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?! 

A Confession, Gushing Ramble of Love and Some Rogue Lord of the Rings Referencing…

“There is no magic cure, no making it all go away forever. There are only small steps upward; an easier day, an unexpected laugh, a mirror that doesn't matter anymore.”
― Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls

I really hate admitting when things aren’t quite perfect, when I’m feeling a little low, when I doubt my decisions. I’d much rather put on my shiny façade and float around as if everything’s ok. The problem with this method is that it’s not conducive to any sort of real happiness and it’s incredibly unhealthy. So, here is a confession: Today I feel like shit.

It’s been a little up and down this week, I’ve oscillated between feeling proud of my strength and embracing the changes I’ve made. I’ve been hyper aware of the positive effects these are bringing into my life and I’ve been happy about the choices this hard work has given me. Along side that though, I’ve also had the notion of being ‘too big’, of taking up too much room, of looking slightly grotesque, of being fat. It’s bizarre, I can look at myself in the dance studio mirrors one moment and go “yep, I’ve finally got some sort of an ass” and then the next be agonizing over some small curve I’m not quite happy with. I will let these feelings fester and grow and then, in general, I will crack. I had one such ‘crack’ this week, this resulted in my sobbing to poor old Sam for over an hour, shaking and every now and then struggling with breathing. ‘Ridiculous’, you must be thinking, to sob over something so trivial, to hyperventilate at the prospect of being fat, but anyone who has followed my writing or knows about anorexia to any extent will know that I did not starve myself to be thin. Starvation and emaciation represent many different things to someone with anorexia. The cage of bones that I built myself felt as if it were keeping all of the bad guys out for quite a while, trouble was, it was keeping the good out as well. I was numb, floating on the euphoria of starvation every now and again until I crashed and sunk into the deepest pits of misery. Anyway, I digress from my confession (avoiding difficult conversations such as: “Maya, have you eaten today?” is something I became incredibly adept at, old habits die hard!) So, back to feeling like shit. As I sat sobbing away to Sam and curled myself up into a little ball that represents quintessential crazy the World over I suddenly thought “Oh God, is this a relapse?!” Half of me was enthralled by the idea of shrinking away again and the other was absolutely horrified. The prospect of hospitals and devastation, of having to put a halt to my actor training, of bloody well having to abandon all my dragonfly plans and put up a sign saying “Sorry, my time is once again taken up by starving myself” seemed abhorrent. I was torn, as much as I’d have loved to get on the scales and see those iddy biddy numbers, the effort and shit it puts everyone through just did not seem worth it. Sam was quite rational with it all, he made me laugh, told me I am not fat and actually need to gain more weight and then also told me that I had to eat lunch. Then he sat with me as I did and ate some of the mozzarella from my salad when I announced I was full and he agreed I’d made a valiant effort. (Sam can eat mozzarella by the ball, its very odd). As we went back into our separate rehearsals, he turned to me and said “Anyway Maya, you can’t disappear again, I don’t know what I’d do without you!” With that simple statement, he hit the nail on the head of how I must get through the trickier days. On the days I’m not able to recognize my values as a single entity, I must recognize what I bring to other people’s lives and how they need me to keep on being strong. As much as I want to shake Sam some days with his constant drama off stage, I also love the fact that he trusts me to give him sound advice, just this morning I received a text that simply read “Fuck me, You were right” (Obviously I quipped that this is something he should just take to be a given). I’ve got a lot to do and give and being emaciated incapacitates all of this. I tried to kid myself otherwise for a long time, to convince all of the Health Care Professionals that I was basically wonder woman, that my brain still worked at full capacity even when starved and I could absolutely manage fine as I was. Utter bullshit. Even if my body could put up with the torture I put it through (it couldn’t), my brain sure couldn’t, I don’t know how I could have expected it to, the average brain needs somewhere in the region of 500cals a day to run, and that is if you are not stretching it and attempting and sort of mental gymnastics. There is a reason we get irrational and bizarre when we haven’t eaten enough. My body is getting stronger and although at times it feels wrong and I just want to shrink away again, the memory of what that really is needs to be hammered home. 

  

I’m lucky to have an incredibly supportive group of friends who I can call upon for help, I can send an ‘SOS, my brain is fucking with me again’ type message and get phone calls, texts, dancing and tequila in return. I can get reminders of how much more fun I’m having in a heart-beat. I get a big hug and photos and I get a very firm “don’t you fucking dare start on that downward trajectory again”. I’ve said it before and I will say it again, because it’s important. Without my friends, I would be lost. I don’t always communicate that well and I know I have been guilty of running around London, Cambridge, wherever, trying to get a million things done and seriously neglecting my friendships. This is not ok in any shape or form. So, here is some gushing. It is the friends who stand by you even when you are behaving atrociously, when you stop being fun and are quite literally disappearing in front of their eyes that are the ones I hope to have with me for a life-time. Without them, I do not know where I’d be. The fact that even now, after having dealt with years of crazy, they can still be relied upon to rise to any cry for help is astonishing. I sent my SOS this week and got an array of different responses all of which I needed and appreciated.

Poor old Thea has had to deal with many moans and they just keep on coming (this morning was one of my best Doors, waist to boob ratio-the struggle is real), but at the point I was feeling really quite rubbish, I spoke to the person I trust more than anyone in this World. We exchanged nothing profound, we spoke about summer plans, work and boys. To many this may seem to be pretty inane conversation, but to me, it meant the World. It was a sign of things getting back to being ‘ok’. I am no longer calling Thea to sob over a conviction that I had a bigger slice of cake than everyone else in hospital, or to tell her of a depressing blood test result. We have the normal conversations we’ve shared for well over a decade and we laugh over the details of our debauchery. It has been a long time since we’ve been able to do this and it’s helped me realize that I’ve wasted a LOT of time, I’ve been sad, scared, freezing and angry for a very long time and on the days where progress seems too much, it’s my friend’s who remind me that I’ve got a LOT of life to catch up on. So, I guess this post is a couple of things, it is both a confession of imperfection and a thank you to those I love and who have loved me through it all, an apology for being a little shit a lot of the time and a reminder to those who are struggling themselves that you should ask for help. It’s not easy, some days I feel as if I’m fighting an army of 1000 orcs (having a bit of a Lord of the Rings geek fest atm, go with it), but the most important thing to do on these days is to ask for help, don’t let your brain run away with you. I’ve learned people really appreciate it if you confide, I always felt as if I were a burden, but it worries people more if you don’t communicate, people can sense misery, especially those who know you well. SOS when it’s needed, after all, where would Frodo have been without all those pals around him?! (Yep, that just happened…). Here’s to a summer of travel, drama (both on and off stage), parties, training, dragonfly and the usual frolics, no more summers on an EDU. Thanks, but no thanks, I’d far rather go live up to the nick name of ‘trouble’ (thanks Alex Vent) that I was graced with before all this began!

Repairing Myself

Progress doesn’t always feel good, it doesn’t always feel as if you’re moving forward, in fact a lot of the time it feels as if you’re giving up on the thing that you are best at. It even feels as though you’re banishing your closest friend and loyal ally. But at those moments I stop, I take a breath and I think. I think about what my friends really look like. I think of all that I’m working for now and other talents I’m discovering. I think about how much I want to do in my life and remember that starvation and anorexia are not compatible with any of these desires. It’s bizarre really, because my brain can truly make me believe that if I just skip that meal, just lost that bit more weight, things would be better, I’d be happier, the World would be a better place. And I know it’s not true, I have clear evidence in front of me, behind me, surrounding me, but I still buy into it sometimes. It’s hard not to, brain chemistry is a funny thing. Through all of this though, I am stronger, I’m becoming proud of my gains (as anyone who follows me on instagram or facebook will know, sorry about that!) I’m seeing it as not only weight, but life, strength, experience, courage, all of these things. I’m trying to treat myself as I would my niece, allowing for mistakes, trips, struggles, comforting and indulging through moments of distress. I’m doing what I love and I’m fucking enjoying it. Exercise has once again become a joy. I’m not constantly bombarded by the demands of a drill sergeant, demanding I do more, I’m doing what I enjoy and what feels right. It’s making me proud of my physical strength, something that I know I cannot have if I do not eat. I’m dancing again, and although this in itself causes many problems (my perfectionist tendencies are still rampant and struggling with something I used to love it hard), but instead of beating myself up and fixating on it as I once would have, I’m trying to recognize that I’ve been too exhausted and weak to walk in recent memory, an imperfect leg extension is not the end of the World. I’m setting my own challenges that are conducive to health, as oppose to being self-destructive. I don’t feel so proud of my anorexic medals of honor any longer. I don’t feel desperate to wear my bones as prizes on my chest. I recognized a monumental change in myself recently when one of one of my newer, but so adored friend’s Sam told me I was looking hot. Instead of freaking out, crying on him and taking it to mean “you’re looking fat”, or just plastering a fake smile on my face and saying thank you, I gave a genuine grin of pleasure. I’m embracing being a girl (I should say woman, but I just feel weird saying that…cue Britney Spears). I’m posting shameless (I say shameless, but in reality I worry people are thinking ‘shut up you vain and vacuous idiot’ or ‘oh lord, Maya got FAT’) photos of my body in the moments I’m happy with it and proud of it. Don’t get me wrong, this is not all the time. A lot of the time I agonize over being too big, disgusting, you know the score.

BUT at these times, I try and surround myself with positive energy and remember the pride I felt in those photos and know that nothing’s changed since ten minutes ago. I’ve been dating again (anorexia numbs all desire, so getting that back has been a lot of fun).

I’m really trying not to let anorexia be an excuse, if people ask me to do something, I’m trying to not say “I’m anorexia, I can’t”, I went to an 8 course dinner the other day. All of my friends thought I was mad, hell, I thought I was mad, but instead of backing out I spoke to Thea (whose words of wisdom I value above any) and she told me I could. She’s loved me through it all, even when I’ve been totally unlovable, she tells me when I’m wrong, or being stupid, she laughed when I ran away to Barcelona and recognized my rebellion to be better than me passively allowing anorexia to win (she also told me I was a fucking idiot to run away from hospital), so when she told me I could, I believed her. And I did it and nothing bad happened, I didn’t wake up the next morning the elephantine woman, I was just the same, but proud. Thea was prouder.

“Another page turns on the calendar, April now, not March.

.........

I am spinning the silk threads of my story, weaving the fabric of my world...I spun out of control. Eating was hard. Breathing was hard. Living was hardest.

I wanted to swallow the bitter seeds of forgetfulness...Somehow, I dragged myself out of the dark and asked for help.

I spin and weave and knit my words and visions until a life starts to take shape.

There is no magic cure, no making it all go away forever. There are only small steps upward; an easier day, an unexpected laugh, a mirror that doesn't matter anymore.

I am thawing.” –Laurie Anderson

I am no longer quite so cold, I am no longer numb, I am allowing myself to experience true happiness again, but also pain. I’m accepting that’s life, things go wrong, there are days that are shit, but you need them to recognize the moments of euphoria. A rejection or an imperfect audition is not a reason to starve myself, if anything, it’s a reason to keep going, you need strength to prove people wrong. Acting is probably the least straight forward, predictable path I could’ve chosen, I’m gonna have to get used to not succeeding, to someone else getting my part, but there will be times I get that one I really wanted. (I hope!) I still have a long way to go, Im not healed, far from, and although I feel I’ve gained enough, I’m told that’s anorexia’s opinion. I’m trying to trust those I love when they tell me I’m not yet healthy and I’ve got to keep on going, it’s hard, it’s a work in progress, but most the good things are.

(I've punctuated this post with photos of my progress and where things are now, i've had a few people contact me because of my lack of blogging, just to see if i'm ok etc and asking for an update, I will continue to blog, but to follow via instagram for annoying inspirational quotes, photos of what i'm up to etc just whack in @maya.pillay

Dragonfly info will also follow this shortly as thats a whole other bundle of excitement for me right now!)

This time a year ago...

I'm sorry, I'm a musical theatre student these days and couldn't resist...

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” Questionable from Marilyn Monroe

It's a funny thing to consider where I was this time last year. Not really funny haha, because, well, I was bloody miserable, but more…funny, bizarre. I suspect it's even more bizarre for those I am currently lucky enough to be surrounded by here at Drama School in Cambridge, especially when I make the rather odd jokes about anorexia that have become part of my daily norm and that most who know me very well and have had to deal with my peculiar ways for years, are used to. Referring to 'Gone Girl' recently, I quipped "although I did read it when I was in the crazy house and slightly preoccupied with doing star jumps and step ups in my room, so maybe that why I didn't get all the hype, I wasn't really able to focus. The girl I was speaking to looked to me in slight horror and then sort of…patter me. I looked at her hand confused, then, suddenly understanding why she was feeling sorry for me, was overcome with embarrassment. This was not what I had intended in the slightest, but I could not hold her pity against her, because, I guess that it all sounds pretty extreme if you're hearing about it for the first time. I forget about how my openness is not typical. It was probably one of the biggest initial struggles I had when starting at Drama School, how to handle anorexia, to tell or not to tell….that was the question. I 'came out'. It became kinda necessary. My teachers all knew and had been marvellous about it from the beginning, and when it became apparent that with all the dancing and general energy output was becoming a little tough for me, as was the short amount of time allotted for meals (it still takes me a long time to eat and digestion is slow, so I often feel a bit ill or in pain after food), we came to an agreement to manage things better, with a slightly reduced timetable. Now, Maya who wants to push herself to the limit finds this very difficult to tolerate, especially as I'm now not meant to do the vigorous morning workouts that everyone else does. (Crazy part of brain has very strong views about this, but I just have to keep the part telling me I'm lazy/slobbish/fat in it's corner). I also don't do all the dance lessons, which makes even the sanest corner of my brain sad, as dancing again was incredibly fun and made me smile. The understanding from my teachers though and a practical solution quickly being reached was a God send. I'm just determined to show them that i'm worth the effort. Anorexia is still definitely my roommate here at uni and this definitely holds me back, but I had a wonderful realisation a few days ago (hence the wicked reference above)…I am the happiest I can remember being. At this point, I considered my mood last year, as well as where I was. All of these epiphanies happened around halloween, which was handy, as I could really chart what I was doing…

Last year I was carving pumpkins at Vincent Square, I had no leave. I remember going into pumpkin carving and really struggling with being in the group. I'd promised that i'd try and go to groups and I actually quite liked the idea of pumpkin carving, but the fact that it meant I was not exercising really messed with my head. I remember squatting on the ground, not sitting, sitting was NOT ok. If I sat, I really would be lazy. I had to squat so as to reach the pumpkin. I stayed for most of the group, but rushed my pumpkin towards the end and then left, so as to get back to my room and return to my rigorous regime. But before leaving, in homage to my natural love of glitter…I made my pumpkin pretty.

Although it was fun, I do remember feeling like a toddler again, doing arts and crafts. Later that night we decided to watch a whole load of horror films. We had a few to choose from. This was probably the only reason I don't totally regret the illness…the friends I made during my hospitalisations, as well as the loyalty all of my friends showed. Anyway, I said id come back to watch the films a bit later. I went back to my room to resume my exercises. Upon returning to everyone else, like a little baby, I fell asleep on 'my beanbag' in the corner. I'd truly exhausted myself.

This year was different. I felt far closer to 'Maya' and my activities were more what one would expect. Namely…we got dressed up, got very drunk and went out. This has been a regular routine of our weekends here. The weeks are pretty intense, all day, everyday. Unlike similar rigour exhorted during a school day though, I find myself looking forward to Monday mornings (I cannot believe I just said that). I actually enjoy my classes and that's a bloody fantastic feeling. Im in the right place, right now, for me. Anyway, because of all the work we put in during the week, by the time the weekend rocks up, many of us are ready and raring to get out of our black 'work clothes', into something hotter, and get on the tequila shots. Then dance A LOT. Not in the way we are being trained (although we are plotting to at some point break out our 'Saturdays-Disco Love number as a flash mob), but in a far less structured way. Halloween had been planned for a long old time. Sometimes I do feel a little old, being only 22 this is a novel, yet not fun experience. I got this impression a little on halloween, the vast majority of people in the club we all began at seemed to be 18 (or at least their fake IDs claimed them to be…). I was already feeling a little self conscious and fat, and considered leaving and going home as soon as we got to the club from pre-drinks. Instead, I met a friend who is a third year at Cambridge and went to a club round the corner, then, met up with the rest of the uni lot that night and went home together, filling each other in on aspects of our nights. This, for me, was a pretty good solution and I had a great night. I just really don't wanna be that kid thats like "omg, I'm too old and mature for this stuff", because, thats really not how I feel. I think it was more a case of "omg, I'm older than everyone here", and the knowledge that the same would not be true in all clubs was too tempting for me! 

So, that's where I am. I'm doing my best. I'm still receiving treatment. I'm feeling far more positive. It's still really hard lots of the time and my brain is still sadly riddled with anorexia, but having the distraction of something I love is, thus far, the best combat method i've come across. I love the discipline required, as well as the creativity, and although I cannot quite do it all at the moment, what I can do is amazing. Hopefully soon I will be strong enough to dance again.

On an exciting end note…guess who has a logo:

Annoyingly, none of the theatres we contacted about tickets for patients have come back. Im really disappointed and let down by the lack of response, especially coming from the industry I hope to work in someday. Instead, we are currently examining other possibilities for trips for patients around Christmas. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated (something: warm, safe for fragile people, that won't burn many calories, that isn't food focused…not asking much?!) We're also planning pampering presents to deliver to our old ward for the patients in this christmas, as a couple of us know how rubbish being in over the holidays is. More news to come, i'm exhausted, but was awoken by the fire alarm in my building and decided to finish this post when I couldn't get back to sleep (I'm a real student…see!) Anyway, I should try to get back to sleep, but I couldn't wait to share the pretty logo!

Much love, 

Maya xxxxx

    

Dragonfly taking flight

A little update: I'm terribly sorry to all those wonderful people who have supported the birth of dragonfly. I wanted to just send a little message out to say FEAR NOT. It's still happening. I've been rather neglectful of updating (to my shame) as I've actually just started at drama school in cambridge so am busy acting, singing and dancing my little socks off. So, I'm assuming you'd like to know the plans for dragonfly? Well, at present things stand as such: I've been asked to speak at a conference of all the gdst schools, during which heads can also sign up for the dragnfly talk (hopefully). It's a pretty terrifying prospect, but it's something I'm incredibly proud of having been asked to do and is pretty much the perfect gig to explain to heads of some of the uk's best independent schools what dragonfly is about and how we can help educate about the dangers of eating disorders and teach young women to stop body bashing themselves. So that is one thing that the money that has been donated will be going towards-the educational resources we will need to provide a genuinely beneficial service to schools. Our second plan, which I must say we are really excited about is the hope to provide an edu inpatient unit (hopefully the one that has helped myself, Annie, chan and Beth- all of us dragonfly ambassadors) with some tickets for an uplifting show as a Christmas treat for patients. All of us have experienced inpatient admissions and both Beth and I were waiting on tender hooks last year to find out whether we would be home for Christmas. It's a tricky time on any ward, and the units staff do there damnedest to make sure people have fun, but resources are limited, so there isn't always loads that is actually possible. We hope to use your kind donations for a wonderful outing for those patients able to leave the ward. I suspect I'm slightly biased (considering the path I've gone down), but I really do advocate the power of theatre and music to lift the spirits and take you out of your world and into another! So guys, watch this space, I've been emailing and phoning to try and get my hands on a discounted bunch of tickets, and will update you on any more progress.

So, what about me? How am I doing? Well, in all honesty, it's a pretty mixed bag. I'm absolutely loving my course, and I actually go much of the day without anorexia sitting on my shoulder shouting. Don't get me wrong, she still hisses regularly, but with all the Shakespeare, singing and dancing, it's quite easy to block out the mean words. It's a little scary living away from home, sometimes I get home in the evening, shattered, and suddenly feel im alone with anorexia, but I guess it's just another challenge. And then there is the problem of making sure I eat enough to fuel the intense and full on days. Now, that is probably my biggest worry ATM, as I'm very aware of all the activity I'm doing. This in some ways is a good thing, but probably not as great at your think, as anorexia can get very over excited over exercise and then grip on and rationalise that you've done so well working so hard, lunch would ruin things. I'm trying very hard to ignore this though. It's great being involved for an entire day, as it leaves my head very little time to abuse me, so I can go for lunch, then go straight into an intense acting class (for example) and I've got no space to be beating myself up over the extra 5 calories that tomato ketchup sachet may be! I do have to work very hard to eat enough though, which is a worry. I suppose I just have to keep trying, keep going, ask for the support when I need it and remember that if I wanna keep on this road, I've gotta eat. The staff are all aware and all very supportive, which is fantastic, and I feel like I'm in the right place. Doing the that thing.

So there we go, a speedy date. Watch this space for dragonfly news and once again, thank you so so much. Maya xx

Find Alice Gross

I have been very saddened and moved by the plight of a family reasonably local to me whose daughter has gone missing. From the beginning, after seeing the photos of 'Alice Gross' on posters around Ealing and on Facebook, I had a feeling that she was suffering from anorexia. I could not see her body, but, as silly as it may sound, the look in her eyes was one I recognised and could relate too. Three times since her disappearance, I have been stopped by police cars in the evening and asked for my details, each time they have explained they are looking for a missing girl and just need to confirm who I am. We are not the same race, age, I don't think we look anything alike, but maybe they too could recognise the troubled look. It has been confirmed that Alice is suffering from anorexia. She is still missing. Her families response in my opinion is admirable, they truly have put everything in to finding Alice and she is clearly missed greatly. I'm sure she will not read this, but I know that if you type 'Anorexia' and a few other things into search engines, my blog comes up. I also know people with eating disorders often read about others experiences. For this reason I wanted to send a message to Alice, just in case there is the slightest little chance she has ever looked at my blog, seeking comfort that others minds are as haunted as hers, if you are able Alice, go home and let people look after you. Anorexia can make you feel very guilty and as if everyone would be better off without you. It can make you feel like you cause more trouble than you are worth. It can be very frustrating for those who love you and sometimes that can cause you lots of guilt. I have no idea whether Alice ran away or whether she is away from her family involuntarily, but I do want to say that if she can go home or if anyone knows where she is, please please let her be reunited with her family. She needs the love of them to help her battle her daemons. However much it may feel that anorexia is just causing your loved ones too much anguish and they would be better off if you ran away, it's not the case. They love you. They may hate the anorexia, but that doesn't mean they hate you. It is quite clear from the determination of the Gross family that Alice is very loved. I hope that she gets home and that she battles her daemons. Please share the poster below on twitter/facebook/anywhere you can.

#findalicegross http://www.missingpeople.org.uk/help-us-find/alice-gross-14-004178