I left for South Africa without my family to recover from my eating disorder

Sunday, February 25, 2018

I said goodbye to my two little boys, aged 3 and 1. I had to miss them for two months. During the farewell, I kept strong. But as soon as the door closed behind me, I broke down. What had I gotten myself into!? Two months without my dear little men. I really couldn't be without them! Both boys also had chickenpox. I felt like such a bad mother for leaving them like that. I hoped it wouldn't be for nothing and that they could forgive me later. My mother took them that evening so I could pack my last belongings in peace and say goodbye to my friend. It seemed better not to take them to the airport. It was miserable enough as it was.

In the weeks prior, I tried to prepare them for my departure through playful means

To the extent that it was possible, as young as they were. Yet more stuck with me than I thought. Especially the eldest realized that mom was sick. He would often say: “Mommy, food”. Or he would sit on his push car and tell me he was going to South Africa. It really broke my heart. But it didn't sink in enough. Anorexia had numbed me. I knew something had to change, but that was mostly rational. I often couldn't feel. It was only later that I could realize how much pain my eating disorder caused those around me. The months before were intense. I was there for the boys, but also not really. I couldn't work anymore. I had so little energy. Whenever we went somewhere, food was always an issue. Sometimes I would sit in a pancake house eating my own sandwiches. Every day was tightly scheduled with eating moments, which absolutely could not be deviated from. Then I would get angry. The anorexia was so intensely present. It controlled my life. I liked sleeping. Then I could rest and also do nothing wrong. Before my admission in South Africa, I attended part-time therapy in Rotterdam. During this therapy, I was weighed weekly. Inside, Mrs. Anorexia jumped for joy whenever I had lost weight. And meanwhile, I pretended to be very upset about it. Sometimes I felt like a superhero. Anorexia made me strong. I thought. Later it turned out to be one big bubble. I was in a huge bubble, while the world around me floated. A kind of time-out from life. That's how I look back on it.

Monday, February 26

It had come to this. I flew to Cape Town. Now there was no turning back. During the flight, I didn't eat anything. It felt like the last bit of control I could exert over my eating disorder. At the airport, I was picked up and taken to the clinic. Once in the clinic, it felt like I had ended up in a prison. Phone, camera, and wallet had to be surrendered. Chewing gum and snacks were thrown away. Even the magazines I had received had to be handed in. This was due to potential influential articles or provocative photos that could affect recovery. After that, I was weighed and given a brief health check. I had to leave my suitcases behind. They were later searched thoroughly. With a few belongings in my hands and my clothes for the next day, I was taken upstairs. It was dark and quiet. Everyone was already asleep. I was so incredibly scared. I felt truly lost. That first night, I barely slept. There was already a girl sleeping in my room. It felt so out of my comfort zone. I left our beautiful house in the Netherlands to have to share a small room here. It felt like I had ended up in a student house at the age of 32.

The first weeks in the clinic were terrible

I felt completely out of place and missed home. And my daily cups of coffee. I also had to get used to the strict regime. It took a while before I understood all the rules. You just had to do what was asked of you and eat what was on the table. “I don't like it” was not an option, and not a crumb should be left on your plate. The cooks always tried to make it a celebration. Gradually, I managed to enjoy it. We were not allowed to go to our room between meals. Only at 9:30 p.m. were we allowed to go upstairs. It was very intense to live in a group for such a long time. I missed having a little space for myself. Later, I understood how well thought out everything was. There was no room left for an eating disorder. You were lived, you were loved, and you were nourished. A few times a week, we joined meetings in Cape Town. Not only meetings for eating disorders but also for other addictions like alcohol and drugs.

Here it became clear to me that an eating disorder has so many similarities with other addictions

It was just one of the many ways to deal with an elusive situation. In my case, there turned out to be so much more beneath it. And my eating disorder was a result of burnout, postnatal depression, and unresolved issues from the past. By going so far away from my home front, I got the space to think about this. Talking, writing, reading: it all helped me to get better. At home, I was too close to it. In South Africa, I was allowed to be a child again. A girl with pain and sorrow who wanted to be comforted and didn't need to be so strong for a while. Who was allowed to be vulnerable again. But also a girl who liked to shine. Where in the Netherlands my weight was discussed every week, in this clinic, there was no possibility to see your weight. We were regularly taken out of bed at night to weigh. Our weight was monitored by a dietitian. It felt so good to be able to let go of that control. Of course, it was also difficult. There was also fear that I would gain an absurd amount of weight. Upon discharge, I was told my final weight. A voice in my head said I had failed, but an even louder voice was incredibly proud. I hadn't gained weight, I had recovered. A good step towards a healthy weight.

Thursday, April 26

The time had come. I was allowed to leave the clinic. Finally going back to my family. At Cape Town airport, I could finally use my debit card again and I made eager use of it. It was an adjustment to be alone again. But I couldn't wait to hold my boys in my arms again. On the flight back, I ate everything that was offered to me, even though it was in the middle of the night. The moment at Schiphol I will never forget. I rushed to my boys and didn't want to let them go. Mom was home again.

The months in Cape Town were incredibly tough

I would definitely not do it again. But they made me want to live again. Cape Town brought me peace. Peace to believe in myself and to love again. It's been almost two years, but I am still grateful every day for this choice. I chose life!

Anorexia is a complex disease, hardly explainable to others

It is a creeping disease. Slowly it creeps inside. No one sees it. It changes you into a different person and takes over control of your life. It makes you lie, cheat, move, starve, vomit, dull, and humiliate. It takes over the direction. And although I'm doing really well now, I remain vigilant. I don't believe in a 100 percent cure. Just like with an alcohol or drug addiction, I will always have to keep fighting for recovery. Every single day. Too much stress or responsibility can be deadly. Just like setbacks. Yet, these are part of life. Only now I choose to face them. I've stepped out of my bubble and am living again.

CHANTAL