Things I’ve Overcome: A Hopeful Post

I'm only 23, but sometimes I feel as though the things I've experienced are ones others don't experience in their lifetimes. I've fought so many battles, found myself in situations that I couldn't have imagined in my worst nightmares, and endured many sleepless nights. But this post isn't a trauma dump, Dolls, it's about inspiring you to keep going through and past every moment that you not just don't want to, but don't believe you can. Because, as my mum and dad always tell me: 'You. Can.'

---

The adult ward (C4A)

The dated interior was what scared me most. It looked the way psych wards looked in the old thrillers, except worse and much more frightening, because I wasn't a viewer behind the screen, nor an actor in the scene, but there, in real Life. What I would've given to be an actor. Since that admission, I've been more afraid, but up until this point in my life, I was the most afraid I'd ever been. I sobbed the whole time I was there. I remember the one and sole time I smiled, and that was when my dad visited me. This admission occurred during COVID, so there was a visiting rule that you could only nominate one person as your designated visitor. We chose my dad because he would logistically be able to visit me more frequently than my mum. But I needed my mum. And my dad. But I needed my mum, my mummy, to tell me everything was going to be okay and that she was there. But she couldn't tell me she was there because she wasn't. And I felt so devastatingly alone. I was there for seven days. On the seventh, my mum begged and pleaded with my private psychiatrist to take me back under her care just to get me out of the prison cell that C4A was. That admission was easily, or more suitably, not easily, the longest week I'd spent anywhere in my life. But I got through that week. It took multiple phone calls a day with my family, endless reruns of 'Black Mirror', and stupid amounts of colouring in. But I survived. My bravery, tenacity and belief got me through the hell that anorexia had placed me in.

---

Nurses

There was such a lack of understanding about eating disorders in both the public and private hospitals. My parents, on multiple occasions, attempted to educate the nurses, but they had no desire to learn, were completely dismissive and uninterested. They often abused their power through control mechanisms. For example, one nurse knew I had OCD, and after I'd spent an hour cleaning, she threw everything into the bin to make it dirty. Another nurse came up to me as I was challenging my eating disorder by trying a new, scary flavour and accused me of tampering with it. I just went to my bedroom and cried because I felt so defeated. I felt as though nobody believed I was trying when I truly was. And it was beyond trying, it was, at those points in my life, barely managing to make it through the day. Now, my mum jokes with me if I haven't scraped the bottom of things because I am so far from trying to get away with things that it's laughable how unnecessary their assumptions and presumptions were. My family and I are built on a foundation of love and trust, and hospitals are built on the antithesis of those things: regulations and order.

---

Lost in Sydney

My parents had booked a trip to New York at the same time I had to go to a private hospital. The private treatment is much more supportive and gentle than the public treatment. However, I became too unwell for them to continue to hold me in their care, and whilst my parents were away, I was transferred into the public hospital against my will. The public treatment is rules-driven, strict, and uncompassionate. Their knowledge about eating disorders is heavily lacking. So whilst all my public hospital admissions have been very difficult, this was undoubtedly the hardest because for the 3 weeks I was there, my parents were in a completely different time zone, barely able to communicate with me and unable to visit me. It was so incredibly lonely, and my self-harm behaviours were the worst they'd ever been. I did that entire admission without them visiting me, my only one completely without them. Reflecting on this time makes me yearn for myself as I remember how much pain and agony I was in. I didn't feel like I had anybody to talk to. But now, I do. This shows that there was stormy weather, but it passed. Everything passes. You just have to stay alive to experience the good parts because they always come.

---

Bullying at Northside

I’ve spent a lot of time in the hospital, Dolls. I’ve seen a lot of other girls and boys who are unwell, I’ve spoken to all types of professionals, and I’ve had an array of different conversations regarding anorexia. But the worst cohort I ever faced was one that bullied me incessantly for the four weeks that I was impatient there. Everybody in the facility knew me from my socials, so before I’d even arrived, they'd made their minds up about me. My unwell body was something that to them indicated flaunting when in fact, I was simply existing. It was a very traumatic time because my parents were overseas, and I wasn’t offered any relief with their reassuring, calming, and loving presence. I merely had to go about my days fully aware that I wasn’t just disliked but hated and targeted. I dreaded every day. I asked to pass every time the therapists did a check in with us about how we were going. I became silent. I felt like I didn't matter. I felt like I was nothing more than the girl with an anorexic identity. I barely got through this time, but I think what did get me through it was when three of the girls who’d been bullying me the most came up to me, ashamed, at the end of their admissions, apologising and saying that they had misjudged me. Although I didn't have the strength to forgive them, I did find the strength to move past that time in my life. It offered me closure. And, dolls, with closure, you can move on.

---

Writing this post made me realise that I’ve been through such difficult times and somehow managed to get through every present day with laughter, family and smiles. It’s beautiful that my challenges and setbacks didn’t break me. And that was possible with the unwavering support of my loved ones. So this post is thereby dedicated to each and every family member and friend who’ve stuck by my side, advocated for and most importantly, loved me.

Kisses,

COS x