All or Nothing

For those in recovery from an Eating Disorder you will know that there are ups and downs. There are the good days,the bad days and the days where we don't have a clue what voice we are listening to, be it the Eating Disorder or logic.

There's the cliche mantra of taking things a day at a time, a meal at a time.

We are told that if we have a bad day to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves down and that tomorrow is a chance to get back on track. 

We are given all of these tools and sayings to help us self soothe when we criticize and torment ourselves for slips, because a common trait for those with Anorexia is black and white thinking, all or nothing, perfectionists.

So it's hard when we slip to see it as just that, a slip.

It's hard when not all behaviors are gone to believe in recovery.

I know that, for me, my ideal recovery is one where Anorexia is gone completely, no trace left, no need for it, no niggling memory of it, no active behaviors.

So slips to me mean that I am failing, and that is where I am right now, trying to reign in the new slips.

I have been dreading writing this because, as previously mentioned, slips to me mean that I have failed, means that the 'all' in the 'all or nothing' logic is dangerously close, it means I'm balancing over a path that I never want to go down again, or even already a few steps down it. I have kept this quiet because I never wanted to utter the words 'I'm really struggling' ever again.

I never wanted to break the trust that I have worked so hard to build. 

But now I am uttering those words, because it's the reality and there is hope and learning in that.

The most frustrating thing in all this is the fact that I am happy, very happy, and yet here we are again. I realize that my slip comes from many triggers, the main one being anxious and aware of the unpredictability of all the good things in life. Not feeling secure and on edge that at any second all the things that have been built up can disappear, just like that, gone. The anxiety sits heavy and the more I try to look for something secure and safe the more I stumble across the safety of my Eating Disorder, it once again becomes my life line, it means that if I do lose the good things that I still have something to hold on to.

I do not recognize the person that I have become. I have gone from a girl that copes by using self destruction, a self destruction that I naively thought was invisible, to a girl that understood herself and almost liked the strength she felt, to a girl that reacts to triggers and is someone not very likeable. 

So please bear with me, I am trying to understand myself again, I'm trying to understand my slip and learn from it and I know I may not be that pleasant to be around at the moment but I am learning and adapting.

For those that are also clinging on to not letting the slips take them down onto a spiral, know that you are not alone in that. 

Know that if you are petrified about being too far into the 'all' path that it's not too late to pull yourself out, because even though it might be black or white. all or nothing, we forget that we still have a choice, and we forget that we have always asked too much of ourselves. 

It's always been too much to starve or purge our way to near death, it's always been too much to live by the rules we have created to try and ease some kind of burden, it's always been too much to cause ourselves the physical and mental pain that we have,  and it has always been too much to expect this to just go away over night.

There will be slips, there will be the bad days and there will be hard times, but it doesn't mean a fall down that rabbit hole again, it doesn't mean we are hopeless, it means we are human and we have a fight ahead of us, it means we have to cut ourselves some slack, breathe and, as always,  trust the process. 

It's going to be ok.

Strength

So it's Mental Health Awareness Day, and I wasn't going to write anything because I kind of begrudge there being just a day for raising awareness, but then I got called a 'Mental Health Blogger/Activist' and decided I would write the blog that has been in my head for a few days now. One that's been going over and over.

This one is not for those that suffer with Mental Health problems, but for those who have loved ones that do. Those that watch on from the side lines and feel helpless to the destruction. I can't promise you that I have the answers because everyone is different, I can't tell you what will help, but I can try to shed some light from my experience.

I know what it's like to watch someone that you love suffer and shrink in front of your eyes, it's heart breaking, and although you would move mountains to help there is little that you can actually do. 

The one thing that I can say, and it may seem impossible, but the one thing that I know that would of helped me, is to be a pillar of strength.

Now before I continue I would like to say that whatever I write I am not saying that my Mental Health problems were due to my Ex Husband, he did not cause my Anorexia, just as my Anorexia did not break down our marriage. 

We didn't survive my Eating Disorder because of the people we are, I coped by internalizing and he coped by expressing his anger, our personality's clashed and in the end we did not survive because we didn't fit together. We didn't belong.
I had an ED before I even met him but when a big event happened within our relationship I turned to self destruction because I blamed myself and it became worse, when things got so bad I would be approached with anger (which is understandable), but this anger made me feel even more of a failure so I began to hide my downfall, be secretive, lie, which just made things worse and fueled his anger. 

It was a viscous circle which not only encouraged the reasoning's for my Anorexia but also meant that we were stuck in a bubble of unhappiness. 

Being approached with anger made me feel like I wasn't trying hard enough, so I gave up even trying. It made me feel like a failure which fueled my self hate. In the end, when I was at my worst, I was told that I was no longer loved, having spoken to him since I know it was a desperate attempt at trying to make me realise that I was losing everything and needed to fight, but I was already trying and it achieved the opposite.

I believe that for someone to truly start on the recovery journey that THEY have to want it, no matter what actions you take, or kick starts you try to give. I know that it is so hard to not do anything when all you want to do is swoop in and take action, bargain, beg, plead, shout, but it needs to come from within THEM. The more you beg and plead the more guilt and pressure lays on their shoulders. There is something you can do though, what you CAN do is to be there, to not give up on them.

I truly believe that within every person that suffers there is a part of them that doesn't want to be this way. 

I know that on the days that I used to class as 'good days', the days were Anorexia called all the shots, I would go to bed feeling happy, feeling like I had done well, but I'd also have a part that cried as I fell asleep because I didn't want to feel like that anymore, because I so desperately didn't want to think or act in the way that I was, I so desperately wanted out even if I didn't feel ready to act on it yet.

Remember that, in the moments where you get so frustrated, where you just want to shake them and scream at them and tell them to stop it, that that part is in them too, apart from that part doesn't want to just shake themselves, that part of them wants to do so much worse so that they don't have to put everyone else through it as well, because they don't know how to make it stop, because they are just frustrated as you are and yet they know that it's only them that can fight.

Be a pillar of strength. 

Stand by them and let them know that you will never leave them in this fight. That you are in it together. That you wont pressurize them, or get angry, but you will be there for support, that you will never give up on the belief that they can get better. 

That in an unstable world they can trust that you will still be there. That you wont give up.

I know that this is asking a lot, because how can you stand by and watch some one dance with death so closely, but you just have to keep on believing that things will get better, believe in their strength, even if you can't see it, believe that it's in there and that they will find it.

Your unfaltering belief will be what strengthens them in the end. A spark of doubt can ignite the Eating Disorder more then you will ever know. 

 Your belief is valid, because people can and do get better, and then they can begin to be strong for themselves. I am very lucky I seem to have found someone that has already been a pillar of strength without even knowing, not because I have needed it, but by indirectly reminding me that right now I am strong enough to not need a pillar of strength, and that feels amazing.

Perspective

Perspective. 

Sometimes all you need is a bit of perspective, and sometimes that means time and space too.

The last few entries to this blog I've wondered why I am writing, what the point in writing this is, whats the aim. I've worried that I'm beginning to write stuff that has no value, but every time I wonder this I get a message from someone saying that it had helped in some kind of way. I guess thats the point, to help, to let people know that they aren't alone, to show a more realistic side to recovery, to show the everyday struggles and everyday triumphs, so that people know that blips don't have to be relapses, to know that at whatever stage things can be tough and at whatever stage things can get better, to show that even though people are far down the recovery line that there are still daily fights that people may not know about, to let people know that the fights can be won.

When I was ill I was surrounded by people that weren't getting better, had no interest in getting better and actually competed to see who could sink even further into destruction. I was sucked into a world where 'getting better' was either impossible no matter how hard you tried or it was weak and pathetic to want such a thing. I saw people reach out for help, relapse, be forced into treatment, relapse, try treatment for the millionth time and promise it was the last time, only to relapse. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that, we all have our own journeys, but being surrounded by that made it feel like I too would be trapped in the nightmare, in the suffocating, smothering, horrifying nightmare, forever.

I want people out there to know that there is hope.

That an Eating Disorder doesn't have to be a life sentence.

That even though, statistically, only 46% of sufferers will get better, that that is a past statistic, that next year it could be higher and YOU could be one of them.

That I will stand and be a voice for those that need to hear it, I will tell you that it CAN get better.

I remember my second admission, sitting in my hospital window, feeling utterly hopeless and broken, emailing someone very important to me, begging them to tell me that it gets better, that it goes away, that I didn't have to just learn how to cope with it, that it GOES AWAY, completley goes away. 

I had someone stand for me and be the voice that said it can get better, that the fight that I was entering would be worth it. I had someone be a light out of the darkness for me.

I was promised it could, but it depended on ME.

Only I had the control, the power and the strength to change, only I could decided when to say 'This ends now'. 

In saying all of this it would be hypocritical to say that I've got there, that it has all gone away for me, it hasn't, but I believe it can. I believe that I came very close for a few months, recently things have gotten tough but I know that it's just a tough patch, not a spiral, because thats what I've decided it is.

I don't know if it's because I have become more aware of my body, more conscious of how it looks and the space it fills, but my gremlin is giving me grief for it, and when I don't act on what my

gremlin says the bastard gets louder, so right now my gremlins giving me a bit of jip.

Both my head and my heart is convinced that acting on these thoughts is a bad idea and never going to happen, but my gremlin isn't so easily convinced. 

I have never had to fight so hard, because usually I would of just acted to silence the thoughts, and keep acting, now I am not doing that.

I am stronger then the gremlin, I have more to gain from not letting it win then I ever do from being sucked in again. I know this, logically, I know this.

I want people that are struggling to know that even though you may be surrounded by people that aren't getting better, or that don't want to, that you can, that people can and HAVE. 

I may be struggling but I feel no shame in saying that I am striving for a life that has no trace of my gremlin, and I believe I will get there, someday soon, because I realized that I have the control.

Maybe, for an illness that (for some) is so focused on having control, maybe its about perspective, instead of only being able to control you're self destruction start to control you're self nurture, and no matter how adamant you are that you don't deserve it, I promise you that YOU DO. 

You survived too.

I opened Pandora's box.

 This week I am moving house, and whilst packing I came across the box I keep with all my Inpatient memories in, from both admissions. This includes almost everything, cards sent from friends and family, journals I wrote whilst in there, food log, creative writing extracts, NHS letters, Weight charts, Care plans, CPA notes, Dr's notes, Hospital letters, Blood results, Keyworker notes.......everything. 

I must admit, tears were shed. At first, admittedly, because I saw all the different weights I have been, from low to high to lower to middle ect. I then went on to read all the cards sent to me, the 'I love you's, the 'You're amazing's and I felt a rush of nostalgia, a longing for the comfort and safety of being so ill that you are removed from the real world. So poorly that everything stops and your main priority is surviving.

With things feeling so topsy turvey right now, nothing being stable, this was not something I wanted to see. I plummeted into feeling overwhelmed and wanting to delve back into the world where I was capable to shut everything out, where numbers numbed my emotions and fear of the unpredictable. 

Then I found a letter from my dad. I keep one by my bed, I have spoken of it before, the letter where he outlines how the 'little devil' is winning every battle and killing his daughter and dreams before his very eyes. This one was different. This one was when I first admitted to my problem and shared that I was seeking help. This one was my beloved Papa bear telling me how proud he has always been of me, and how proud he continued to be, and how sure he was that I would beat this thing. I remember the day I received this letter, and I remember being touched beyond words. 

All I want to do right now is find every single person that my Anorexia touched and say I am sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I am so so sorry. 

This illness does not just consume those who suffer but also those that are included in said persons life. Those that witness you're destruction and feel helpless to it.

The agony I put my family through is something that saves me from falling over and over again. It breaks my heart to think that they had to stand by and watch their daughter, their sister, be so hell bent on self destructing with no real reason why and no way of helping. They had to stand back, with an awareness of the health implications whilst I was safe in the bubble of denial. Day in day out they feared phone calls in case it was their worst nightmare, their worst fear. I have said it before, but no father should ever have to write to their daughter telling her that she is going to die soon if she didn't stop destroying herself. No father should ever have to write those words. No Mum should ever have to keep her phone on her just in case. No sibling should be scared to next see their sister for fear that she's gotten even worse. No family should have to go through that.

I understand that those that have Eating Disorders don't chose to enter into such hell, it is an illness and not a choice, I understand that. I never chose to feel the way I used to, and I never consciously chose to get by by engaging in such a dangerous coping mechanism. It was something that took hold of me and that I couldn't control, but for what it's worth;

I am so sorry for all the times I could of chosen to fight and didn't. All the meals I could of fought harder on, all the days where I could of called for help, for all of the tablets that I could of flushed away, for all of the days where I could of accepted help sooner, for all of the hospital admissions that could of been avoided, I am so sorry. 

Sometimes I look back on my past and feel sad because of all I have lost due to this. I have learnt that this is pointless and that there is no point in dwelling, that there are better and happier times a head. That even though it was hell it has made me stronger, more confident, wiser, and that the silver linings outweigh the nightmares and memories. But for my family I'm not sure what silver linings they have, just the relief that it's over.

It was never just my journey, it was never just me surviving Anorexia, it has always been me and my family surviving Anorexia, and for this I will forever be sorry, grateful for them sticking by me and believing in me, but truly deeply sorry.

Finding stability in instability

I usually write after having a few bad days, when clarity has hit me and I feel strong enough to write a positive post that can show people that there is hope, that bad days don't always mean relapse.

This morning I decided that 'screw it, I'll write in the midst of the bad days', but as I start to write I feel it has once again passed. Go figure.

I woke from a dream the other day, a dream that I've not been able to shake. 

I dreamt that I was back where I was a year a go, not life wise, but body-wise, that the year to follow had just been a dream in itself, and when I woke the first thing I did was body check. It was distressing. As much as I don't want to be back in that horrible head space anymore, placing my hands on my new curvy figure when my brain expected something else was, well, distressing, to say the least. 

Since then I've had to persuade myself constantly that I do not want to go backwards, every second of every day, I do not need to go backwards. 

Yet I'm feeling all nostalgic for the comfort that going backwards brings. The invincibility I remember it surrounding me with, the stability that I have been so recently craving, the numbing of the anxiety from the unpredictable,

I guess that's the underlying issue. Stability, or lack there of. 

It's been going over and over in my brain, having things that you are scared of losing, getting to a place where you are happy and having the fear that it could all be lost for hundreds and thousands of reasons. I struggle with change and with losing people, in fact I'd say they were my worst fears, and it has been weighing down on me for the past few days.

Until I realized that maybe I should stop being such a pansy. 

That I am lucky to have things I am scared to lose, because if I had nothing to lose what would be the point? 

That the fact that I have things I want to keep hold of should mean that I am finally getting to the good parts in life, that I hit rock bottom and had nothing to lose but now it's a different story and that instead of wanting to rush or run away that I should embrace the risk, because 

“The trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.”Erica Jong

Risks helps us grow, help us move forward, help us gain more out of life, help us achieve our dreams.
I know now that I would rather have things that I'm scared of losing but be happy in the here and now then revert back to something that appears to give me security but also make me miserable.

So I have decided that instead of looking back towards my Eating Disorder for stability, instead of siding with the safe and comfortable, that I will find stability in instability, security in always choosing to move forwards, and safety in knowing that I can push through the fear. 

Life may be unpredictable, I may not be where I want to be in life, I may not be able to help those around me that are suffering, I may not be able to ease the burdens of my nearest and dearest, but I can rely on the fact that I am stronger then I have ever been, and instability may feel like bad things could happen in the blink of an eye, but it also means good things can too. 

:)

What now?

I am impatient. 

I am being impatient about life, and it's getting me down. 

I came to Exeter to start my recovery journey, to slowly adapt to being content and happy, to learn how to cope with lifes ups and downs in a less life threatening way. It's been a bumpy road but I believe that I am now there, I have achieved a strong stability in recovery, which is great, but what now? 

Now that I am no longer striving to just be able to cope with myself and the world around me what am I supposed to be doing? I feel like I am in limbo, the limbo of not quite recovered but recovered enough to move on. Which is great. But I am impatient and I now want everything all at once. I want everything that Anorexia took away from me and I want it all at high speed. I am in a place where I can look back and want to cry out of frustration because of all of the time and opportunity that I have robbed myself of. 

I feel like I'm back to square one in life and to start rebuilding seems daunting and I crave just being able to jump a few years a head to being at the place that I was before I let everything fall apart.

I am happy and content, everything in my life is good, some things even amazing, but me? me as a person, I am not enough.  

I have built myself a firm foundation to grow from but I can't help but kick myself for still being at the foundation stage, and yet I know why I am still there, because I don't feel good enough for the dreams that I hold so dear. 

I took time out of my course, I let my illness win and to me that feels like I have let the world of DMP down. I avoid my research and tip toe around getting back involved because I feel like I am not worthy of being part of that world. As I write this I know how stupid it sounds but the feeling of not being good enough is holding me back more then it ever has. I have a lot to prove and that's even scarier then just being purely capable.

I will talk to anyone that will listen about the wonders of Dance Movement Psychotherapy, and I will feel that fire reignite inside of me, I change, I feel alive, animated, excited and I will smile and remember how much I believe in it all. That passion becomes so strong that it takes over all of me and I FEEL it, really feel it, and I automatically want it back in my life then and there.  It's an amazing feeling, until I remember that the fear of me going back to it is crippling and petrifying. 

As my mum has always taught me 'Where there's a will there's a way' and that wanting something doesn't mean you get it. Things take hard work, and I am willing to work hard, I can work my ass off if I put my mind to something. I just need to get past my fear of not being good enough, my fear of failing, my fear of not being the best I can be.

Recovery has been the best thing I have ever done, hardest, but best, yet now that journey feels over and I'm all of a sudden just a girl who wants to be more. 

A girl who wants to be more, but yet isn't sure she can be. 

Being impatient and insecure is not a good combination.

The light is YOU

'The light at the end.....that light is YOU' - Mark Tait

I remember the day this was said to me. I remember being moved and speechless.
 I remember being told that the light at the end of the tunnel was me, I was the light.

I remember another day when someone else placed a candle in front of me and I remember the meaning behind it, and I remember my heart breaking into the tiniest of pieces.

I remember these moments touching me, I didn't understand, but I was moved by the beauty and potential.

Now I understand. 

I saw an old friend the other day, one who I met when in hospital. We have both come a long way and it was nice to talk about LIFE rather then old struggles. But, as we do, we spoke about those still suffering, how people we know have gone downhill again, got worse, was trying to get better, those that seem to never really change, those that seem to be even more entrenched then the last time. Talking this through it hit me that it doesn't matter how much help you get, it must come from YOU. 

I remember when my secret was out, when people started to figure out what I was hiding, I was so angry. I'd be angry because no one was taking it away. I'd rant and rave about how nobody was doing anything, then I'd rant and rave when they (in my eyes) would do too much. I would sit at home in floods of tears praying that the people who I held so dear, the people who were reaching out and helping me, would start caring enough to DO SOMETHING. I would cry so hard that I felt like the simple act of crying was sure to kill me. I wanted someone to take my pain and suffering away, with all my heart I wanted someone to make it better, to make ME better. Their inability to do so resulted in me thinking that they didn't care enough, or that I wasn't ill enough, that I wasn't enough, that I wasn't worth the effort. 

It seems so clear now but when you are powerless to the self destruction it's hard to see things the way they really are. Its hard to admit that you are the only one who can save you. When you are full of self hatred the thought that you have to somehow grasp enough want to fight, to effectively fight yourself, is both daunting and petrifying. No one could DO anything. It had to be from ME. 

If you are stuck in that place where you are falling down the rabbit hole, screaming out for help and no one seems to be catching you, please know that everything you need to pull yourself out is within YOU. 

People can help, they can nudge you along, point you to right paths, hold your hand whilst you utter those words that all of sudden become real, scary, true, but it has to be from YOU.

Support is important, without it my journey would have been a lot harder and a lot longer, but it was ME that pulled myself out. I was reminded that I was in control and I had choices. I choose to fight.

If you can't choose that right now it doesn't mean you are never going to get better, it doesn't meant people shouldn't help, it means that with time that can change, it means that if you keep at it the fight can grow.

It often feels in recovery like you're damned if you do and damned if you don't.

Remember that one of those paths leaves you stagnant, it leaves you in the darkness that you've been in for far too long, the other path will feel just as shit, if not worse for a while, but it will lead you out, it will lead you to freedom, and that freedom is worth fighting for. 

You have the power within you to fight, don't wait for people to fight for you, as much as they would like to, they cant.  Don't get angry because nobody is handing you a magic pill to make it go away, it doesn't mean they don't care, nobody has it. Don't get angry because nobody is shining a light at the end of the tunnel for you, Mark is right, you have to be your own light.

'The light at the end.....that light is YOU' - Mark Tait

I understand now. I understand because I am out of that tunnel, and I am happy. I am the happiest I have been in a long long time. I didn't leave the tunnel specifically for anything, to achieve something, to gain something, I left purely for me, and the light is that I got ME back. 

One of the proudest moments of my life is having my dad text me telling me that he was so happy because his 'old Sami is back', and she is. 

I may not be head over heels in love with myself, but this version of me is far better then any version that Anorexia could give me. 

This Sami has life in her eyes, a skip in her step and passion in her heart and that's the way it's going to stay. 

Im embracing the light and blocking off the tunnel 

:) 

Relapse

Yesterday I hated this blog.
I hated the fact that I have created this new sense of strength, and that it stopped me reaching out and from telling people that I was struggling, because yesterday I really was.

It was, for many reasons, incredibly hard. 

Everything felt out of control and unpredictable and I felt overwhelmed with life. 

It was by far the worst day I've had in recovery so far.

Throughout the day I couldn't shake the feeling of the past.

Moments and Eating Disorder memories kept popping into my head, and the feelings that it triggered where so overwhelming, it was like intense flashbacks one after the other, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

It all came back to me in a flood of flashbacks, and every painful memory, every shattering emotion, I felt all over again. 

I have no idea why or where it came from. Maybe because I'd had a few triggers happen in quick succession and my brain went into a bit of a melt down, but all I could think of was relapse. I craved it. It was like something snapped in my brain and I couldn't handle it. 

It broke my heart. Not because of the reasons you'd think, it broke me because even though it was such intense feelings my logical brain was still not allowing me to go backwards. 

I had to deal with these feelings and battle through, I had to feel the pain and not numb it with my Eating Disorder.

Relapse is not an option, it won't happen, but yesterday I craved it, and it broke my heart. Knowing you want something so badly, but knowing you can never have it is soul destroying. It's like mourning the loss of someone or something you loved, I can never have my anorexia back, that is a choice I have made, it is MY choice and one I will stick too, but it doesn't stop me from missing it, from craving it. Just like I'm sure a heorin addict craves a hit but knows it can't happen. Its an addiction, and boy did I feel it yesterday.

I wanted it more then anything, I was in tears, on my knees, begging my logical brain to just shut the hell up and let me relapse to let me give in and give up.

I won't relapse, because I truly believe if I did I would not make it out the other side this time. I am not willing to waste any more of my life and time on something that would not only destroy me but my family too. Im not going to give up on this recovery path because I would only have to do all this hard work again. I am hell bent on recovery and living life to the fullest. I know that now, but yesterday I had to remind myself of this over and over again, in between all the tears, in between the memories, over and over. 

This morning it is a different story, I woke up to a new day and my brain has settled, I got straight back on the right track and went out to breakfast with the guy I am seeing, and I'm back to being happy and content and it is a relief. It just goes to show that no matter how intense feelings are, they pass, and things can feel better. 

That one day has left me exhausted, and I am amazed at how I used to feel like that day in day out, which makes me even more thankful that I made it through, and even more amazed that I managed to pull myself out of that darkness. 

I know this may not seem like an upbeat post, or as 'positive and inspiring' as my others, but its the truth, recovery is hard, there are blips, but I made it through yesterday, I cried my tears and felt the pain of not allowing myself to fall backwards, I made it through, the feelings passed, I survived, and that will help me to continue surviving. 

I am stronger then I used to be.

'“My worst days in recovery are better than the best days in relapse.”

An insecure bad ass

Just recently I have been confused as to where I stand in this recovery journey, mainly because my 'recovery journey' is turning into more of a 'just life journey'.

I've found that the majority of my thoughts are now leaning towards life, and 'normality' rather then battling through negotiating with my Eating Disorder to keep choosing to fight.

Through this shift I got confused as to who I was, I was lost between the persona of 'Recovery Sami' and just 'Sami'. 

Recovery Sami is bad ass.

I know that. I am coming up against challenges and just knocking them out of the park, and it feels ok, and with the right people, even though they don't know, it even feels safe. It makes life easier and even though I still have to battle through some illogical thoughts sometimes I know they are just that, illogical thoughts, nothing that can actually affect me if I don't let it.

Just recently I have been bombarded by people thinking that I am relapsing, I posted a picture on Instagram after a run and had people telling me that I was looking ill again. For a while it sent my head into a spin, over thinking, worrying, doubting, until I got angry.

My recovery is MY recovery and if I think I am safe to exercise then I will. But instead of getting angry and defensive I am letting it go and just simply proving people wrong. 

Actions speak louder then words. 

But as I was saying, Recovery Sami is bad ass. Sami, actual Sami, is not so bad ass. 

As much as I'd like to think I am, I'm not. 

I am a worrier, an overthinking, impatient, and I never feel like I am enough. I've been trying to get my bad ass'ness to overlap, to kick my confidence into place, and sometimes I can, sometimes I can hold my head up high and remind myself that I'm not so bad. 

Other days I can't.

Then there are days were I just compare myself to everyone, especially at work, my brain kicks off into 'not as pretty as her, not as funny her, not as quick witted as her, not as liked as her' ect ect. 

My brain switches into that self critical mode, that mode that correlates so clearly with my Anorexia.

And for a while, because I've begun to think this way again, I believed the people that said I was relapsing. 

I felt my thoughts begin to take a turn and started to doubt my bad ass recovery side. 

Well I'm an idiot. 

Just because I can be insecure doesn't mean I am mentally ill again.......it means I'm flipping human.

What person, be it female or male, doesn't doubt themselves from time to time?  

Doesn't wonder if they are enough?

Sometimes I think we expect the life after recovery to be all happiness and fairytales. 

It's not. Sorry.

 Life still carries on and you will still come up against difficult situations. People promise you recovery will be worth it, and it will be, but that doesn't mean that life suddenly becomes easier. Life has more joy, more fulfillment, more meaning, more happiness but you will still have the tough times. But being in recovery hopefully means you are more equipped to deal with them, more able to make it through in a healthy way. Being in recovery can also mean that the insecurities aren't as smothering. Now if I'm having a bad day, with my self esteem at an all time low,  it only takes something little for me to snap out of it, be it a friend making me laugh, or the guy I'm seeing to say something nice, and all of a sudden I'm back to being a bad ass. 

Recovery means you can deal with these feelings, sit with them, then remind yourself that there's a possibility that things aren't so bad, YOU might not be so bad.

My insecurities will always be there, even if I'm not insecure about recovering, being a bad ass through that journey doesn't make me a bad ass for life, it means I'm stronger but I can still be vulnerable. 

I am no longer Mentally ill..........I am human. 

Insecure, but human.

Insecure and self critical but still a recovery bad ass.

An insecure bad ass.

Be careful

I'm trying to remind myself of how strong I am, yes that's right, I am a tough cookie, and yes, that was a compliment I just gave myself, and what? 

I am a bundle of nerves and my brain is in over drive, thankfully not to the extent it used to be, but the anxiety is still sitting in the depth of my stomach. I have a DXA scan today, which means a hospital appointment, and since pretty much living in a hospital for a long period of time it's not a pleasant experience to go back to them, especially when it's for the same cause. 

I get annoyed and angry at myself, and beat myself up for not realizing the extent of the damage I had been doing to my body. 

At the time I didn't care, didn't expect or even want to get to a point where I wanted to look after myself or be ok. It seemed a ridiculous idea to give me all the medication under the sun to keep my body ticking over because if I'd of wanted to look after myself I wouldn't of been destroying myself.

I didn't expect to regret it, but I do. 

 I suppose at the time I didn't realize what I was doing, couldn't see how bad things were, and it makes me sad, not for me, but for the people that COULD see every bit of damage, every kilo lost, every organ that started to struggle, every backwards step, every health warning sign, every body failing scare, they saw it all, with clear unclouded vision. 

My Anorexia protected me from that, it gave me a healthy helping (ironically) of denial. My family on the other hand didn't have that luxury, and I will never forgive myself for that.

I wish I could tell more people that are suffering that, to be careful, because the damage you do to your body can be permanent, but your state of mind, your internal turmoil isn't. 

I get Timehop memories on my phone and reading through some of them breaks my heart, I was so wrapped up in Anorexic thoughts that it was all my life was about. 

I was consumed day in day out and it's exhausting to even remind myself of. 

I can't quite believe how far I have come and how much has changed, for the better. 

I never believed I would get here. 

Don't get me wrong I still have my slip ups, when I am stressed or anxious I sometimes find myself running to old coping mechanisms, but I catch myself at it and give myself a talking to. 

Seeing these memories, rereading past thoughts hits home just how much I have fought, what I have managed to pull myself out of.

Right now I am happy, once today is over I can go back to not stressing about things, go back to loving life.

I am happy and it's nice, I like being happy, I like finding things to smile and laugh about.

I can't say I feel comfortable in my own skin yet, I don't like my body but I can accept and even start to believe that someone else can/does. I can accept that it is what it is and it's better to be bigger and better then fading away both in size and in life. 

 I can find things that are worth more then my size, fill my days with more important things so that how much space I take up becomes irrelevant. 

I will keep looking back on these memories, not because I want to live in the past, not to be nostalgic, not because I want any part of that lifestyle back, but because it reminds me that I am seriously tough. 

Because I can smile and say, you may still lose a few battles from time to time, but you are kicking ass at winning this war.

 

 

 

Happy :)

'There is no point in living in the past' 

There isn't. I heard this over the weekend and it made me think. There is no point, unless you are reminding yourself of how far you have come and how much better off you are.

This weekend has show me that, and wow, what a difference a year makes. 

This time last year I was spending my birthday in hospital, to be more specific it was my 3rd month on the ward, and as much as the other girls tried to make it easier, I was miserable. 

 

Life looked dreary and bleak, I was lost, and to celebrate another year of my life just highlighted (what I thought was) my flaws and failures. It reminded me that I had just spent 3 months fighting for my life back, for the second time. I had to request leave to see my family and saw my birthday in, and out, in a lonely hospital room crying.

I will say it again, wow what a difference a year makes. 

This year I have been surrounded by such amazing friends and family, I have laughed, relaxed, drank, eaten, danced and more importantly, I have been so so happy. To be able to sit with my family and enjoy a birthday BBQ, which I'm sure they had no nerves about suggesting for fear I would fly off the handle, was such a change. 

We sat in the sunshine and it was nice to just be, no fears, no worries, no head trying to work out what I could get away with not having, no over thinking, no dreading being taken back to the ward, no anorexic voice screaming. Peaceful and content. 

It made me think about when everyone told me, so adamantly, that recovery would be hard, but oh so worth it, and they were right. 

I refused to believe them for such a long time but now, and for a while now, I think they might be right. 

Life has taken over and has repaid me ten fold. It's amazing to think of just how many things I have managed to do this weekend that would of been SO scary and near off impossible only a mere 365 days ago, things that would of reduced me to tears and question my whole world. 

Whereas this year it wasn't a case of just 'managing' or getting through, it was normal, and even ok, and I NEVER, no matter how much I had wanted recovery, I NEVER thought it would get to that stage.

So for those of you who are dabbling with recovery, who have doubts and worries and fears, please know that it is ok to feel that way, in fact it would be more worrying if you didn't! 

Choosing to recover goes against everything and every way you have been living, it is courageous and brave to even consider it. Being fearful of that path is natural. 

It is ok to doubt what recovery might bring, as long as it doesn't stop you from trying it. 

Do not let the fear of the unknown stop you, or the niggling doubt when people tell you that it is worth it take over and over power your strength, because I promise it CAN be worth it. 

Life CAN be better, it CAN have more meaning and more purpose. 

I never ever believed that I would be free from those feelings and impulses, I thought my kind of recovery would be just to manage and cope with all the negativity and behaviors.

I WAS WRONG.

I can hand on heart say that, for me, recovery IS worth it, and I know it can be for you too. 

Welcome back positivity!

So........I can do this. 

My positivity has come back, and I've decided that I can do this. Thanks to a very helpful and supportive tutorial I've been uplifted and my fight has returned, thank god! On the Wednesday I found out I was so pissed off and angry that I refused to listen to anyone. People kept trying to give me little inspirational pep talks but I was having none of it, because I knew, I knew that what they were saying was true, well some of it :P but for that day I just needed to be angry. I needed to be hurt and I didn't want to see logic. I was too angry.

We all know that life is unpredictable. No one knows how they will handle or react to a situation until they are in it. If my research made me relapse then that shows me that I just have some more learning and growing to do, and I take full responsibility for that. 

I am not going to go through life playing it safe and avoid the things that I am passionate about for fear of it triggering something in me. I'm not going to tip toe around life, that's not recovery. I chose to go down the recovery path so that I could live a whole and fulfilling life, one full of the passions that I fought so hard to get back, and that is what I'm going to do, 

I'm going to LIVE, unapologetically, fully and fearlessly. 

Well, I'm going to give it a good go anyway!

Not so positive

I cannot do this. 

I can, and I will, but right now I feel as though I cannot do this. 

My positivity has been shaken and it scares me how quickly it disappeared. 

I am angry. and pissed off, and hurt. It feels like I got to a point where I was finally being kind to myself, admitting that I WAS strong, taking myself to therapy to continue to develop, embracing new challenges and trying to 'feel the fear and do it anyway'. I finally felt like something had shifted, that I was even so strong that I could continue my growth and help be strong for others. 

I was logically looking at all the things that made me anxious and making a conscious decision to overcome them, push myself, grow.

As someone said to me last week, I have to not be afraid to be present in my own life if I want to be so present in others. 

Now I am beginning to doubt everything. It's like a big black cloud has settled over me and I feel that old familiar weight bearing down on my shoulders, and yes I do mean metaphoric weight but also a physical one as well, but yes I also do know that shifting that felt physical weight isn't going to rid the metaphorical one. I KNOW THAT. 

People have begun to doubt me, claim that I'm in denial with my recovery, and it makes my head kick off. I over think and worry that they may be right, I know deep down that they aren't but by being second guessed means that it takes away any pride that I have in fighting. I lose my spark and feel dampened and that little voice of 'oh sod it give up, if they still think you're failing just give up'. 

Because even though I do come across strong and hell bent on recovery it is still BLOODY HARD. Yes I may want it 100% and I may make it sound easy but it's not. Its a daily, hourly minute by minute fight against what has been instinctive for so long.

Today I want to give up. I have had my Ethics back and all I can see when I look at it is a page by page document that lays out how I am just not good enough. 

My head is kicking off big time and laughing at me, laughing at the fact that I ever thought i could achieve this. My heart is broken and I feel like a failure. I never believed people when they said I was a perfectionist but that part of me is going insane. What I submitted was laughable, they must of sat and reviewed it and just laughed at me, and I feel like an idiot for that. 

  I even had my married name on one part and my maiden on another (just to add in another embarrassing failure). They also said that,

'In view of your personal disclosure about your recent illness the committee are concerned about your potential vulnerability and personal risk in that the study may potentially create a re-emergence of your illness.'

There will be a day where people will find out about my past and see my strength rather then see my vulnerability. They will see how it has made me stronger rather then this fragile wallflower that needs protecting from the world and herself. 

Right now I feel broken. I feel like every aspect of life is against me. I would like to roll over and give up. My brain is screaming that I cannot do this anymore. I cannot handle the failing and I would rather run away and be broken. 

As much as I'd like to though I know this isn't going to happen, because even now, even now when I feel so shitty, there is about 2% of me that is screaming PROVE THEM WRONG. That is getting PISSED OFF and is getting ready to fight hard and turn this all around. I am stubborn and if someone tells me I can't do something I will do it just to prove I can. That 2% will be get to at least 90% at some point and I will continue, I know I will, and I know this will be a battle I can fight and win. Even if it is out of sheer stubbornness.

But right now, right now, I feel like I am not good enough for anything. 

Right now I feel like I cannot do this.

The only way out is through x

It's surprising how you can go from super positive to super low so quickly, apologizes for that, I think I am a touch run down and emotional,but this is the reality of recovery, you have to embrace the good and bear the bad. 

Right now I have a room full of things I wish I didn't have. I was strong, I didn't run away from my feelings and I faced the inevitably hard goodbye that I have put off for so long, and it was easier then I expected.
With the support of my family I kept my chin up, smiled, walked away and let go. Really let go, and in fact, it was freeing, hard, but freeing! I can finally start to draw a line under that part of my life, and I will, I am.

But even though it went smoothly the Gremlin in my head is giving me hell. I don't know if it's a mixture of all the stress that had built up being over and finally hitting, being over worked and being run down, but my mood seems to of plummeted. The fears that I feel about life are creeping back in and I can feel the negativity swarming around me, attaching themselves to every thought and making me doubt and over analyze.

The gremlin in my head is screaming at me, I am shutting it up and screaming back but sometimes I scream so loud for so long that I lose my voice.

All that I can focus on is the feeling of not being good enough, at anything. Failing. Falling. Inadequacy. Taking up too much space. Being uncomfortable in my body. And the overwhelming sense that I am not enough.

This is backed up by the constant thought that, I have failed at the one thing that we are put on this earth to do, our primary function apart from just living, the thing that we are all looking for, the one thing that gets us through life, our main goal, to love and be loved, because isn't that the purpose of life? To find love, to find someone to go through lives ups and downs with. My mind keeps going to that classic Sami place, the self critical, self hatred, place. Logically I know that it's not solely my fault, in fact I know that more then ever, but my gremlin is latching on to my weakened positivity and screaming at me.

I am glad I was able to walk away, and I await the day that its legally all over, but for now I am going to ride out this emotinal turmoil, continue to trust the process of recovery, and keep telling myself that:

although the world feels overwhelming right now, and I feel like I am not good enough for even the smallest of things, not enough for all of the things I want to do in this life, that I do not need to turn to old habits to prove otherwise. I do not need to block these feelings out because, as hard as they are, they are just that, feelings, and that this low point, this self doubting, this fear and ache will pass, and positivity will come back again. 

The only way out is through.

Right?

Be the change!

I've been trying to write this post for a while now, but I am panicking about it being good enough. Classic Sami.

I am starting to understand myself, notice my triggers, where I struggle, and also where I thrive, yes that's right, I can thrive :) It's like someone has found the light switch in my brain and its illuminated enough to be able to find my way around. 

I am determined to work on the reasons why I turned to anorexia in the first place, and for the first time I am not avoiding or running away. Its hard, bloody hard, and with other areas in my life being so difficult at the moment it's hard to ignore that gremlin that's screaming and tempting you to do what you have always done to manage. 

But that gremlin can take a run and jump, without me attached. 

I am content, I'd even go as far to say that I am happy, and not afraid to admit it, not afraid to mean it, not afraid to embrace it. I am starting to face my problems rather then run away from them, and, as scary as this is, the feeling of strength that come afterwards is so worth it. 

I was reading through my old blog today, the blog I wrote throughout my illness, and it's so sad. I read the words and can almost feel the pain that I was in, yet it feels like it wasn't me, and it makes me glad to not be in the midst of all of that drama, upset and agony anymore. It makes me even more sure that I don't want that life. I once wrote:

  'But then again I 'shouldn't' be a lot of things
I shouldn't be going to bed with a heavy empty heart every night because my husband hates me so much, hates the feel of me 'wasting away' so much that he refuses to sleep in the same bed as me
I shouldn't be crying inside with such hunger because I can't bring myself to just be normal
I shouldn't plan my work shifts, social occasion and appts around my ED
I shouldn't rely on other people to speak up for me
I shouldn't of wasted this time

I shouldn't BE a waste of time, a waste of space, a waste of life
I shouldn't be hurting or letting people own as badly as I am

I am one big shouldn't,
one big pile of flaws that's held together by its need to be flawless

 Its a deep and dark fog that I am in. It's scary how suffocating it becomes when you are searching for your way out. That once comforting, encompassing darkness begins to weigh you down and appear everywhere. You used to be able to control it and now it just engulfs you. It clings to you, your every thought, every move, your every breathe.
It does not linger like a shadow, it is a full body, constant hurricane.'

 I read this and it reminded me of something that was once said to me, that I'm hoping will help others, because we tend to have this trait of blaming ourselves, turning inwards and punishing ourselves for the way we are. 

If you are feeling like one big 'shouldn't' please know that there are no shoulds or shouldn'ts in recovery. You are where you are, you have unfortunately reached that point, its what you do NOW that matters, it's the baby steps you take to escape this hell that matters. 

Stop punishing yourself for your suffering, more punishment will only keep you in it, start FORGIVING yourself and start RESCUING yourself instead. 

Don't punish, adapt and heal. 

 

I am looking towards the future and excited that not only do I not see it involving Anorexia, I also don't want it to. For years I couldn't see a way out and was in this limbo of not wanting to get better but also not wanting to be ill. The fear of the unknown had me convinced that I didn't want a life without my Eating Disorder, it convinced me that a life without it would be out of control, panic ridden, messy and lonely. 

I can tell you that it's the exact opposite. 

 If this is the life that my gremlin made me so fearful of then I am starting to believe that fear can stop good things as well as bad.

 

I am not recovered but I am closer then I have ever been, and I am hell bent on getting there, and I'm hell bent on showing to others that life CAN get better. 

'Be the change you want to see in the world' 

xx

Life and rubbish GP's

My Anorexic brain is not happy right now....because I'm giving it no room to win. 

No room what so ever. 

I have been wondering what to write for a while now, mainly because the situation I was put in the other week still leaves me fuming. 

I had a run in with my GP, who quite clearly is not clued up on Mental Health conditions. 

I went due to people being concerned about me training for the Tough Mudder, when I was in hospital it was something that they told me often, to be wary of any future health concerns due to the stress my body had undergone. I was told countless times that it was amazing how it hadn't packed in in certain areas, because let's face it, it went from normal weight to underweight to a normal weight to an even more drastic underweight to a high weight and now back to a normal weight, and apart from the last change it was all by unhealthy behaviors. I have pushed my body to the point were my heart was ready to pack in and was close to renal failure. It's safe to say it's both fragile and strong and I need to start taking care of it.

So I went to the GP, just to get things checked over and she completley judged me on my size before even talking to me about how I am. She told me that for someone with severe anorexia who was emaciated they wouldn't have the energy to do the Tough Mudder (this is wrong on so many levels), she then looked me up and down and said 

'you don't look THAT unwell though' 

(personally I don't think I look 'unwell' at all as I am at a healthy weight), 

she then went on to say 'well I can't tell you to do it because if you drop down dead that would be my fault, and I can't tell you not to do it because, well, you're going to do it anyway'. 

THEN she said 'to be honest I don't want to get involved so good luck' and let me go on my merry way.

This was all said with a look on her face, and the tone of voice that just screamed 'you are wasting my time, what do you want ME to do about it?'

Now if I wasn't in such a 'fuck this I want recovery head space' that whole conversation would of been extremely triggering. GP's like her are the reason why people end up so ill. When I went to my GP in Bristol before the marathon I was of a similar weight (this is at the start of my training before it dropped so no one panic), but the reason why she was so concerned was because of my behaviors not because of my weight. In her professional opinion she told me that it was more then likely that I would die before I crossed the finish line because of the stress I was putting my body through. She saw past my weight, and saw my eating disorder for what it was at that time, a dangerous mental health condition. This GP knew my history and didn't ask me how I was, if I was engaging in old behaviors (which I'm not, I have my slip ups but no where near what it was), or if I was even still in recovery. 

She saw my healthy weight and assumed I was ok and that is dangerous. 

I am not angry for me because I know that I am ok, I am not letting her judgements affect me because to be brutally honest I'm fed up of being sick. I want a life that doesn't involve triggering doctors or worried friends and family, no thank you, been there done that, I choose life. BUT I'm angry because how many other sufferers has she treated this way? How many other GP's are out there like that? 

How much damage is being done by the professionals that are meant to be helping not harming.

If this sounds familiar, if you're GP is the same please, I beg you, find another one. There ARE good ones out there, ones that see your struggle without judgement and push for help, help you deserve. 

An Eating Disorder can be fatal at any weight, at any stage, for anyone. 

It has the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric condition. 

Do not become one of those mortality statistics because a GP wasn't aware of what they were dealing with, there are GPs that will know and will act and will fight with you. Fight for yourself by finding one. 

On a more positive note, after a few wobbles and tantrums last week I decided enough was enough and began to push forward more then I ever have, and life has rewarded me so far. 

At the weekend I went to my managers wedding and for once in my life had the 'normal' social gathering that I've always craved. I decided on impulse to join in with having some of the evening food,  now bare in mind this was CHOICE, I could of easily not of joined in, and also I have a HUGE fear about eating in front of my work friends, in the whole 8 months that I've worked there I never have. 

But I did, and the world didn't stop turning, and everything was ok, and in fact it made the night better, because I was part of it, I was included, I was living. 

Let go

I've been thinking a lot recently about letting things go. 

It's a phrase that holds a lot of meaning for me, to allow yourself to just 'let go'. I will always remember when someone looked up at me at a very crucial part in my recovery and said  

'Sami just let go, it's time to let it go' and it was like all of a sudden I could breathe.

It's hard to let go of things that you have been desperately clinging to for so long, be it due to fear, saftey, habitual, stability, sanity ect but sometimes you have to trust that it's what has to be done. 

I suppose that's where I am at them moment, wanting to just take a deep breathe in, trust, leap and let it go.

I have had a few epiphany moments recently and I feel like I'm all of a sudden I'm starting to see clearer then I ever have before.

 But for some reason it's almost like an undercurrent of positivity, a sense of recovery, yet not exactly the actions to correlate with the feelings.

Yet it's more then just talking the talk and not walking the walk. I'm not just saying all these positive things to seem 'ok' to seem 'better' or further along in recovery then I actually am, I say them because I wholeheartedly mean them.

After having a discussion with a really good friend the other day I took myself away and had a think to myself. The situation I'm in right now could easily lead me to a relapse, and a bad one at that. I realize this, yet, I don't want to. I'm not claiming it's ever a choice, it's not, my last relapse was not a conscious plan that I thought would be 'fun', of course not, it was all consuming and I was, at the time, powerless to it. I'm not explaining this very well, basically, bottom line, each time I've tried to get better for a reason, for my family, husband, DMP course, license to practice, for a new life with my best friend, for a fresh start ect ect. There has always been some kind of reason.

This is the very first time I've ever thought and FELT that I want to recover for ME. 

I find myself saying to myself, 'Im so done with this, I want more, I want a life, I want to move on, I want to be happy, I want to help people, I want to meet someone, I want a family, I want a LIFE' and I do, I really really do. For once I feel like this 'normality' that I crave is within my grasp if I just trust myself and take that leap. 

I never used to even be able to imagine my life without this, it was always that I would just manage, just cope and juggle having a life with an eating disorder, now I know that I want and can have a life without it. I no longer see it as part of me, some form of identity ect in fact it's not something I even consider to be part of who I am anymore.

After hearing all the speculations about Peaches Geldof dying from an Eating Disorder I realised, this could kill anyone at any stage. I've know people at a healthy BMI in recovery that just die because of the stress they have put their bodies through. I don't want that to be me. For some I suppose this is a slow form of suicide, but it isn't for me. I don't want to die from this, I want my life.
I spoke to my mum on the phone when I was going through a rough patch a couple of weeks ago and, selfishly, said to her that I wished Anorexia had just killed me, finished me off the last time because I couldnt cope with the fear of relapse and going through it all again. I was upset but those words shocked me, I don't want to be that girl, the girl that lost the fight, I want to be the girl that fought and won and lived.

I never imagined that my ED would still be a part of my life at 24, I thought it was something I could just forget about when I 'grew up'. I've wasted too much time already and if I continue to be stuck in recovery I will still have this as part of my life when I am in my 30's, 40's, 50's ect

I don't want to be 50 odd and look back and just see a fight with Anorexia. 

I want to look back and see achievements, family, laughter, LIFE. 

I say all of this, and I mean it, trust me I mean it, yet I am still stuck. 

I am not relapsing, but I am not recovering either. I am playing it safe. Playing it scared.

When I moved to Exeter I was recovering, full speed ahead, now I am no where near that in actions, but so much closer in head space. Which, I know, makes no sense.

I am not obsessing like I used to, this doesn't take up all of my head space. It's half and half. When it doesn't come to eating I don't really think about the things I used too (anorexia wise), its not something that has a grip over my day to day life.

I won't say in what ways or how as I don't want to trigger others but all I do know is that I am not acting on my positivity and it's almost like my brain is split in two. 

I suppose this could just be the edge of my journey, one final push to jump over that ledge and into freedom. One final hurrah. Maybe thats where we will all get to, that defining moment where you finally turn your back on the destruction that an ED really brings. 

When you can see so clearly that there is no control, there is no happiness and that it's all just lies, that life holds the real promise and potential. 

I know I have been rambling but if you take anything from this entry please just ask yourself this....

 Do you really want this for the rest of your life? 

Do you really want to wake up in your later years and just see a constant journey through recovery relapse recovery relapse when you could of had life?

Is it worth it?

Life goes by so fast, I've already wasted too much time in this shittyness, have you? 

Lets fight this thing!

So I’ve been secretly having a bit of a relapse. 

There we go I said it, the cat is out of the bag, but neither the cat nor the bag is needed because it stops right here. 

I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been out of Exeter and surrounded by family or if I’ve just seen sense but I am not prepared to fall down this rabbit hole again. 

Things have been SO out of control recently that I predictably started using my one and only coping mechanism to get by again. Self-destruction. That way, in my head, nothing and no one can hurt me as much as I hurt myself, therefore if I am already hurting I am invincible. Wrong, but that is how my mind works. 

(Once again its crazy when you realise that an Eating Disorder really doesn’t have much to do with eating in the end)
 

I got wrapped up in the feeling of instability, that nothing in life was stable, people come and go and with it so does happiness and safety. It felt (and still does) that it was one loss after another, so what was the point?

If I had nothing to fight for then I may as well give in to the devil in my head, I didn’t have the energy to fight, I didn’t have the want or motivation. In fact having a small relapse gave me something to focus on other then the shit that was going on. Gave me a way out of dealing with things.  I didn’t have to think about stuff going on in Exeter, or my feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness, the death of my Nan, the final part of my divorce going through, the loneliness, the looming date of my incomplete dissertation, not being able to help people, not being e-bloody-nough…….the list is endless. I know right? Woe is me. 

Now don’t get me wrong this all sounds very thought out and planned. It wasn’t. Its only now upon reflection that I realise what was going on. No one plans to get into such a bad headspace that they turn to self-destruction to cope, no one.  It just happened, because it’s become habitual. I suppose when I first moved to Exeter, yes things were hard, but I was happy, therefore I didn’t need a coping mechanism. Now things are bloody tough and relapsing just happened, it’s the way I’ve coped for so long, turn inwards on myself.

Because of the things I have learnt during my inpatient stays, and because of all the amazing advice and love my friends and family have given me (I hate to name names because you are all amazing but Ella, Alice and Emily especially, you guys have seriously kept me safe, thank you) I can see that I can cope in other ways. 

I DO NOT have to resort to my eating disorder for security. 

I DO NOT have to show that I am struggling on my body, I have a voice and one I can use, one that if I find the right people will be listened to. 

I am turning this around because there is more to life. When I was coming home for the funeral this week I was worried that my family would notice that I had become a touch smaller in size, and it made me sad. I remember the time I came home and my brother said to me ‘Sami you’re looking really good, it’s so nice to not see you for a while then see you looking really well’. Now my brother is a man of few words, hugely sentimental and supportive but just not through words, so this meant a lot to me. In fact those words gave me a hell of a lot more sense of pride then seeing decreasing numbers ever could. It made me sad to think that when my family don't see me for a while they fear what I'm going to look like when I do eventually turn up.

So I have decided that, although it’ll be super uberly hard, I’m getting back on the recovery train.  

I will find other coping mechanisms. 

I will use my voice and speak up. 

I will not give in to the screaming in my head. 

I will fight and fight and fight. 

I DO have things to fight for, and on the days where I convince myself of otherwise, convince myself that my friends and family and the world of DMP would cope without me, then I will remind myself that if I can’t fight for that/them that I have the very basic, simple, thing to fight for. 

Myself. 

Whos with me?