Stompy 'Burn'

Don't believe that a green deck can play like a red one??? Wait till you see what Planar Chaos (the expansion set with colorshifted cards) has to offer!

Groundbreaker seems awfully familiar... Ball Lightning, anyone? Yep, it got colorshifted in Planar Chaos. 6 damage to the head if unblocked, and it has trample to boot, so it's almost guaranteed to deal some damage! If Ball Lightning was a good deal, this one definitely is, too!

That's not the only goodie which Planar Chaos has to offer. Uktabi Drake reads an awful lot like Shock, doesn't it??? It's practically unblockable on turn 1 unless your opponent has a Birds of Paradise or Suntail Hawk whipped out.

Timbermare is another 5 damage to the head for your opponent. Albeit that's the only 5 damage you are going to deal the turn it gets played, because it taps your creatures as well.

Need something to push those dudes over the top? Gaea's Anthem (a colorshifted Glorious Anthem) pokes their power and toughness over the edge. Those pingers and 1/1 chump blockers would not be able to deal with Uktabi Drake and Groundbreaker now!

To add even more explosive power to the deck, Future Sight's Magus of the Vineyard chips in with his mana producing ability. The only bad bit is that your opponent gets the 1st dibs on the extra mana; which may prove anywhere from irritating to downright suicidal (for you) at times.

Since you're playing a buttload of critters, the colorshifted Soul Warden in Planar Chaos (which happens to be green as well!) can chip in and give you a life boost with every pseudo burn spell you chuck out!

The 3 Bad Ingrained Things

False Generalizations: This is when you think you are your behavior-when you turn what you DO (even if only once) into what you ARE. If you spill your coffee all over your new pants in front of a group of people, you're a klutz. If you're late to meetings you must be slow or you must be lazy, and always will be.

Unrealistic Conclusions: This is thinking that you'll never change behaviors that you dislike about yourself. Example: "I ate the whole bag of chips last night. I'll never be able to control myself."

Self-Defeating Conclusions: These thoughts reflect an expectation for hopelessness in your efforts to change how you relate with others. They might go something like, "Since i'm worthless and lazy, what's the use of trying to change anything?"

-Don't Let Your Emotions Run Your Life, by Scott E. Spradlin, MA

Any of them sound familiar??? Well, it's basically how my head runs. If i slip up and eat something 'bad', i'd always be weak-willed. And then, i'd feel like i never be abe to control myself. And that i'd go and binge, figuring that i'm worthless and that i'm doomed to be fat anyway, so why do i bother trying.

Call it a big mental breakthru or something, but the simplest (not the easiest thing in the world though, mind you) solution to the problem would be to simply give the idea of weight loss (which leads to the need to diet) up. It's the hardest, and yet the simplest, thing to do. You might even say that it's the ONLY solution to break out of the eating disordered mindset.

Of course, it's still a challenge to BREAK the same-old ingrained thoughts in my head. But heck, i'm trying.

Ward Politics

Ward life is, frankly, tiring at times. In many ways, it's like playing an extreme game of Survivor/the Apprentice/Desperate Housewives.

There's alot of politicking, and it mirrors the contradictory minefield that's all our (the patient's) psyches. On one hand, there's the (in varying degrees in different patients) desire to get well. On the other, there's the eating disorder within which fights its own eradication. And it manifests with shifting alliances and friendships and backstabbings (which would put Richard Hatch to shame!) which occurs everyday.

Take this for example: someone not finishing their food. A person who's intent to recover would feel triggered and feel guilty about having to eat 'more'. A person who's not that motivated would feel that it's unfair and want to 'one-up' the perpetuator by engaging in some form of competition. To complicate things, the perpetuator may be liked/disliked in general by the rest of the group, which means that airing your displeasure may result in social suicide. And so it goes.

Plenty of gossip abound in the ward; you can almost see the social cliques (and i can't deny that it's more entertaining and engrossing to engage in ward politics than focusing on recovery) and daily bitching about other patients. Add to the fact that eating disordered patients tend to have a non-avoidance (you can even say 2-faced) personality, and you can never be sure if the person talking to you truly is friendly, or is just being friendly to you and airing your dirty laundry to other people.

The perfect solution, of course, is to keep in mind that your purpose of admission and to focus on it, instead of doing the daily bitching and catching up on gossip. On the other hand, temptation is a difficult force to resist.

Now excuse me while i go find out who's trying to cheat at their supplements.

HL Strawberry Milk

New HL milk flavor? Count me burned by the banana flavored one; it's the BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT ever for me. Yuck, pass me the hurl bucket.

But one time, when tapowing lunch from the SGH's houseman canteen, Ryanryan spotted a brand new flavor of HL milk in the fridge. And went 'oh my god, i WANT!'. Ended up with trooping happily back to the ward, only to discover that i can't take it because of the pesky '99% fat free' proclamation on the packaging.

Darn you, Marigold, for splashing the message across the carton!

Luckily, the nurses still allowed me to have it anyway, though i had to pour it out into a cup so that the packaging 'won't trigger other patients'. Ok...

Turns out that the milk is worth the trouble getting. It's DAMN good. It's rich and creamy (totally unlike other 1% milks) and totally sweet with the strawberry flavor. I'd say that it's the best strawberry milk i ever had (think the texture of strawberry drinking yoghurt with richness of a milkshake).

Nurse MeiYee was intrigued after hearing me go all gaga over the milk, and tried it that very day too. 2nd opinion from another person? It's GOOD (and i couldn't resist a 'i told you so!').

HL strawberry milk
(per 200ml serve)
138cals, 10g protein, 2g fat (1.4g saturated), 20g carbohydrate (0.4g fibre)

I'm A Heathen, So Get Over It

Disclaimer: in no way is this post meant to insult/offend/piss off Christians/church people. Just that i'm unfortunate enough to have met a pushy (and hopefully, small) segment of the believers.

I wish i can't just say it one final time: I'M NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR FAITH!!!

I have a beef with people (no matter if you are Christian or Mormon or Buddhist or Taoist or Hindu or Cult of the Toilet Bowl) who just HAVE to push their religion on me. If you leave me alone to make up my mind about which religion to subscribe to, i MAY pick the one you subscribe to.

BUT if you insist on pushing me to your version of salvation, then forget it. I'd count the coercion as a minus point when considering your religion.

I totally understand if you are really excited about your newfound passport to heaven (and if i'm in a good mood, i'm happy for you). But that's your own problem/solution, and i MIGHT be interested in hearing about it, but no thanks, i'm not interested in being subjected to a high pressure sales pitch in your religion.

Seriously, if i'm interested, i'd ask. If i didn't ask, then DUH, i'm not interested!

That's the worst bit about Christians; it seems like they have an agenda to convert as many as they can, and they're not above using emotions and/or 'friendship' to get you into their fold, and then moving on to snare another passerby after they are sure that you're conscripted into the faith.

I guess that, on the plus side, they win brownie points from the Dude Upstairs for getting new converts, plus it gives them a sense of satisfaction. But i resent being emotionally blackmailed into conversion.

Maybe i'm just a gullible person who can't say know. Heavens (oh god, a pun; wait, 2 puns!) know how many times i got so worn down by a Christianity recruiter that i caved and did the usual conversion prayer in order to get them off my back and let me continue on my way. Sucks to not be able to say no, ain't it?

I Am Me

I finally got around to blogging on The Ryanryan Files yet again. Here's the 1st post!

Introductions seem to be the hardest things to write. You have so much to condense down to a manageable size, make everything nicely and cleanly spelt out.

I'm Ryan. 18. A guy (cue the DUH!). I'm your nice and standard and cookie cutter type dude, on the surface, at least. Scratch the veneer and you'd find that i am wonked up in the head.

Wait, i'm not a serial murderer (though i've fantasized about offing people i can't stand). I'm not a vampire/werewolf/demon/cultist. I just have an eating disorder. Ok, maybe not a JUST, because it's hell to live with an eating disorder.

You can call him Rex. He's that caloric counting demon in my head. He promises a better life if i do what he says. Bullshit. I followed him to 35kg and did 3 hour runs and counted every 0.1 calorie i put into my mouth, but i never found the happiness he said i will find. But i didn't dare to disobey him for nearly 3 years (and wasted a year's worth of my life as well). It's only the latest admission into SGH (Singapore General Hospital) did i make the biggest decision in my life so far: to give up letting Rex run my life and actually fire him.

Of course, Rex is not going to give up so easily, not when he has such a tremendous hold on my life. In hospital, with supportive therapists and other patients, it's easy to fight. Back home, in the bastion of Rex (where lots of the most disordered things i do take place), it's WAY harder. The ingrained habits surface once again, and i often despair at how i'd ever be recovered.

Still, i'm not giving up. And i'd fight for the freedom that i deserve.

Dragonstorm Deck

Ryanryan hasn't been following Magic: the Gathering too closely after the fiasco that is Future Sight (it feels like a watered down and unfocused expansion set!), but Time Spiral block definitely brought one of the coolest combo decks i've seen to the forefront.

Introducing Dragonstorm!

This card was a pretty junky rare when it 1st appeared in the Scourge expansion (who wants to pay 9 freaking mana for a tutor that can't win the game instantly???), though it definitely fueled casual Dragon decks. Who knew that with it being reprinted in Time Spiral as a Timeshifted card, together with Dragons with great come into play abilities, would turn a junk rare into a tournament deck's core card?

See it now??? Rack a storm count for Dragonstorm up (you don't need anything more than 4 if your opponent isn't packing life gain) and pop a few Bogardan Hellkites out for 20 damage straight to your opponent's life total. Which conveniently starts off at 20.

The other part of the equation would be racking up the mana to get to pulling off a Dragonstorm. Come on, plonking a Mountain every turn ain't gonna cut it.

Thank god for great Dark Ritual-esque cards for red mages everywhere! Coldsnap's Rite of Flame can boost your red mana up with multiple copies of it played, and Seething Song turns 3 mana to 5 red mana! The bonus: each spell plated up your storm count, and both of them are spells.

Too bad Seething Song got yanked from the latest Core Set, 10th Edition. Looks like Wizards don't want too many Dragonstorm decks running rampant. It's pretty much what makes the Dragonstorm deck pop out of nowhere and win games.

Check out the thread on MTG Salvation for Dragonstorm decks. And pack it to the next Magic game you play; it's great fun!

Ball Of Pain

Ouch, ouch and ouch. Well, i'm no fan of balancing exercises (it's dead embarrassing when you fall/jiggle/make a donk of yourself!), but Ryanryan sees the point of doing them as part of a balanced exercise program.

There's this bosu or boju (whatever) ball thing which i've been doing (not by choice!) during the physiotherapy sessions, and boy do i hate that infernal contraption! It jiggles like mad (and makes me jiggle like a demented spare tyre too) and the trainer wants me to keep my knees bent, and back straight, while balanced on it. A few repetitions later, your thighs are screaming for mercy and you wonder what made you agree to step on that darned thing in the first place! And the wobbling... Oh god, i think even Jello wobbles less than Ryanryan when he's perched on the ball.

But i kind of see the effects of that a few sessions later. Thigh endurance is noticeably increased (with a shorter recovery 'ache' time), though part of it can be attributable to eating a more balanced diet too. And hey, it gets fun; the last session, for a change of pace (and so that i can be distracted from feeling self-conscious while watching myself jiggle!), Sundar (the trainer at the gym) and i threw a soccer ball at each other while i balanced on the contraption, which was distracting enough to make the workout more fun than torturous.

And when all else fails, SMSing someone while ignoring the burning pain in the thighs when in the middle of the exercise sure helps divert some of the misery.

The Simpsons Movie

I'm not a big Simpsons fan, but when Intense-Gal and patients hunkered down to watch the movie one boring Friday night at the ward, i figure that joining in would be more fun than spacing out with my DS.

You see, i never GOT the Simpsons. I guess it's because most of the humor is more adult-ish (yet it's still a cartoon!), and frankly, the TV episodes never managed to quite hold my attention for long. The funny bits hinge on 'getting the references', and quite alot of it flew over my 12 year old head (yep, that's the one and only time i tried to watch an entire episode of the show). So i never understood what's so nice about the Simpsons, despite everyone telling me that it's marvelous.

So i sat down, expecting a boring movie. And the Simpsons turned out to be an absolute blast to watch!

Maybe it's because i wasn't 'in tune' enough as a kid to get the jokes (all the Al Gore and the Inconvenient Truth stuff, the Arnold However-You-Spell-His-Surname-zennegar as President of the United States, etc etc), but i definitely DO get it now. It's really funny and drop-dead OH MY GOD, IT'S SO TRUE political commentary at the same time. Ok, it's probably the most politically incorrect show Ryanryan had ever watched (goes to show how INNOCENT my movie experiences have been, heh).

And the less deep (but no less hilarious stuff):
-Bart Simpson zipping down town NAKED and having convenient objects in the way.
-Spider-Pig/Harry Trotter!
-The 2 police officers who ALMOST catches the Simpsons when they're on the run.

It's giggle-a-minute, yet touching as well, especially towards the end. Plus, as usual, the day is saved, but not without the usual trail of devastation only Homer and Bart Simpson can leave behind!

Definitely would recommend this movie to anyone old enough to get it. And parents, just because it's a cartoon, do not bring your little precious, innocent kids along, because you'd be covering their eyes and ears for the whole film!

Breaking Up and White Flag

Editing note: this post was tapped out quite awhile ago when the pain was still fresh. I guess i've pretty much gotten over it now. But i can't bear to chuck this post out, so... Here it is.

Stupid promises. Forget the useless dreams. Damn the sweet nothings. In the end, when all that's left of a relationship is the trash you sweep out of your room and into a stash in the corner (where a small part of you still clings on to hope that somehow, things can be mended), chuck the memories out of your head and try to ignore the numb bruises on your heart, reality sets in and you blame the stupid hormones for making you a lovesick puppy.

What POSSESSED me to imagine that we'd live the rest of our lives together happily, feed each other breakfast in bed, go grocery shopping hand in hand, blah blah blah... When it boiled down to its miserable ending, the whole relationship degenerated into a choice between Rex (the eating disorder) or the other person. As though i had a choice; Rex wins out over the bickering. And to ask me to quit exhibiting symptoms when i'm really sick is akin to tell a drunk alcoholic to sober up.

Blah, i'm a bunch of sour grapes today. Treasure your sweetheart while he/her is still around; when all that's left of that dream is just a cold spot on the bed and an ache for someone, anyone, to put their arms around you, you still have the lukewarm phantoms of the memory in your heart.

PS: Dido works wonders for heartaches. I fell in love with White Flag.

The NYJC Factor

Ryanryan had been really thinking very hard about when the depression and/or (or perhaps, even simultaneously) the eating disorder set into his life. It seemed like everything started all the way back in 2005.

Well, i definitely HAVE been dieting for most of 2004 (for the one and only time in my entire life when severe calorie restriction down to less than 1000cals has been successful) during my secondary 4 year, but i think i was carrying enough excess weight that the side effects of dieting, like exhaustion and stuff, didn't set in. At that time, i was dieting to lose weight (vanity!), lower my blood pressure (a shocking discovery during a health check-up) and to prepare to reinvent myself for the change to junior college. And boy did it work; i started off at 85kg and slimmed down to 60kg at the end of the year. All was good... so far.

I had great pals (hey JiaYing, WeiMing, YaoYee and Shaun!), felt good about myself, and everything.

When January 2005 rolled around, i headed off to NYJC (Nanyang Junior College) with my hopes up and all revved up to go being The Popular Person (as opposed to being the Fat Funny Sidekick). It worked totally great at 1st. I had a ton of fun during January, with the group of people in my orientation group (the orientation week was SUPER fun as well). It seemed like, for once, i shed my Fat Boy image and had everything going for me.

But not all good things last. The group split up into different classes (according to the subject combinations we have chosen) and i ended up pretty much flung back to square one. I felt kind of lost (with lots of my group pals in another class, and me frequently hanging out with their class instead of mine; i chose the Physics, Chemistry, Maths C and Further Maths combination, which ended up with me in a class of smart nerds, eekness) and channeled my energy into improving my physique. You see, i never truly got off The Diet since i never had a goal weight in mind; i guess, at the back of my head, i figured the only way to maintain this weight is to eat this way for the rest of my life.

So i started cutting classes to hit the gym. As well as starting to obsess more over my fat grams, and then moved on to my calories when i ran out of fat grams to cut.

The dieting might have led to depression also. I dimly recall (but mom and dad still remembers) quite a few days when i simply broke down on the way to school (on public transportation), crying for no reason other than feeling an overwhelming wave of sadness and longing for the past. The depression remained for much of the year; heck, i may not even have 'recovered' from it, since i ended up with a more serious problem (the eating disorder) to deal with.

By March, my GCE O level results were out and i thought that by plucking my roots up and transferring over to ACJC (Anglo-Chinese Junior College), i'd be able to start anew again. But the calorie counting and exercising still remained (i didn't see my obsessiveness being a problem). You could pretty much predict what happened after that. Orientation was kind of fun (though not as great as my 1st one in NYJC) and then i felt kind of left out again after that, and back into the developing eating disorder i plunged, subconsciously believing that it's just a matter of losing more weight before i became Mr Popular.

And at May, mom convinced me to go see a psychologist. I agreed, since i saw the signs of depression for myself. Final diagnosis? Anorexia nervosa. How fun.

Delifrance Coconut Muffin

Delifrance has this $1 muffins deal recently, and after hearing a pal in the ward rave about it, i figure that i really should try it. After forgetting to buy it (quite a few times; grr my bad memory!), i finally remembered to get it together with Z-Boy while we're together at the SGH Delifrance before snacktime.

Oh, and ignore Timmy's boobs. We were going ballistic and sticking wads of paper down his chest!

The muffin was BIG (and still look big right beside Timmy's Z cup chest). Of course, that brings back familiar feelings of guilt over overeating, but that guilt is more a shadow of it's former self. I figure that it's just FOOD, and it's not going to make me pile the pounds on unless i finish a carton of it (which will happen if i decide to deny myself that satisfaction now and fantasize about the muffins).

And it's GOOD, though a little on the dry side (that's from buying the last few muffins of the batch that was probably made in the morning). It's kind of like, cookie-like on the top (totally crumbly) and chewy on the (bottom) inside, like any good muffin should be. It's a pretty good deal at just $1, though i shudder at how much it would cost after the discount is over. Oh well, so get them while the discount stands.

AND GOD, muffins are good. I can't believe i've deprived them just to get down to 35kg (and end up having to put myself thru so much pain to get the weight back up).

Timmy's boob's have since been reduced. Heh. Playing plastic surgeon has never been so fun (who knew doctors actually sculpt the nicest boobs; not even the nurses's work comes close!).

Tummies Need Folds

Big revelation in the shower (sidenote: why is it that the gals in the ED Program take FOREVER to shower???): people are meant to have tummies!

Ok, it sounds so DUH and obvious, but it's something which i always thought would go away if i lost weight. Then, along the way, i equated it with losing enough weight. So, the moment i don't have a stomach anymore, i wouldn't be fat.

Sounds logical, ain't it? Not until you realize that there HAS TO BE SOMETHING IN BETWEEN YOUR CHEST AND YOUR HIPS. If even a fold of skin (which i was convinced would contain fat cells) existed on my stomach, i would tell myself that i'm fat and that i haven't gotten rid of my flab yet (now you see why i always thought i'm fat, even at 35kg and with A TON OF LOOSE SKIN).

I used to have this totally crazy habit of sitting on a chair with a side view of my tummy, and complain that i'm fat when i stare at the (naturally) bunched up flesh. And i didn't really think about what would constitute NOT FAT. If i had a perfectly flat tummy while sitting down, wouldn't it mean that the skin would tear when i stood up (and it would HAVE TO STRETCH if i stood).

You can definitely say that it was a EUREKA moment.

And when i got out of the shower, i scooped up Men's Health. True enough, even hunky people DO have tummy folds when they sit down. And we're talking about people who are in peak shape (which they drop down to during photoshoots and not maintain year round) AND who have underwent Photoshoppage.

And it didn't hurt that G-Boy and another (dude) patient said that i'm (somewhat) hunky. Hey, that's a great ego boost can!

The Konnyaku OT

Florence, the occupational therapist, asked us what me wanted to do for an occupational therapy cooking session. And all of us went YAY! at the mention of cooking (i NEVER had a cooking session before at SGH occupational therapy sessions), and finally decided on konnyaku jelly because it's easy to make (tossed out ideas include muffins, egg tarts and so on).

Tuesday rolls around, and we trooped down to the occupational therapy room, lugging the ingredients along and chatting like mad. Took awhile to get everything sorted out, utensils collected and everything, and it's off to work! Thank god Florence didn't mind us taking lots of lots of pictures; it's really fun!

We needed to measure out the water for the konnyaku mix (which came pre-mixed with sugar stirred in and everything; it's way more convenient than the other kind which needed you to stir sugar in and run the risk of getting a clumpy jelly in the end). Thank god for Google, the measuring cup measures in ounces and we needed to convert 2500ml into ounces (it's about 84.5 ounces, by the way).

And it's a simple matter of bringing the water to boil on the stove while stirring the mix in (following the instructions on the back of the packet). We popped strawberry essence in as well, and it smelt pretty nice (too bad that it turned out that the essence gave ONLY the smell and not the TASTE of strawberries in the jelly).

While that's going on, the other people were doing the fruits that would go into the jelly. Can openers are wiggy (i still have a phobia of slicing a finger off; chalk it up to one too many horror , cautionary tale which i heard as a kid!).

Since we're all a bunch of eating disordered people, we totally wanted to drain the canned fruit (it came in heavy syrup) and rinse with water and everything, but Florence put a stop to it!

So it's down to scooping the fruits into the molds. Hey, not easy work can, you can't put too little or too much of it into a mold! And Ryanryan helped out, so they MUST be extra nice.

The pot of mix and water finally was ready, and we scooped the stuff into the molds, on top of the fruits (which would suspend themselves in the solidified jelly, somehow, by themselves, later).

The solution slowly 'stiffened' as it cooled (and while we were still scooping it!), and ended up looking like mucus/snot/morning gunk!

Into the fridge it goes, to chill and set (but it's pretty wobbly and kind of firm even before we stick it in).

Cleaning up was pretty fun (mucus gops galore!). And then it's back to the ward we troop, carrying the molds and getting lots of stares from people walking past us!

Yum!

The End of Red Band

I snipped my red pro-ana band!

Ok, got that off my chest. I've been grappling over whether i should blog about this for awhile. It's represents one aspect of life i'm happier to forget about; on the other hand, it kind of marks the instant when i gave up grappling with the issue of how much of the eating disorder i want to hold onto, and decided to chuck all aspects of it away.

Basically, this is what happened. On a Monday, there was a check-in group (for the Eating Disorders Program i'm participating in) at the ward, and Ms Boon gave me a challenge to remove the band around my biceps. She's really sharp-eyed, by the way. I swear it's hidden right under my sleeve, and not more than a sliver of it can be peeking out!

And the weird bit is, i never really noticed that it's there. I spotted it in my duffel bag which i dumped all my clothes to bring to the hospital in (and found it when i was unpacking the duffel in the ward), and popped it on. It's not a KNOWING kind of popping on; i've become so used to wearing it that it has become a reflex action to pull it up my arm and onto my bicep when i leave the house (the same way you put your contacts on, or the same way you remember to wear your pants before leaving the house!). I never thought twice about it. And there it stayed snug on my biceps, coming off (occasionally) when i hit the showers.

I've been wearing it for so long that the very significance of it, of being pro-anorexic and affirming that i WANT to stay sick, has been lost at the back of my head. And the irony of wearing it into therapy was lost on me (though i, of course, was irritated with another inpatient for wearing the same colored band; Ryanryan should have realized it's like the pot calling the kettle black). It stayed out of sight for more than a week, the constriction barely registering in my mind.

Anyway, being called out by Ms Boon about the band definitely gave me a big shock. I've been ruminating about giving the disorder up and actually combating it full time over the weekend (and you can say it's an improvement over my mental state when i was just admitted; i only wanted to stop the binge/restrict cycle). And taking the band off, with a beetroot face, kind of solidified the decision.

I know, i know, it sounds so totally corny. But, the freedom and LACK of a bind on my arm felt SO liberating. And it feels like a physical sign of how free i would feel for the rest of my life, if i stay commited to recover.

The actual destruction of the red band came with the afternoon's feedback group session (with Dr Lee), and i piped up about taking off the red band earlier in the morning. Dr Lee asked me if i wanted to get rid of it, since it's so totally NOT going to help with my recovery (nor the others in the ward). I was pretty willing, but a bit of me hesitated. It's not as easy as i thought. Taking it off is one thing, utter destruction another. But i just kind of went along and decided to just hop off the proverbial edge of the cliff. And SNIP (with a borrowed pair of scissors; it's a psychiatric ward, after all), and it's gone.

I can go on about epiphanies and stuff, but well, it wasn't an instantaneous thing that i chose to give the disorder up. It's probably more like, i was resistant to tackling the disorder itself upon admission (and only willing to tackle the symptoms i find disturbing, yet keeping the comforting bits). But after going cold turkey from the symptoms (and a few terrifying encounters with the team!) and lots of mulling over my future, without binges to keep my mind distracted and in the present (so as to speak), i kind of meandered my way into somewhat of a decision. And the cutting of the band was kind of the ending line for the considering and taking the plunge into doing it.

The only thing spending time on my wrist (as opposed to hidden under my sleeves) now is a white band which a few really close pals who are in recovery themselves gave me, one day when i was really down and hiding out in shame at home (and ignoring all their SMSes and calls). It was really touching to discover that they left a shirt and a band behind for me. And this band doesn't constrict; it hangs loose on my wrist, a reminder that some people really do want me to recover and not stay mired in this illness.

Edit: I lost my white band in the ward! And still am hunting for it. Grr...

Too Thin Teens

You should have seen us (meaning the ward patients and me) when i went 'oh gosh, the ward is in the newspapers!' and we crowded around to take a look at the article, before going ballistic and angry all over it!

It just feels so blatantly exaggerated, and the reporters never bothered following up on the article (the CRIB has been improved since and heck, nobody really suffers anymore). Intense-Gal (a fellow patient) got so riled up, she fired off a long reply in the Straits Time's website.

I figure that you should read the article in it's entirety. So here it is.

Aug 12, 2007

Too thin teens

Anorexia cases here are up and the attitude of some teens that it's hip to have the illness has doctors worried By Tan Dawn Wei & Bryna Sim ALL she wanted was for her sisters to stop calling her 'fat' and 'bimbo' and to win more friends at school.

And the best way to get there, she felt, was to lose the baby fat on her face. But that led her straight to hospital and 'humiliating' treatment for anorexia nervosa.

The 14-year-old's plight is sadly typical of most sufferers of the eating disorder.

Like many victims, Michelle - not her real name - is from a middle-income family, goes to an elite girls' school and does well in her studies.

Her problems started last year in Secondary 1.

Taunted by her classmates and sisters, she started rejecting food, eating only vegetables and small spoonfuls of rice for dinner, sometimes her only meal for the day.

'All the girls around me were very thin and they all seemed to have many friends. I felt very left out,' said the pale, rail-thin teenager in between sobs.

When a school trip came up earlier this year, a teacher noticed her bony frame and sallow face and decided she was not well enough to go. The school counsellor then alerted her parents.

By the time Michelle's mother, Mrs Lim, checked her into the eating disorder programme at Singapore General Hospital (SGH) last month, the 1.5m-tall teen had lost 10kg in six months and weighed just 29.5kg. She should be at least 42kg to qualify as healthy.

Mrs Lim has since taken Michelle out of SGH after objecting to its order of complete bed rest. Michelle could not shower for days and had to use a bed pan, which her mum called 'humiliating'. She also wrote to The Sunday Times and Singapore Children's Society to complain about the treatment.

But her illness did not come as a complete surprise to Mrs Lim as she had been through it herself.

'I was hoping it wasn't anorexia, but I was in denial,' said the private tutor. 'I didn't want her to end up like me.'

Michelle, who still suffers from hair loss, severe constipation and insomnia, returned to school last Wednesday, but dealing with her illness will be a 'long, hard process', said Mrs Lim.

It is a traumatic story that is becoming increasingly common here. There are no statistics on eating disorders, but a 2005 study cited 126 cases of anorexia seen by the Institute of Mental Health from 1994 to 2002.

Before 2002, SGH, the only hospital here with an eating disorders programme, saw about 20 to 30 patients a year. Last year, it saw 200.

What is concerning professionals is the attitude of some of the teens who see anorexia as hip.

'There is a copycat effect. It's like an 'in' thing among girls, especially those in girls' schools and universities,' said Dr Liow Pei Hsiang, consultant at Alexandra Hospital's psychiatry unit, where the number of patients seeking treatment for eating disorders has doubled in four years.

And so it is. Michelle and her classmates fight to be the skinniest in class. 'We would try to outdo each other by seeing who ate less that day, or who exercised more,' she said.

The most common eating disorders are anorexia, in which a sufferer severely restricts food intake, and bulimia nervosa, which involves bingeing and purging.

They hit females 10 times more than males. Females in adolescence and their 20s are particularly vulnerable, said Dr Lee Ee Lian, senior consultant psychiatrist and director of the SGH eating disorders programme.

At least one top girls' school, Methodist Girls' School, has seen a slight rise in the number of students with eating disorders but counsellor Ann Robers declined to give figures.

Teachers have been given checklists designed by Mrs Robers to help identify girls who may suffer from any psychological problems, including eating disorders.

The students are also regularly weighed in physical education class - if their weight drops sharply, the counsellor and parents are notified.

The Health Promotion Board is monitoring the issue and organises seminars for teachers and school counsellors on dealing with various health issues, including eating disorders.

SGH's Dr Lee has seen her fair share of truly challenging cases over the years, like several teen patients with body mass indexes (BMI) of nine and who were so weak they could not speak or swallow. The healthy BMI range is from 18.5 to 22.9.

One anorexic woman was hospitalised 50 times in four years while another had severe psychotic depression. 'She heard voices telling her to kill herself, which she eventually did,' said Dr Lee.

The eating disorders programme loses one patient every year to suicide, pneumonia and starvation. Not all suffer from eating disorders exclusively; some may have other psychological problems.

Studies put the mortality rate of eating disorders at between 5 and 20 per cent. But even if you do not die from it, there could be long-term effects like brain atrophy, osteoporosis and infertility.

Dr Ken Ung, of Adam Road Hospital, says 10 to 20 per cent of those afflicted never recover.

'Every time I see a case, I pray and try every trick in the book. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't,' said Dr Ung, who treats up to 50 new cases a year. 'You can say, 'You're not getting out of here until you put on 5kg'. But when she leaves, she stops eating again.'

One 13-year-old sufferer who is determined never to starve herself again is June (not her real name).

Last year, the 1.53m-tall teen ate only bread and hit her condo's gym every day. 'I would look in the mirror and still think that I was fat, although I was actually very skinny. I wanted to eat, yet I told myself I hated food because I was afraid that I would get fat.'

She was always tired, getting styes and coughs that would last for months.

After her weight plummeted from 40kg to 32kg in the first four months of last year, she started to will herself to eat and is now 43kg.

The youngest of three children of a university lecturer and housewife can proudly say she wolves down four slices of pizza at one sitting. 'And I feel like a whole new person,' she said.

dawntan@sph.com.sg

brynasim@sph.com.sg

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SELF-DELUSIONAL

'I would look in the mirror and still think that I was fat, although I was actually very skinny. I wanted to eat, yet I told myself I hated food because I was afraid that I would get fat.'
JUNE, 13

Intense-Gal's reply:

I am a recovering anorexic and an inpatient at the ward. I wish to make some clarifications about the information that was published with regards to the programme that i feel was inaccurately written.

Firstly, i do not think it is a maze through to the ward. You only have walk around the level 4 nurse' station after getting off the lift and walk pass four B1 patient rooms(two on both sides) to get to the ward 46A. And i think it would be logical that the ward be at the end of the corridor to protect the patients' privacy. (often we are made to feel like exhibits when visitors deliberately peer in or stare at us. Being a patient in a psychiatric ward doesnt mean we are all wild and insane. I only wish that the stigma towards mental illnesses be stamped out and the awareness towards illnesses like eating disorders be heightened so that girls like us would not have to wait till their bodies get to bad state before they start seeking treatment)

The article painted an inexact picture of the SGH eating disorders' programme and the ward.

-Firstly, there are good reasons to check visitors' belongings. To prevent smuggling in of extra food in(although all good and well-meaning intentions of anxious relatives (HUH? not even fruits? but i thought you need to gain weight?) are always appreciated but firmly rejected). Our daily food intake is calculated by the dietician and adjusted. Any extra/any less would lead to a miscalculation. We take three main meals. Supplements are for weight restoration. Some patients with bineging urges may also be triggered.

-Not all patients in the ward are anorexic patients. Their is a myriad of psychiatric conditions people can suffer from. The statement "the presence of painfully thin and pale girls greeting you" is exaggerated. Many of us are not "painfully thin" because we have recovered to some extent and some other eating disordered patients are bulimics as well.

-Days are not "regimented" as they put it. We have an eating disorders' programme from mon-fridays with activities like therapy, discussion, feedback and occupational therapy sessions.

-In the programme, many recovering anorexics start to enjoy socialising again with others and we often enjoy chatting with our fellow patients and supervising doctors or therapists during meal or session times, centainly not always dreadful unless the anorexic is in an early stage in recovery and feels that she/he is being force-fed.

-Not all the girls compete with each other and more often we give each other encouragement and emotional support. We are taught to focus on out own recovery and not to make comparisions.

-CRIB restrictions have since been amended to being allowed to shower and using the toilet. To conserve our energy nurses use the wheelchair to wheel us in and out of toilet. The restrictions were implemented at first to minimise us from secretly exercising.

Anorexia is not just about vainity, and not about "loss of appetite", eating and food and recovery not just about medicaition, macdonalds and kentucky. It is usually something deeper that the patient has to dig deep into in her/his own time.

A Little Less OCDed

It definitely feels weird starting to blog all over again. Can you believe it, the last entry i made about life (in Ryanryan Files, now retired) has been over a month ago???

The habit to blog is hard to kick. It's not a BAD habit, you see, but because i'm an OCDed sort of person, i just HAVE to blog every single day. It's something i force myself to, even if i'm exhausted that day and just want to hit the sack. I. Must. Blog! *cue Resident Evil music*

Well, i kind of gave up and was too exhausted to write much diary-ish sort of entries while i was in the ward (though i did PLENTY of musing-ish entries) for a whole muckload of reasons. Well, let's just say that i learnt quite alot about relationships (Ryanryan is single again!), and for quite awhile, the thought of tapping out an entry, which is so deeply entwined with strong emotions, proved too hard to do. It's easier zoning out and not needing to wrestle my mind into the present.

Plus, i quite literally SAW from what bits and pieces of entries i have the past few months coming from a mind that's pretty sick (compared to the one that's in place now). I quite literally go HOLY SHIT about how deeply entrenched i was in my symptoms a month ago, and yet i wasn't aware of it when i'm stuck neckdeep. I just CAN'T bring myself to flesh them out into full entries; it's like, i don't dare to put myself back in the EDed mindset (kind of like how an actor prepares for a role by pretending to be THAT role) in order to write it.

And after awhile, blogging just kind of fell into place in the grand scheme of things. It's an important aspect of life, but i don't need to force myself to do it just to tick something off my mental checklist.

Wait, this isn't going to mean that i'm going to disappear off into some virtual limbo. Of course i'm still going to write; it's one of the ways i cope when i'm out of the ward. But, like everything in life, it comes with moderation (dieting, exercise, toilet cleanliness, i'm looking at you!), and i'm not going to lose sleep just because i need to upload a post. I don't really know what made me less rigid; maybe i just learnt how to somehow deal with the perfectionism in my head by loosening up with food rules.

Check back everyday (edit: AFTER i get discharged from the ward and staying at home, now, i'm still in the ward!); i figure it's not too hard for me to do a post daily!

Starting From Scratch

It has been ages since i last touched the nice, comfortable keyboard of the home computer. Ok, maybe a month is not ages, but still, it feels good to be home!

Wait, perhaps you're wondering where the old entries all went. Well, they were shuttled off to a archive-y sort of blog. Let's just say that i'm feeling like i do need a new start and to kiss the past goodbye. Of course, it was a hard choice to, but i figure that i don't need them lying around and tempting me to return to the Evil Past.

What have i been up to in the past month? Well, Ryanryan had been away for treatment for his eating disorder. I've put alot of thought into restarting this blog, truth be told, while i was in there. I realized how easily i become triggered when i look back on those entries; you can pretty much say it's like looking back at your childhood and remembering how nice it is to scratch your butt in public.

Heh, i knew it, you're feeling itchy in your ass now.

It was a life-changing (pardon the corniness) experience for me. Not just being in the ward, mind you, but because i decided to give up the eating disorder. It's one of the toughest choices i made, and well, i would say that it was kind of crystallized by cutting my pro-ana band during a group therapy session. I realized it's not going to help me get any better. It wasn't as difficult as i imagined it would be. Just SNIP and it's gone. And i feel like a huge burden lifted off my chest.

That's not to say that i magically recovered; i'm still very much fighting the eating disorder. Heck, this is my 1st proper day out of the ward, with attempting normal eating without being supervised by nurses/therapists/doctors, and it's scarily thrilling.

But i choose to fight. And when (i believe i can; wait, i can't believe i'm going so sappy!) i WIN, it'd be a sweet victory, something that i've earned for myself.