The End.

I haven't written a blog post in a while, and there's a reason for that. 

A few days a go I got the news that I have passed my MA, I am now a registered Dance Movement Psychotherapist with a license to practice. 

This is good news for any but for me it means other things too. It means leaving behind the pain of the past, it means the limbo is over and it means leaving the vulnerable label that hung over me behind, for good. The journey was one that I would never change, it brought some amazing people in to my life, but it was also a journey filled with tough times and set backs. For a long time I fought against the fact that I was too ill to undertake such a course, I had to take time out to get myself back on track. I was seen as someone who wasn't handling 'life' and therefore too vulnerable (for myself and for clients) to achieve my license to practice, which, upon reflection, was fair enough.

Not any more.

It seems fitting that with the news I am choosing to end this blog. 

I will never stop advocating for Mental Health services and Eating Disorder services and I will never stop believing that people need to speak out about their experiences to reach out to others. It's important to use your voice, be heard and make changes, but for the moment I am taking a step back.

I am so far in to recovery that it's almost time to use the phrase 'I am recovered', but with that it means that I have to take a step back from the world that surrounds the context of an eating disorder. I have been in it so long, ill, recovering, researching, that even though I haven't been engaging in behaviors it's somehow still been part of my life. Now it's time to let that go, to be able to breathe again and not keep remembering what used to be, because I am determined to never go back to that. 

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be a voice for people, many people go on the talk about recovery years after their illness, which is amazing, but for me it's time to leave it behind and move on, the last process of the healing. 

For those of you out there that are in recovery, contemplating recovery, still in the throes of an ED or someone who's life has been affected by eating disorders, please know that it can get better. 

For a long time I thought that I was going to be engulfed in anorexia,depression, self hatred, anxiety and darkness forever, I truly believed there was no way out of the hell that it creates, I was wrong. No matter how convinced you are know that things can change and days can get brighter. Before you disbelieve me let me tell you that I am nothing special, I am not a unique case, it is just possible. For you too.

I used to hate the phrase 'Trust the Process', really hate it, but it seems to be the best thing to believe in. Trust that with time, patience and courage it can get better. Be brave and do not let the darkness drag you down. Take the steps that you need to, and if it's scary then good, do it scared and believe it's worth it. All the cliches that are thrown at you are infuriatingly true, it IS worth is, you do have to trust the process, you are the light at the end of the tunnel, you do have to feel the fear and do it away, and the only way out is through ect ect

Most importantly,

'Hold On Pain Ends'

Shouldn't I be pooping rainbows?

A good friend knows that just recently I've been feeling a bit out of sorts, bit blue, bit down in the dumps, bit hopeless.

This recent bout of blueness has been getting me frustrated at myself, you know, because, well, I'm better, shouldn't this cloud of insecurity and gloom have lifted and be gone for good? I am also happy so there's no reason for these down days, so why do I get days where I feel a bit numb? Why do I get periods where I feel just as anxious and as sad as I used to? 

Shouldn't I be pooping rainbows and sweating glitter? Shouldn't I be skipping around handing out hugs? 

So she sent me this, and after reading it I realized that I should cut myself some slack. I realised I am no where near as 'hopeless' as I think, that I'm not 'failing recovery', and that even though there may be days where it feels like I only smile because my goofy boyfriend manages to pull me out of a slump, that those days seem to be rare. 
(not the days his goofiness makes me smile, trust me that happens a scary amount, its nice.)

It made me realise that these vulnerable days are my becoming. They show that I can handle, sit with, and most importantly get through being vulnerable.  

The reason why I am saying all of this is because I am sharing what she shared with me, I have written it out below, because it reminded me that recovery is hard but so is regular life, even when you are so much better. It reminded me that recovery isn't all butterflies and rainbows and eating tubs of ice cream, and that the odd days of struggle doesn't mean you are failing, it means you are getting stronger, it means you are involved in life, it means you are becoming. 

No-ones life is butterflies and rainbows so we shouldn't expect that of recovery, we aren't failing, we are living.

'1.The ultimate paradox of getting better is this: You cannot have a life until you are well, but you cannot be well until you have a life. Almost all of your struggles in recovery will come from this. 

2. You must start creating a life, even if you don’t feel completely better yet. I know you love to-do lists, so fill them now with tasks to help you connect with the world again. Texting that friend you haven’t talked to in ages. Applying to that job. Writing letters. Reading books. These things are more of your recovery than the meal plans and doctors and perfectly-filtered pictures of your oatmeal will ever be. 

3. The problems your eating disorder helped you to run from are going to be back and all-too-alive when you hit a certain point. The idea that recovery is nothing but ice cream and sunshine is a lie. If it was raining when you left, it will be raining when you come back. Don’t quit therapy. You are going to need to learn to deal with the clouds in a new way, and it’s going to be pretty terrible sometimes. 

4. You may find yourself thinking about the eating disorder now more than ever. While you’re walking to class, talking to friends. It will be a drumbeat in the back of your head, whispering, “you’re not sick anymore, but remember when…” 

5. You will look at sick photos and have the odd sensation of both wanting to go back and feeling that even your lowest wasn’t enough. It will leave knots in your stomach, because you will feel your get-out-of-life free card fading. If not your sickest, how much will it take to finally get the comfort you’ve been searching for? It will occur to you that the sense of peace for which you were destroying your life was all just a mirage. You will quickly tuck this terrifying thought away. 

8. Recovery is not life. Recovery is a protected, pre-portioned, planned path towards Better, and life is none of those things. Life is messy. Life is heartbreaking. Life is excessive and bright and bold. 

9. You were wired in such away that the world has always felt a bit too loud. Studies show that criticism hits your brain harder than your friends’, that you empathize more deeply with those around you, that you are more sensitive to pain. You became a professional harm-avoider not because you were weak, but because you were trying to survive. Don’t compare yourself to others. Remember that your brain has the volume turned up much louder than theirs. 

10. At some point, the unfairness of this all will hit you. This is good sign. It means you are coming to believe two important truths that you before never quite internalized: 1. You did not choose this. 2. You did not deserve this. 

11. When the eating disorder leaves, there will be a gaping space where it once was. You will not know what to do with this. You will first try to fill it with Recovery. Then you may try other things: A relapse. An obsession with fitness. A boy. A girl. Constant reminiscing on your illness. You will wonder what on earth you filled this space with before getting sick. 

12. I know you feel like you should have it figured out by now, and I know how much you hate uncertainty. But the truth is that learning how to fill this vacancy is going to be a lifelong pursuit. And you have only just begun. 

13. Here’s the important part: Everyone around you is doing just the same. Those still in their eating disorders have plugged up their holes with illness and destruction, but you’re not one of them anymore. You are one of the vulnerable again, and unlike them, every day you are becoming. 

14. The pain of becoming is constant and real. 

15. In the end, you will have a whole life to show for it.'

Thank you J Bird. We are becoming.

xx

This too shall pass

 Today has been horrible, and it feels like the next few days will be around the same intensity, lots of instability, unpredictability, triggers and change.

My old coping mechanism for when things became overwhelming was my Eating Disorder. 

It blocked out the anxiety, the feelings and the vulnerability I felt, nothing could hurt me when I was already hurting myself, it didn't matter if things were going wrong because I was so wrapped up in my ED, I would just numb my emotions through my ED. I was so terrified of failing or of the things that felt so unstable that anorexia was a way of hiding from them, when you enter the anorexic bubble its all the world becomes, you effectively shrink away from everything else.

Stress and the feeling of failure makes me want to disappear, anorexia provided me with that possibility.

So now when things become overwhelming and unstable I find myself struggling to cope, I cannot use my old coping mechanisms to block out the emotions, but yet I haven't found a way to be able to sit with them. Its tough because even though I don't use the behaviors from my ED my brain tells me to, screams at me to, to help it to cope/not feel. This means that even though I am not using my old method of coping it's not because it hasn't crossed my mind, it's because logically I know that, what I would tell myself, is just a day of relief would spiral into more, and then that would be a bigger problem.

There is no purpose to this blog, I just know that a lot of people are struggling right now, and I guess that today I was one of them.

Life is unpredictable, ironically that is one thing that we can predict. Today has shown me that during times like now that my brain will automatically jump to my engrained coping mechanism. It's shown me that even though that is my automatic response, it doesn't have to be my only one. It's shown me that maybe recovery is about accepting that you have to feel the anxiety, that you can make it through unpredictable times.

Maybe it's about remembering the cliche sayings that are thrown at us in every treatment unit, that

'This too shall pass'

'A day at a time'

'The only way out is through'

There are a lot of people struggling right now, and for those people that need someone to tell them that it gets easier, it does, I'll be that person, it gets better. 

Today I really flipping struggled, the anxiety was suffocating and I cried more then I care to admit to, but I already know that tomorrow is a new day.
I already know that this stressful period will pass and I will be glad that I didn't turn to my ED to cope, and that will make me stronger.

I already know that days like this do not out weigh the days of freedom, and those days of freedom are worth it, oh so worth it. 

Future

Timehop; it can be incredibly amusing and incredibly unneeded.

It can also remind you of the past and help you appreciate the present.

Yesterday it reminded me that it was the 31st March, it reminded me that a year a go I was desperately questioning my flaws.

It reminded me that 2 years a go I was dying, that I felt unloved by the person I was with and that my world was crumbling.

It reminded me that 3 years a go I was getting married. 

In reminding me of all these past events, past events that, lets be honest, I would cut out from my life if a magic Genie approached me and offered me the chance, it brought my brain to the present. This sounds like a trivial thing, don't we always live in the present?, but not for some and certainly not for me. I've been stuck in this mid 20's phase, a phase that no one tells you about, the one where you desperately want more out of life and just want to get the future sorted, concrete, secure. 

I am impatient and because I know what I want I just want to get to the finish line, now please, no seriously, now please? I guess in a way it gets more complicated, through having many months of my MA being told 'no' I automatically feel like I can't do it, with such a gap I feel out of the loop writing wise and that push back into essay writing is not a welcomed one. I have re entered a world where I am questioning my capability, and with so much doubt and insecurity (sorry I know that's not an attractive trait) the future not only feels far away but also a bit unobtainable. 

Then good old Timehop reminded me, the 31st last year, 2 years a go and 3 years a go, and it brought me to today. 

The 31st this year I got up early, got in my car (because yes I now own a car), 

I drove to Southampton (because yes I am now healthy enough to be legally allowed to drive), 

I went to The Priory (not for myself) 

and interviewed an Eating Disorder Consultant (once again not for myself but for research),

and I was shown around the Unit and introduced to nurses (not as a potential patient but as a professional).

I then went to visit my best friend and beautiful God son.

I spent time with my family.

I woke up looking forward to driving myself home and to spending time with someone who makes me very happy.

I guess what I am trying to say is that sometimes we can spend so much time wanting more, always wanting to get to the next step, wanting the future to happen now, that we forget that we are already in a future that we used to be so impatient for. We are always warned that life goes so fast, and I can see why, because we are always one step ahead in our minds/wants/needs and never really enjoying what we have right now, or for some just stepping back and seeing how far we have come.

Good old Timehop :)

 

 

Having THAT conversation.

'You must do the things you think you cannot do.'
Eleanor Roosevelt

 Next week is Eating Disorder Awareness Week 2015, yes another one, and once again I find myself wondering how I feel about it. Luckily I will be on holiday in Center Parcs with my boyfriend and family so I'll be away from all of the very unnecessary before and after pictures that make me want to shout and scream so much, yes we all know what the conventional anorexic looks like, lets not (excuse the pun) feed into that stereotype anymore please.

Every year I have participated and even used it as an oppurtunity to take a step forward in my own recovery, in fact it helped me say the words 'I have an Eating Disorder' out loud for the first time after my first hospital admission. 

Last year it wasn't so much a step forward for myself but more of trying to raise awareness that recovery was possible, that there was hope for those that are in the depth of the darkness, that there was a way out of the torment, and even though I am not there yet I still believe this.

This year the most important thing that has happened in terms of my recovery is people calling me out on my slips, people caring enough to talk to me when they see my strength falter. These conversations can be so crucial to someone at any stage of their Eating Disorder. I cannot stress enough how much good it can do if done in a sensitive manner.

Essentially starting off a conversation with someone can be nerve racking, and depending on where they are on their journey you could get a number of responses, but I promise you that having that scary conversation can potentially make such a big difference.

When I was first ill I hated the people that would try to talk to me, I would put up a barrier and become defensive, but I would always go away and think about it, and a small part of me would know that they were right, and I now have so much admiration for the people that approached me. 

Later on down the line the people that spoke to me would just be met with confusion, denial and ambivalence, I would feel so touched that they cared but not quite understand why they were being so dramatic, but knowing someone was worried and cared that much really helped me start to doubt that maybe my Eating Disorder was dangerous, maybe I did really need to make changes, maybe I was about to lose everything.

Either way having that conversation got the real part of me thinking, and any anger that came out was from my Eating Disorder, it was being challenged and confronted, it had been seen and it was becoming difficult to get away with. The Eating Disorder part of me was scared, which made me scared.

Now the conversations that I have, as heart breaking as they are, pull me out of any form of denial that I've been in, they open my eyes to the slips that I have allowed because, well, as long as I'm not as bad as I used to be right? Wrong. A million times wrong, but I could of gone on letting these slips happen day after day had I not been called out on them, and for that I will always be grateful.

So if you know someone that needs a conversation, be brave enough to have it. Sensitively confront the Eating Disorder and let it know that it's not getting away unseen.

The MIND slogan is 'It's time to talk' and it is.
That conversation could make a world of difference, I know all of mine did.  

The end of limbo.

A very very good friend of mine once described Anorexia in a way that left me speechless. She said that 

'Anorexia is an unwelcome visitor that sits in the back of your head, eternally. It’s a radio frequency I can’t quite tune out of. I can, consciously tune into other stations at the same time, and play them louder, but I’m still ignoring it crackling away in the background. Sometimes something great happens – and it’s like my favourite song has come on which I love singing along to and getting lost in, and for a moment I’m so enjoying it I manage to tune completely out of stupid-anorexia.fm which is playing behind it. But then that song finishes and I can hear it again. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to consciously ignore a noise, but it’s very hard. Sometimes your frustration with not being able to turn it off comes to a point where you almost think just turning it up loud enough to actually hear it properly would be better. At least then you can hear what’s actually playing on that station. Of course, I know that’s a stupid thing to do…but that’s the level of desperation this takes you to.'

I remembered this metaphor because just recently I have found myself tuning into stupid-anorexia.fm when I am on my own
and I've felt guilty for it as I have things and people in my life that make me so very happy; then I remembered this metaphor and realised that just because I have found myself tuning in when I am on my own it doesn't belittle the happiness felt when with others, or when listening to the favorite songs. It doesn't mean that you can't be happy at other times, it doesn't mean that you can't appreciate the other stations, the happiness you feel when surrounded by those you love.
It is, however, a scary thought to need the noise of others to be able to tune out of that ever so suffocating stupid-anorexia.fm.

For a few months now I have been in limbo. It has felt like I have just been waiting for the go ahead to get on with my life, I guess in a way, due to my uni course, I was. All I know is that, life wise, I have wanted more, I have felt inadequate and stagnant, not moving forward and desperately trying to not move backwards. Going nowhere.
It got to the point where because I wasn't moving forward I craved giving up and moving backwards, giving in and turning the volume up on the station that refused to go away, tuning in and checking out. I have been very lucky because even though I'd like to believe that I am stronger then that on my own, I also have someone who makes me extremely happy and with just his presence manages to tune out the crackling of stupid-anorexia.fm completley.

 The reality of recovery is that it is really fucking hard, excuse my french.

It is a fight, every second of every minute of ever day. You don't just decide to get better, you have to decide it over and over again, and sometimes you can't, sometimes you slip up, but that doesn't mean your failing, it means you have a chance to decide to fight at the next hurdle. The challenges are exhausting both mentally and physically, and even when challenges are achieved it doesn't end there, there's usually an aftermath of guilt and terror, a countless amount of 'what have I done's and break downs and your brain screaming horrible things at you. The act of recovering goes against every single fiber of your being, it is wanting to do one thing with all of your heart and soul but knowing that your life depends on you doing the exact opposite.
Its going against what has been engrained to keep you sane for such a long time, it is exhausting, it is hell, but it isn't permanent.
 

It is hard but it does get easier, life takes over, the decisions become less hard to make, the days of falling some how become less, you find ways of coping with the difficult feelings. It takes time, a lot of tears, a lot of challenges but you CAN get through the tunnel that feels so dark and scary.

You then get the chance to build the life that anorexia made you so fearful of, and you can find that the fear was unnecessary and that life has some amazing moments that you would of missed out on if you had carried on down the path of self destruction.

My limbo is over, and it is a relief, I have my ethics approval and it feels like I can breathe again. It feels like I have finally shaken the label of 'vulnerable', and I can now start to move on to another chapter in my life.
But this time last week I felt like I never would, I felt like none of this would ever go away, I felt like I was in my worst nightmare, in the nearly, not quite, nowhere. The recovery that meant you weren't ill anymore but not yet well enough to be enough for 'life'.

It just goes to show that when you think you have reached your breaking point, you're low that will send you backwards, that you might be closer out of the tunnel then you think. 

Never give up. Recovery is so hard and it can feel like you aren't making progress, but keep at it, you might be closer out then you think. Trust the process. It's going to be ok.

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.