After being on a re-feeding meal plan for
almost 9 months, I can honestly say that shopping for clothes has not exactly
been the most enjoyable experience. Usually a monthly occurrence, this activity
would yet again be another addition to the list of ‘unknowns’ within my
recovery. Questioning what size I would be this time round, how would I react
to that news and what would be the consequential actions; all elements that
made the trip more of a distress than a pleasure.
As a former fashion student, I am always
astounded at the myriad of clothes on display within just one store. The
colours, cuts and trends excite me, and I commence with my lap around the shop
floor. It is an experience that awakens many senses- sight, hearing and touch.
The groupings of colour for certain trends, the upbeat music engaging my
interest and the complex textures within the multitude of fabrics. Previously,
this was an experience that would have enticed me into grabbing items of
clothes and rushing to the changing room. However, up until recently, it was a
situation where I found myself purely engaging my senses- observing, listening
and feeling- it caused much less stress that way.
Mentioned above, the undeniable effect of a
re-feeding meal plan means weight gain. You cannot avoid it- unless of course
you do not want to recover. I have come to realise that changing on the outside
has significantly less impact on my anxieties when I consider just how much
time and nutrients have been needed to repair my body on the inside. I have
gained a significant amount of weight since my admission into hospital, and it
has been terrifying. It causes absolute havoc with my emotions, my behaviours
and my actions. Restriction and over exercise beckon me, and the fight I have
to endure to resist them is exhausting. This temptation calls every day, so
consider the fuel that is added when shopping for clothes. The mirrors, the
mannequins, the sizes- it amplifies the desires of my eating disorder.
Another aspect of my Anorexia that I have
to contend with is guilt. I cannot spend money. I cannot treat myself. I cannot
deserve it. This is something that I have really struggled with since my
departure from university. I feel incredibly guilty about spending money,
considering how much I wasted in just those first three months, and the ongoing
debts for accommodation that were left to repay. Not only that, but the cost of
coming to visit me in hospital, the ongoing cost of food to supplement my meal
plan and the future costs of my second university venture. My parents are
always offering to buy me things, and as grateful as I am to their kindness, I
cannot help but not feel worthy of it. This frustration from my parent’s side
deescalates the mood in most circumstances, as I refuse to allow them to
contribute. Yes, of course there are cases when I do allow them to, but I am
sure they will vouch for me here when I say that it I certainly put up a fight.
Shopping for clothes is where this most commonly takes place. I usually see a
piece of clothing that I absolutely adore, and before I even pick it up off the
rail, I turn around the tag and look at the price. Normally after that, I
simply walk away. However, Mum being observant as she is, chases after me and
questions why I haven’t added it to the basket. Then the battle begins with me
saying I didn’t even like it, Mum disagreeing, me then trying to argue another
excuse, and Mum catching me out with the fact that I looked at the price tag. I
know she means well, and so I acknowledge that I need to iron out this flaw
within my mindset. However, up until my recent trip to Manchester, this has
been incredibly difficult.
I finally managed to enjoy my last
Christmas present, which was to see Jess Glynne live at Manchester with my
beautiful cousin. The trip spanned across two days, with it being part of her
21st birthday treat arranged by my parents. As she was being
pampered for the afternoon, my mum and I ventured into the city centre. I knew
I needed to get some clothes for my holiday, but after enjoying the time I was
getting to spend with two wonderful family members, the anxieties didn’t seem
to be rising as high as usual. Walking into a clothing store, I had a list of
what I needed to get, but unlike my usual self, I found myself eying up other items,
but not just eying them up, I was physically picking them up. Dungarees that I
had fallen in love with, a potential skirt for one of the family weddings I am
due to attend this year and a clingy dress all found their way into my basket.
I was enjoying trying to find pairing for the items, with the promise of
heading to the changing room to try out my creations. Sure enough, with Mum by
my side, I ventured to the cubicle and started to undress. Each item I removed
from my body presented a challenge as I looked in the full-length mirror.
Struggling to wriggle my skirt passed my bum- a skirt that I used to have to
wear with a vest and a jumper to make fit- I couldn’t help but chuckle to
myself. Yes, I did the routine scrutinise of my body, but the feeling of
jumping round a changing room to get in and out of clothing made a welcome
change from fastening a garment for it to slide straight off my body and pool
on the ground. Putting on my first outfit, I felt great; a pair of dungarees
that didn’t drown me, and a t-shirt that exposed my no longer skeletal arms. As
I peeled back the curtain I was greeted with multiple compliments, and the one
thing that was the most special of all- a smile on my Mum’s face. I repeated
the process with all of my chosen garments, and consequently purchased all of
them. I felt confident and proud with how I handled the experience, and
ultimately restored my faith in just how enjoyable- and normal- clothes
shopping is!
I want to find comfort in finding clothing
that suits my body shape, and as difficult as it is for me to comprehend, I am
aware that I need to gain more weight. After this positive experience, I have
become somewhat reserved about this, as I felt so confident with my body shape
as it is now. However, I hope that I can continue to fight these thoughts and
feelings, as I have done for so long now, and take on this battle when it
presents itself again.
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