowering talks. Even those friends who did not know about my recovery were an equally important part of my healing journey. They would provide a different type of emotional support for me when I needed a time out and a break from those who knew about my mental health. Yet, the most significant figures and my biggest motivators during my recovery were my family. They followed me through my journey, made sacrifices and all the while, never failing in their unconditional love. I had always feared asking for help because I thought no one would believe me and part of me didn’t think that the way I was living was unhealthy or concerning. I was immensely sceptical when I decided to speak to my friends, parents and doctors. Fortunately, they were all supportive and guided me through my recovery, particularly my parents. There is no fast cure for mental health. It takes time and requires an acceptance to rewire thoughts and behaviours that you may have carried with you for years. My best, starting advice is simply to speak to someone and voice your concerns if you are feeling low about yourself or your body. Human beings are intuitive, if you feel something is wrong and you are finding your physical and mental health to be affected I urge you to seek advice and help. It may be the case in your own journeys that you find some people dismissive or unsupportive of your cries for help. These individuals are not a reflection of your concerns and should not dissuade you from seeking help from others in your life. In addition, there are many other places, resources and communities that you can seek help from (linked below). Never give up on yourself.
We live in a society of increasing free speech and individuality; yet, the topic of mental illness is still whispered in hushed tones. There remains a stigma of keeping what goes on inside your mind to yourself, even when it is causing you grief and misery. We live in a society where social media platforms and advertising feed us ideals of bodies and lifestyles. And it is this same society which ignores the negative effects of pushing these standards onto people. Now more than ever, it is essential we create platforms to spread correct information and awareness about health and mental wellbeing. It is vital to remove negative stigmas surrounding mental illnesses and reassure individuals that it is perfectly safe to admit defeat and speak out about problems and experiences. Just as we would take care of our physical health by going to a doctor when we are sick, we must do the same with our mental wellbeing. In doing so, we may move forward and create a better society; a society which understands mental health and places value on emotional wellbeing.
I have come a long way since that girl who used to hide food and fear wearing particular clothes. My personal relationship with food and cooking has not always been one of passion and joy. Yet, I have now rediscovered this passion and wish to share it with others! My blog is themed as a walking journey to emphasise that just like during a walk or road trip, there will always be hills, rocks and bumps in the road. All you need is the right mind-set, some good company and a snazzy pair of shoes (in my case my trusty Nikes!) and you can go as far as you desire! This blog is both a platform of awareness and a way to continue my journey back to my love for food and cooking. I therefore welcome you all and encourage you to share in this journey with me! Admitting a problem is never easy and the path to recovery can seem impossible. Nevertheless, together, StepByStep, we can all walk a path to self-love.
Useful Links
National Eating Disorder Charity – provides information and local contacts in your area. Gives general information and advice for those suffering and those caring for individuals with eating disorders.
https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/
Mental Health Foundation – giving sources of published work and guidance to anyone seeking help for mental wellbeing.
https://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/
The NHS – advice on steps to take if you are worried about yours or someone else’s mental wellbeing. Also gives links to further contacts in your local areas.
Center for Mental Health - working towards achieving an understanding of mental health and challenging inequalities that those with mental illnesses may face. Also provides a ‘crisis contact’ forum where individuals can access a helpline for care and advice. https://www.centreformentalhealth.org.uk/
https://www.centreformentalhealth.org.uk/crisis-contacts
Samaritans – A helpline available to anyone in need. Lines are open 24/7 all year round. https://www.samaritans.org/?nation=scotland
Phone: 116 123
Remember: in an emergency call 999. If you require help but are in no immediate danger call NHS 111. And if you need further guidance, contact your local GP who can provide you with further assistance and resources.