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PrologueThe Meeting October 1978 ‘I don’t love you anymore Ainslie.’ I was gripped with fear that shattered my consciousness and instantly I heard the blood pulsating in my ears like waves crashing on the shore. Only I wasn’t on a beach or even near the ocean, but in a cold, clinical mediation room with my husband and two counsellors. ‘But I’m better,’ I managed to reply. ‘I am putting on weight. It’s okay now.’ From my peripheral vision, through a haze, I noticed my counsellors edge forward on their seats, waiting eagerly for Tim’s reply, almost willing him to convince me of his decision. ‘No, Ainslie, it is no use. I don’t love you,’ Tim answered. The counsellors gave a satisfactory nod, as if to confirm his answer. The pounding in my ears, which was now deafening, continued. I was dizzy and numb. I could not speak; all I could manage was pitiful animal-like snorts. This could not be happening… This man I had loved and cherished for six years could not be saying this to me. It was all wrong; there had been some dreadful mistake! My eyes were dry; I could not shed a tear. Was I still breathing…? ‘See, she’s not even upset. She can’t even cry!’ I heard one counsellor exclaim. During my stay in hospital, I had always been intimidated by this large, domineering woman, but now this fear was replaced by a fierce dislike towards her, for voicing such a callous remark and I thought, ‘She is a trained counsellor who should recognize the signs of acute emotional trauma. Why she can’t understand that I am barely functioning. I can’t cry.’ In desperation I struggled. ‘Well I’ll kill myself then.’ I am still embarrassed by this remark. It must have sounded pathetic, but I had indeed been placed in a pitifully unexpected situation. But nothing was going to change Tim’s mind, which I believe had been made up several weeks before this meeting, only he had not had the courage to tell me. The meeting closed abruptly. After all, what else was left to be said? I got out of the wheelchair and was left to shuffle back on my own to the bed, which had been my home for the past three months. I felt totally abandoned and needing sympathy. I phoned my sister Anne, who lived near the hospital. As I was waiting for an answer, Tim passed by on his way out of the hospital. For an instant the sorrowful look on his face gave me a tiny glimmer of hope that he would come up to me and say ‘sorry’ and that he hadn’t meant what he had said. But then his expression changed and he looked at me as if I was a stranger before he left the ward, abandoning me halfway through my treatment. I had a strong desire to run and cling to him and beg him to love me again, but even in my vulnerable state, I knew I needed to hold on to the little dignity that I had left. To my amazement, I found the strength to control this urge. Did my sister and my parents know of this meeting? Did Tim’s parents know? Had the whole meeting been staged like a play with all the actors knowing their lines? All but me? What had I done to deserve this? Once I had been a confident, happily married young woman. Once I had a career. Why had I destroyed all this? Why had I inflicted this traumatic destruction to our relationship? What had happened? I had fallen victim. Victim to the slimmers’ disease, Anorexia Nervosa and Bulimia. Chapter OneIdyllic Childhood - 1960s My childhood was happy, peaceful and secure, and my memories of it are treasured. I was the youngest of three girls, with my sisters Jennifer and Anne being six and five years older respectively. I considered myself to be a bit of a tomboy. Although I loved my dolls, especially my teddy bear, I preferred to play outdoors climbing trees. My teddy bear is probably older than me and sits on our bed now with the addition of others. My fierce love for animals instigated my ‘little girl’s playhouse’, which was a small caravan that had been once used on family camping trips, to be transformed into a ‘Veterinarian’s Clinic’. Every mouse or bird that I saved from my cat would inevitably be ‘treated’ in my clinic, and if they survived, they were released. I recall two wild baby ducks arriving in my possession, which my father brought home to me from a farm where he was building. I reared these cute baby ducklings and when they were almost fully grown, I released them to a large park inhabited by many ducks. I remember feeling a sense of pleasure as I watched these two small ducks swim away, hesitantly at first, then with more confidence, to freedom. At age five I learned to play the piano, which was a stark contrast to my outdoor activities, and I recall at about the age of ten, playing in competitions which I did not enjoy, because I would become very nervous before, and during, my performances. However I did enjoy singing and I was a dedicated member of the school choir. I was sports orientated, excelled in athletics, played tennis in the summer and was usually near the top of the primary school tennis ladder. Inevitably, many challenge games were played and of course the winning opponent would take his or her place further up the rung of the ladder. These matches, which created much excitement for the tennis enthusiasts, were played during morning and lunch breaks. During the winter months I played hockey, which involved two afternoons of training per week and a Saturday competition game. As I resided very close to the primary school, I ran home for a quick lunch and ran back again to enjoy the rest of the lunch hour playing sport. I enjoyed swimming for leisure, but I was not a confident swimmer and found the water far too cold to stay in for a lengthy period. But my true passion was horse riding and although I never actually owned a horse, I looked after two horses during my last year of primary school and throughout my high school years. I enjoyed pony club and competed in equestrian events and shows, for which I trained hard. This wonderful busy world of horses took first place in all my sports. Because I was a devoted animal lover, I dreamed of living on a farm so that I could have many pets and horses. I desperately wanted a dog to love and care for and to also go riding with me. Rufty, whom I named, came into my life when I was about thirteen. I later learned that he had wandered away from the farm where he belonged, and I gratefully claimed him as my own. I loved that dog very much and indeed he went everywhere with me, including riding. But eventually he was claimed and went back to his real home on the farm and I remember being very upset. Rufty returned a few times after that, and each time it was harder for me to say goodbye. I still do not know why I was never allowed to have a dog, but for some reason I wasn’t, so I accepted that. My father, who owned a reputable building business, was a kind, prominent gentleman who worked tirelessly to improve the establishment and spirit of our small community of Rakaia, which is in the South Island of New Zealand, one hour’s drive from Christchurch. I was always very proud of my father as a caring family man who was President or Secretary of various committees. His voluntary commitments as a Justice of the Peace also kept him busy. A proud man, Gordon McGeorge was well known locally, of which I was reminded on numerous occasions, especially during my nursing training. I felt privileged to be his daughter and when patients read my name badge as Nurse McGeorge, it was with great pleasure I confirmed that I was indeed Gordon McGeorge’s daughter. ‘Always be proud of yourself, Ainslie,’ my father would say. ‘Walk tall and proud with your head held high,’ he would add. In 1980 Dad was awarded the Queen’s Award for community service. This was a great honour for my father and a memorable occasion in my parents’ life. They flew to Wellington, which is the capital of New Zealand, to receive the award from The Prime Minister. There is a lovely, large photograph on a wall in our living room now, that commemorates this treasured moment. I was equally proud of my mother, Nancy, a gentle soul who, like my father, enjoyed commitments to various organisations. She was also librarian of our small local library, which opened for a few hours each week. I remember on one occasion, when my mother accompanied my father as wife of the President of the primary school committee, her standing on an outdoor stage in front of the entire school. She was dressed in a pink suit and wore a hat to match, which was considered very fashionable at that time. This well chosen outfit emphasized her regal appearance. My friends said how beautiful she was and I was filled with such pride that I thought I would burst. At that impressionable age, I thought of both my parents, standing up on that stage, as famous people. Our family attended church every Sunday and my mother would play the organ. As my father’s business provided sufficient financial security for our family, my mother was able to enjoy being a full-time wife and mother. She had a gift for sewing, and also spent many hours in the kitchen, cooking beautiful meals. There was always an abundance of homemade cakes and biscuits to be enjoyed. Mum’s specialty was her famous pavlova, decorated with fresh cream and fruit. As I became more independent during my high school years, Mum enjoyed working part-time, but was always there for me when I arrived home from school. My high school years were difficult, because I needed to study very hard to achieve the same results in tests and examinations as my peers did with apparent ease. My mother seemed to place a huge emphasis on my academic achievements and it worried me that I would not be able to live up to them. When I was studying for the School Certificate, both my sisters had succeeded in obtaining their desired professional qualifications. Anne qualified as a Dental Nurse and Jennifer, my eldest sister, had completed a Master of Arts degree with honours. Little did I know then, she would come to play a major role in aiding my full recovery many years later. My parents were quite strict regarding the amount of work I contributed to the smooth running of the beautiful, large home which Dad had built when I was five. I loved our home, situated on a third of an acre among immaculately kept gardens and lawns. It was a credit to my parents, as they had designed the landscaping. Every Saturday morning I worked three hours in the house. Often the lawn mowing was my responsibility, becoming a weekly task in the summer. This also took me three hours to complete. I also mowed my grandmother’s lawns, which only took me an hour, and I was paid ten shillings, the equivalent of one dollar. At this age it gave me great pleasure to please my parents. I thrived on routine and enjoyed being organised. Born six weeks premature, I was always a skinny child. Between the ages of twelve and thirteen, I grew ten centimeters in one year, which left me with a mild thoracic scoliosis, but did not cause me any concern until much later in life. My rapid growth during early puberty gave me a gangly appearance, so I looked forward to developing. When I did fill out in all the right places, I felt very comfortable and pleased with my body. This was a contrasting reaction to many girls, who dislike the womanly changes in their bodies. This in turn can take them down the road of destruction in the form of anorexia. Although I was never beautiful or even pretty, I was content enough with my looks, although I always felt that if I were fat, or even slightly overweight, then my overall appearance would not be very appealing. I desperately wanted to grow my hair long, but my parents disagreed with this desire. I can recall on one occasion crying as a bowl was placed over my short hair and it was snipped off around it. Still, I was very happy and even had boyfriends. I enjoyed listening to pop music, playing my guitar and singing in my immaculately tidy room with every ornament in its correct place at the exact angle that I chose. I can recall quite clearly lying in bed, ready for sleep. I could see that a horse ornament was not quite centered on my dressing table. I got out of bed and repositioned it to meet with my approval before I was content to sleep. I insisted on perfection and I enjoyed the feeling of being in control. To this day, I still like tidiness. My social life was full and active. I had many friends during high school, but my special friend was Ashley. Every school holidays and several weekends for three years, we would stay at each other houses, which were one and a half hours apart by car. Ashley, who I thought was beautiful, lived on six hundred acres near Mayfield, which is a short distance from the ski field of Mt Hutt. Ashley owned a horse, so in the longer school holidays we would transport our horses so they would be with us at our homes. On one very exciting school holiday, we rode the distance between our homes over two days, staying at a friend’s small farm just outside Ashburton overnight. We were very apprehensive about how our horses would behave because we had to cross the Ashburton River Bridge. This bridge is about 300 meters long and our horses were not familiar with busy traffic or bridges. So we planned the crossing at the end of the trip, because we knew our horses would be tiring. Our apprehension was short-lived as they behaved beautifully. This trip was an unforgettable experience and a huge achievement in our young lives. I have a photograph in my childhood album capturing that special moment after we had safely crossed the bridge. I was very dedicated to horses, riding, shows and events, which took up the majority of my spare time. Ashley and I also completed a Children’s Riding Instructor’s Course, which ran over five days during the school holidays. This was a very enjoyable but demanding time, and we stayed in Ashburton with our horses, which were agisted at the showgrounds where the course was held. I had the advantage of being very fit and athletic and while I was preparing my horse for events that required a great deal of endurance, I would dismount during a ride and jog alongside my horse so that I could improve my fitness. I enjoyed this daily strenuous regime after school, which became top priority in my busy schedule. I loved the feeling of being in full control of my mind and body. My school study was tackled after the evening meal and by mutual agreement with my parents, I was permitted a half hour of television viewing before I went to bed, then I would either study again or write in my diary. Incidentally, I wrote an account of my day in my large diary every night before I went to sleep throughout my high school years and I regret that I did not keep them. Just before I turned fifteen, I experienced a great deal of pain in my lower back. X-rays confirmed a congenital abnormality in one of my lower vertebra. I recall having a general anesthetic and my back being manipulated, which gave me long-term relief. Fortunately I was studying hard at this time, so my horse riding was already temporarily on hold, although I still fed and groomed my horse every day. A few months before I turned sixteen in May 1969, my sister Anne married David and they lived in Christchurch, which is a one-hour’s drive over the Rakaia River. The bridge is quite significant to New Zealanders, being one mile and one tenth long - 1.8 kilometres. It was opened in 1939 and was the longest bridge in the Southern Hemisphere at the time of its construction. David was a high school teacher, but later went on to become a Doctor of Science. I remember Anne was on a reducing diet to improve her already neat figure, which I rather envied. She was attending ‘silhouette’ classes which involved exercises to tone muscles and assist in weight loss. I stayed with Anne and David in Christchurch a few times and I have a memory of Anne taking one spoonful of pudding only from David’s plate. I admired her for the willpower that this must have taken and I thought, ‘I could never be that strong.’ I did not realise then that, within a year, I would have even more willpower than Anne. Jennifer and Jack were married seven months after Anne and David at the end of 1969 and I was honoured to be Jennifer’s sole bridesmaid. She gave me a beautiful bracelet with ivory stones attached to each link. To this day I still wear and cherish this bracelet. When I was sixteen, and from then on, I would eat an egg only for breakfast and an apple at school for lunch. I would enjoy a small helping of the evening meal, except on a Friday or Saturday. This was because I always went to some social function or on a date, so my stomach had to be completely flat. I had to feel thin, so I was more comfortable with my body when I got ‘dressed up’ and went out. Even though I was slim, I wanted to do some exercises to improve my figure as Anne had done at ‘silhouette’. So each evening before my bath I would endure a strict exercise regime for twenty minutes, which consisted of stomach crunches, thigh exercises and various other gruelling manoeuvres to tighten my muscles in the hope of achieving an even slimmer body. I always tried to hold my abdominal muscles in tightly during my daily activities. I recall an incident in my last year of high school when a friend and I were getting ready to go out with our boyfriends. Denise was a very slightly built girl, and when I saw us in the mirror standing together, I was horrified how large, overweight and awkward I seemed to be compared to Denise, whose dainty frame gave me the impression that she was half my size. This comparison upset me considerably, even though I felt slim and was always being told how slender I was. How
was I to predict that my feelings and actions during the sixteenth year of my
life were the very beginning of my eating disorder? Slowly and surely it would
take over and manipulate my life over time, until it forcefully took full
control without mercy seven years later. Click on the cart below to purchase this book:
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