I love my job.  Not many people can say that and so I feel lucky that I genuinely enjoy what I do.  I was devastated at the thought of having to take time off for treatment after being diagnosed with anorexia. Since returning from a career break, in 2015, I had not had a single day off sick.  The prospect of 20 weeks away very nearly saw me decide against the recommended treatment programme. But thankfully I had the sense to rationalise that it would be the wiser decision in the long term, if it meant I would return as a stronger version of myself and better able to maximise my potential.

The time has flown by and it was absolutely the right decision. There is no way that I would have come as far as I have in terms of recovery had I chosen the alternative once a week CBT session, alongside continuing to work.  I’m not yet ‘recovered’ and need to be open and honest about this with myself and those around me so that I can be accountable for continued progress in the coming months.  I am however, definitely that stronger version of myself that I promised to return to work as.  And so as this return looms imminently, I am looking forward to showcasing my renewed vitality.  I want to thank my colleagues for their understanding and unwavering support, for not judging me and being patient whilst I put myself back together.  I am excited to show them that this girl has her shit back together and then some, and I plan to make (and eat) the mother of all cakes to mark the occasion!

I feel weird though and I’ve been trying to figure out why.  Of course, it is to be expected that I will be apprehensive after such a long time away.  It’s like that Monday morning feeling one hundred fold.  But it’s not seeing everyone again. It’s not trying to remember my passwords.  It’s not ploughing through the thousands of emails.  It’s not taking my first case back on. No, there is something else behind this curious feeling and I think I’ve fathomed what it is.  I feel vulnerable.  I feel armour less.  I’ve lost my comforter.  That 10 mile run at 4am that set me up ready to take on whatever stress the working day threw at me has gone.  That ‘safe’ breakfast at 11am every day has gone.  Of course, there will be a breakfast (at actual breakfast time) and regular snacks and lunch to follow.  But those rigid rules about what I ate and when, and the will power with which I refused biscuits, cakes and sausage rolls, gave me a sense of control; they were critical squares in the patchwork of my security blanket.  What if I don’t achieve the targets I set myself in a day?  What if I feel like I’ve said the wrong thing to a colleague?  What if I think people don’t like me? I previously knew how to manage these feelings through food restriction and exercise.  I can’t punish myself anymore by not allowing myself to have the hot chocolate that I fancy before bed or that wine at a weekend. I can’t squeeze in a HIIT session when I get home to release the tension.  Well actually, I could; these coping strategies are still there at the back of the wardrobe but if I want to continue on an upward recovery trajectory, I can’t allow myself to use them anymore and that scares me.  Sure, I learned new strategies; I can take my thoughts to court, I can act opposite, I can use a grounding technique.  So far I’ve only learned to apply these in the context of home life.  I’ve not yet tested them in the workplace and I’m nervous about how it will go.

I’ve discovered a side to myself through treatment that I had forgotten was in there.  I have a new found love of reading fiction novels before bed.  I’ve remembered how to be silly and dance around the kitchen (insert nod to my new found BFF and our morning ritual of shaking our thang to the same song, at the same time in our respective homes).  My home is now beautifully adorned with my lovingly crafted clay ‘pieces’.  These are key ingredients for continued recovery but throw five full time working days into the mix and it is going to take additional effort to ensure that these crucial building blocks stay firmly fixed in place.

As I keep being reminded by the clinicians who have been pivotal in my recovery progress to date, I am not yet fully weight restored and therefore not yet out of the danger zone in terms of eating disorder cognitions.  And so I remain on a restorative meal plan and will also have this to incorporate within my working day.  My 8:30am breakfast banquet will not be quite so easy to facilitate at my desk!

There is no doubt that I am physically stronger, the brain fog has gone, I can concentrate, my memory is better functioning and there is even some twinkle back in my eyes.  I am therefore confident that the part of me responsible for getting the job done will be returning just as capable of doing the job, if not more so.  But I’m taking with me a shy new girl who has just surrendered her tattered old comfort cloth. She’s brave that’s for sure and she’s determined but she’s never had a job before and she’s a bit scared.  Wish me luck!