Managing myself...with a little help from my little friends

I'm pleased to say that my bloating/gas problem has been much better lately. I still don't really have a clue why my stomach inflates so much at times - but I can't complain at the moment. It's much more comfortable when I don't feel as though I have been blown up with a bicycle pump, and this has let me relax a bit more.

It seems my saviour - or rather, saviours - are those that work on the very microscopic scale. I was on the verge of going on an elimation diet (no diary, wheat or processed foods) when my parents convinced me to give probiotics a try again. I'm always a bit wary of "health fads": we've all seen those adverts that seem too good to be true ("Raspberry ketones can help you loose a stone in two weeks! Only £50 a bottle"). Yet probiotics have been around for a while now and have some science to back them up. What really convinced me though was my dad giving me a packet of Yakult drinks and a bottle of pills called - rather appropriately - 'Mightidophilus'.

Even after only two days, I felt different: less like a ruminant and more like a human again. Things have improved since then and now I would describe my gassy condition as 'manageable' - still not quite right, and a bit uncomfortable at times, but largely something I can ignore. I do have bad moments though- for instance, either an apple or some almonds triggered a bad reaction the other day. Nevertheless things are much much better than they were! Yesterday I listened to a BBC Radio Four Food Programme special on our gut microbiomes and these have convinced me that we are only just beginning to understand how important our millions of 'little friends' are for our health. It's well worth a listen!

The clue's in the name...

In other areas, I'm not managing myself quite so well. Some calorie-counting rules have sneaked back in, making me restrict my treats and suppers to certain amounts again. It saddens me to see how weak I am to these obsessions but at least I haven't gone back to the stage of weighing out every last raisin.  Meanwhile, in the gym I am just keeping my workouts within a time limit, although this is probably a little longer than it should be, especially for when I go back to start my PhD.

And I have to keep on top of the weight situation as well. If I wobble, I have to correct it straight away - I don't have a safety net. I should clarify that although I hit my target weight on my last doctor's appointment, the final decision for whether I can go back will be made in my big "Review Meeting" in August. This will involve everyone who has a say in my care - my supervisor, GP, mental health therapist, care coordinator, etc. At the very least, I MUST maintain my weight until then. Yet there is part of me that still secretly rejoices if I do lose a little weight, that tells me this is the way to boost my self-esteem. This is the part of me that would have me starve myself to nothing, that whispers that it would be the best outcome if I dwindled to nothing and made myself as small and inoffensive as possible.

But then there is a part of me that loves feeling strong, being able to do press ups in circuits classes and having the energy to power up the hills of this fair city. Sometimes I don't feel so much a person, more a meeting place between a good voice and a bad one. And it is an exhausting place to be sometimes...

Thanks for reading - may you have a good week ahead.

Links:
BBC Radio Four Food Programmes "That Gut Feeling", Part 1 and Part 2.

On my way

I didn't know what to expect. My therapist didn't say a word as she noted down the figure on the scales then led me out of the clinic room. I was resigned to the outcome whatever it was; I simply, didn't have any fight left in me to contest it. 

"Well Caroline, you've finally reached the target BMI of 17"

It seemed an age before I could process this. Eventually I managed to speak : "Does this mean I can go back to do my PhD?"

"It looks like it, yes".

I should have been dancing on the ceiling, or completely overcome with relief. Instead I felt numb and flat. Why?! Weren't these the very words I had been waiting since October to hear?

Yes, it IS a monumental relief. I can finally start to look forward to going back to do my own research ( instead of just writing about other people's!) I won't have to leave Sheffield or look for another job. It IS wonderful!

But somehow, I am disappointed. I think I expected more from this year, as though simply having been given all this time to "get better" would automatically bring about some profound changes. Ok, I have put some weight on. But has anything really changed?

1. I have still cut out almost an entire food group from my diet ( starchy carbs) and have no intention of introducing them again

2. I am still unhappy with my body shape, with my 'wide' legs and bloated tummy

3. I still get a lot of gas and wind, which blows my stomach up and makes me even more depressed about my shape. I also still get water retention at times.

4. I am staring to slip back into bad, calorie-counting habits, restricting how much I eat at times so that it doesn't exceed a certain total

5. My exercise compulsion is stronger than ever

This last point is probably the worst. A few months ago, I had such good intentions - two days off a week and a mini- holiday every month. All fallen by the wayside. Each day is miserable until I can get my workout done and then I can focus on other things - until the next day rolls round again.

It seems nothing has really changed in my mind. I feel like a fraud when people say "well done" or call me a strong woman. I feel as though I haven't been strong or courageous enough - I have only done the bare minimum, and not really challenged my demons. 

If I am stuck like this for life, I deserve it. 

But maybe I should just take things one step at a time. For now, this is enough. 

Getting out of control again...

I realise that's been a while since my last post. To be honest, I felt quite flat after the conference in Brighton, so perhaps I was waiting until I was in a more positive frame of mind before I wrote again. But this hasn't really happened - instead I feel like I am going round and round in circles.

First though - how did I cope with the conference? In terms of the work, it was very full-on but I just about managed to cover all the sessions and interviews that I wanted to do (for a full round up, see my other blog). As for the food, I set myself some general rules to stop myself from panicking in the face of the onslaught of temptations every day. The breakfast buffet: avoid the pancake bar, pastry stand and the cooked/fried zone and stick to fruit and yoghurt. Lunchtime: Make friends with the catering staff and persuade them to make me a simple salad on the basis of not being able to eat bread/rice/potatoes/etc. Avoid the sleep-inducing warm pudding. Dinnertime: supplement little bits of whatever is on offer with copious amounts of salad bought from a supermarket. So despite the fact that Brighton's most famous culinary offerings are fish and chips, Brighton Rock and ice cream, I actually ended up eating quite well.

But it was unfortunate that everything I ate still had to be "earned" each day through exercise. Even if it meant I only got 5 hours sleep, I still hauled myself out of bed each morning before 6 am to hit the hotel gym. The facilities were very limited, but with treadmills, watt bikes and a range of dumbbells, I had all I needed to work up a sweat. Not to mention the cardio HIIT routines I can do with just my iPad and a bit of floor space.

How unbelievably sad. Here I am, a 25 year old woman attending a conference as a professional writer and instead of just being able to enjoy the experience, I have to make it difficult for myself. Anyone else could say "I'm here to work, so I will focus on that and make sure I get enough rest" but not me. Naturally, it was completely unsustainable and I was exhausted by the end of it all.

Am I going to have this all my life? Will I always be a slave to the fear that I will inure myself and so not be able to work out and then what will I do?! How could I eat??!!

Conference 'Fuel'

And so the exercise obsession is digging its claws in again. You may remember that not so long ago, I was having two days off each week (Monday and Friday). COMPLETELY off, I didn't even go in the gym! But then I though, maybe I could do a few weights on Monday - it would still be a day off really but it would help me improve faster. Then it became a few weights and a bit of cardio. Then I started to do them on Friday too. And now it is turning into quite a bit of cardio and weights on top...
I can't actually remember the last time I had a day off now.

After all this time, I ought to know better and to be able to nip this in the bud. For one thing - if/when I start my PhD again, I simply won't have time to spend this long in the gym. So I have started to 'clock watch' a bit more closely now - I have to finish within 1 and a half hours (including warm up) as this is the most I could fit in before starting work in the morning. My trouble is that once I add something extra into my routine, it becomes the new "normal", so I feel guilty if I don't do it next time. So workouts get longer and longer and become even more of an emotional challenge to get through.

Each night, before I fall asleep, I wonder what it would be like to be different, to not have these obsessions. Imagine only going to the gym when you felt like it...imagine not going at all!!!

Exercise in itself is good, but I fear it may destroy my hopes to return to my studies. Tomorrow I will effectively find out if I have met my target in time. And if I haven't .... what will I have to show for all those hours in the gym? All those times when I diverted guilt by giving in to the compulsion to work out.... it won't match up to the grief and anger I will feel towards myself.

Fingers crossed.

On location....coping with a conference

One of the best things about a career in science is the opportunity to travel - for field work, to visit other labs, to share knowledge at conferences etc. Right now, I am in Brighton for the Annual Meeting of the Society for Experimental Biology. I have been invited as an official 'science reporter', to scout round the different sessions for interesting stories for the society's Bulletin Magazine. A week of being immersed in exciting new research, meeting fascinating people, networking, public engagement...it should be the dream.

 So why does my first thought have to be How am I going to cope with the FOOD?!

It's hard to remember back to when I could go away completely spontaneously without giving the catering a second thought. But now, whether  it is for a day workshop, a visit home, a holiday abroad...the food arrangements are always a source of worry. I veer between wanting to bring EVERYTHING with me including the kitchen sink, and  wishing I could just turn up and accept whatever is on offer - like everyone else!

The main problem is my refusal to eat so many foods - pasta, rice, bread, potatoes, noodles - any starchy carbs in other words! As I am being put up in a rather nice hotel, I'm not too worried about breakfast; it's sure it be a better offering than toast and cereal. But lunch is always a minefield - will it just be rows and rows of polystyrene-like sandwiches? Will there be a TESCO nearby where I could nip out for a salad? Meanwhile, what to do for the evening meals? Unfortunately, avoidance has to be my strategy when it comes to formal dinners. Who knows what ideas and conversations I will sacrifice just because I couldn't face the food?

This time, I have adopted a compromise and bought a very select range of supplies, including fruit, a lettuce and some 'safe' ( calorie controlled) treats to help me avoid the dessert table.  I hate being confronted with buffet tables groaning with sweet treats - all mocking me because I can't help myself with cheerful abandon. If I go over the limit I set myself...guilt guilt guilt ensues. 

As for exercise...well, wouldn't it have been nice to have had a week off the gym, so that I could focus purely on my task with all my energy? But no. I still can't quite make that jump of going so long without exercise. My workout gear is in my bag, and I have been assured by the website that the hotel has a reasonable gym. As long as I am up at six, I should be able to fit in a workout before the breakfast meeting...and then a long , busy, tiring day on my feet that stretches into the evening. Why do I have to make things so much harder than they have to be?

Will I have this for all of my life?! Will I ever be able to go away without worrying about working out or eating?! This makes me feel unforgivably preoccupied with food - a greedy person that doesn't act 'normally'. But then again, recovering anorexics aren't the only people who might get anxious about uncertain catering arrangements. Those with allergies, fussy children, special nutrition requirements or who follow very particular diets ( such as the Paleo diet) may very well bring some supplies with them. So where does one draw the line between 'eating disorder' and 'taking a greater interest in their food'? Am I really so very different to someone who brings their own tea bags or coffee because 'the hotel stuff tastes rubbish'?

It wouldn't  seem much of an issue except I still have over a kilogram to gain to meet my target weight. And if I am not there by my next doctors appointment, things do not look good. 

I will let you know how I get on. Wish me luck and Thank You for reading!