The Rules

I was told on admission that I would need to gain at least 1.5kg a week to avoid being put on ‘bed rest’. If I regained the required amount I would be free to walk around the unit and even attend some light group exercise classes, which were mainly yoga-inspired and very low intensity. If I didn’t gain the required amount I would not be able to leave my bed for a week, except to go to the bathroom; shower; attend counselling; or to go to the dining room. I would have to attend both group and personal counselling sessions throughout each week. Also, the fact that I was vegetarian would not be respected, and I was expected to eat meat. Even though I explained that I had been a vegetarian for several years now, this was put down to be a means to lower my weight rather than for the true reasons behind my choice – which were being ethically against animal killing and cruelty. While I would be given some choice as to what I would be served, it was expected that I would eat everything on my plate. Each mealtime went for half-an-hour.  If we ate our entire meal prior to that time being completed we could leave. However, if we didn’t finish our food or refused to eat it, we had to stay at the table for the full amount of time. We would also be weighed once a week.

Of all of the rules, this last one seemed to be the most anxiety-inducing. We would have to line up in the main upper hallway on the morning of our day to be weighed (what was it with me having to line up with other girls?). Some found methods to cheat the system, though the nurses did check us for weights in our pockets. The lead up to this day was also particularly stressful the closer that each girl came to their goal weight, as if they were meeting their weight targets, they were allowed to temporarily leave the hospital to have home visits. It was on my first week of bedrest – which we all inevitably experienced due to weight plateaus – that I discovered how much I loved the hospital’s floaty light green pyjama sets. This became my signature daily loungewear – which I could change with another freshly laundered pair at any time – while an inpatient. It almost felt right having a uniform as it felt a little like being in prison. On one of Nanna’s visits while on bedrest she gave me a cross-stitch kit in order to help keep me entertained whilst not being able to escape my bed. I was so thankful to her for buying that for me, and I still have that completed cross-stitch, which is now framed and remains precious to me. B also brought things in for me, including beautiful notes, letters and cards that she’d personally hand-written. It was when I reached 42kg – after regaining 6kg – and one of the mothers commented to me how thin I was that I suddenly saw the extent of my thinness. I went by myself to the bathroom after our chat and really looked at myself in the full-length mirror, and cried. I wasn’t crying over the weight gain or how thin I still was; I was crying over how close I had gotten to death.

While I stubbornly resisted eating meat for the first few meals, I eventually relented after multiple times of having to sit at the table after most of the others had left. I had to disassociate from what I was eating; though I have to say that I grew to enjoy the spaghetti bolognese and the turkey with salads. I also loved the desserts that they served. The quality was so high that I think we may have been given the best food in the hospital. What I didn’t love were the counselling sessions. Group or singular, there were too many things that I did not want to share with the counsellors, psychologists, and psychiatrists. I felt that their questioning of everything was an invasion into my privacy and my thoughts. I also thought that they were over-analytical and impersonal in their manner, and asked silly questions: ‘So, why did you choose vegemite for your toast this morning instead of peanut butter?’. I had wished that we were given counselling on how to be healthy in our bodies: how to gain weight by gaining lean muscle and not just fat; how to focus on being fit rather than being thin; how to love our changing bodies. However, I found that this was not the focus of any of the counselling sessions that I attended. I also felt as I gained more and more weight that I was just being fattened up like a Christmas turkey. We were not allowed to lift any weights during our exercise sessions to allow muscle gains.