I Stand with You, Not for You

I have done a lot of thinking over the last few days about body positivity and what that means. Something I have been desperate to find is how I, a thin white able-bodied cisgendered female, can support the movement without detracting from the voices of marginalised bodies.

Body positivity has started to lose its meaning because privileged bodies have adopted it to be synonymous with self-love. The two are not the same, and to pretend that they are is disregarding the roots of the body positive movement. Body positivity is an inherently political movement that strives for the inclusion of all bodies in all arenas of life. Body positivity developed from the fat acceptance movement in the sixties where activists strived to combat the discrimination fat people faced. Body positivity, by definition, cannot be depoliticised and any attempt to market body positivity as the same thing as ‘self-love’ is misguided.

I understand that the difference between self-love and body positivity might seem insignificant on a small scale, but on a global scale vocabulary matters. No matter how poor your self esteem is, if you are a thin person you exist in a very different world than a fat person. Thin people, for the most part, are not aware of the privilege they hold as they have never lived without it. However, fat people are denied healthcare, job opportunities and are often forced to spend more money on clothes simply because they are fat. You cannot de-politicise body positivity because it comes as part of the package. You cannot address body positivity without acknowledging the inequalities fat people face, because to do so is a failure to acknowledge the purpose of the movement.

As a privileged person who truly believes in body positivity, it can be hard to figure out where I stand within the community. It is not unlike men saying ‘what about me? why can’t I be heard?’ in the discourse of feminism. I can stand alongside marginalised bodies but I cannot stand for them. To do so would be a failure to acknowledge the privilege I hold. Just as I would find a straight person talking about the experience of what it is like to be gay offensive, a cisgendered able-bodied white girl cannot speak on behalf of those with marginalised bodies. I cannot truly understand what it is to live in a fat body, just as a straight person cannot truly grasp what it means to exist as a gay person. There are some struggles that are too complex and too intricate to fully comprehend without having experienced them yourself. It is not that you cannot stand alongside body positivity, it is that you need to know where to stand. Allies are important, they are a part of every movement but they cannot be the centre of it.

When exploring body positivity and discovering that it is something I truly believe in, I realised very quickly that the movement was not for me. I knew that I didn’t want to become the ‘man that speaks for the feminists’ but I also wanted to help. I’m still figuring it out, but for now I’m educating myself on the intricacies of body positivities by listening to podcasts, reading books, following bopo accounts on instagram and listening to those at the centre of the movement. I am trying to catch myself when I make snap judgments and I am acknowledging my privilege in this arena. It’s not perfect but it’s a start and that’s okay – everyone has to start somewhere.

Holly’s Holiday Survival Guide

Holiday periods are full of joy, laughter, and celebration. But they can be a minefield for anyone with a mental illness, in my small experience navigating this time of year with anorexia, depression, and anxiety proves to be challenging and it seems as though the world is throwing curveballs at every opportunity. So I’ve put together a bit of a survival guide for those struggling over the holiday period.

‘You’re looking so good’
Pesky relatives sometimes say the most ignorant things and then start to dig themselves a hole, and they just keep digging. Regardless of the context of this comment be it after weight restoration, or after weight loss, it is damaging. For those who have been in weight restoration, good so often translates to fat; for those who have lost weight, it gives them added incentive to lose more weight. In the first instance, I try to remember that they are coming from a good place. This is where I try and use my wise mind and acknowledge that my emotional mind is telling me that they are calling me fat, but then use my rational mind to remember that they are commenting on my overall appearance – it could be the colour in my cheeks, it could be that my eyes are not glazed over, or it could be simply I’m smiling more. The fact is we don’t know what they were commenting on and by guessing it is about our weight we are only projecting our insecurities on to them.

For the situation where you have lost weight and relatives praise your recent weight loss, how you respond can depend on where in your eating disorder you are. If you are aware of your relapse and struggling it can be infuriating and complimentary all at the same time. If it is someone I am close with I might just say I’d appreciate it if we don’t comment on my weight or appearance. If it is someone I don’t know very well, I try and remember that diet culture has taught us that weight loss should always be a compliment and it isn’t my fault they have bought into the diet industry.

‘I’m so bad for eating this dessert’
Phrases like this are almost part of common courtesy these days. It is almost as if we have to say this in order to show that we know that what we are doing doesn’t fit within society’s definition of ‘healthy food’. However, I can almost guarantee that for those without an eating disorder this is a passing statement. After they have their dessert they simply move on and go about their day. As my dietician told me, normal eaters might say something like this but they don’t believe it like someone with an eating disorder would. People without eating disorders don’t realise all the little lessons diet culture has preached and how it might affect people that have eating disorders.

‘My new year’s resolution is to eat clean and get lean!’
Remember that they are not in recovery from an eating disorder and even if they are struggling with an eating disorder their stuff isn’t your stuff. If you feel up to it, sass them back and tell them that your new year’s resolution is to ‘stop dieting, and cherish my body because it’s freaking amazing as it is’. New year’s diet talk is the worst and there is no escaping it. Just breathe in and out and maybe scream into a pillow. I feel like a broken record but most people say these are their new year’s resolutions but they do so more out of obligation because clean eating and weight loss are what we should be striving for right? WRONG! and the people who don’t realise that are missing out on what life is really about!

Remember that this time of year is tough, but it will pass just like all things do. You have survived every holiday period to date and you will survive one more. Mental illness doesn’t take a holiday so it is okay to not be okay around this time of year. No matter what, you are loved and you are worthy.

Protections, Religious Freedoms, Conscientious Objection….Discrimination?

In lieu of the postal survey returning a yes vote at 61.6% many of the no campaigners are vying for so-called ‘protections’. It is unclear, however, of what these protections actually are. One of their concerns is the right to have an opinion, and the right to freedom of speech – a right that is not affected by marriage equality at all. People will always have a right to hold their own opinions and be able to voice them. That doesn’t mean that anyone has to listen, and it doesn’t absolve them of other people retaliating or disagreeing. The protections that the ‘no’ campaigners seek to achieve seem to be a ‘get out of jail free’ card for being homophobic pricks. The ‘no’ campaign wants to allow businesses without religious affiliations to be able to turn away same-sex couples on moral grounds. Basically, they want to have an exception made for the discrimination act because apparently two strangers getting married threatens their relationships. Imagine having such a fragile relationship that two strangers getting married were enough to rock the boat?

There are a few issues with seeking these ‘protections’ and I have yet to hear of a law that allows people who morally object to the particular law to simply ignore it. If I morally object to university fees will my HECS debt go away? If I morally object to paying taxes am I exempt from them? These seem like reasonable questions so long as we are applying laws differently to different people. At what point do we stop? Why not stop LGBT+ members from seeking medical advice from doctors while we’re at it? Why not allow schools to refuse entry to children with LGBT+ parents?

Furthermore, politicians have never been so caught up in their religion. Suddenly they’re all devout Christians, no doubt that they never wear clothing with mixed fibers, eat bacon, shave their beards nor do they cut their hair. What is it about two people of the same gender getting married that is different to the aforementioned ‘sins’. Australia is currently a secular country, and people are allowed to observe or not observe any religion they choose. Thus, to base laws on religious beliefs that are not enforceable seems laughable. If you want to get married in a church and have the marriage recognised before God, so be it. However, in the civil domain religion should play no part. Conscientious objectors for reasons that are not founded in religion is also known as homophobia or discrimination.

Australia voted overwhelmingly yes and if the yes campaign was a political party it would hold all but 17 seats in parliament. It is time the government take the results seriously and stop worrying about their precious rights to discriminate (which they currently do not have!!!). Imagine the outrage if the same conscientious objections were applied to interracial marriages. How is this different to the amendments proposed by the Australian government? Who will get these so-called protections? is it limited to celebrants or are venues, cake shops, dressmakers or florists entitled to them as well? This is not marriage equality, this is giving us a dollar and taking ten. We should be thankful since we got our dollar right? same sex marriage with these amendments is not marriage equality, it is downright homophobic and a way for people to mask their prejudices under ‘religious freedoms’ and this is not okay.

Now is the time to recognise that the world is changing. There is a wave of activism that is founded upon every individual being worthy of love, respect and equality regardless of their gender, sexuality, skin colour, ethnicity, body type, typically-abled body, differently-abled body, or their social status. People are embracing who they are with solidarity and fighting for their rights. If the pious politicians looked beyond their personal bank accounts, they would see the beauty in the diversity of humanity. Do we want to risk losing the breathtaking future we could have if we cast differences aside and build each other up rather than tearing each other down?

Finding My Way Home

If you had asked me six months ago whether or not I thought complete recovery was possible, I would have said ‘fat chance – there is no such thing’. I believed that the eating disorder could be well managed and life could be relatively normal. I saw it much like diabetes, you could manage it with insulin, but it was always going to be there. Now, I’m still not sure recovery is totally possible, but I’m now open to the idea that this eating disorder does not have to be with me for life, and that there might come a day where recovering, becomes recovered. This is both exciting, and terrifying.

When I think about being recovered, there are many unknowns. The future is uncertain and unpredictable. Recovery is often described as freedom, but freedom is scary. Freedom means possibilities beyond my imagination. Relapse, or recovery stagnation, on the other hand, is safe. They are familiar and predictable. I know what is coming next. There is no uncertainty. I know that I cannot move forward in life so long as I am engaging with Anorexia. I know that my world will shrink to the point that the only currency in my life is calories. My world is small, neat and predictable.

There is a distinct feeling of nostalgia when I reflect on past relapses. The word nostalgia is derived from the Greek ‘nóstos’ meaning ‘homecoming’ and álgos meaning ‘pain’. Nostalgia is typically described as a yearning for the ‘good old days’. However, considering the Greek roots of the word perhaps the nostalgia could be ‘homecoming to pain’. Maybe this is the nostalgia I feel towards relapse – a return to the familiar discomfort. I am yet to establish why I have this yearning to return to a time in which I inflicted so much pain on myself, but among the pain was comfort in knowing that no matter how chaotic and unpredictable my life was, there was a sanctuary.

And yet this yearning to stagnate in the present is no longer all encompassing. There is part of me that wants to grow and blossom into the passionate woman I am without anorexia. Without my eating disorder there is room for the truly empowering and enjoyable things in life. Less time in supermarkets means more time to study, less time ruminating over dinner means more time to read, less time counting calories means more time to count your blessings. The fact is, eating disorders are leeches that suck the joy out of your life. So while relapse seems safe and comfortable, it is anything but comfortable and it is most definitely not safe.

Since really committing to recovery I have learned a lot about who I am and have been able to explore what is ‘Holly’ and what was anorexia. Although anorexia has certainly shaped who I am becoming, it is not who I am. As a child I was headstrong and stubborn. I was passionate for social justice and was not afraid to vocalise my opinions. Throughout my teenage years I was told that I needed to be less ‘intense’, more submissive and conform to what was expected. Girls should be seen and not heard. I became very good at being someone else. I also became very good at pretending not to care too much about anything. I am now starting to recover the fiery, opinionated and passionate young girl that was stifled beneath the layers of conformity. I am learning that being strong-willed is not a weakness or a flaw. But something that I am beginning to accept as part of my identity.

What is more, It is through recovery that I have gained confidence in who I am. I find joy in acting in ways that align with my beliefs. I am not proud of what anorexia has made me do in the past – I have lost friends, upset my family and hurt people I love. One of anorexia’s main beliefs was that life was all or nothing. I lived in black and white – there was no grey. Another belief was that if I wasn’t bettering myself in some way, I was wasting my time. Recovery has taught me balance. While I still value study and achieving in the academic world, I also remember to make time for leisure. Watching Netflix, crocheting or reading a book might not be what anorexia would have called ‘productive’, but it is something that enriches my life in ways that academia cannot.

Anorexia has irreversibly shaped my life. I will never get the years I lost to this illness, but I can be thankful for what it has taught me and what I have gained because of anorexia. Had I never had anorexia I wouldn’t have met two of my closest friends. Had I not had anorexia, I would not have developed the resilience I know I have. Had it not been for anorexia, I would not be who I am today. I ask myself, if I could go back in time and never develop an eating disorder, would I do it? My answer is simply I don’t know, because even though anorexia is hell on earth, I have grown so much because of it. So I look forward instead of backward. I look ahead to the point when recovering becomes recovered.

Fight Like a Girl

Feminism is not something I have always felt strongly about, and that was mainly because I never quite realised the influence that the patriarchy had on my life. However, through education, research and personal growth I have come to realise, that the patriarchy and the benefits that men reap have influenced my life more than I care to admit. Recently, I have found myself drawn to books that could be labelled as ‘Social Justice Warrior’ style memoirs, essays and biographies. I recently picked up ‘Fight Like a Girl’ by Clementine Ford after seeing the book plastered all over book stores, libraries and social media. While I had never heard of Clementine Ford before, apparently she is an avid feminist blogger with quite a following. I had no preconceptions – positive or negative – prior to reading this book and I can’t say that it is the ‘call to arms’ that it has been described as. It claimed that it would leave me empowered and ignite passion to take back ownership of my body and fight for my rights. I was sorely let down.

The first chapter of ‘Fight Like a Girl’ caught my attention straight away. It dealt with girl’s obsession with not being like ‘other girls’ and priding themselves on the ability to be ‘one of the guys’. I was a devout tomboy as a kid and spent more time outside scraping knees, bike-riding and rollerblading than I did painting nails, doing hair or playing with dolls. So when Clementine started discussing the patriarchal roots of the pride I felt from being ‘one of the boys’, I was intrigued. Maybe this book would give me insight and new perspective. However, as the book progressed it was clear that I would not find the intellectually stimulating and eye opening read I thought I had picked up.

 

The book raised important points and many of which I agree with. I am not particularly inspired by the way in which she communicated her discontent with the status quo. As a female, she has every right to be angry. We have been raised in a society where we cannot win. Have too much sex you’re a slut, but have too little and you’re a prude; too fat and you’re a fat pig, too thin and you’re not a real woman; the list goes on and Clementine Ford addresses many of the paradoxes that come with being a woman. Although she does address a plethora of pertinent issues, I felt that Clementine spent more time telling me about the name’s MRAs (Men’s Rights Activists) have called her and coming up with equally creative insults. While I am immensely thankful for her introduction of ‘ an intellectually bereft bag of soggy dickblisters’ into my jar of insults because that is one that I hadn’t heard and of which I am quite fond. Of course, this discourse around MRAs and the extensive pages spent calling them equally amusing insults could be a satirical take on the online harassment that women encounter and it may have been an intentional way of alluding to the sheer ludicrousness of MRAs and their constant need to call us ‘Fugly Sluts’.

 

A stand out chapter in my opinion, was the chapter entitled ‘when will you learn?’ in which she discusses ‘rape culture’ and the ramifications that it has on the lives of females. In this chapter she references several high profile cases that grasped the public’s interest – for example Jill Meagher’s rape and murder and the heinous rape case Brock Turner – and deconstructed how the patriarchy, male privilege and ‘rape culture’ arranged themselves in perfect alignment to allow not only for the crimes to occur, but for the victims to be at fault – if only they had done something different. The Jill Meagher case demonstrates several problems that Clementine astutely alluded to. This case perfectly sums up society’s view that it is women’s responsibility to prevent rape, rather than men’s obligation to not rape. Conversations around Jill Meagher discussed whether or not she was intoxicated, walking down a ‘dodgy’ street, or whether or not she provoked the rapist by brushing his advances off. Regardless of whether or not they are true, rape is rape. The Brock Turner Case was also discussed which highlighted society’s perverted preoccupation with not disrupting a young male athletes future prospects. Never mind the future of the young female victim. Society is so quick to cry ‘innocent until proven guilty’ but even when there is not a shadow of a doubt that the man committed the crime, Brock Turner was caught in the act and detained by an onlooker for christ sake! When will society realise that we have a ‘rape culture’ problem? ‘But gaol will ruin this young rising star’s life!!’ So what do you suggest? a slap on the wrist and let him continue without consequence?  What about the young female victim who is likely to experience sever psychological distress and perhaps even PTSD requiring high level psychiatric care. Care that she is likely to require to fund herself and perhaps even be turned away from due to limited resources. But instead of being concerned with her future, we are concerned about the young male and whether or not facing the consequences of his action will ruin his future prospects. So I ask, when will society learn? When will victim blaming end? The rapist has dug their grave, when will they be forced to lie in it?

 

Furthermore, the book discusses what the expectations of women in order to qualify as ‘real’ women. The trouble is the only qualification to be a women is to identify as one. Period. However, society polices our bodies telling us what is appropriate. The sheer existence of fat people appears to be offensive, let alone a happy fat person who doesn’t want to do anything about it. Clothing brands fail to cater for bigger bodies, doctors first comment to overweight people is ‘have you tried losing weight?’ Regardless of what they came for. The fashion industry sells thinness as much as it sells clothes. Have too many curves and you are shamed under the thinly veiled disguise of health concern; have too few curves and you get told you’re not a real women. Clementine Ford discusses how the patriarchy allowed the pressure women feel to look a certain way to be born. The fact is, the pressure women feel is a direct result on the objectification of women. Women have existed for men’s pleasure and it is time that this changes. We are not simply decoration, nor are we a sex toy. We are complex human beings with hopes, dreams, struggles and flaws.It is completely abhorrent that women in positions of power are criticised not for their competence or lack thereof, but their appearance. Julia Gillard was consistently picked on for her ‘boxy’ frame, while her male colleagues criticised for their political views. If society is going to change we need to stop being so preoccupied with how a women looks and give them equal opportunity in the workforce and education.

 

In my opinion, as a ‘call to arms’ this book falls short. The points raised are excellent, but the book left me with more creative insults than I know what to do with, and did not particularly inspire me to take control of my life nor take down the patriarchy. She was successful at instilling anger, but I am left without anywhere to direct my rage that she has provoked.

I’m Still Healing: my story

A recent photo of me

I did a workshop with Batyr and they taught us how to share our story in a safe and insightful way and this is what I ended up with

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Holly, I am 23 years old and grew up on the sunny shores of the Northern Beaches in Sydney. I study physiotherapy at the university of Melbourne. I am, what most people would call a bookworm, but I prefer the term book dragon; I play quidditch – and before you ask, no we don’t fly. I’m a self-confessed nerd with a passion for learning. I adore cats and I’m of the strong belief that almost any meal can be improved with peanut butter. I went to state championships for gymnastics four times, but my greatest accomplishment to date is managing to get a selfie with Daniel Radcliffe. I am all these things and more, but I am also living with depression, anxiety and anorexia nervosa.

Me at Warner Bros Studio Tour

I often credit 2010 with the start of my mental health journey, but in reality it started when I was much younger. I was always anxious and insecure, desperate to please everyone. I remember being 6 years old in ballet class and looking at the girl next to me and thinking that she was so perfect – she was long, lean and elegant, and I was…well stumpy and frumpy.

Dance class when I was about 5. Can you find me? answer’s at the bottom of the post*

In 2010 I went to France along with 20 other girls from my school on a language immersion course. It was here that I started having difficulties with my eating. The teachers on the trip were alerted to the issue and I was put on supervision during and after meals. I had never felt so ashamed in my life. While the other 20 girls all sat and laughed together, I sat with the teachers crying over cornflakes. When I returned home, there was no follow up. It wasn’t acknowledged by my parents, nor re-addressed by the school. I felt entirely let down, even though part of me denied there was a problem, part of me knew things were not okay. The lack of follow up made me feel invalidated, unworthy of help and as though I was overplaying the whole problem. For the next 5 years I was struggling internally. I felt so worthless and undeserving that I thought I needed to carry around a plant to compensate for the oxygen I stole from the atmosphere. No one really thought to ask if I was okay, I mean I never looked mentally ill. I got high grades graduating high school with academic honour, was an athlete, and participated in two school orchestras and debating. I always wonder what would have happened if I got help earlier, how many years of health would I have gained?

My best friends throughout highschool – Sarah (left) and Anna (right)

In 2015, everything went south. I had started self harming, and was thinking about suicide on a daily basis. I remember spending hours curled up in a ball shaking under my desk while I waited for the storm to pass. As the self harm got progressively worse and more frequent I confided in my best friend Sarah who had experienced mental illness herself. She gave me an ultimatum: I seek help or she would cease her own treatment. Looking back, this was extremely manipulative, but at the time it was the only way to get through to me. I didn’t care about myself, but she was my rock and I would do it for her. So I went to headspace. I was too ashamed to talk to my family. I was terrified of being rejected by them, as I felt that being mentally ill meant I was no longer the perfect daughter. I always felt that my love was conditional and based upon my achievements, and being mentally ill would tarnish all of them. I remember spending 3 hours in my psychologist’s office, head in my hands and shaking as I tried to reassure her that everything was okay, and she didn’t need to involve my parents. I lost this argument, which was probably for the best. So I went to my GP. I was prescribed medication and referred to a private psychologist. Unfortunately, we didn’t click and I found myself deteriorating rapidly. My GP was an amazing support and saw me weekly during my most difficult times. Eventually, she thought it best to send me to a young adult psychiatric ward. I wasn’t sure what to expect but I found the experience valuable and supportive. We jiggled my medications around and found a combination that seemed to fit. My depression and anxiety became more manageable and while the medications helped, I still had to learn strategies and engage with therapy – medication is not a magic fix. I spent the next year doing a group day program through the hospital and seeing the same psychiatrist. While my mood stabilised and my anxiety was slightly more under control, my psychiatrist refused to acknowledge my eating disorder. I took things into my own hands and after speaking with an occupational therapist at day program I sought out a dietician. This was the first time I would try to recover from my eating disorder.

Recovery from my eating disorder was not linear and when I first sought treatment, new disordered eating patterns emerged. These new behaviours created more distress, more shame and made me feel completely helpless. I began to feel like recovery simply wasn’t possible. Midway through 2016 I would complete my bachelor of science. In celebration, I organised a trip overseas. Suddenly, recovery had a timeline.

This brings me to my trip to Europe in 2016. I was travelling with my best friend Sarah, but Anorexia tagged along as an uninvited guest. Anorexia tainted my trip to Europe, as I was unable to try the local cuisines. I never got to try a pretzel in Germany or paella in Spain. I also spent a lot less time taking in the culture and amazing cities, and more time focusing on not fainting. What is more, I lost my best friend of 10 years because my mental illness was becoming too much for her to deal with. I felt like the ground had been ripped out from underneath me. The one person I had counted on to never leave, did exactly that. While anorexia certainly stained some of my trip, I still have some pretty great memories from it. I mean, I did get that selfie with Daniel Radcliffe. I also met a girl called Nicky. Nicky and I had been talking for several months on tumblr. She was from Brisbane and it just so happened we would be in London at the same time. We didn’t realise it then, but Nicky and I eventually fell for each other, we dated for 6 months and unfortunately due to her own mental health Nicky decided that it would be best if we returned to being just friends. Being in a relationship with Nicky meant coming out to my parents. I remember coming out to my Dad and receiving the most heartwarming response that made me feel like he truly loved me for the first time in as long as I could remember. I had denied my sexuality for a very long time. I think deep down I knew I wasn’t straight from a young age. In primary school, while I had crushes on boys, I felt the same way about girls too. For me, coming out was like being freed from a straight jacket (pardon the pun). No longer did I have to fit into a tight mould. I had room to spread my wings, and be a little bit more of myself.

Nicky and I

When I returned home from my trip my eating disorder was out of control. Anorexia was my master and I was its puppet. So with guidance from my dietician, I had an inpatient stay at an eating disorder clinic. It was only now that I was officially diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa, despite 6 years of struggling. This was one of the hardest things I had ever done. It meant stopping exercise, eating 6 times a day and having bed rest for an hour after every meal. Life in the clinic was repetitive but it was what I needed. I was learning to be normal again. While a psychiatric admission is never easy, it isn’t all trudging through mud either. I made incredible connections with so many wonderful people, and to this day my two best friends, Kate and Jade, are people I met while inpatient. When in a psych ward, you are at your most vulnerable. You are going through your deepest and darkest stuff, but so is everyone else there. This made me realise that being vulnerable, truly is the secret of connection. It is through connection I have found reason to keep on living. With great people come great memories. I remember the morning of the 14th of October vividly. I was hoping for an email with an offer to study my dream degree. I had all but given up. I was sitting at the lunch table with all the other patients. I remember looking at my lunch with a similar expression as if you had served me a rattle snake. But I decided to check my email one last time. I couldn’t believe it. There it was, an offer to study Physiotherapy at the University of Melbourne. The sheer joy that accompanied that email had me in tears. The experience was only made better by the warm love and support I got from all the other patients. In that moment, any terror I had about the sandwich on the plate was temporarily alleviated. I was going to Melbourne. I also had my graduation ceremony for my undergraduate degree while inpatient. I woke up at 5:30am to get ready and make the hour and a half drive to the university with my parents where I got to see all my wonderful university friends. One of the other patients even got up at 5:45 to do my make up for me, which meant more to me than I could ever express – it truly is the little things that count. While this wouldn’t be my last admission, it was the first step in achieving a normal relationship with food. I also had the most amazing psychiatrist who I continue to see via skype – I never thought I would need to clean my room to prepare for a psychiatrist appointment. While he certainly is a quirky character, I mean we once discussed whether I was a really good pen, or a really terrible radio, I owe a lot of my recovery to him. With him, I was able to get the medication balance right, but also felt like my struggle was valid. Before moving to Melbourne I had a ‘top up’ admission to prepare me for living on my own.

Myself and Jade (left) and Kate (right). Yes Kate and I have the same dress.

Moving to Melbourne was a huge step for me, it would be the first time I lived out of home. This meant a lot of independence and freedom. The first thing I did was set up a new team. Anorexia was a tough opponent, and I needed back up. I was incredibly lucky and found an amazing psychologist and dietician. While it can take a long time to find the right therapist, when you do, it’s totally worth it. Moving to Melbourne had its challenges, I had no one making sure I was recovering, and I realised I had to recover myself. No one else was going to do it for me. About 3 months after moving to Melbourne, I relapsed. My exercise had increased and was impacting my study, and I was terrified to keep food in the house. Everything happened very quickly after that and I don’t really remember a lot of it. I had a meeting with the course co-ordinator who suggested I take a leave of absence. I couldn’t believe it. The course I had worked so hard to get into, was all about to be lost. I became medically compromised with very little immunity, and my iron levels were dangerously low requiring an IV iron infusion. I remember crying in my dietician appointment, it was the first time I had cried in front of someone for as long as I could remember. I was stuck. I felt like life was at a dead end. Hospital was being discussed, but I was determined not to let it get to that. With my dietician’s encouragement, I called Mum, and asked her to come down and help me get back on track. This marked a huge change, I had never sought help from my family. Their support had always been limited to financial support. I didn’t realise that they could be emotional support as well.

And so I clawed my way back. I finished the semester with 2 credits and a high distinction. Now, I am still studying physiotherapy, I have some wonderful friends even if they are mostly interstate. I am by no means recovered. I still stick to a meal plan, have regular dietician and psychologist appointments. I still have a long way to go, but I’m eating regularly and have a health relationship with exercise. The big lesson I had to learn was that recovery is not linear, in fact it looks more like you’ve handed a 3 year old a crayon, and that’s okay.

Me at the iconic Hosier Lane

*Which kiddo was me? the bottom right

The Morality of Food

It is no surprise that, with the health and wellness industry being valued at $3.7 trillion worldwide, food and exercise seem to hold some sort of moral value. People are quick to exclaim ‘I’m so bad for eating this chocolate bar, i’ll have to hit the gym this afternoon’, almost as if they are trying to balance the scales between what is ‘good’ and what is ‘bad’. The world has been so blinded by the ‘wellness’ industry that some of society’s beliefs are completely abhorrent. People’s bodies seem to invite judgements not exclusively on their health, but also their character. People who are ‘fat’ are seen as lazy, gluttonous and less worthy than the thin fitspo models such as Kayla Istines. To love salads is seen as saint-like but to love deep-fried mars bars is considered ‘dirty’. Sure, eating exclusively deep fried mars bars every day might lead to some health complications, but so will eating exclusively salads. The fact is our food choices have come to represent who we are underneath. The phrase ‘you are what you eat’ has morphed into something almost literal.

Society exists at two extremes that cannot co-exist. There is the pure, angelic salad eating, gym going yogi that spends far too long in their active wear drinking green smoothies (YUCK!); and then there is the pizza loving home body who spends more time in corpse pose than downward facing dog. We idealise one, and demonise the other. But life doesn’t exist in two shades, but on a spectrum. Just like all colours belong on a colour wheel, all food and all activities belong to life. If any one colour takes up too much space on the colour wheel, it starts to lose its innate beauty. A post by one of the multitude of health coaches, talks about how as a kid she never liked what society has dubbed ‘junk’ food and preferred to snack on fruit. It was almost as if she was writing while peering down her nose. I could feel the judgement through my computer screen. The sooner we can untie food from morals, the sooner people will stop burying their shame from eating ‘shameful’ foods by eating ‘shameful’ foods. The sooner we can untie food from morals, we can connect with others for who they are, and not their diet. The sooner we deconstruct the idea of good and bad foods, the sooner we can live enriched lives without the feer and shame that too often accompanies eating.

I doubt I need to inform you that we have an obesity epidemic. I would be surprised if you hadn’t seen at least one advertisement that advertises a ‘get thin fast’ program in the last two days. Health organisations caution us of the risks of obesity that we don’t even know are related to obesity (See my post Health at Every Size) and ‘health coaches’ and ‘lifestyle coaches’ take these facts and cherry pick them to suit their agenda. As a society we are fat phobic. People take offence at the sheer existence of fat people, let alone a happy fat person. The problem does not lie in the overweight population, it lies within society. We have dug our grave and now we have to lie in it. Not only have diets such as the low carb diet, low fat diet, paleo diet, the I only eat foods that start with ‘A’ diet failed to work, their introduction, our obsession with ‘healthy eating’ and the obesity epidemic all seemed to coincide. Could it be that dieting and modulating food intake with rigid rules is not an effective way of losing weight?

What is more, I offer that obesity doesn’t arise from a healthy relationship with food. Whether it be a clinical binge eating disorder, bulimia, EDNOS or a subclinical disordered relationship with food. Obesity does not come from a place of intuitive eating. If people listened to what their body wants and did not seek emotional comfort from food, I would argue that obesity would be a much smaller issue than it is today. Additionally, the language we use to describe foods has contributed to this epidemic. By calling a particular food a ‘treat’ we are giving it meaning as a reward. As such, a connection between the ‘treat’ and positive emotions develops and people begin to seek out these positive emotions by eating foods associated with them.

While some seek their emotional comfort from consuming large quantities of comfort foods, others draw stability and contentment from the moral superiority ‘clean’ eating gives them. People who are able to withstand the desire to eat comfort food or food that has been deemed ‘junk’ are seen to be disciplined, and well balanced. I argue that living at either extreme is not balanced.

As a society, we need to stop attributing moral judgement to foods because people are not the fat on their bodies, nor are they the muscles they have built or the bones you can feel. People are their kindness, their values, their interests and their beliefs; they are a summation of their life’s experiences and interactions. When will society stop being judgemental and start bothering themselves with what truly matters.

 

Should we be making films about mental illness?

The treatment and discussion around mental illness has gained a lot of momentum lately and it most definitely is a good thing. People are feeling more comfortable and more at ease to disclose their struggles and are taken more seriously when they do. In attempt to encourage the discussion and public understanding of mental illness, we have had an epidemic of films and TV series that attempt to address the issue. However, with the uproar surrounding ’13 Reasons Why’ and the confusion and mixed feelings about ‘To the Bone’, it seems vital to ask whether or not we are capable of getting it right. If we can, how do we do so? If we can’t why do we continue to make films that misrepresent mental illness or represent it in such a way that is irresponsible?

Mental illness is complex. Mainly because it is a disease associated with the brain, an organ that is largely misunderstood. To the outsider, it might seem that the person simply ‘isn’t trying’ or is ‘weak’ or just needs to ‘suck it up’ because everyone else does. But, that is where the misunderstanding lies, what a neurotypical feels and how they react internally is totally different. If someone had cystic fibrosis, you wouldn’t compare that chest infection you had the other week to their condition because it is simply not comparable. The same goes for mental health. As everyone’s brain is so unique as it is what makes us, well…us, mental illness cannot be definitely categorised. Even depression or anxiety look and feel different to different people. As such, can we expect to have an accurate portrayal of mental illness when it looks and feels so different across the spectrum? and should this stop the production of films who’s focal point centres around mental health?

It seems that the response to ‘To the Bone’ dictates that unless a movie manages to capture everyone’s experience accurately, sensitively and responsibly that there will always be an uproar. As discussed previously, this seems to be an impossible task as each individual’s illness develops differently, manifests differently and responds to treatment differently. In addition, the reactions to ’13 Reasons Why’ begs the question of can we do so safely. It seems that in response to the series there was a lot of public distress. A girl I spoke to even stated that in her country town there was an increase in self harm following the release of the Netflix series.

Furthermore, we need to look at whether or these films address and encourage appropriate healthy behaviours or whether or not they glamourise and trivialise the issue and discourage appropriate help-seeking behaviours. ’13 Reasons Why’ doesn’t mention mental illness throughout the entire series, and when Hannah finally reaches out for help, she is ignored and told that she is overreacting and not taken seriously. The show taught young viewers that if you reach out for help you will be shut down and ignored. For this reason, I feel the creators have failed to promote support seeking behaviours that would assist in the rise of mental illness.

While these shows are often aimed at education regarding mental illness and the ramifications it has on peoples lives, the creators need to remember that people who are grappling with their own mental illnesses will be drawn to watching it as well. Consequently, there needs to be a careful balance between exhibiting dangerous behaviours, and educating. The suicide scene in ’13 Reasons Why’ was utterly irresponsible. I understand they wanted the shock value, but by including a graphic representation of the event, it can not only trigger extremely visceral reactions in the already vulnerable but can be quite traumatising to watch. ‘To the Bone’ fails most, I feel, in the education. In none of my inpatient stays, nor in any other inpatient facilities I have heard of are patients allowed to simply eat what they want and as much as they want as long as they sit at the table, without meal support I might add. Furthermore, the diversity of sufferers was not demonstrated. With the exception of the African American girl with Binge Eating Disorder (BED), all patients were underweight white girls. This just reinforces the idea that anyone with a severe eating disorder must be underweight, while having an illusion of diversity. The reality is, while being inpatient you do see a lot of severely underweight individuals, but you also see individuals who would be considered to be of normal weight or even overweight by BMI standards. I do not feel that ‘To the Bone’ or ’13 Reasons Why’ did anything to educate or shed light on mental illness.

We have clearly missed the mark on the current films regarding mental illnesses, but the question is, can we get it right? I do not feel that we are able to portray the complete experience of Mental Illness in a fictional show, nor do I think we should try. Instead, a Q&A style show where people who have suffered from mental illness are asked questions relating to their experience. A show I feel helped stimulate discussion appropriately was You can’t ask that: Suicide attempt survivors, a show that no question is off limits and people with lived experience would answer them. This allowed sensitive and appropriate discussion of mental health.

It is clear that mental illness needs to be spoken about, but it is irresponsible to do so on a platform that serves as ‘entertainment’ as the dichotomy between accurate representation and dramatisation for television is too extreme. As a mental health advocate, I am extremely passionate about the education and destigmatisation of mental illness, but it must be done in an informative, responsible and sensitive manner.

The Skeletons in the Gymnasium

I was a gymnast, and part of me still is. I think there’s something about gymnastics that stays with you for years after you leave the sport. Maybe its the hours we spent in the gym or the shear intensity in which we trained, but part of me will always crave the feeling of flying. Gymnastics gave me life, I lived and breathed the thrill of landing a new skill for the first time, or sticking a perfect routine. I credit gymnastics with teaching me dedication, commitment and persistance. I am forever grateful for the sport and if I was to do my life over, I would do it all again. Gymnastics isn’t, however, all sparkles and leotards. It is pain, sweat and tears. It is a sport that nearly breaks you but also builds you. While I love the sport and always will, I cannot ignore the fact that we have skeletons in the closet that we pretend don’t exist. We all know they’re there but we just don’t talk about them.

If you have followed gymnastics at all, you have probably heard the tale of Christy Heinrich, an American Gymnast who died from Anorexia in 1994 at just 22 years old after a judge told her she was too fat to excel at gymnastics. While she is probably the most ‘famous’ case of eating disorders in the gymnastics world, she is by far not the only one. Some of the other elite gymnasts to have struggled with eating disorders include Nadia Comaneci, Cathy Rigby, Kathy Johnson, Vanessa Atler and Shawn Johnson. It is easy to say that the pressure to lose weight is a thing of the past, but to do so is a lie. It is easy to say that eating disorders in the gymnastics world are no longer an issue because being strong and muscular is more advantageous due to the increasing demands of the sport. I would like to pose the question and ask what this change in ‘ideal body type’ has to do with a reduction in eating disorders?

While you don’t have to be tiny to do gymnastics, being small will give you an advantage and I don’t mean physically. When recreational gymnasts are selected to move to squads in order to train for competition, it is always the littler, more petite girls that get chosen. The selection of the ‘ideal body type’ is made before they reach their 6th birthday, and that is simply the start. While the pressure to lose weight is no longer direct, it is still there. It is so subtle it is almost subliminal. After losing weight, I would recieve compliments from my coach telling me that I looked ‘stronger’ or that my ‘lines were cleaner’. Sometimes the comments aren’t so subtle, with the head coach once telling my team mate that she’s a ‘giant’, even if he was referring to her height, as a teenager giant got translated to fat. It seems no coincidence that myself and at least two team mates developed an eating disorder. I am also very aware that it is not an isolated issue among my club, among the ‘ED recovery community’ there are many ex-gymnasts that have gone on to develop eating disorders.

Please do not assume that I am saying that gymnastics causes eating disorders because that is simply not the case. Not everyone who does gymnastics develops an eating disorder, and not everyone with an eating disorder did gymnastics. There is, however, a correlation between personality types that thrive in gymnastics and are hallmark features of eating disorders. Perfectionism, diligence and tenacity are all traits that thrive in the gym, they are also traits that allow an eating disorder to develop. Together, these traits and the pressure to be thin to perform assist in the development of the perfect storm.

It is time that the gymnastics world acknowledges the prevalance of eating disorders in the sport and refuse to ignore the elephant in the room. Coaches should be well versed in the identification of eating disorders and clubs should have policies regarding the participation and require gymnasts to receive medical and psychological clearance by a doctor to train after being diagnosed and treated for an eating disorder. Under no circumstances should a coach weigh their gymnast. Regardless of level, if the gymnast can perform the required skills, the number on the scale is completely irrelevant. The weight of anyone, especially a child, is between the child and the doctor and never the coach. Additoinally, all coaches should frequently evaluate how they correct gymnasts and what other implications they may be making. Comments such as suck your stomach in, or tuck your bottom under can insinuate that they should be hidden and are ‘too big’. Instead, corrections such as ‘don’t arch your back’ or ‘pull up tall’ can elicit the same response without unearthing shame of one’s body.

Eating disorders have been and remain to be an issue that as a collective the gymnastics community fail to acknwoledge, leaving the skeletons to rot in the closet. It is time for an overhaul on the system and the implementation of protective and preventative measures to ensure that those at risk are identified earlier and referred to treatment, because too many lives have been lost to this horrible illness.

Running to Beat Eating Disorders

Several months ago I decided to fundraise for the Butterfly Foundation in hopes of raising not only awareness but also funds to go towards treatment of eating disorders and education for medical professionals and the public. This decision was made on a ‘running high’ after my fun run earlier this year, when I decided that I actually don’t mind running so much and it’s a really good way to fundraise. I hope to raise $1000 for the Butterfly Foundation which is enough to train health care professionals in a local community in the identification and treatment of eating disorders. So if you can spare a couple of dollars it would mean the world to me. A link to my fundraising page can be found here

I am aware of the irony of running for eating disorder awareness and it is something I have adressed in the past, but short from selling chocolates (which seems equally insensitive) it seemed like the next best thing. My problem I face now, is that when I signed up for this run I was physically well and mentally stable. Since then, I have had a significant relapse which showed in not only my mental health, but my physical health as well (which is a big warning sign for me as my body has always been extremely robust). After a lot of thought, I decided to take a break from the gym in order to try and turn this eating disorder around. It seemed I could eat if I exercised; and I didn’t have to exercise if I didn’t eat. Though I am determined to break that cycle so my psychologist told me that going to the gym was out of the question if I wanted to truly recover. As such, my new approach to exercise is that beyond quidditch and netball, I am not allowed to plan physical activity. If on a particular day I feel so inclined to go for a run then I may do so, but only if I fuel my body.

I am also instating a clause in my plan to run the 10km in October if I am well and I am fueling my body. If I am not well, I cannot run. I plan on telling my treatment team about the plan to participate in the Melbourne Marathon Festival and will let them decide whether or not I’m well enough to run on the day.