I took a real walk yesterday – almost entirely for the purpose of calorie-burning, but stunning. I walked out into the countryside, with nothing but 2 litres of diet coke, some epic music on my phone (Bonnie Tyler style epic), and my Kindle. I just skipped breakfast, charged my phone the most I could (up to about 20%) got dressed in the least hideous clothes I could find, went to the bathroom and left.
R.e. the ‘hideous clothes’ – no, it isn’t really the clothes’ fault. My body is not reacting well to food at all. Though I’m nearly past the ‘involuntary vomiting’ stage, I am bloated and swollen nearly all the time. My periods are still not back (I had one in February – my first for over a year, but nothing even resembling one recently), yet my breasts are swollen and sore. My stomach is nearly constantly distended, and my legs are retaining so much water you’d think they were preparing for a hosepipe ban… I was self-conscious, nearly too much so to even leave the house. But I did. And once I was out in the country, even walking mainly along roads (so as not to lose my bearings when my battery died!), there was barely a passerby to notice the state of my body. Just a few drivers, maybe one cyclist. All pre-occupied with their own lives.
I arrived first at a beautiful village – where I stopped for my first drink and sat a while on a bench. The sun was beating down – miraculously I didn’t get burnt, and in a mixed blessing I couldn’t find my sunglasses. This sounds crap, but means I didn’t get ‘goggle face’ from a day in the open. I relaxed a bit in a picturesque village, nearly invisible to passers by, then picked up my bag, put the music back on, and walked.
I sent a text to my partner, before I resumed, explaining where I was heading, and that my phone battery might well cut out. Danger of ‘mental health problems’ is that you can’t really decide to have an afternoon to yourself on a whim anymore… If you run out of signal, or decide not to reply to a text, you run the unfortunate – and embarrassing risk of being phoned in as a ‘missper’ (what the police call a ‘missing person’ – this convenient non-word saves them two syllables, and makes them sound like they speak in a language of their own.) A police car did drive past me as I was approaching the little village, and the same one drove back in the opposite direction as I was bent in a particularly unattractive position (bum in the air, back to the road, fumbling in a bag on the bench repacking to continue my trek – what a catch!).
Another funny phrase I once overheard some officers using was ‘Polac’; pronounced ‘Poe’ – as in Edgar Allan Poe, ‘Lack’ – as in not enough of something… I was always under the impression this was an American-style racist term for Eastern Europeans with strong accents (originates from something like ‘Polish-Accent’), so I was quite shocked! But then a friend of mine who works as a PCSO (community support officer) explained what it really means: ‘Police-Accident’ – a traffic collision involving a police car. Boring – but at least they weren’t just being casually racist.
Every time I see a police car in my local area now, I try and subtly hide, while at the same time looking to see if I’ve ‘met’ them before. I couldn’t see who was in the car that drove past me – it was a large 4×4 and the windows had sun reflecting from them that stopped me from peering in. I don’t like the idea of people who’ve seen me at my worst (mentally) driving past me when I am coping reasonable well – odd? I suppose it is a mixture of not wanting them to be saying ‘oh, there’s that anorexic girl we took the knives off that time – she seems happier’, and – particularly yesterday, as I was bloated like a pig, not wanting them to be thinking ‘oh look – the girl with anorexia is looking chubbier now. Glad she’s recovered.’… I can’t explain eloquently why this bothers me so much – I suppose it is because I want to be the one who decides when/if I’ve recovered, the one to finally apply that label to myself – based partly on my physical health but mainly on my mental health. I’m the only one inside my head – I don’t like the idea that people who aren’t can, and do, make judgements, however well meaning.
Anyway, the car was gone, and I trotted along up the road, the pavement disappeared as I reached a huge forest – so I took a chance on the ‘public footpath’ sign. And what a beautiful accident! I stumbled across an iron-age hill fort, with views across the countryside, butterflies, dragonflies, wild flowers – and a large herd of cows. It was a very small space that me and the cows shared – I walked within a few feet of them, by necessity. The field was large, but three quarters of it was taken up by a forbidding slope (probably part of the ancient fort’s defence) – so the herd grazed on the path. Cows really are quite large – and humbling – up close. Some of these even had horns… Glad I’m a vegetarian!
I took a right at a fork in the track, and returned to the road at the top of the hill – just to keep my bearings. I walked for hours, past ancient burial mounds, forests, wildlife, hills with incredible views of the country and the rivers – all on a summer’s day. And then, finally, arrived at the National Trust country park I had aimed for. It was absolutely worth the journey, miles of seemingly never-ending ancient woodland, and barely another human being in sight. I had burned calories – yes – but by the time I arrived at my destination, I realised I had also enjoyed myself. The walk had changed from being ‘let’s get thin’ to ‘let’s do something nice for myself’. Obviously physically demanding, but I felt peaceful, calm, and as I settled down to read my book – with no music, the phone ran out of battery just before I reached the cows, but I didn’t mind at all – I thought to myself that I might do this more often.
I parked on a bench, secluded about a mile into the estate, finished The Lost World – in a perfect setting, some or most of the trees must have been hundreds of years old themselves. The book, of course, did not disappoint. The diet coke was beautiful. The two large blisters on my heels were more than justified… I think I may head out again today – it is sunny again, and perhaps I will head in the opposite direction, to see what else I am missing out on! If I start to exercise for pleasure again, maybe it will help – a step to recovery. I do intend to get there one day.
anaanonymous 