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.