Anorexia Nervosa and The Blue Algae Bloom
Without Prejudice
Look at the picture and feel the serenity, the lush Moreton Bay. The sun is shining and it's 7am, gulls swoop on the water and three pelicans strut the sand bar this morning. Sometimes you just have to take time out of your life, step back and breathe in the bigger picture. My vista of sun, sea and sky stretches out wide in front of me. Mother nature at her best holding her loving arms wide and saying step into beauty, my beauty.
The beach front houses are old and weathered in grey timber shingle or brick. Faces solidly turned to the sea and defying, wind, and salt and sea air. Houses that are solid and stood the test of time, Queenslanders, used to harsh conditions, used to hard times of drought and flood. Queenslanders are a staunch lot and love this game called Rugby, Barracking for the Broncos is a given.
State of Origin match nights are almost holy, no interruptions, just a snack and a watching of the game and cheering at the right bits.The wearing of a QLD sweater is a given, even if like me you have no clue to the game and probably never will. So is drinking, swearing and throwing insults at the Ref. Pretty much like soccer then, as in Leeds United and AFL, Collingwood.
There is a stoicism to the Queenslanders, a stoicism born of extremes, a dry laconic wit, a down home country feel. When you come up from down south and a big city you feel inclined to snap your fingers with impatience at Customer Service done slowly. Or at traffic that takes its time and meanders.
Within six weeks if you stay here you will no longer snapping your fingers with impatience. At the same time as you become acclimatised to the weather, your city ways disappear also. And you relax into nature and if you are lucky like me you are also working. I write for at least 6 hours a day and have to block my ears to be able to write.
I wear headphones now but I tried blue tack which was fabulous for sound deadening but stuck to my hair, cotton wool didn't block off enough sound, so comfortable headphones are the answer. When I am writing I have to let the outside world fall away and be in the "Zone". Steven King at first when he is writing turns on loud rock music.
He says in his book that he first started writing by sitting in their family trailer, toilet. With a typewriter perched on his knees and typing furiously fast as it was the only place he could "block" himself away. Agatha Christie too would hoik herself to a Hotel for 3 weeks and do nothing but write. Taking breaks only for meals. that was when she realised she was a writer.
I don't pretend that I am anywhere near as good a writer as those two famous people, I just like to write. About my life, some of which I am proud of and some not. But I feel compelled to write, now, as there is no stopping the flow and things become clearer here, in the brightness. I will always want to Winter in Queensland.
Agatha Christie became a writer simply because her and her husband were broke. She had to write to get paid. I think hubby was out of work after being demobbed from the army. Before that time Agatha was writing frothy pieces that were more for her own pleasure. She states that was was so jealous when her Sister was published and Agatha wasn't. She's quite honest about her reaction.
So solitary and zoning out all part of writing and if I can add sea, sand, sun and good company as in my baby Sister, Helen's family, all the better. I can exercise, run on the beach, take breaks by wandering down to the water. Throw a stick for the little black dog, Jesse, who races into the water to get it and runs back tail wagging. She's a coffee thief and if I am not careful she will drink my coffee as soon as I turn my back.
The mudflats and sand bars are caffe au lait in colour, today, edgy white caps ruffling the foam. Every day is a different vista and I forget what it looks like in Summer. There are times here where a blue algae blooms, ( Lyngbya ) on the water and the council puts up signs stating, "Stay Away". it's toxic, smells like raw sewage. It kills fish and is a known carcinogen someone said. No one goes near the blue algae, or bluebottles or jellyfish.
I have left my biggest problems down in Melbourne. I tend to get over involved with my childrens lives and I do not want to be. I can do what I want now after years of being like an over enthusiastic sheperd to my kids. They don't need it, I don't need it. I learned that at Camp Eden. Yvette my 2nd oldest has always been a bit "Highly Strung".
Put that down as a "Lot Of Work"
Even as a baby she was unhappy, fretful. Turned out she was allergic to all dairy and once she was on solid food she was better. She was always tiny, petite, we called her even as a baby the "stick Insect" and Deb her older Sister by one year, called her "Gick".
She was tiny, tiny arms, tiny legs, always slender and straight from toddler a picky eater. She would go hungry rather than eat. She would hang her head in moodiness at 2 and shake her head at everything she was offered.
She was at a child psychologist by the time she was 10. She went for a year and gained an enormous amount out of it. Turned out she was a pessimist and jealous of her older sister as she thought we liked her better. We didn't, although I had to relearn as a Mother to connect with her and it started with stuffed toys and books and we went on from there.
At 15, she was a little chubby, tiny bit, she was on the pill for her painful menses and acted all innocent when she realised it also had the benefit of birth control. She was a showy rebel who wore pounds of makeup, dressed however she wanted and hung with the "low wallers" at School. She dyed her hair "Billy Idol" white and stuck it up in the middle like a white mohawk.
Then she met Simon who was 13 and we had 2 rebels without causes on our hands. It seems very fitting that they met up in detention at Coomoora High School and he worshipped her and she him. No one could separate them after a while and by 18, she had a son to Simon. 2 weeks later her youngest Sister died. Yvette went into a tailspin of massive proportions, even for her. She became self destructive.
One day I heard Deb scream and I ran into the lounge room and Yvette was there standing in front of the heater, wrapped only in a towel.
"Mum. she's anorexic", Deb said and burst into tears.
Yvette remained calm, unmoving as if glad she had been caught out. I looked at her knees jutting out like balls on pins of legs. I saw the arms that up to now had been covered in baggy sweaters and legs covered in jeans and I wanted to throw up suddenly, in fear.
I asked her if she was using any sort of drug and she said,
"No"
Years later she told me what it was like to be anorexic and have an eating disorder. She said it was a control thing, if she could control her weight, she could control her life. Her Father and her had a broken relationship. And they had once been close. She wanted to be "perfect", like Debbie. Debbie was certainly not perfect, nor has she ever tried to be.
Deb has all the traits of the eldest child. Mature, responsible. Yvette had all the triats of the 2nd child, a middle child, a rebel. She was attention seeking and she loved to shock. She was great bodied and pretty and she could rock an outfit and she knew it. She was narciistic also.
So when anorexia showed up in her life she liked the control and attention it gave her and after a while it becomes habit. She said that after a while and you are thin enough, the brain takes over form the body and even when you are hungry, the brain will not allow you to eat. She said,
"You look at food and you want it, you are dying to eat it. And then a voice in your brain says No. it looks dry. It looks like it will choke you, be dry going down and stick in your throat"
and she went down to 37 kilos and we took her to the Doctor's. He said if she lost 1 more kilo she would be hospitalised.
Her face looked like a skeletor mask. All jutting cheekbones and big eyes. She dealt with it for years and years and finally she had counselling for issues in her life. Her life began again, Yvette was stubborn and was always going to do it the hard way. Luckily she took the counselling and learned to relax and breathe and not stress as much.
She found that if she ate breakfast, she could eat all day. If she didn't her body would "forget to eat", just simply forget and she would feel no hunger at all and just look at food. Her Doctor told her to eat one steamed dim sim. just one, cut it up if she had to but just eat one and start the stomach stretching.
She said it hurt, when she ate and even a tiny bit of dim sim would bring on pain and she said she could feel her stomach stretching and it was a bit painful. But she persisted and persisted. The one thing I pinned my hopes on was that I knew she liked food. She liked potato cakes and dim sims and peanut butter and we could get 3 chocolate milkshakes into her per day when things were critical.
She had to sip them slowly through a straw and only a few sips at a time, letting her stomach stretch a little bit, knock her out to get her to sleep. As sleep and rest is what she lacked. She can still get a little anorexic when she is stressed. She can be OCD and border line personality as well a little but she functions very well now for a single mother of 7. 3 boys are off her hands now and she only has the 14, 8, 3 and 1 year old boys for most of the time.
She has the body of a girl but it's firm and she works at it. She will never be out of shape Yvette, her compulsive nature would never allow it.
Look at the picture and feel the serenity, the lush Moreton Bay. The sun is shining and it's 7am, gulls swoop on the water and three pelicans strut the sand bar this morning. Sometimes you just have to take time out of your life, step back and breathe in the bigger picture. My vista of sun, sea and sky stretches out wide in front of me. Mother nature at her best holding her loving arms wide and saying step into beauty, my beauty.
The beach front houses are old and weathered in grey timber shingle or brick. Faces solidly turned to the sea and defying, wind, and salt and sea air. Houses that are solid and stood the test of time, Queenslanders, used to harsh conditions, used to hard times of drought and flood. Queenslanders are a staunch lot and love this game called Rugby, Barracking for the Broncos is a given.
State of Origin match nights are almost holy, no interruptions, just a snack and a watching of the game and cheering at the right bits.The wearing of a QLD sweater is a given, even if like me you have no clue to the game and probably never will. So is drinking, swearing and throwing insults at the Ref. Pretty much like soccer then, as in Leeds United and AFL, Collingwood.
There is a stoicism to the Queenslanders, a stoicism born of extremes, a dry laconic wit, a down home country feel. When you come up from down south and a big city you feel inclined to snap your fingers with impatience at Customer Service done slowly. Or at traffic that takes its time and meanders.
Within six weeks if you stay here you will no longer snapping your fingers with impatience. At the same time as you become acclimatised to the weather, your city ways disappear also. And you relax into nature and if you are lucky like me you are also working. I write for at least 6 hours a day and have to block my ears to be able to write.
I wear headphones now but I tried blue tack which was fabulous for sound deadening but stuck to my hair, cotton wool didn't block off enough sound, so comfortable headphones are the answer. When I am writing I have to let the outside world fall away and be in the "Zone". Steven King at first when he is writing turns on loud rock music.
He says in his book that he first started writing by sitting in their family trailer, toilet. With a typewriter perched on his knees and typing furiously fast as it was the only place he could "block" himself away. Agatha Christie too would hoik herself to a Hotel for 3 weeks and do nothing but write. Taking breaks only for meals. that was when she realised she was a writer.
I don't pretend that I am anywhere near as good a writer as those two famous people, I just like to write. About my life, some of which I am proud of and some not. But I feel compelled to write, now, as there is no stopping the flow and things become clearer here, in the brightness. I will always want to Winter in Queensland.
Agatha Christie became a writer simply because her and her husband were broke. She had to write to get paid. I think hubby was out of work after being demobbed from the army. Before that time Agatha was writing frothy pieces that were more for her own pleasure. She states that was was so jealous when her Sister was published and Agatha wasn't. She's quite honest about her reaction.
So solitary and zoning out all part of writing and if I can add sea, sand, sun and good company as in my baby Sister, Helen's family, all the better. I can exercise, run on the beach, take breaks by wandering down to the water. Throw a stick for the little black dog, Jesse, who races into the water to get it and runs back tail wagging. She's a coffee thief and if I am not careful she will drink my coffee as soon as I turn my back.
The mudflats and sand bars are caffe au lait in colour, today, edgy white caps ruffling the foam. Every day is a different vista and I forget what it looks like in Summer. There are times here where a blue algae blooms, ( Lyngbya ) on the water and the council puts up signs stating, "Stay Away". it's toxic, smells like raw sewage. It kills fish and is a known carcinogen someone said. No one goes near the blue algae, or bluebottles or jellyfish.
I have left my biggest problems down in Melbourne. I tend to get over involved with my childrens lives and I do not want to be. I can do what I want now after years of being like an over enthusiastic sheperd to my kids. They don't need it, I don't need it. I learned that at Camp Eden. Yvette my 2nd oldest has always been a bit "Highly Strung".
Put that down as a "Lot Of Work"
Even as a baby she was unhappy, fretful. Turned out she was allergic to all dairy and once she was on solid food she was better. She was always tiny, petite, we called her even as a baby the "stick Insect" and Deb her older Sister by one year, called her "Gick".
She was tiny, tiny arms, tiny legs, always slender and straight from toddler a picky eater. She would go hungry rather than eat. She would hang her head in moodiness at 2 and shake her head at everything she was offered.
She was at a child psychologist by the time she was 10. She went for a year and gained an enormous amount out of it. Turned out she was a pessimist and jealous of her older sister as she thought we liked her better. We didn't, although I had to relearn as a Mother to connect with her and it started with stuffed toys and books and we went on from there.
At 15, she was a little chubby, tiny bit, she was on the pill for her painful menses and acted all innocent when she realised it also had the benefit of birth control. She was a showy rebel who wore pounds of makeup, dressed however she wanted and hung with the "low wallers" at School. She dyed her hair "Billy Idol" white and stuck it up in the middle like a white mohawk.
Then she met Simon who was 13 and we had 2 rebels without causes on our hands. It seems very fitting that they met up in detention at Coomoora High School and he worshipped her and she him. No one could separate them after a while and by 18, she had a son to Simon. 2 weeks later her youngest Sister died. Yvette went into a tailspin of massive proportions, even for her. She became self destructive.
One day I heard Deb scream and I ran into the lounge room and Yvette was there standing in front of the heater, wrapped only in a towel.
"Mum. she's anorexic", Deb said and burst into tears.
Yvette remained calm, unmoving as if glad she had been caught out. I looked at her knees jutting out like balls on pins of legs. I saw the arms that up to now had been covered in baggy sweaters and legs covered in jeans and I wanted to throw up suddenly, in fear.
I asked her if she was using any sort of drug and she said,
"No"
Years later she told me what it was like to be anorexic and have an eating disorder. She said it was a control thing, if she could control her weight, she could control her life. Her Father and her had a broken relationship. And they had once been close. She wanted to be "perfect", like Debbie. Debbie was certainly not perfect, nor has she ever tried to be.
Deb has all the traits of the eldest child. Mature, responsible. Yvette had all the triats of the 2nd child, a middle child, a rebel. She was attention seeking and she loved to shock. She was great bodied and pretty and she could rock an outfit and she knew it. She was narciistic also.
So when anorexia showed up in her life she liked the control and attention it gave her and after a while it becomes habit. She said that after a while and you are thin enough, the brain takes over form the body and even when you are hungry, the brain will not allow you to eat. She said,
"You look at food and you want it, you are dying to eat it. And then a voice in your brain says No. it looks dry. It looks like it will choke you, be dry going down and stick in your throat"
and she went down to 37 kilos and we took her to the Doctor's. He said if she lost 1 more kilo she would be hospitalised.
Her face looked like a skeletor mask. All jutting cheekbones and big eyes. She dealt with it for years and years and finally she had counselling for issues in her life. Her life began again, Yvette was stubborn and was always going to do it the hard way. Luckily she took the counselling and learned to relax and breathe and not stress as much.
She found that if she ate breakfast, she could eat all day. If she didn't her body would "forget to eat", just simply forget and she would feel no hunger at all and just look at food. Her Doctor told her to eat one steamed dim sim. just one, cut it up if she had to but just eat one and start the stomach stretching.
She said it hurt, when she ate and even a tiny bit of dim sim would bring on pain and she said she could feel her stomach stretching and it was a bit painful. But she persisted and persisted. The one thing I pinned my hopes on was that I knew she liked food. She liked potato cakes and dim sims and peanut butter and we could get 3 chocolate milkshakes into her per day when things were critical.
She had to sip them slowly through a straw and only a few sips at a time, letting her stomach stretch a little bit, knock her out to get her to sleep. As sleep and rest is what she lacked. She can still get a little anorexic when she is stressed. She can be OCD and border line personality as well a little but she functions very well now for a single mother of 7. 3 boys are off her hands now and she only has the 14, 8, 3 and 1 year old boys for most of the time.
She has the body of a girl but it's firm and she works at it. She will never be out of shape Yvette, her compulsive nature would never allow it.
