But here, I want to get more into the nitty gritty... more or less so that you can probably all relate to on some level.
Anybody who has EVER been addicted to exercise - will know how hard, and how scary the thought of ever breaking out of your habit can be. It feels like you have an unbreakable connection - for me it was me, my feet and the pavement. I had to run. I must run. If I missed a run, I would literally want to rip my skin off and I couldn't function. My anxiety would be through the roof - I couldn't focus on anyone or anything except the fact that I had missed a run. I literally would have to wipe the day.
My whole days during high school were consumed with planning my next workout - just going about my lonesome day, thinking about excercise and getting slim. I was completely, utterly, obsessed. But - I was happy just doing my own thing. I always have been.
On my weekends, I wouldn't hang out with my friends - except the monkey would reassure me the weekend was a good time to get more exercise in! So I would literally walk EVERYWHERE - just to get that slim feeling on my legs again.
The more and more addicted to exercise I got, the more I controlled my food, and the more I fell back into those relapses. I could see myself getting emaciated again. I became anxious, and I could sense my parents knew something was up, but, as any well trained anorexic does - we keep secrets. Very, very, well.
I have a lot of people ask me (parents) how to cope with a daughter or son that is anorexic. I really feel for you all, because, it is SO heart renching. It literally breaks my heart when I see somebody suffering, or know of somebody because I know how dark that place can get.
My word of advice to parents would be - always have faith. Learn to trust your daughter or son, just dont trust Anorexia. You have to get familiar with Anorexia's voice - you have to know the signs. It's going to take time. It's going to take broken hearts and secrets. Learn to separate whats anorexia and whats your child. That way - you know to hold onto what really matters, and destroy what really doesn't.
When I look back on it, I must have put my body through absolute hell going from such deprivation - to such overload and creating a new obsession with EATING food, instead of restricting.
I had the immense fear - that I wasn't going to get to taste all the food. So I made it my priority, to hunt out all the food I could and consume it all. I had no control over this, people ask "Why don't you just stop? Or why don't you think about how you feel after?"
The truth is, none of that, I mean NONE of that goes through your mind before a binge.
You literally only see the food. Only think the food. Only want the food. You are the food.
You consume the food. The food consumes you.
It's a blissful, beautiful but sadistic relationship. The first bites of tasting what you are dying to binge on, are beautiful, then it slowly or rapidly progresses into a rampage - where you taste no taste, you feel no feelings. You just eat. The process of munching away munch after munch is sensationally numbing. It feels beautiful, like a drug. You forget your problems. You have no pain. You just have food.
Then the binge is over. It's never really quite 'over'.
I always found myself asking, 'Can I fit more?' - so I would try, only to be left in agonizing pain after the mindless food rampage had ended. That's when it was time to stop.
The guilt hadn't sunk in straight away, first I needed to sleep the binge off.
I would sleep in my car, as I was too embarrassed to go home to my Dad and my step mum (Forgot to mention my parents split after my Anorexia - this is another bag of fish), Was too embarrassed to ever face anyone. Too embarrassed to look at myself. I would wake up feeling full of bread, scones or whatever I had eaten - as if it was still sitting in my mouth. I felt dirty, bloated, whale-like and disgusting. I hated myself, and would just drive and absolutely ball my eyes out, and go start another binge because it would numb the pain.
When I discovered drugs, that became my new lease on life. I would love the feeling of 'deserving a binge' after being high on drugs all day and not eating. I felt depleted, worthy and so dry that I could get way with eating a copious amount of food. I held it well for a while and managed to maintain a lean physique - but my mental sanity was nothing bearable. I would literally drive past the sushi shop on the way to work after no sleep and buy 4 rice balls and 2 trays of teriyaki chicken on rice, all with extra crunchy chicken, extra mayo and extra avocado. I would have eaten them all before I got to work. Why do you ask? Because It tasted good. I had no control. I had no choice, the monkey just took me there and I bowed down to it because it was all I had.
I hold myself accountable for every single thing I have put in my mouth.
I hold myself accountable for every decision I have made.
I hold myself accountable for all the things I stole of those close to me, those who I lied to and those who I backstabbed in this time of despair.
I was so far gone.
I had this beautiful image and dream in my head of living a fitness model lifestyle.
It was the inner Anorexic inside of me that wanted to be thin, but it was ME, Sam, who wanted to be healthy. So I had to make a compromise.
NZ's Next Top Fitness Model.
I saw that. I wanted that.
Righto here goes nothing.
Literally. The whole time I tried to get back onto my comp prep diet I would literally just blow out and eat sushi, not train, and just lie to myself about how I was looking and feeling. Making lies about me being on track to try and justify having a cheat meal 3 times a week.
Comp rolled around super quickly, and I had GAINED weight as apposed to losing it. I was taking about 5 turbo fat burners a day, not sleeping, not eating properly and binging at least 3 times.
I've never made myself purge, hence, the weight gain was always going to happen.
I remember the night before I flew up to Auckland in 2012 I literally just balled my eyes out. What the fuck had I done. I was SO embarrased about getting on stage, because I knew point blank that I was going to be the largest girl there. I wasn't going to have the hottest body. I had created this big shiny, image of myself online that I was amazing and I bloody well couldn't live up to my words. I was a liar. I hated myself, and it showed on the outside.
But you know what? Fuck, I got on stage. I actually put on a smile and didn't give a fuck what anyone thought. I haven't paid for flight tickets or entered this comp for nothing. So I got up there, made the biggest dick of myself and had fun.
It was a 2 day event, straight after the first day I went back to where I was staying and ate a whole bag of chocolate and biscuits one of my friends had given me and cried myself to sleep.
What an idiot. Day 2 was bikini, so I woke up with chocolate still around my mouth and had to face the world in a bikini.
It was the most wrenching and horrible - but amazing - experience of my life.
I'm still thankful for those who gave their time to me and believed in me, and supported me 100% along the way.
So coming back down to reality, I realized maybe Fitness Modelling wasn't for me.
So, I went back to my food and my drugs.
Throughout this whacked period - I created my own photography business. Articul8.
I am an artist, a creator, a passionate one at that by nature. It's my 'thing'.
I followed the NZ bodybuilding scene all of last year - taking my trusty wee camera with my everywhere, working my magic on the beautiful physiques, staring in admiration. How on earth did they do it?? Here I was with a bag of scorched almonds in my bag wondering what they were going to put on for morning tea that I could binge on.
Food ruled every second of my life. And, ruined a lot of relationships and a lot of clientele for me business wise. I would get hyper anxiety, that I would miss a binge because I had to do a photoshoot. So I would make some dumb excuse, and sit there and cry myself into a food coma.
One thing that gave me a spark of hope that there was more to life than this existence - is one of my best friends, Claire. I owe a lot to her, as she was a friend I'd never had. I could finally help someone, and she could finally make me laugh and forget about shit. I had some of the funnest times of my life with that girl and I owe a lot to her for helping me in a way she'll never understand, giving me strength to actually believe in myself. She believed in me when I didn't.
From Claire, I met my partner whom I am with today - Josh. This boy is my everything. From the moment I saw him, I thought he was ridiculously weird, but there was a connecting moment that had awoken my soul and made me smile on the inside - I had hope that I could have more in life that this existence I had created for myself. Finding someone at there lowest point, when you are at your lowest too - is one of the most beautiful healing experiences I have ever experienced. I am ever so thankful for everything this wonderful man has given me, and the trust and love he provides. I count myself very lucky every single day.
These two people - are my rocks.
Fuck, I needed to sort my shit out.
I moved out to my mothers.
I hadn't talked to my mom in about a year - I don't know why. I never had an answer as to why I didn't talk to her, I just wiped her off. I couldn't be fucked. It's a whole different story going into my parents, but just trust it was for the right reasons at the time.
So I moved out into the country with mum. My body hadn't sleep for 3 days because I had been on drugs for 3 days straight, I was hallucinating. I literally sat in my room and thought I could see the devil everywhere. I cried myself to sleep on the couch and refused to sleep in my room for a week.
I was a mental, shattered piece of glass that needed careful mending.
It took a few weeks for my body clock to regulate back out.
I was on the verge of losing my job, so I quit my job at the gym.
I did the usual thing I do - just dissappear because I got too anxious about people seeing me.
From training everyday high on drugs, to binging everynight - My body & mind - was exhausted. It didn't know what was up.
I had been about 3 weeks sober, and I have never felt so depressed in my life.
All I wanted to do was sleep.
Depression's a funny subject - because everyone has their own ideal and own perception of it. Which is fair enough, it's very vague.
But for me - it was this deep sadness, this feeling that life was lost for me and I just had no where to go. No direction. I was in a pit of gloomy fatness.
I stopped training completely, and got into a habit of eating all day because I was bored.
I would eat toast, wraps, nutella, hot chips, falafel. I'd just cook all day and just eat and sit around doing nothing. I enjoyed being lazy for once. I tried to justify it was okay, because I'd had 'such a hard year'.
I ended up gaining about 10-15kg and weighed in around 75kg at this point.
I don't think I've ever been so embarrased about my body in my life.
It was that embarrasment, that slowly drove me towards making some change.
In my next blog, I will go through the in's and out's of me getting back into training, finding a new job and how I was coping with my food and binges. It was a up and down cycle, and I think a lot of you will be able to relate.
Thankyou once again for reading
XX Sam
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