once again, here i go....

once again i apologise for my lack of posts over the past months... the whole blogging thing certainly goes in waves. sometimes it seems too difficult to put things to words. since finishing my studying i have not been tempted to write anything of great length. of course there are project plans and media releases for work but that is about as far as i have achieved.

last week i watched 'wentworth' for the first time and tonight is the final of series one. while i was watching it, i suddenly felt the need to write...

here is what came out:

Watching an episode of Wentworth, a new television series set in a women’s prison following the story of a number of women highlighting the friendships, enemies and battles faced with living in an institutional facility. The frightening thing is that although it is a locked prison, it reminds me so much of my time in a therapeutic community where I received treatment for over two years.

The underlying sense of powerlessness, control and safety which is portrayed by the women brought back my experiences over the past eight years flooding back. Despite being locked away from society, there is safety living in an institution as sicking that may sound. The routine, the rules, the people, the order and the psychological games. On the other hand, the games people play with others’ lives was harrowing- sometimes it felt like you were on suicide watch, waiting to walk around a corner to find someone dead, enduring late night meetings when someone took off in the snow after overdosing. It was unsettling, upsetting and surreal. Groups, power trips, bullying and scapegoating was present every day, and influenced the atmosphere of the community. The war between groups and gangs is constant, nobody gets anywhere and the cycle is vicious. 

    

This type of institutional living reflects living with anorexia nervosa. It is constant, powerful, controlling and nasty. It is cycle is vicious, the games it plays are harrowing and psychologically it determines life outcomes. Put all together and I cannot believe I lasted so long. I think after a period of time you learn the language, the language of ‘saying what you know ‘they’ want to hear.’ I think the scary thing is they believe you… I was so eager to get out of that environment; I was willing to lie my way out. I learnt to act in a certain way, say the right things and drink the right amount of fluid to maintain my weight. 

Once on my own out of the prying eyes, rules and opinions of others…things slipped quickly. I didn't need to maintain my weight and anorexia could have control once again.  I felt alone and sometimes I wasn't sure what I hated the most- the feeling of being alone or being controlled and locked away in an institution. It was very confusing and frightening to have no structure to my days and no one to monitor what I was eating, not having someone to say goodnight to and often went all day without speaking to anyone. I guess that was one of the nice things about living in an institution or community- there was always someone to sit and talk to, watch TV with or cry. It was safe and secure. Don't get me wrong I hated it and couldn't wait to leave most of the time but it is scary to leave a group of people who you have shared some very intimate details with about horrible times and events in your life.