July 4th - the day's stories...!

Hello all. Oh my lord what an apology I need to make, although I am not really at fault…

…I always write to you in the morning. Only about four people are reading this but its become routine. I know that I am updating you all and keeping an accurate record when I write to you all of my progress at whatever ungodly hour I rise in the morning.

And this morning I religiously did just as I always do. Waking at five I dozed in and out for about an hour before going to the toilet just before six. I then went returned and began writing, understandably waffling a little in anxiety around the impending weigh-in and the fact that I’d seen the nurses and not asked them to do anything. I cannot even remember what I was writing but I was duly recording me feelings, my apprehension and thoughts. Then, at roughly 6.30am I was weighed. And I duly continued to describe all of my reactions, my sensations, the course of events and the thoughts that arose within me after knowing the ‘golden number’ which has such a bearing on the future within my trajectory and this journey. I think I had been writing about how difficult it is that one number dictates so much – the way people see me, relate to me, receive me, approach me, talk to me, accept me and handle me in response to my behaviour. It completely rules the way people perceive and think about me – configuring their thought patterns and mental processes whilst in my presence. In so doing it is fundamental because it also takes me to my next destinations given that currently decisions about my life are largely out of my hands and in those of psychiatrists, doctors and dieticians.

And then, after logging all of my thoughts and feelings I went online. Then…no idea. I have no clue what happened but I discovered in a conversation with Alex this afternoon that it transpires I never posted the blog onto the website. I never left the messages there, never posted it…and then closed the file I had written it in…gone…can’t find it – I’ve looked all afternoon…and um…its gone…!!!

BUT ANYWAY…the weight…the key figure that the entire blog and my life at the moment seems to be framed around:

32.30 kilos.

That’s 400 grams put on since Tuesday. That’s the weight gain factor of 0.8kilos that was St George’s ‘Holy Grail’ at 2000 calories. It’s the weight gain factor that is absolutely the best that they could have expected of me – the maximum and the ultimate. The absolute tip-top wonderful best-ness that could be demanded. And I fucking did it. The blog contained lots – about how I cried and hugged the male nurse who had weighed me and who went on to say (once I had explained that I had taken my diet into my own hands) that it was ‘all down to your hard work, then’.

Yes, it bloody was…

…but I never posted it! And today has contained much happiness – the physios were so proud of me and I went on to do a fantastically taxing and energetic gym session where I learnt that the stairs are a genuine achievement and a goal I have fulfilled now – there is no going back on being able to walk up them without arms I don’t think. Standing up from sitting without hands is also solidly progressing – to the extent that from a certain height I can manage it easily and, depending on the chair, I am actually able to do it quite effectively. This is tiredness dependent, however. I also paced at a fantastic speed combined with a 4.5% incline on the treadmill. I did squats, arm exercises, bridge postures and leg stretches. I also went on the trampette – something which is incredibly destabilising in that it forces me onto my toes and places my weight onto the less secure muscle groups. It’s the trampette stuff which puts me onto the muscles where I am likely to fall, and yet even they felt stronger. I also demonstrated how well I can balance by going on some wobble boards for the first time and practicing tensing every muscle to retain the equilibrium…and Nicky and Sandy were so encouraging about my weight gain.

But this was all after seeing both Dr Gordon and Natasha – independently. Both of them were forced to admit that I had done well but the words almost choked in their throats. They were almost unable to congratulate me, and certainly struggled to gain any sense of genuine-ness. There was the distinct sense that they had suspected I wouldn’t do it and were more than shocked that I had – and alone. I have provoked them by isolating myself and invalidating their positions in my healthcare. Whilst Dr Gordon can dictate my future still – and is adamant about the involvement of St George’s, Natasha has decreased her contact to once a week and is simply saying that there’s not a lot for her to do if I’m doing it myself – which I am. Having made her almost redundant there is a difficulty for her to congratulate me which in itself demonstrates how false the ‘we only want you to get better, regardless of how it happens’ assertions of them all. Dr Gordon cannot seem to see that St George’s is not the path of health but the path of patronisingly unnecessary ‘treatment’. Perhaps she perceives an eating disorder specialist as the authority, unable to make an assessment initially she already confessed that Dr Zadeh was there to make a further assessment. Perhaps she is doing the same thing once again, now that I have confused and thrown her entirely with my apparent ease and comfort with the ongoing eating process. Not only did I eat but I ate enough…it floored her.
She did, grudgingly, complement me. However, in commenting that there was little support or recognition from those in charge of my care she was swiftly upon the psychiatric analysis bandwagon – assuming both that I did not congratulate myself enough and also that I required recognition or support in a pathetic needy way. Yet there is an amazingly bizarre thing where whatever I say will have a psychological interpretation which casts me unfavourably. A comment about the behaviour of her colleagues is taken as a reflection of my pathetic neediness. An honest, open and sincere comment is taken and viewed through the twisted perspective of an attempt to find something wrong. In her adamant need to have me ‘disordered’ and manifesting more than a physical problem (because that is the only way that my current physical health could possibly be explained in her eyes) she is desperate to find anything that might mean something in every phrase I utter. The conclusion I have arrived at is that I must practice mute-ness before St George’s, silence is the only way to guarantee I cannot impeach myself or implicate myself in some way. I suppose silence would be interpreted as sullenness, however, I doubt I will leave them with the right impression whatever I do or say.

Because ultimately that is it. An impression is a combination of two factors: the vision given and the way it is received. I can give the most beautiful, sincere and profound level of truthfulness…but the reception will be what it will be – and that is the responsibility and prerogative of those on the receiving end. I have given up attempts at controlling the impression I leave. Now I just live and see the true nature of the person I am with in the reflection of how they themselves receive and interpret me.

And the only angel I know is my Mum. She wheeled me all the way into Worthing today – we bought shoes, sprayed perfume at Debenhams, pottered round the streets – even into Marks (though it was sorely disappointing). We sat in the park, we chatted, we pottered. She was wonderful in traipsing everywhere with me – particularly after a morning spent traipsing around after my dietary needs in many and varying supermarkets, shops and locations. She is truly wonderful and provides my life (interminably monotonous and hard inside these four walls) with the much-needed light that I love.

And calculating BMI’s etc. it looks like I will be in here for a further 6-8 weeks, hoping that weight gain remains strong. And that is a long time – a third again of what I have already done. It does not depress me because so much can happen in that time. And actually I have just seen the beauty of my weight gain of today – yeah guys I gained weight!!! – I have nearly two months to plan what to do with the rest of my life, both in the immediate and the long-term future. And that is an exciting prospect.

And most importantly, I became convinced within the weighing that I am doing it. I think I have gained much more confidence this time – 100grams is a tiny bit, 400 is something worth noting. And I did that – in response. Whilst thinking I wasn’t doing it I was hungry and desirous of the right things in the right degree to get me up 400 grams. And that means that my body’s doing it for me – we’re doing it together. And it will be the best thing in the world if I relax a little now and accept that regardless of how paranoid I try to be and how tense I can feel mentally about whether I am achieving anything or not…I am doing it. Doing what I want and have wanted for all of my life – demonstrating my beauty and my health in my life and in every action and every breath that I take. That is truly delightful to know I am capable of doing. And more than capability – I AM actually behaving in a healthy way – the goal of 2003, at the very start of all of this…I am healthy and health is both flowing in and emerging out of me. Always…