I wanted my smile for so long…

I spent so long working up the courage to finally go to the dentist and get my smile back. I worked hard on being able to sit in the dentists chair without freaking out and having panic attacks. I overcame the fear that arose every time a needle was mentioned and I would literally swing my arms and legs about if I thought for a second that you were going to come anywhere near my teeth before I was ready.

I had a dentist who would say he was numbing your mouth, and he did, but he started the work long before your mouth was numb. I had my own mother hold me down because I was petrified and all she did was add fuel to the flames. I had reasons after reasons for avoiding the dentist. I mean I could brush my teeth a thousand times, but the stomach acid that I was bringing up was going to do more damage than brushing them could ever fix. I could have stopped eating the stuff that I was, but atleast I was eating and that mattered to me more.

Last Thursday, I had 12 teeth ripped from my mouth with countless stitches and I was so over the moon. The pain didn’t matter because I had my smile back and that was all that I wanted for the longest time. I wanted to not be ashamed of my teeth. I wanted to be able to talk and smile without having something in front of my mouth. The dentist put me on paracetamol, ibuprofen and dihdrocodeine and by Monday, I was back up the doctors getting something stronger because I was crying my eyes out. After taking a look at how swollen and sore my mouth was, I was prescribed tramadol. Two days later, I was back up the doctors getting antibiotics because there was an infection in one of the gaps which of course meant I was in even more pain.

I haven’t eaten a full meal since last Wednesday. I cant chew because its still way too sensitive. I have an ulcer appear where the denture sits on my gums because its constantly rubbing and I have swallowed way too much salt water to ever want to go near the ocean again. I am still in pain over a week after it happened and today I cried my eyes out. I cried because, for the first time in 9 days, I want my horrid teeth back. I want to be able to eat a meal, hell i’d settle for being able to suck on cake without it hurting. I cried because today, even though I love my smile, I wanted to go backwards.

I know that my teeth will be worth it. I know that of course I should expect pain, I had 12 teeth out and that’s a big operation. But right now, I am in a vulnerable state. I am in pain and I do spend most of my time sleeping or taking tablets. I am so thankful that Kieran has managed to be amazing, like he always is with Luna and has been doing an incredible job looking after her whilst I’ve been recovering. Thank you to my amazing friends who have rang me countless times to check up on me and thank you Liam for always letting me wake you up when I’m awake in pain. Thank you all for not letting me go through this by myself.

 

Thank you for reading, as always you can follow me on Twitter and Insta @openupwithme or head over to my facebook page by searching ‘openupwithmeblog’. Until the next time, don’t stop smiling. Ferrari. ❤️

I ate a full meal!

You’re probably thinking, we do that everyday, why is it so special? But for me, to eat a full dinner is something that rarely happens, I thought I best celebrate it.

It may look repulsive to you, but my goodness, it was delicious.

I don’t normally post pictures of my food but this meal was truly delicious. The chicken was fried in BBQ seasoning mixed in with peppers and onions, boiled potatoes and green beans fried in butter. It was on a big plate and I’m not going to lie, I was a little overwhelmed by the amount of food, but I ate it! I even ate chocolate afterwards, but that’s because white chocolate is life. I ate enough of the big bar that I went out and brought a few more as it was originally Luna’s chocolate and I felt a little guilty.

I said that I would be keeping a food journal and for the last few days I have been. I’ve noticed that although breakfast is the most important meal of the day, I can only eat something light. At the moment, it’s a glass of orange juice and hot cross buns but I am also partial to a teacake. I guess something little is better than nothing at all. Right?  Today I had a chicken salad for lunch and again I ate it but it was on a little plate so I didn’t really question it. I will not eat toast or sandwiches for lunch so I have had a lot of salad, its not as filling as easier on my stomach. For tonight, we have the last bit of chicken, so it will probably be made with pasta and salad. Lets hope that I can actually finish tonight’s meal. 

I am encouraging myself to eat and some days its easier than others. I mean it helps that Kieran is an amazing cook and doesn’t mind trying out weird recipes that I concoct in my head. After all, some of our favourite meals have come about that way. I have noticed that I tend to avoid doing the same thing in a row and I prefer to eat it fresh than things that are frozen and I cannot let myself get too hungry or I become a horrible person. I have noticed that I starve myself the most when I feel like my emotions are out of control, so its a mixture of control and twisted self body image. It helps that I have such a great support network, my best friends celebrate every meal I managed to eat and keep down because to me, it’s a big thing. I am lucky like that.

I know that it’s not about to just disappear and I probably watch what I eat more than I let on, but I am getting better. I am finishing meals and I’m not wanting to be sick. I know that every day is a battle, to know that I estimate how many spoonful’s my dinner will take, which is unhealthy. I know that when I literally have to force myself to swallow my food, I am full and keeping a little down is better than bringing a lot back up. I know that I put my body through a lot, but finally I am starting to enjoy food enough to actually want to cook it. I am letting go of the control of how much I eat by knowing exactly what I’m eating. 

Tomorrow, I have the dentist! Yes, let me tell you I am dreading it! I am going to be having some work done which means I will be sedated, thank goodness!! It does mean that Kieran has to navigate the tubes with a very high person, (if I wasn’t out of it, id laugh, so you should be) but it means I wont be posting about it until maybe Tuesday? Depends how my body recovers from it, let’s hope the addisons stays in check or I wont be checking out of hotel de NHS. Hope you all have a great day and I will be back soon. Ferrari.❤️

Eating disorders…

The other day I posted about a few complications that come with having an eating disorder. I spoke about how the cycle is continuous and hard to break. How I feel sick when I don’t eat and then sick when I do. I’ve since eaten and felt worse.

On Sunday, I ate more in a day than I have done for a while. I started off with a quarter of a waffle, (proper pushed the boat out with breakfast), it wasn’t a small waffle, but one that took up the entire big plate. It made me feel overwhelmed and stuffed just from looking at it. However, despite the fact that I don’t eat breakfast, I still managed to eat something because I knew I was travelling today. I tried not too overeat as that would make me feel sick so I stopped when I felt full not that it took that much. Lunchtime I had managed to eat a whole double cheese burger from McDonald’s, something I had failed to do the day before (I only managed half) and a handful of chips. For dinner, I ate most of a roast dinner. However that’s when my body had decided I had eaten too much and I was sick. I felt totally guilty because it was a lovely meal cooked by Katie who is Kieran’s step mum. Within minutes of finishing the meal or at least as much as I could, I was running upstairs to puke and was sick two or three times.

Now, I don’t know how many others with eating disorders do this, but I have found that my body gets overwhelmed by a big plate. My brain tells me that there’s too much food on the plate and I feel like a pig, even if it’s a small portion on a big plate. I also cannot stand knowing or seeing my weight. My brain could read that I weigh less than 8 stone and I’d still think I was overweight. It stems from people calling me fat even though I’ve never been bigger than a size ten (unless I was pregnant. But that doesn’t actually count). They made me feel like I had to watch what I ate and watched the weight I put on. That’s not acceptable.

I also have a huge problem with stepping on scales. I refused to have scales in our home because it scares me. I’m scared that I’m going to step on the scales and it will read out fatty, (not likely to happen but still, my brain likes to overwork) or they would break. I hate knowing how much I weigh because I’m scared that I’d starve myself or overeat to the point of sickness. Now, the sickness isn’t intentional however at one point, it was. My body got so used to throwing up after eating that it would be an almost instant reaction, sort of like today. However, I stepped on a set of scales regardless. I weighed myself without being asked and without even thinking. I guess you could say curiosity got the better of me. And I hated seeing that it was less than 8 stone. Because even though I think that anything over 8 and a half stone is too big and under 8 is unhealthy, I can’t help but feel like it’s a battle I’m losing. Yet, today, I weighed just over 7 stone and that’s not good.

So I’m gonna start a food journal. I’m going to try and encourage my body to eat little and often. And once a month, I’m gonna review my weight and what I’ve eaten. Hopefully, I’ll be able to put some weight on before I start to turn it into muscle. Because this year, I want to be healthy.

Thank you for reading. And I hope you all have a great day. Ferrari ❤️

I wish I could eat…

Have you ever tried to live with an eating disorder? Let me tell you, it’s the worst!!

I can’t remember the last time I ate properly. To actually eat at least one meal. I just can’t. I can’t physically bring myself to eat and I know it’s stupid. Okay! I know that I can’t control my emotions so I control my eating. Granted, I’ve stopped forcing myself to be sick after eating, now I’m just starving myself.

It’s not because I want too most of the time. I’m just not hungry. That’s the truth. See, starving yourself shrinks your stomach. You don’t feel hungry, you just feel sick. And then you eat, and you feel worse. So you question the point of eating. But not eating steals my energy, steals my sleep and still doesn’t stop. But I can’t bring myself to eat properly. I lost four stone in two months because I thought I was too fat. I weigh less than 8 stone and I think I’m too fat. You can all sit there and tell me I’m not, but you’re not my head so it doesn’t matter. My head tells me I’m fat. I look in a mirror and I see the fat faced chick that I was and I hated it. I looked healthy and I hated it. (I had not long given birth, so my face was still carrying pregnancy weight, yet I didn’t see it like that.)

I was pregnant with my little beauty and would look in the mirror and think I was fat. I hated being pregnant. It didn’t matter that I was carrying my baby, making sure she was healthy and eating enough to satisfy her, yet I couldn’t stand myself. I wouldn’t change it. But I couldn’t stand the fact that I went from 7 and a half stone up to nearly 12… she weighed FIVE POUNDS yet I had gained over four stone. So as soon as I stopped breastfeeding, I cut my eating down again and never picked it up.

I wish I could eat properly. I wish I wasn’t so paranoid about my weight. I wish I could enjoy all the foods I used to love. Maybe one day I will but for now, I just wish I could eat something. Anything. Because every time I do, I gag. I’ve tried eating little and often, I’ve tried supplement drinks and I’ve tried training my brain to think of a small plate as less food. Nothing is helping. Maybe. That’s what I’m holding onto. A maybe that the clinic will help me. Because I can’t be like this.

I NEVER want to be that size again.

Thanks for reading. I truly appreciate it. Ferrari❤️