Thawing

I think I am...

okay now.


Right?


Sort of.


I still cry.


Quite a bit really.


I will look in the mirror and then turn back 2 minutes later and see something totally different.


Weird.


But...okay.


Some moments I am so scared that I feel I am shattered.


I want to be held. 


Tight.


Keep me together.


When you do and I feel safe it's...


Magic.


But I will never ask.


Anyone.


Because I'm okay now.


Right?


Right?


That's a lie.


There have been days.


Hours.


Times.


Moments when all the sparkle is gone and it's all black and white again and she's screaming.


You're too big.


Out of control.


Fat.


Ugly.


Worthless.


But now I know what to do.


I shout to those who saw me when I almost drowned.


Who dragged me from the depths and created life rafts out of love.


Help.


And they respond. 

Simple words. 

Kind touches. 

They know I'm not just calling for praise and compliments on my body.

They know what happened before.


They know it can't happen again.


They lift me above the waves until the danger has passed.


And then I'm paddling.


And it's okay.


I'm okay now.


Not everyone believes that.


Fair. 

Not quite okay. 

Still a bit of a flight risk. 

Exciting? 

No one likes a boring girl. 

To be fair, I'm keeping my head above at the moment, even as the tempests roar. 

I am...living.


Most of the time.


No longer and empty husk of regret and obsession.


I hold pride in my strength.


Sometimes.


I feel guilty for that pride.


Fat.


Ugly.


Worthless.


Proud of that?


But I can say that I am alive.


I laugh.


A lot.


I dance.


Too much.


I run.


I stop running. 

I lie in the sun and bask in the glory of its warmth. 

I sweat

Gross. 

But it's fucking great. 

I didn't do that before. 

I shivered constantly. 

Goosebumps. 

Cold. 

Toxic. 

Maybe. 

There's part of your legacy. 

But...

I am working on it. 

I just wish it didn't hurt those who try and keep me a light.  

I'm sorry. 

I still feel for the security of my bones. 

But I'm okay. 

Right? 

I think I want to fall in love again. 

With life. 

With me. 

With...

Sometime. 

But for now....

I'm thawing. 

And that's. 

Okay. 

Dear Body.

As I sit in yet another sterile waiting room, waiting to get my thumping heart checked upon, to be once again pricked, more blood taken, I cannot help but wonder...why? I ponder on this a lot, as anyone who knows me will be all too aware, but right now, the question seems to be screaming. I am sitting here, instead of doing the training I love at East15 because my body is rebelling. It is rebelling, because I don't treat it as I should. I don't give it what it needs, I work it beyond its limits and I mentally abuse it constantly. I place all my self value and worth into it, and it will never be enough. A lovely teacher asked me yesterday, when I came over faint and my chest became tight "Maya, what do you see when you look in the mirror?" The honest answer, for all the photoshoots, working out, inspirational quotes, Lycra leggings, insane diets...I don't know what I see. I sure don't see the girl who photographers capture on film. She is a creation of their lens. I don't even see the woman who I will get on my iPhone and later post (followed by suitably annoying hashtags). I don't see the 'superwoman' that some (namely Jake) have described me as. I see something different every damn time. Some moments, I will see something I like, then the next I will notice something that makes me unhappy. A curve that goes a little too far, a nose that is a little too wide, a leg that looks far too big. When I catch sight of one of these things, self hatred will overwhelm me. I will begin mentally calculating how far I must run, how much I must work, what exactly I must eat, how much I can cut out. My body will always spew back a list of numbers, tasks and negative adjectives in the end. And along side all of this I am forever preoccupied that people will think I am arrogant. This is not to say that I am constantly miserable, things are so much happier now and there are people and things in my life that make me feel wonderful. I love that buzz I get from going to the gym, I look back at when I was struggling with 2.5kg weights in the presence of Jay Copley (credit goes to this one, who helped me build the strength I now value so highly and who had to hear my endless ramblings) and I am proud to have built the strength I have. I love dancing around the kitchen and house with Amelia whenever the mood so takes us. I love getting up to go to drama school. I love the human connections I am so much more capable of making, being big sis to Rory, having best friends like Phebe, Thea and Sam who I can chat to endlessly, revelling in stalking photos of #gressontour, calculating the wellness in my meal (Crez, Jake and Rory), I bloody love my job, I value all of these things and so much more in my life, and know that if I let anorexia totally overwhelm me, they will all be gone again, and yet I am treading a fine line and these past few weeks have clearly shown me that. It's quite frightening to be fainting regularly again, to be getting blood test results that are less than ideal, to be seeing consultants, to have people telling me how exhausted I look constantly, to be shaking and to be having heart palpitations. It's even scary to be told that the numbers are going down, although it comes with a certain exhilaration that I cannot deny. I suppose the thing of it is, I have to start making a choice. The choice as to whether I want to start listening to my body and stop pushing it beyond its limitations, or whether I want to see more and more hospital waiting rooms again, and once again start the endless cycle and downwards spiral of misery that anorexia brings, taking me further and further away from the life I'm building and loving. 

Dear Body,
So, I guess first things first, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for making you the enemy whom I waged war and the ground where I fought all my battles.
I’m sorry for always saying you’re not enough.
I’m sorry for pushing you far beyond your limits.
I’m sorry for not letting you rest, even when you hurt.
I’m sorry for damaging you, for the osteoporosis and for still being too scared to eat the foods that will help heal.
I’m sorry for not always feeding you.
I’m sorry for not telling you you’re beautiful.
I’m sorry for using you to measure my value.
I’m sorry for resenting you.
I’m sorry I cannot love you.
I’m sorry for always wanting you to disappear.
But honestly, I do hate you sometimes.
I hate how you’ve grown.
I hate the flesh that covers my bones.
I hate that you let me down.
I hate the curves.
I hate me hips, they’re repugnant.
I hate your need for love.
I hate your need for food.
I hate your need for validation.
I hate that you’re the first thing people see.
I hate that you will not shrink.
I hate that you came between love.
I hate that I only almost destroyed you.
But, don’t get me wrong, I love you for things too.
I love how you keep on fighting.
I love your strength.
I love how some people see you, I wish I could see the same.
So body, my vessel, my enemy, my canvas, my warrior,
One day I will learn to love you and treat you with care,
I just hope you don’t betray me before I find my way there.

Breaking the Taboo?

“We held hands when we walked down the gingerbread path into the forest, blood dripping from our fingers. We danced with witches and kissed monsters. We turned us into wintergirls, when she tried to leave, I pulled her back into the snow because I was afraid to be alone.”

― Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls

Happy Eating Disorders Awareness week! (I’m not entirely sure this is a situation to be granted such a jolly greeting, but I’m going with a positive spin). I’m aiming to write a couple of pieces this week, as well as to do something bloody fantastic and celebratory of our progress with my gorgeous girl Phebe, but, I wanted to start off the week with a little clarification. First off, it’s awareness week and in the spirit of things I want to encourage people to talk about eating disorders. I am a firm believer that part of the reason I was able to get so sick was because no one really knew what to do and thus there were a lot of hushed and concerned whispers. By talking about anorexia and the effect it’s had on my life I feel more powerful, by recognizing and documenting my changes I feel more able to fight and by starting conversations with others about the reality of eating disorders I feel as if I could help. For these reasons, I want to say ASK THE QUESTIONS, APPROACH THAT PERSON YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT because eating disorders are serious, they take lives, a fact which I’ve become all too aware of recently. I feel something that perhaps prevents people from seeking help or even admitting they have an issue is the stigma that an eating disorder holds. I still have a lot of people who I know felt that I starved myself for attention, or that it was due to vanity. Although these assumptions make me angry, I’ve learned to understand that it’s more important to straighten these misconceptions out, as until people realize that eating disorders are not a choice, they will not be given the gravitas they need. Occurrences of eating disorders are on the up and we all need to use opportunities like Eating Disorder Awareness week to combat this surge of devastation.

One of the main misconceptions I’ve encountered was the idea that I decided to be anorexic because I wanted to look good. I wish this were a joke. In reality though, we live in a society where I was asked on more than one occasion whether I’d ever considered modeling/told my body was perfect for it. This was when I can honestly say I was wandering around Chelsea in a haze of starvation fuelled confusion. I was emaciated and my eyes looked empty. I was freezing. I looked haggered and exhausted. My mind was tormented by a daemon so loud that I felt at points that not living would be easier. I can safely say that this was not something I chose due to vanity, there was no beauty in my body or mind. I had one nurse ask me, after being admitted to hospital through accident and emergency whether I “wanted to be like a model?” This was someone who worked in a hospital, a trained professional and she believed this was a choice I made due to vanity. Now, although I laugh over these incidents now, I have to stop and regard them for the serious effect such beliefs have. If people belittle eating disorders to such an extent, make them seem like a ‘silly girls choice’, then how the hell are people meant to feel safe asking for help? The truth is, I’ve not met one person struggling with an eating disorder who loved themselves truly. I did not put myself through the pain of anorexia, through not being able to sleep comfortably because my bones protruded painfully, through hurting so many I love, through missing out on many nights out,,through all the shit anorexia threw at me because I wanted to look good. If anything, it was the opposite. Anorexia served the purpose for me of communicating just how awful I felt, when I was unable to articulate this properly. It made me ugly and I didn’t mind, because I felt ugly. It allowed me to take a break from a life I felt unable to handle, to lie down and surrender to all the pressures. I did not believe I was worthy of food. I did not believe I was good enough for anything really. Anorexia does not happen to the arrogant or the vain. I may have been very good at slapping on my smile and saying I was great, superwoman, that I could get up before school, gym, run, eat nothing, go again, barely sleep, repeat the process day after day. Turns out I’m pretty good at bullshitting (useful for an actor perhaps…) I want you to consider whether someone denying themselves food and water is the sign of someone in love with themselves, or whether, in reality, the denial of basic sustenance is likely to be a sign of the total opposite? It is not ‘natural’ for human’s to slowly commit suicide, but that is what eating disorders are. I would love to not be the idiot who’s preoccupied after ordering a coffee, checking that they DEFINITELY are using skimmed milk to make it. I would love not to be the one unable to attend social events where the food overwhelms. I would do anything to grasp back some of what and who I’ve lost to anorexia, but I can’t. Anorexia stole so much from me and still does. Trivializing it and considering it to be my choice, or me being ‘silly’ makes this all the worse. So please, it being eating disorder awareness week and all, take the time to talk about the issues. Eating Disorders kill more than any other mental illness, they turn someone who was once vivacious and full of life into someone no one would ever recognize. I fight thoughts constantly that I need to lose weight, that I shouldn’t be eating that, that I’m not good enough, that I NEED to exercise more, that I shouldn’t really even sit down. I am in a place where I have the strength and support to fight these blows. Many do not. Should we really be laughing about them?

A couple of weeks ago I was exhausted from battling my head and was honestly in a place where I felt I was disgusting, greedy, weak and worthless. It felt as if anorexia was climbing on top of me again. At this point, I found some photos of me from my first hospital admission. They were taken to remind me of how horrific anorexia is, for moments just like the one I was experiencing. I never look at them, but I knew I needed to. I can honestly say that although my frail state was shocking and upsetting, what really frightened both me, Sam and Thea (whom I shared my feelings and the images with), was the hollow look in my eyes. I look empty and so sad, as well as the fact that this was not even the worst of it. I cannot understand how I was still going. For months prior to this I’d been working to convince everyone around me that I was “absolutely fine” I’d even convinced myself of this. I felt I should be fine. I was lucky. I was living in my lovely family home in West London, I’d graduated from my high achieving all girls school, people told me I was beautiful, I had a wonderful boyfriend, I had incredible friends. I suspect it was part of what I call the ‘Wisteria Lane’ complex that led me to anorexia. Everything must look perfect and pristine from the outside. No one can know that actually things aren’t great. Just because SOME aspects of my life were bloody amazing, just because I was very lucky in MANY aspects, doesn’t mean that things were ok. I made myself numb to cope with being unable to cope with the harder aspects of life and to communicate that things weren’t ok. If we want to start combating Eating disorders, we have to start feeling less ashamed of struggling, to be able to say if we’re sad, to remove the stigma of vanity, silly girls and an extreme diet that surrounds eating disorders. I’ve included below some of the writing I did whilst in hospital and the photos that were taken during my first admission. Sharing these is painful and something I am only doing to try and make people consider…is this really something anyone would portray as beautiful? Is the girl on the left something I’d aspire to? How can I still have moments where I think I need to be like that? How can I still be anxious that peoples opinions of these photos will not be "Holy crap, you looked horrific and so so unwell", but instead "You really should lose some weight you greedy thing, where's your self control?" Or think i'm vain. I can see that it was hideous, but it served a purpose. I need those who think anorexia was a choice I made, that eating disorders are trivial, that we are just hysterical fools to consider how bad someone must feel to do this to themselves and reconsider their perception of Eating disorders. Talk about it, use Eating Disorder awareness week to discuss these issues. I am more than willing to answer any questions via comment on here or email:

maya@thedragonflyfoundation.co.uk

Happy Monday xxx

The sudden comprehension that you are not in control. You are its ship, once strong and fearless and headed for new and beautiful lands, now delicate and beaten. No more voyages for you my friend. The captain has driven you through too many dangerous seas for such a fragile vessel. Keep going and together you will be sunk. Dilapidated.

There is no glamour once you are here. You are a we. One of a pair. Controlled by another. She befriends you slyly, like any good friend makes you feel you can trust her, makes you feel safe. Then convinces you she can make things better. You believe your beautiful heroine. Feeding off the pain of starvation she thrives, while you empty. Hollow. ‘Organs, muscles and bones’ the nice doctor says, ‘that’s all that’s left’. By this stage it’s too late for me. I have been snared. She is feasting on the heart that was once strong enough to love so many fiercely, the muscles I need to run away and the bones that are my ironic trophy, on display for all to see. I let her gorge as I wither. No choice anymore. That was the first thing she stole when she caught me. Freedom.

Are we breeding a disordered nation?

I would sing in front of a theatre full of people, bungee jump, audition in front of a panel, but put a plate with fish and chips in front of me and I will be left quaking, unable to face the meal. It makes me angry to think about it, I do not like to appear weak, but that is the reality of my life and recently, I've been realising more and more how it is becoming easier to live with an eating disorder in today's society. It is no longer totally abnormal to ask a waiter whether oil is used whilst cooking my meal, to refuse a coffee if they don't have skimmed milk, to live off a no carb diet. I hear people make statements that leave me to reply "you sound like me". Friends saying "oh god, I really can't eat that", telling me they're cutting out dairy, carbs, gluten. Asking me about my diet. The last one is the worst. Although I am in a far better place than I was (I mean, I actually eat, so that's a plus), I wouldn't recommend my diet to others. It's a work in progress, I hope that one day I will be able to eat without omitting certain foods and sticking only to my safe foods. All over Instagram, Twitter, magazines and newspapers we are bombarded by images of 'healthy' meals, people discussing their fasts, images of rippling abs and tight, toned asses. I don't omit myself from the craze. I spam Instagram with photos of myself in gym gear and #fitfam hashtags. I am proud of my stronger body, but I also recognise that I do not lead a totally balanced life. My relationship to food, my body and exercise is still disordered and is disconcertingly entangled with my stress levels, moods and feelings of self worth. I wonder, is this the same for the thousands who make similar posts? They do not all receive the support I do, they do not see a weekly therapist and have their weight monitored. I recognise that not all of them need to, but I do think that when missing a day at the gym leads to you being engulfed with guilt, or you count calories obsessively and feel appalled by the idea of eating certain things, this is not a 'healthy lifestyle'. This is disordered.




I recently read about someone who was struggling with binges on a certain food group being advised to simply cut the group out entirely for a week. Now, I do not claim to be an expert, but given the amount of dietetic work I've done, plus the nutritional research and therapy I've had, I know enough to be aware that if someone is struggling with bingeing on something it is in general because their body is crying out for something it is missing. Cutting it out won't help rectify this issue, in fact, making it even more of a 'banned food' is likely to make the issue worse. I was really upset to read the advice that was being preached, having had the opposite information drilled into me by dieticians, doctors and other medical professionals. Half of me wanted to rip into the person posting and tell them to go to someone medically certified for such advice. I could be wrong in my assertions, but I didn't think they'd be told the same. Instead, I clicked 'unfollow'. It saddened me that people would post such things without thinking of the consequences and effect their words could have. You have thousands of people reading your words, you are in a position of responsibility. I try hard to remind those who get an insight into my life, whether it be via social media or face to face, that my lifestyle is a work in progress. I'm working towards balance. I try not to preach. Lifting weights works for me and is beneficial, for others it may not. My therapist and I were discussing how easy it is for me these days to just appear to be one of the many 'super healthy' people running around. Holy shit, that's terrifying. If people's goal 'healthy' lifestyles are similar to that of someone working to recover from severe anorexia, then something is rotten (in the state of Denmark 😂). Don't get me wrong, I love healthy eating and believe in the power of exercise, but I also believe and have great admiration for those who keep it balanced. Who recognise that the slice of cake won't mean the end of the world. Who don't deny themselves a much needed rest. I always joke to my friends that I'd LOVE to be the girl who goes out on a date and orders a massive steak (I don't actually like steak, but shhh), I've been told theirs nothing sexier. I've pushed myself, it's true. I've eaten 8 course meals. I drink again, but I've noticed my ordering a salad with dressing on the side is once again becoming a trait people admire. I'm not saying the whole world is becoming anorexic, but I am urging people to be mindful of their relationships to food, exercise and their bodies. Eating disorders are not caused by society alone (read previous posts for my ramblings on the topic), but society does play a part. My fear is that we are putting extreme diets under the caption "healthy eating". We are listing "bad foods and good foods" in a way that is disordered. We are starting to guilt trip ourselves for a day of rest. We are forgetting to listen to our bodies. Work out, eat healthily and post about it on Instagram, I will, but also try and keep some balance. Be aware that social media is not always totally honest and that those posting are not always totally in the know. Workout because you love your body, not because you hate it. If you feel you are going to the gym because you feel you have to, not because you actually want to, try a new kind of workout or talk to someone about your guilt. I genuinely love the exercise I do these days, they're hard, but I don't drag myself there or see it as a punishment. I do struggle with feelings of guilt when I don't go though, and this is something I need to work on. Eat healthily for you and in a balanced manner. Don't choose the fad diets and cut out entire food groups without proper medical advice. And guys, don't emulate the lifestyle of someone recovering from anorexia, I will be in a good enough place one day to say "hell yeah, I'm balanced and brilliant", but if your intake and thoughts are similar to mine, there's something not right! I can tell you that now. Orthorexia is becoming a more and more prevalent issue in society and I think we need to be aware of it. The rabbit hole of crazy is not a fun place to fall. Be healthy, be happy. Don't be overtaken. Oh, and hug more. Do you know how many great chemicals hugging releases?! My goal: a life filled with balance and spooning. The dream.

A Whimsical Musing

I don't know you, 
But I recognise that hollowed look in your eyes 
Even if I were unable to see your devastated body sitting below that head full of torment, I would know. 
There's a painful fragility in your face 
You exude terror 
Life seems over whelming. 
I get it. 
I feel it too. 
Some days, I wish I were as close to disappearing again.  
I look down and examine the flesh that covers my bones with disdain. 
So I know. 
Not exactly. 
No one can ever know exactly, and that's important. 
I know some. 
I want to hold out my hands, now warm and take yours. 
I want to tell you 'it gets better' 
I'm sure you hear that a lot.
You probably think they're wrong. 
But better doesn't mean perfect. 
You will still have days you feel out of control. 
You will wish you had your protruding bones as medals of dedication. 
But those days will lessen.
You will have times you laugh so hard your belly hurts. 
Where you eat and enjoy.
An unexpected smile will catch you off guard. 
You will be desirable again. 
You will feel lust again. 
It won't always go your way. 
And navigating your way through all these emotions is one hell of a journey. 
But, my friend, embrace the adventure. 
Spin through the confusion and learn to dance in the midst of it. 
Appreciate the mess, for without it, where would we be? 
It won't always feel safe.
I still struggle everyday and I don't know whether this will change. 
I can't make any promises. 
But at least I am fighting. 
I'm done with taking the punches. 
I'm weaving my dreams into something real. 
And it's not perfect. 
But it's beautiful. 
Join me sometimes, 
But please don't wait to 'feel ready'. 
I'll tell you a secret, you never will. 
Just dive. 
And start to swim. 

Dragonfly, Gatsby And love and strength to those struggling

I've dipped my toes in the pool of death and come close to slipping in. I've watched the waters ripple beneath me and considered that actually, they may be soothing in comparison to the burning abuse my head liked to throw at me. I've taken my body to the brink and starved it into such emaciation that even lying in bed was painful. I feel slightly as if I've robbed myself of 5 years of life, I shuffled through, avoiding the blurred edges, reality seemed distant. I've been rushed to a&e in the middle of the night, I've spent months on hospital wards, I've spent more hours than I care to consider crying over what I saw as my fat and ugly self. Now I see the same in those I have met upon my journey. I see wonderful young men and women, who I've not only cried over a muller corner in front of, but also laughed hysterically along side. Those who have so much to give to this World, who are vivacious and bright, but who are held back by anorexia and I cannot help but question, why? I've fought hard to get to where I am, I've been dragged through by those who love me. Still though I am riddled with self doubt. Outwardly and to those who only perhaps know me from a far, through social media or just as acquaintances, I am a confident young woman. Some times I am. It's true. And I'm happy to admit that. There's a dangerous trend in society to not embrace and be proud of the aspects of ourselves that are good, we are more than happy to slag ourselves off, but outwardly saying "I'm quite happy with what I've achieved?!" GOD FORBID. Truthfully, I only feel this pride around 5% of the time. A lot of the time, I am still consumed by self doubt and criticism. I get anxious before parties. I second guess my actions. I drive those close to me insane if I'm interested in a guy or considering auditioning for something with my go to response to them saying "just go for it you fucking idiot"..."but, I can't". "WHY?!" They will say. (Sam feels particular despair over this). "Because they will probably think I'm weird and laugh at me". Fear of rejection I suppose. Fear of not being enough. The assumption that I cannot actually be attractive. Now, these are not characteristics I will only attribute to those who have at some stage struggled with anorexia or another eating disorder. I suspect they are emotions most people struggle with, but from what I've observed, the feeling of not being enough is something that is particularly prominent in those with anorexia. It's a great irony really, as society often views it as an illness of vain silly girls, when in reality, no one who felt good about themselves and believed they were wonderful would starve themselves to near death. It takes a lot of negative energy and bad thoughts to get into such a state, I'm telling you. We are often good at covering that, I know I was always very good at smiling and saying it was all fine. Before I admitted there was a problem, whenever I was questioned I'd simply say the weight was "falling off me". Those close to me knew there was something very wrong, but even my own mother said it was difficult to know what to do as I became so distant that she herself thought perhaps I was embarrassed of her. This couldn't have been further from the truth. I was prickly because I was ashamed of myself. I was distant because I was consumed by self hatred and the driving desire to lose more weight. My heart hurts to see those I've known back in hospital, hurting themselves, so very unwell. It makes me sad for many reasons, but one of the main ones is that I know the mental trauma their brains are dishing out. I know they are engulfed by beliefs that they don't matter, that they're ugly, that no one likes them, that it would be better if they just disappeared. I don't understand it. Why do we feel like this? What drives us to yearn to disappear. Why is it we choose this medium of torture? It's all important. No one really knows. Anorexia and eating disorders are in reality, quite unknown entities. We know that starvation makes us crazier, but there's not really any direct idea of how to treat it. There are lots of different strands of thought. Anorexia is still the biggest killer among mental illness. This terrifies me. I laugh at the crazy things I've done over the past few years, but I'm lucky to be able to laugh. It is for this reason that I've chosen "Charlottes Helix" as the beneficiary for my trust "The Dragonfly Foundations" first event. Charlottes Helix is working to crack the DNA code of anorexia in the hope that a further understanding will help us understand and be better placed to treat and prevent eating disorders. Through this all I've tried to understand. I've met doctors, models, social workers, mothers, brothers, a whole host of people from all walks of life with eating disorders. Those who appear to have everything going for them, who are intelligent, compassionate, beautiful, sometimes all of the above, and they are riddled with self hatred and slowly and painfully committing suicide. It's a mystery to me. This research could change some of that. And it's vital. There is currently no government funding so our donation will really make a difference. As well as this, id really like Dragonflies first event to be a fucking great celebration of life. Expect a good party. So, what's the deal? I'm not asking you to just hand over your money. I'm asking you to grab a ticket, get dressed so you look ready for a 20s cocktail party and head to our speakeasy to dance and drink all in aid of a fantastic cause. We have a brilliant 8 piece band and DJ due to our exciting collaboration with Itchy Feet to bring the night together. http://www.edgehillgroup.uk/#!house-band/c1ak8

It's a no brainer really, a great party AND its all for a great cause. Tickets are now on sale, for our initial release price of £35. This is soon to go up to £40, so get in there quick using the link below. Can't wait to see you there. Let's have a great night and do a great thing 

Maya xxx

Ticket Link: 

https://www.ticketea.co.uk/entradas-dragonflyfundraiser/

The Blame Game

For many people struggling with an eating disorder, the culture of blame surrounding their illness is something they and their loved ones will be all too familiar with. We blame ourselves, our families blame themselves, our friends blame themselves, we blame the thin-is-in culture, we blame that kid at school who called us fat. Anyone and anything that could've had an effect gets the finger pointed. But how much of the development of an eating disorder can actually be hung on these factors and how much of it is down to genetics? 

Introducing Catherine. Catherine is 16. She often gives away food. Upon being confronted by her concerned and disgruntled friends and family, Catherine explains that she is fine as she is. In fact, she is doing God's work. Catherine is Catholic. Her diet quickly becomes more and more restricted. Quickly all she is surviving on are the meagre amounts of bread and water she accepts at communion. She explains that she cannot eat more and that her ability to eat so little comes as a gift from God. In fact, it also makes her feel closer to God. Catherine loses the use of her legs in her 20s. She is so weak and in so much pain, she begs god for relief and to be allowed to eat. She is still not able. At the age of 33, after 17 years of starvation and in agony, Catherine dies. So, who is Catherine? She may sound familiar, her story is one that many would've heard in the media or in connection to a loved one with am eating disorder, although her reasoning is not one we often hear today. This is the story of Saint Catherine of Siena, who died in 1380. 

A young woman starving herself, denying she had an issue, eventually desperate to be relieved of her torment but unable to find a way out. Sound familiar? I would argue That environmentally, Catherine and I are at opposite ends of the spectrum. I do not practice any religion, unlike Catherine, I live in a culture where being thin is regarded as beautiful (in popular culture at least), I have access to education and a whole host of opportunities. Our surroundings could not be more different, yet our symptoms undeniably similar. I whittled my diet down to a ridiculously limited and tiny amount. I denied it being an issue. Starvation gave me a sense of controls and serenity. I oscillated from being high as a kite from the endorphins of starvation and able to run miles in a slightly manic way, to sheer exhaustion where my entire body ached so much I felt unable to walk. Our symptoms can be connected in so many ways, parallels of madness and distress drawn, so what does this mean? Well, in my opinion it gives heed to the notion that anorexia is not just a sociocultural illness, rather, there's a lot more going on. Anorexia has appeared time and time again in different cultures and times. Granted it is more prevalent in some, but surely we cannot blame culture alone? The answer, genes my friend, DNA. There is progressively more and more research charting the biological in the development of anorexia, to identify the genes that pre-dispose some to the illness and hopefully help combat anorexia. This could mean innovations in medication (at present, there is no proven medication for anorexia), it could also help with prevention. If the genes were identified early on, a closer eye could be kept on those who were predisposed to the illness. You may be asking whether I am trying to argue that environment has nothing to do with the development of an eating disorder? No, that's not it at all, what I'm suggesting is that it's not simply one or the other. As professor Janet Treasure so aptly put it "the genes load the gun, but the environment pulls the trigger". There's a reason that when my friends diet or are hungry, they become irritable, lethargic and prickly, yet when I am underfed, I become slightly more euphoric and in my own little dream world. The buzz those pre-disposed get to an eating disorder is addictive, where as most people experience discomfort. I'm not saying it's all sunshine and roses when I'm starving, hell no, what I'm saying is that my experience is different and something that I'm naturally more drawn too. I find all of this new research and information incredibly interesting and actually quite comforting. Since the beginning of my illness, I've felt immeasurable guilt, I'd hate the fact that I couldn't "just eat". Indeed, even those close to me would ask why I just couldn't. I felt stupid, concerned people thought I just wanted attention, that I was choosing this, when all I really wanted was to be lift alone to shrink away and starve. The guilt I felt as my parents, brother, friends, boyfriend, cried over my rapid deterioration was a pain beyond that of my protruding bones and clawing stomach and I didn't understand. If it really were as shallow and self indulgent as just wanting to look like a model (as is often suggested), then why couldn't I just give up this ridiculous notion and eat?! The theory and solid proof that, like any other illness, my DNA plays a huge part in it, helps alleviate some of the guilt. My hope is that as more and more research is done and we gain a better understanding of the disease, we will be better able to combat anorexia's claws and some of the 'stupid girls who won't eat' stigma will be gone. For all those who do feel that way, I challenge you to sit ten minutes with someone in the throws of anorexia as they try to eat. My friends and family will vividly describe my tears, physical shaking, sobbing and clear horror over meagre amounts of food. Never did they see a casual 'ah, no thanks, I'm watching my weight'. Being forced to eat was a torture for me. I feel proud to speak of such experiences in the past tense. Things are not perfect, but I have made huge strides away from that shadow girl. Only today, upon seeing a old and long time friend and being told I look good again, I was once again struck by my change in outlook. My brain did not go into total overdrive telling me he meant fat, he actually admitted to worrying that's how I'd react, but instead, I was happy to be closer to my normal self. Able to chat away, eat with friends, travel to visit and generally just have the ability to be myself again. Thea poignantly told me the other day, as she sat and cried after seeing my show, that she was "just so proud and happy". She said she was happy to not get a feeling of utter terror when she received a call from an unknown number these days that it was someone calling to tell her my heart had given up. That is the truth of what anorexia does. I do not plan to be like saint Catherine of Siena, I plan to continue living and enjoying my charmed and rather ridiculous life, filled with acting, musical theatre, tequila (Sam Burnard), cocktails and champagne (Thea), cheerleading, fitness, baking and the all important FOOD. I also plan to help others do the same. I'm meeting one of my fellow dragonfly girls over lunch tomorrow to plan and discuss, but as things stand, we have some updates:

Dragonfly are currently supporting 2 charities: The Succeed Foundation and Charlotte's Helix. I've previously explained Succeed's fantastic work, but Charlotte's Helix is a far newer addition to Dragonflies support network, so I'm going to go into a little more depth. Charlottes Helix are trying to carry out more research in to the role of genes and DNA in eating disorders, basically everything I've been speaking about in this post. As well as fundraising (more info firer down), I also want to ask for assistance for Charlottes Helix from all those who read this who themselves are suffering or have suffered from anorexia at some point in their lives to send off a sample of their DNA to them. They're trying to reach 1000 samples, something that should be easily achievable. It's painless to do and could really help with groundbreaking research. The link is as follows, take some time and just do it if you can! 

Right, so now on to our fundraising plans for both of these amazing charities. We have 2 major plans this summer coming up that fall into this category. The first is (fingers crossed) a fun evening of food, drink, dancing and debouch, with all we can raise going to these 2 amazing charities, helping them to do their great work in preventing eating disorders. We're in the final planning stages of this, so I can't release TOO much info, but either the first or second weekend in September are ones to keep free, you don't want to miss out, we have wonderful things planned and all for a good cause too! 

The second plan is....a tough mudder. Yes, you have read that right. I am planning to get covered in mud, jump over barbed wire, get soaked and generally put myself through a whole array of hell that anyone who knows me will understand is going to be a sight to see. But hey, I'm just happy and proud that my bots is now strong enough to do it. It's not something I can really do alone (how would I get over the barbed wire without a boost?!) so calling anyone interested, strong and supportive (in good health guys), who is interested in being part of the dragonfly team, get in contact via Facebook or email: thedragonflyfoundation1@gmail.com. Your support really would be much appreciated. Sponsorship details will also soon follow, to all those not quite up to the challenge, but taken by the hilarious notion of the girl who loves glitter rolling around in mud! 

I may actually have further updates tomorrow following lunch with the lovely Beth, but for now, after a long ramble, keep your eyes peeled. As always, support would be greatly appreciated. Right now, I'm really really keen to recruit help from: 

A. Someone good with money- planning an event is REALLY bloody hard, especially one where you want to raise money for a charity, having someone on our team to act as treasurer would be greatly appreciated. You need to be trustworthy and know about money (not just how to spend it on pretty table decorations, quite the opposite in fact). If interested, Facebook or email is the one again. It really wouldn't take much time and being part of a charitable trust will look great to employers etc. 

B. People good at event organising. Again, it's hard work, I'm very lucky to have a fab support network as always, but those willing to muck in and help out would be again, appreciated. Please whack over an email or Facebook message me if you're interested. 

Always interested in any other helpful offers, so keep in touch. 

Thanks as always xxx

Email: thedragonflyfoundation1@gmail.com 

Projects we are supporting: http://www.charlotteshelix.net (please send samples!!) and http://www.succeedfoundation.org

Helping out may also result in being serenaded by a group of Godspell actors, or cheered on by a team of Cheerios. Who knows where it could lead you?!