Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Part 1 of however many it takes

My little ranting blog post

So, I said I would write about what has been happening to make me so upset.
And I will try, but I am not very good with vocalizing my emotions, and quite often I find that words don't convey my emotions the way I would wish!
And also, I am currently sitting on the train typing on my iPad, so getting emotional is not really an option...
I will give a little extra background knowledge to help people out, because my emotions don't necessarily make sense to strangers.
First point of order, who I am. I have lived a very sheltered life, this is true. I grew up in a very well off suburb, with a mum and dad who loved me to bits, but we're extremely overprotective! When I was two and a bit all of my wildest dreams came true when I was given a beautiful baby sister!
Through the years Tess has been my true best friend, even though the majority of times we have been at each others necks. She has my back with everything, and I can never truly repay her for all of the emotional support she has given me, without ever realising!
I started out at my local community kindergarten when I was 4, and continued there for preschool, I made some good friends, a few of which I still see on occasion. For year one I was placed at John XXIII, which is a catholic co-Ed school in mount Claremont, a rather rich suburb. I then spent 12 years at JTC, making a group of friends that was, while supportive, very restricting. I loved them to bits, but while I was at JTC I was also stuck, when you are with the same people for that long a time frame, you don't get the same chance to grow as a person. I took the same group of friends with me into high school, and with that I took the same set of problems.
My family has always been exceptionally sports orientated. As a tiny baby my mum used to take me to baby swimming classes, where she would hold me on the surface of the water and I would simply float. But my love affair with water has continued since then. I began serious swim training back in year 4, at uniswim, I would train 3 or 4 times a week, and even got started on some competitive racing. In year six I transferred to west coast swim club, to train with the top coaches in the state. I was always the fastest in my year at school, from primary school even into high school. I was named house captain in year 7, and led my house to win the swimming carnival. I was always a good swimmer, but I continued to swim just a smidgen above the qualifying times for nationals when I was 13, 14 and 15.
When I turned 16 I finally made the qualifying time, and ended up in the slowest of 13 heats for the 50 meter freestyle at Sydney Olympic swimming pool. From all of those girls, I managed to sprint past my previous PBs and come in 13th, which meant that I just missed out on making the finals.
But before this becomes a tale of my swimming times, I must also mention my rowing prowess.
In year 8 PE we were put through a series of tests run by the WA institute of sport, to determine future champions. After being told that I was the second fittest girl in western Australia i was assigned to rowing, one of only 10 young adults, and the youngest by 2 years. We began training, and less than a year later the remaining 5 of us were placed in the WAIS under 19s squad. By this stage I was the youngest by nearly 4 years!
I do love sport, and I couldn't imagine my life without it. But I did miss out on a lot of things that normal teenagers do. And it also led to extreme eating problems, which have fluctuated since then.
People say that exercise releases endorphins, so you would think that a girl doing 14 hour of swimming, 9 hours of rowing and 8 hours of land training each week would be ecstatic!!!
Unfortunately I never seemed to feel any of those little happy brain signals!
When I reached the ripe old age of 15 I was throwing up after every meal, in an attempt to be skinny. I was also slicing my wrists and popping panadol at an increasing rate. I don't know what would have happened if a concerned friend hadn't called my parents about my behaviour. I was taken to the doctor and forwarded on to a psychiatrist, which is where i spent at least 4 hours a week for years 10 and 11.
I was clinically diagnosed with depression, and managed to get my bulimia under control. But it wasn't until 2008, when I was 18, that I was placed on anti-depressants.
Even now, when I am 21, I still cope with stress, anger and sadness by throwing up. It is just something that comforts me, but I know it is bad.
I have some amazing friends to thank for getting me through the hard times, some don't even know that they were the one to stop me from taking that irreversible step over the edge.
I know I am blessed to have the life I do, but whether it is due to nature or nurture, I have been given this mental disease, and I will try and deal with it for the rest of my life!

I know I promised an explanation of my current situation, but I think a little background knowledge helps, and I am truly grateful to get this off my chest...
I will give more information soon


Anonymous said...

good on you for writing it :) i enjoyed reading it. hope you're feeling better

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