Monday, 30 January 2012
Saturday, 28 January 2012
Fate
*TRIGGER WARNING*
I attempted suicide on the 7th of September 2011.
If I had succeeded, I wouldn't even be here. I'd have been dead for over four months.
That's a fucking weird thought. The idea that my parents might have forgotten the sound of my voice by now has really shaken me up.
My best friend might have gotten over the fact that I'd be dead.
My sister might just think of me late at night when she has nothing else to think about.
My school would have moved on, the teachers already forgetting the name of "the girl who killed herself".
Have I left anything of value behind? I don't know.
But maybe I'm here because of fate. Maybe I wasn't meant to die on the 7th September. Maybe I am destined to be sat here right now, writing all about it.
Partly, it gives me hope that there is a reason I'm here. Partly it makes me sad to think how easily I could have been forgotten. And then another part of me wonders whether I really am meant to be here, or if I should have stayed in that bath, let myself bleed to death, let my parents find me...
Mind is fucked right now, I don't know anything at the moment.
I attempted suicide on the 7th of September 2011.
If I had succeeded, I wouldn't even be here. I'd have been dead for over four months.
That's a fucking weird thought. The idea that my parents might have forgotten the sound of my voice by now has really shaken me up.
My best friend might have gotten over the fact that I'd be dead.
My sister might just think of me late at night when she has nothing else to think about.
My school would have moved on, the teachers already forgetting the name of "the girl who killed herself".
Have I left anything of value behind? I don't know.
But maybe I'm here because of fate. Maybe I wasn't meant to die on the 7th September. Maybe I am destined to be sat here right now, writing all about it.
Partly, it gives me hope that there is a reason I'm here. Partly it makes me sad to think how easily I could have been forgotten. And then another part of me wonders whether I really am meant to be here, or if I should have stayed in that bath, let myself bleed to death, let my parents find me...
Mind is fucked right now, I don't know anything at the moment.
Monday, 23 January 2012
Early Beginnings
Now, I know it isn't the same with everyone, but I have for a long age had problems with food, and body image. I think these began very young, around 3 or 4, because I was a classic chubby child while my sister was a skinny waif-like 2 year old. This feeling of being bigger, the need to compare myself to everyone, was made worse when I started school. There, I became very close with a girl who was again, super skinny. We would play dress up, and she could always wear the nicest fairy costume or look the cutest.
However, I did not starve myself or blame food for a while after that. I hated how I looked, believed with all my heart and soul I was ugly, and often would eat too much and feel guilty afterwards. Aged 5 I switched to skimmed milk from semi-skimmed, aged 6 I started eating Special K after hearing it would magically help me lose weight. I would steal diet books from my mum, I would hide while my mum did excercise videos, doing the excercises behind the sofa or in another room. My body issues consumed me.
Aged 7, I tried to make myself sick. I had never heard of bulemia, I didn't realise it was a problem or a medical disorder. All I knew was that I wanted that food out of me. Luckily, I didn't succeed, although I tried right the way through my first year of secondary school. I began cutting out of frustration around the age of 11, because it was at this point I began taking on a lot of my friends' problems, including drug addiction, self harm and depression, which naturally had an adverse effect on me. Aged just 12, I succeeded, and through the next two years I made myself sick on a regular basis until June of the year I turned 14. This was triggered by unrest at home; Dad's job was in jeopardy and everything seemed to spiral out of control. Throwing myself fully into an eating disorder (although I did not acknowledge I had a problem until years later) helped me establish some control, or so I thought.
At this point, I finally faced up to the fact that I had a real problem. I gained about 6llbs, but didn't care because I was happy. That all fell apart the summer of that year - I won't go into it - which caused a very quick decline into anorexia. My weight plunged, everything began to spiral out of control. I quickly lost 9llbs in just 2 weeks, I barely ate, I passed out regularly, my parents and friends and even teachers were very worried. I began seeing a psych every month, a therapist weekly, and going for weekly weigh ins. I was threatened with inpatient treatment, which triggered a desire to break free.
So, having problems with food from such a young age must mean something?
Increasingly, we see stories of 9 year old anorexics on life support, or 8 year old bullemics being sent to clinics to recover; isn't it horrific? That our society has reached the point where children this young feel such a self-destructive impulse?
One argument might be that those who struggle with mental health issues have different neurological patterns in their brains. This scientific theory is highly disputed and countless studies disprove and prove it. Another might be exposure to the media brainwashed me, even at a young age, which is potentially true, although I always felt something a little deeper. I haven't suffered terrible losses, or been abused. My parents told me I was beautiful, Mum didn't obsessively diet, my Dad is a little overweight but never dangerously so; nurture seems to be out. That leaves nature..
I don't know exactly what it means, but it is proving to make recovery even harder to manage; overcoming habits and mindsets which have been deeply embedded all my life. Maybe self-destruction and self-hatred are part of the make-up of my mind. These thoughts get inside every second of my life, constricting it, suffocating it, leaving me feeling worthless. I'm tired of it.
Fuck nature vs nurture, I'm fighting back.
However, I did not starve myself or blame food for a while after that. I hated how I looked, believed with all my heart and soul I was ugly, and often would eat too much and feel guilty afterwards. Aged 5 I switched to skimmed milk from semi-skimmed, aged 6 I started eating Special K after hearing it would magically help me lose weight. I would steal diet books from my mum, I would hide while my mum did excercise videos, doing the excercises behind the sofa or in another room. My body issues consumed me.
Aged 7, I tried to make myself sick. I had never heard of bulemia, I didn't realise it was a problem or a medical disorder. All I knew was that I wanted that food out of me. Luckily, I didn't succeed, although I tried right the way through my first year of secondary school. I began cutting out of frustration around the age of 11, because it was at this point I began taking on a lot of my friends' problems, including drug addiction, self harm and depression, which naturally had an adverse effect on me. Aged just 12, I succeeded, and through the next two years I made myself sick on a regular basis until June of the year I turned 14. This was triggered by unrest at home; Dad's job was in jeopardy and everything seemed to spiral out of control. Throwing myself fully into an eating disorder (although I did not acknowledge I had a problem until years later) helped me establish some control, or so I thought.
At this point, I finally faced up to the fact that I had a real problem. I gained about 6llbs, but didn't care because I was happy. That all fell apart the summer of that year - I won't go into it - which caused a very quick decline into anorexia. My weight plunged, everything began to spiral out of control. I quickly lost 9llbs in just 2 weeks, I barely ate, I passed out regularly, my parents and friends and even teachers were very worried. I began seeing a psych every month, a therapist weekly, and going for weekly weigh ins. I was threatened with inpatient treatment, which triggered a desire to break free.
So, having problems with food from such a young age must mean something?
Increasingly, we see stories of 9 year old anorexics on life support, or 8 year old bullemics being sent to clinics to recover; isn't it horrific? That our society has reached the point where children this young feel such a self-destructive impulse?
One argument might be that those who struggle with mental health issues have different neurological patterns in their brains. This scientific theory is highly disputed and countless studies disprove and prove it. Another might be exposure to the media brainwashed me, even at a young age, which is potentially true, although I always felt something a little deeper. I haven't suffered terrible losses, or been abused. My parents told me I was beautiful, Mum didn't obsessively diet, my Dad is a little overweight but never dangerously so; nurture seems to be out. That leaves nature..
I don't know exactly what it means, but it is proving to make recovery even harder to manage; overcoming habits and mindsets which have been deeply embedded all my life. Maybe self-destruction and self-hatred are part of the make-up of my mind. These thoughts get inside every second of my life, constricting it, suffocating it, leaving me feeling worthless. I'm tired of it.
Fuck nature vs nurture, I'm fighting back.
Friday, 20 January 2012
Ups And Downs
Sorry I haven't written for a while, I've had a pretty rough week. The roughness of the week is actually what's inspired me to write on here, because it's only struck me this week that people think once you start eating again, your problem is solved.
Friends think now that I'm not passing out in lessons, throwing up every day after lunch, losing weight at an alarming weight, now I'm not skeletal and I actually eat that I'm okay. And you know what? I'm not. I'm better, much better than I was, maybe even ever happen. But the truth is, even in this stage of recovery, there are days, sometimes weeks, where you just genuinely will feel shit. It's hard though, when something is so much less noticeable or obviously problematic to alert people to the fact that it's still not okay to talk about weight or ask me for diet tips. Not yet. I'm not ready. I just want to shout "guys, I'm not quite healed yet, please just give me a hug". As awful as this sounds, it's almost made me want to cut, to make me see some physical embodiment of this not-being-okay feeling I keep having. The ED thoughts still exist, and a part of me worries they always will.
I don't even think it's just friends and family who think recovery means eating and then, suddenly, you're fine. I think a lot of sufferers will embark on what truly is a long journey to recovery, thinking that they'll wake up tomorrow no longer having these thoughts. That they'll be fine.
I'm not going to bullshit you: Recovery is fucking hard. It really is. You'll have your ED days, you'll probably purge up your dinner, or go 2 days without eating. That's part of the battle, you see. It's how you overcome the bumps in the road that really matters, because recovery requires an inner strength to keep going and keep pushing forward. The first few weeks are instrumental. I read my diaries from around May last year, when I decided to try and recover, and every other day I decide I can't do it. And you'll feel like that! You WILL feel nothing matters anymore, you will feel alone, and scared.
Truth is though, your worst days in recovery will be better than your best days in relapse.
The rest of the world may not understand that because you don't look emaciated you no longer have an eating disorder; or because you no longer are covered in cuts that you're no longer depressed. Almost all of the strength to make it to recovery is needed from within you.
And so I leave you with the ever wise words of my drunken school friend.
I once had somebody tell me "You know, you look so frail and fragile on the outside, and yet on the inside you're one of the strongest people I know. You got some fucking balls, you know that?"
Friends think now that I'm not passing out in lessons, throwing up every day after lunch, losing weight at an alarming weight, now I'm not skeletal and I actually eat that I'm okay. And you know what? I'm not. I'm better, much better than I was, maybe even ever happen. But the truth is, even in this stage of recovery, there are days, sometimes weeks, where you just genuinely will feel shit. It's hard though, when something is so much less noticeable or obviously problematic to alert people to the fact that it's still not okay to talk about weight or ask me for diet tips. Not yet. I'm not ready. I just want to shout "guys, I'm not quite healed yet, please just give me a hug". As awful as this sounds, it's almost made me want to cut, to make me see some physical embodiment of this not-being-okay feeling I keep having. The ED thoughts still exist, and a part of me worries they always will.
I don't even think it's just friends and family who think recovery means eating and then, suddenly, you're fine. I think a lot of sufferers will embark on what truly is a long journey to recovery, thinking that they'll wake up tomorrow no longer having these thoughts. That they'll be fine.
I'm not going to bullshit you: Recovery is fucking hard. It really is. You'll have your ED days, you'll probably purge up your dinner, or go 2 days without eating. That's part of the battle, you see. It's how you overcome the bumps in the road that really matters, because recovery requires an inner strength to keep going and keep pushing forward. The first few weeks are instrumental. I read my diaries from around May last year, when I decided to try and recover, and every other day I decide I can't do it. And you'll feel like that! You WILL feel nothing matters anymore, you will feel alone, and scared.
Truth is though, your worst days in recovery will be better than your best days in relapse.
The rest of the world may not understand that because you don't look emaciated you no longer have an eating disorder; or because you no longer are covered in cuts that you're no longer depressed. Almost all of the strength to make it to recovery is needed from within you.
And so I leave you with the ever wise words of my drunken school friend.
I once had somebody tell me "You know, you look so frail and fragile on the outside, and yet on the inside you're one of the strongest people I know. You got some fucking balls, you know that?"
Saturday, 14 January 2012
Never Felt So Alone?
I think for me, the absolute worst part of anorexia was the total feeling of being alone. The sense of isolation; of watching life pass you by from within your own little bubble, where nobody sees you or cares. How you can be surrounded by crowds of people, friends and family and teachers and strangers, yet still feel horrifically lonely.
Maybe it's the effect of starvation on the brain, God knows lack of food will cause you to feel depressed and like shit. Or maybe you're so focussed, so totally absorbed in your own personal hell that is anorexia, that you can't connect to anything around you? I would be in his arms and still feel alone. I would be with my family and feel like there should only have ever been three people there. I would literally start to wonder if my existance mattered to anybody at all.
Of course, now I know and see that it does, and always has done. I managed to convince myself that the looks of terror in my parents' eyes were about something else, not the fact that I was becoming more skeletal by the second. I managed to drown out the sound of my sister crying because she thought I was going to starve to death. My friends' desperate pleas for me to eat were them trying to make me feel better, or because they were jealous I was getting thinner, not because they cared. I just returned to my little world where all that mattered was the fact that you could see my ribs through my t-shirts and my hipbones were so sharp my tummy wouldn't touch the floor when I lay on my front. Nobody there but me, and my personified eating disorder.
You see, when anorexia is present, there isn't room for anyone else. Not only does nothing else really matter, but if you don't throw yourself into weight loss one hundred percent, the voice will scream in your ears again.
"Don't be stupid, Kelly, of course you can't go to that party, you'll have to eat food and then you'll get even fatter"
"But, I want to see my friends, I feel so lonely"
"Pathetic, they don't want to see you anyway, they just invited you because otherwise you'd probably cry"
"No, they want me there, I think?"
"You're too fat, they're all prettier than you, why would they be friends with a fat little slut like you?"
"True... *turns down invite*"
On and on this conversation would rage in my head until finally I took the stand.
I broke the little bubble.
I picked up the fork.
I accepted the invite.
I launched back into life again.
"Life begins at the edge of your comfort zone"
Maybe it's the effect of starvation on the brain, God knows lack of food will cause you to feel depressed and like shit. Or maybe you're so focussed, so totally absorbed in your own personal hell that is anorexia, that you can't connect to anything around you? I would be in his arms and still feel alone. I would be with my family and feel like there should only have ever been three people there. I would literally start to wonder if my existance mattered to anybody at all.
Of course, now I know and see that it does, and always has done. I managed to convince myself that the looks of terror in my parents' eyes were about something else, not the fact that I was becoming more skeletal by the second. I managed to drown out the sound of my sister crying because she thought I was going to starve to death. My friends' desperate pleas for me to eat were them trying to make me feel better, or because they were jealous I was getting thinner, not because they cared. I just returned to my little world where all that mattered was the fact that you could see my ribs through my t-shirts and my hipbones were so sharp my tummy wouldn't touch the floor when I lay on my front. Nobody there but me, and my personified eating disorder.
You see, when anorexia is present, there isn't room for anyone else. Not only does nothing else really matter, but if you don't throw yourself into weight loss one hundred percent, the voice will scream in your ears again.
"Don't be stupid, Kelly, of course you can't go to that party, you'll have to eat food and then you'll get even fatter"
"But, I want to see my friends, I feel so lonely"
"Pathetic, they don't want to see you anyway, they just invited you because otherwise you'd probably cry"
"No, they want me there, I think?"
"You're too fat, they're all prettier than you, why would they be friends with a fat little slut like you?"
"True... *turns down invite*"
On and on this conversation would rage in my head until finally I took the stand.
I broke the little bubble.
I picked up the fork.
I accepted the invite.
I launched back into life again.
"Life begins at the edge of your comfort zone"
Saturday, 7 January 2012
All Shapes And Sizes
I recently made some remarks about an obese blogger who had a "thinspo" blog and claimed to be anorexic, despite having a BMI of 31. I recieved a lot feedback and I feel the need to clear some things up, and mostly people massively misunderstood what I was saying. I need to be clear here; these are my personal opinions.
I totally disagree with the idea that somebody has to be underweight to have an eating disorder. I myself maintained a healthy weight whilst being bulemic for nearly 2 years before descending into anorexia, and still looking back would say I had an eating disorder. Not to mention the fact that binge eating disorder is as legitimate a problem as anorexia or bulemia; obese, overweight, healthy, underweight and emaciated people can ALL SUFFER from equally bad eating disorders.
However, I do maintain that somebody of that size is not anorexic in the fullest sense of the word. They may have anorexic thoughts and feelings, they may be categorised as bulemic, they may be depressed, they may purge, but in my PERSONAL opinion, someone who is obese does not have anorexia. In the example I made the comments about, this obese girl had been posting "thinspiration", something which I detest regardless of who is posting it, and encouraging people who are already severely underweight and very much at risk of DEATH to continue losing weight. In my eyes, this is not only sick, but also unbelievably hypocritical, as well as immoral. I detest any kind of pro-ana movement, but for me the fact that this girl is obese and proudly declaring her 'anorexia' made me feel physically ill.
There are MANY girls and guys out there who are overweight and even obese suffering from eating disorders, and their issues are just as important and valid as those of us who maintain lower weights.
Any questions? Hit my tumblr
www.recovery-roundabouts.tumblr.com
I totally disagree with the idea that somebody has to be underweight to have an eating disorder. I myself maintained a healthy weight whilst being bulemic for nearly 2 years before descending into anorexia, and still looking back would say I had an eating disorder. Not to mention the fact that binge eating disorder is as legitimate a problem as anorexia or bulemia; obese, overweight, healthy, underweight and emaciated people can ALL SUFFER from equally bad eating disorders.
However, I do maintain that somebody of that size is not anorexic in the fullest sense of the word. They may have anorexic thoughts and feelings, they may be categorised as bulemic, they may be depressed, they may purge, but in my PERSONAL opinion, someone who is obese does not have anorexia. In the example I made the comments about, this obese girl had been posting "thinspiration", something which I detest regardless of who is posting it, and encouraging people who are already severely underweight and very much at risk of DEATH to continue losing weight. In my eyes, this is not only sick, but also unbelievably hypocritical, as well as immoral. I detest any kind of pro-ana movement, but for me the fact that this girl is obese and proudly declaring her 'anorexia' made me feel physically ill.
There are MANY girls and guys out there who are overweight and even obese suffering from eating disorders, and their issues are just as important and valid as those of us who maintain lower weights.
Any questions? Hit my tumblr
www.recovery-roundabouts.tumblr.com
Friday, 6 January 2012
All The Things I would Say
So I know there's so much STUFF that can build up inside you that you really want to say to people, and when stuff like that gets all built up it can stress me out, don't know about the rest of you, but it does me. SO I am going to write everything here. Maybe you guys should try it, write it on a piece of paper, then think about what you can logically say or what is better left unsaid, then burn the paper.
C - "I know I hurt you, I'm so so sorry, but the truth is you found me at just the right time; you found me when nobody else was looking just when I needed you the most, thank you. I will always love you for that. I wish you could see how great you really are."
J - "You know I'm in love with you, which is why I don't fucking understand how you can keep breaking my heart over and over when you know that you don't feel the same way anymore. I'm getting over it, okay, I'm trying to anyway, but by hooking up with me you just make me fall for you all over again. Aside from that, and a few other times when you have fucked me around friendship and relationship-wise, you've been my best friend, and in all seriousness nothing will ever erase what we have been through together. Nothing. I love you, and I hope we stay friends even through college and uni"
B - "You make me feel so loved, darling, and for that I thank you. I have fun around you, even if I can't be myself, and quite a lot of the time you just make me feel small and stupid. Most of the time, you are sweet and caring and loving and I'm so sorry I can't necessarily find it in myself to reciprocate those feelings 100%"
H - "You are a DICK. We say we're friends, but every second I spend with you, I worry you're going to make another 'hilarious' mark about the fact that I starve myself or I have done regrettable things, and you're going to laugh at me and make my friends laugh at me. And I'll stand there and fucking smile, as I fight back the tears, and I'll have to eat because you've just said that. It's only when I'm broken down on the school bathroom floor coughing up blood that it'll truly hit me how fucking DEEP you cut. THINK about how your words hurt, you bastard."
Jeb - "My best girl mate, you've been with it through me most of the time. Sometimes I don't think you trust or even like me, but deep down we love each other to bits and I am very grateful to you. I think about us a lot, where we'll each end up, and where we started. We're so different, and yet that in itself has brought us together. Even if we lose touch, I will never forget you as long as I live. Love you forever."
S - "You make me laugh, but you've made me cry. Sometimes I worry you're going to really hurt yourself, so please be careful okay? I love you to bits, you make me smile on my worst days."
M - "I hope you know that I will never forget you telling me I starve myself for attention. Never. Anybody who would do this for attention is seriously a sick masochistic person, and you belittling the hardest thing I have ever had to face is something that cut pretty deep. I have forgiven you, but I'll never forget. I made myself throw up the second I read that message you know, and then didn't eat for 24 hours. If J hadn't called me, I might not even have been here. I love you now."
E - "STOP ATTENTION SEEKING. Jesus Christ, yes you have some issues but refusing to help yourself and rubbing your issues in everybody else's faces is selfish and stupid. You're egocentric and self absorbed and if you took a second to look around you, you might see you're not the only one hurting. Seriously, get a grip. Others can't help you if you don't help yourself."
D - "You take the piss, I laugh along, but in truth every time I see you I remember what you said to me 3 years ago. And I truly can't forgive you, never ever ever. I cried myself to sleep night after night, repeating what you said over and over, hating myself because of you. You don't know what I had going on at that point, how could you say those things to me?"
Mum - "I'm sorry for being such a fuck up, Mum, you deserved a beautiful daughter like R, but you've still got here. I'm sorry my issues embarass you in front of the neighbors, I am trying, I really am."
Dad - "I'm sorry about that time you were banging on the door and I didn't answer so you got made. I was throwing up blood."
R - "Please never follow your big sister down this horrible fucking road. EVER. It's not worth it, I promise you, it has ruined me, broken me, made the last few years feel impossible. So I need you to be stronger and to develop into the beautiful amazing person I know you can be. I love you more than anybody else on this whole entire planet, I'm sorry I haven't said this enough."
G - "Self centred, but good hearted deep down. You helped me through a lot during our friendship, but you also were the trigger for my worst relapse to date. You have a double personality; a really nice, caring friend, and a total attention seeking dick. Please, just pick one and stick with it, it's a total mindfuck trying to second guess which one you are."
A and O - "Just truly lovely people, I love you as my totally uncomplicated friends. You don't know about my issues, and you don't need to. Love hanging out with you guys, I feel totally carefree!"
WOW I feel better for doing that ahaha.
C - "I know I hurt you, I'm so so sorry, but the truth is you found me at just the right time; you found me when nobody else was looking just when I needed you the most, thank you. I will always love you for that. I wish you could see how great you really are."
J - "You know I'm in love with you, which is why I don't fucking understand how you can keep breaking my heart over and over when you know that you don't feel the same way anymore. I'm getting over it, okay, I'm trying to anyway, but by hooking up with me you just make me fall for you all over again. Aside from that, and a few other times when you have fucked me around friendship and relationship-wise, you've been my best friend, and in all seriousness nothing will ever erase what we have been through together. Nothing. I love you, and I hope we stay friends even through college and uni"
B - "You make me feel so loved, darling, and for that I thank you. I have fun around you, even if I can't be myself, and quite a lot of the time you just make me feel small and stupid. Most of the time, you are sweet and caring and loving and I'm so sorry I can't necessarily find it in myself to reciprocate those feelings 100%"
H - "You are a DICK. We say we're friends, but every second I spend with you, I worry you're going to make another 'hilarious' mark about the fact that I starve myself or I have done regrettable things, and you're going to laugh at me and make my friends laugh at me. And I'll stand there and fucking smile, as I fight back the tears, and I'll have to eat because you've just said that. It's only when I'm broken down on the school bathroom floor coughing up blood that it'll truly hit me how fucking DEEP you cut. THINK about how your words hurt, you bastard."
Jeb - "My best girl mate, you've been with it through me most of the time. Sometimes I don't think you trust or even like me, but deep down we love each other to bits and I am very grateful to you. I think about us a lot, where we'll each end up, and where we started. We're so different, and yet that in itself has brought us together. Even if we lose touch, I will never forget you as long as I live. Love you forever."
S - "You make me laugh, but you've made me cry. Sometimes I worry you're going to really hurt yourself, so please be careful okay? I love you to bits, you make me smile on my worst days."
M - "I hope you know that I will never forget you telling me I starve myself for attention. Never. Anybody who would do this for attention is seriously a sick masochistic person, and you belittling the hardest thing I have ever had to face is something that cut pretty deep. I have forgiven you, but I'll never forget. I made myself throw up the second I read that message you know, and then didn't eat for 24 hours. If J hadn't called me, I might not even have been here. I love you now."
E - "STOP ATTENTION SEEKING. Jesus Christ, yes you have some issues but refusing to help yourself and rubbing your issues in everybody else's faces is selfish and stupid. You're egocentric and self absorbed and if you took a second to look around you, you might see you're not the only one hurting. Seriously, get a grip. Others can't help you if you don't help yourself."
D - "You take the piss, I laugh along, but in truth every time I see you I remember what you said to me 3 years ago. And I truly can't forgive you, never ever ever. I cried myself to sleep night after night, repeating what you said over and over, hating myself because of you. You don't know what I had going on at that point, how could you say those things to me?"
Mum - "I'm sorry for being such a fuck up, Mum, you deserved a beautiful daughter like R, but you've still got here. I'm sorry my issues embarass you in front of the neighbors, I am trying, I really am."
Dad - "I'm sorry about that time you were banging on the door and I didn't answer so you got made. I was throwing up blood."
R - "Please never follow your big sister down this horrible fucking road. EVER. It's not worth it, I promise you, it has ruined me, broken me, made the last few years feel impossible. So I need you to be stronger and to develop into the beautiful amazing person I know you can be. I love you more than anybody else on this whole entire planet, I'm sorry I haven't said this enough."
G - "Self centred, but good hearted deep down. You helped me through a lot during our friendship, but you also were the trigger for my worst relapse to date. You have a double personality; a really nice, caring friend, and a total attention seeking dick. Please, just pick one and stick with it, it's a total mindfuck trying to second guess which one you are."
A and O - "Just truly lovely people, I love you as my totally uncomplicated friends. You don't know about my issues, and you don't need to. Love hanging out with you guys, I feel totally carefree!"
WOW I feel better for doing that ahaha.
Thursday, 5 January 2012
R
This thought alone terrifies me. I refused to allow her to come to the family consultation with my psych, I hide everything I possibly can from her, so she thinks I don’t trust her.
I do, I love you so much R. I just can’t handle the idea that you’ll follow your big sister.
BIG sister.
I’ll recover for you :(
Don't be like me, R.
Personifying Your Eating Disorder
The issue of whether giving a name to your eating disorder (e.g. 'Ana' 'Mia' 'Ed') is a highly contentious one, so I thought it is probably a good one to write about.
I'm fairly sure the initial idea came from pro-ED sites, which is why a huge part of the eating disorder community reject the nicknames. You see girls and guys on these sites saying stuff like "Ana is my best friend" or "Mia? Where are you? I need my motivation back!". No joke, actual comments. And so the backlash against such names is totally understandable. Pro ideas are almost totally despised by people with eating disorders, for the reasons I stated in the previous post. This idea of personification is surely just another one of those ideas? I saw one person, when discussing this issue, say; "You don't give diseases names, it's sick. You don't suffer from leukemia and refer to it as "Luke"!" which is a fair point.
Personally, I am all for the personification of eating disorders. (TOTALLY PERSONAL OPINION, FEEL FREE TO DISAGREE!!). For me, it was useful in two ways. For starters, it is a fairly accurate representation of the mental schism that anorexia forges; the feeling that there are two people in your one brain. One is the sensible, rational you, saying "do you want to die? No, of course not. If you were ugly, you wouldn't have a boyfriend. Your friends don't hate you, they just invited you over. How will starving yourself help ANYTHING?". I'm sure a few of you can relate, that voice you wish you'd listened to more, rather than the other voice. "Stupid, fat bitch. Put down that apple. Will it make you happy? No. It'll make you FAT. Fatter than you already are. Stupid whore, your boyfriend doesn't really love you, nor do your friends. They will when you're thin though." You know, the voice that screams in your ears every time you try to eat. So personifying that voice helps you to separate the two, in my view. I was able to believe I wasn't the fucked up one, it was just this stupid bitch Ana, who had got inside my head and was making me act fucked up. Because it sometimes really is your eating disorder clouding your vision when you look in the mirror, or making you run to the bathroom and stick your head down the toilet after a meal.
The second reason, for me, was the idea that it was something I could BEAT, or rather, someone. Naturally competetive, yes, but the main reason is linked to the first; if it is a separate being to you, it is something you can overcome. You can never overcome what YOU are. You can overcome Mia or Ana or ED, because they are just someone you're competing with. You CAN tell them to shut up, and get out your head, and you can pick up a fork and eat just that tiny bit of pasta. Each mouthful allowed me to feel like an accomplishment; I was winning.
So for me, I totally relate to why people choose to personify their eating disorder, but in truth why should it bother anyone either way? Slagging somebody off for using Ana to describe how they aren't feeling themselves is judgement, and way out of order. In the same way, using "Ana" as some kind of fucked up motivational figure is out of order in my eyes. At the end of the day, it's others' people way of coping with an impossible state of mind, not really ours to judge.
Difficult issue, would LOVE to hear you guys' thoughts.
I'm fairly sure the initial idea came from pro-ED sites, which is why a huge part of the eating disorder community reject the nicknames. You see girls and guys on these sites saying stuff like "Ana is my best friend" or "Mia? Where are you? I need my motivation back!". No joke, actual comments. And so the backlash against such names is totally understandable. Pro ideas are almost totally despised by people with eating disorders, for the reasons I stated in the previous post. This idea of personification is surely just another one of those ideas? I saw one person, when discussing this issue, say; "You don't give diseases names, it's sick. You don't suffer from leukemia and refer to it as "Luke"!" which is a fair point.
Personally, I am all for the personification of eating disorders. (TOTALLY PERSONAL OPINION, FEEL FREE TO DISAGREE!!). For me, it was useful in two ways. For starters, it is a fairly accurate representation of the mental schism that anorexia forges; the feeling that there are two people in your one brain. One is the sensible, rational you, saying "do you want to die? No, of course not. If you were ugly, you wouldn't have a boyfriend. Your friends don't hate you, they just invited you over. How will starving yourself help ANYTHING?". I'm sure a few of you can relate, that voice you wish you'd listened to more, rather than the other voice. "Stupid, fat bitch. Put down that apple. Will it make you happy? No. It'll make you FAT. Fatter than you already are. Stupid whore, your boyfriend doesn't really love you, nor do your friends. They will when you're thin though." You know, the voice that screams in your ears every time you try to eat. So personifying that voice helps you to separate the two, in my view. I was able to believe I wasn't the fucked up one, it was just this stupid bitch Ana, who had got inside my head and was making me act fucked up. Because it sometimes really is your eating disorder clouding your vision when you look in the mirror, or making you run to the bathroom and stick your head down the toilet after a meal.
The second reason, for me, was the idea that it was something I could BEAT, or rather, someone. Naturally competetive, yes, but the main reason is linked to the first; if it is a separate being to you, it is something you can overcome. You can never overcome what YOU are. You can overcome Mia or Ana or ED, because they are just someone you're competing with. You CAN tell them to shut up, and get out your head, and you can pick up a fork and eat just that tiny bit of pasta. Each mouthful allowed me to feel like an accomplishment; I was winning.
So for me, I totally relate to why people choose to personify their eating disorder, but in truth why should it bother anyone either way? Slagging somebody off for using Ana to describe how they aren't feeling themselves is judgement, and way out of order. In the same way, using "Ana" as some kind of fucked up motivational figure is out of order in my eyes. At the end of the day, it's others' people way of coping with an impossible state of mind, not really ours to judge.
Difficult issue, would LOVE to hear you guys' thoughts.
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
My Smile
So, yesterday after having braces for 2 and a half years, I finally got them removed. "Big whoop" you might be thinking... But I have pictured this moment where I could confidently smile ever since the second I got them on. And now I can, my teeth are straight and yes I feel confident. But, I don't think that's down to getting my braces off.
It's not just straight teeth and carefully applied lipgloss - I think it's something more. When something small changes, you automatically shine from within, and that happiness makes you feel more beautiful, and look more beautiful to other people. I got lots of compliments from my friends as I flashed them toothy grins at a party last night, but I think it was the smile in my eyes and the smile about my whole persona that made them feel the need to say something.
My smile went missing, along with a huge part of me, when I was truly in the grip of anorexia. My friend J said something, which I will never forget. Ever.
"Maybe it is the weight loss, the gaunt face, the sunken eyes... but I don't think so. Something's changed. Your glow has gone, the glow you used to light up a room with... it's just not here anymore"
I think I still have the message saved on my phone, because in all seriousness that was one of the things I had never considered. On my quest for "beauty" and "control" I had managed to achieve ugliness through the sheer misery I was putting myself through.
A common misconception? Eating disorders are not glamorous or beautiful. For some reason, people seem to believe that anorexia has placed the vital chihuahua as the latest celebrity accessory. This thinspo shit pisses me off beyond belief, how somebody can promote a mental health illness as desirable is totally beyond me. Anybody who needs "thinspiration" or who relies on it for "motivation" does not have an eating disorder. They're following a fad, they're somebody with poor body image, but in my eyes that's not an eating disorder. Eating disorders are disgusting. Quite apart from the physical horrors your body goes through (google it, I won't go into detail), the light behind your eyes is dulled. You have no energy, no spark, no enthusiasm for anything but reducing the number on the scale.
So, treat yourself. Dye your hair, splash out on a new top, do your hair extra nice. Allow yourself to walk down the street with your shoulders back and your head held high with that eating-disorder-I'm-kickin'-some-serious-ass kinda attitude. Don't let that bullshit "once I'm thin I'll be beautiful and happy and successful and confident" fool ya. You'll feel sad and lost, look emaciated and unattractive, and life will all be in black and white.
The truth is, now I have my smile back, I feel almost happy. Something I haven't felt in a long time.
Smile chicas.
It's not just straight teeth and carefully applied lipgloss - I think it's something more. When something small changes, you automatically shine from within, and that happiness makes you feel more beautiful, and look more beautiful to other people. I got lots of compliments from my friends as I flashed them toothy grins at a party last night, but I think it was the smile in my eyes and the smile about my whole persona that made them feel the need to say something.
My smile went missing, along with a huge part of me, when I was truly in the grip of anorexia. My friend J said something, which I will never forget. Ever.
"Maybe it is the weight loss, the gaunt face, the sunken eyes... but I don't think so. Something's changed. Your glow has gone, the glow you used to light up a room with... it's just not here anymore"
I think I still have the message saved on my phone, because in all seriousness that was one of the things I had never considered. On my quest for "beauty" and "control" I had managed to achieve ugliness through the sheer misery I was putting myself through.
A common misconception? Eating disorders are not glamorous or beautiful. For some reason, people seem to believe that anorexia has placed the vital chihuahua as the latest celebrity accessory. This thinspo shit pisses me off beyond belief, how somebody can promote a mental health illness as desirable is totally beyond me. Anybody who needs "thinspiration" or who relies on it for "motivation" does not have an eating disorder. They're following a fad, they're somebody with poor body image, but in my eyes that's not an eating disorder. Eating disorders are disgusting. Quite apart from the physical horrors your body goes through (google it, I won't go into detail), the light behind your eyes is dulled. You have no energy, no spark, no enthusiasm for anything but reducing the number on the scale.
So, treat yourself. Dye your hair, splash out on a new top, do your hair extra nice. Allow yourself to walk down the street with your shoulders back and your head held high with that eating-disorder-I'm-kickin'-some-serious-ass kinda attitude. Don't let that bullshit "once I'm thin I'll be beautiful and happy and successful and confident" fool ya. You'll feel sad and lost, look emaciated and unattractive, and life will all be in black and white.
The truth is, now I have my smile back, I feel almost happy. Something I haven't felt in a long time.
Smile chicas.
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
Wonderful in Wonderland
I have actually been meaning to dedicate a post to my fellow blogger Katie at http://katieinwonderlandx.wordpress.com/ since I started this, as she was actually the blogger who inspired me to start this in the first place. Katie's blog has been a source of inspiration in other areas too, as with powerful writing she communicates the struggles of her personal battle against her own issues and overcomes them with truly amazing strength and determination. I would really recommend reading her blog!!
Now last night, I was managing to work myself up into a state about having eaten a little too much dinner, hovering in that place between full blown breakdown or just sleeping it off. When I got into bed, I knew it would be an all night crying session, but just before I settled into the seemingly inevitable, I opened up Katie's blog. After just 6 or 7 days of this blog being up and running, Katie has nominated me as one of her "bloggers of 2011" awards! I feel so honoured, and happy, and excited about that! it cheered me right up! I put on some of my favourite music, wiped my eyes, turned off my phone and went to sleep. I am in a truly sensational mood today. Here is a HUGE thank you to Katie for making me feel worth something again, because it might seem small just writing me in a list of 15, but it's reinstilled the idea that I am headed somewhere and that this blog is worth continuing.
Thank you, so much.
Now last night, I was managing to work myself up into a state about having eaten a little too much dinner, hovering in that place between full blown breakdown or just sleeping it off. When I got into bed, I knew it would be an all night crying session, but just before I settled into the seemingly inevitable, I opened up Katie's blog. After just 6 or 7 days of this blog being up and running, Katie has nominated me as one of her "bloggers of 2011" awards! I feel so honoured, and happy, and excited about that! it cheered me right up! I put on some of my favourite music, wiped my eyes, turned off my phone and went to sleep. I am in a truly sensational mood today. Here is a HUGE thank you to Katie for making me feel worth something again, because it might seem small just writing me in a list of 15, but it's reinstilled the idea that I am headed somewhere and that this blog is worth continuing.
Thank you, so much.
Monday, 2 January 2012
Sex, Drugs and Rock 'N' Roll
While nursing a post-New Years hangover, the idea for this post occurred to me, but I lacked the willpower, and the stomach, to actually write it.
Now, around October last year, I was very 'innocent' you might say. Only been very mildly drunk on a few occasions, never smoked, never done weed, never had sex, you get the idea. I mean, at 14, this is understandable, not at all abnormal. However, after plunging into the depths of anorexia after years of bullemia, I believe it was the anorexic mindset that caused me to allow all that to change.
With anorexia even more so than bullemia, I felt worthless. Maybe this was because a lack of food will inevitably lead to a poor state of mind, a total exhaustion with life, a lack of incentive to continue at all. My parents were now alerted to my self harm tendencies, and regularly checked my wrists and legs for signs of this, but I needed SOMETHING to make me feel alive. I chose risks. These risks allowed me a temporary escape, and also gave me a flicker of excitement as I rebelled from my parents.
This is a pretty normal teenage thing to do, nothing at all out of the ordinary. However, the things with lots of meaningless sexual activity is apparently something generally connected to low self esteem, and this was definitely my mindset throughout. My thought process was "I'm worthless, let them use me". And that's what I did, and that's why now I have so many regrets it is unbelievable and I wish I could go back and change so much. Not to mention the fact that even if someone wants you purely for your body, or what you are willing to do with it, sex makes you feel like somebody wants you. That is a feeling I craved, whatever the cost. Now, if people are reading this, I would think that they too are suffering from some kind of eating disorder, or depression or self harm issue. Do not allow sex to be another way of expressing your hatred for yourself, because in all honesty, you'll get to the other side and feel even worse than you did beforehand.
I was surprised to read countless blogs and articles about low self esteem being connected to such disorders as my own, and comforted to know that I'm not just "a slag" or "easy". It was a coping mechanism, just like smoking and doing weed and getting pissed off my face every other weekend. Although common, don't let yourself become yet another example okay?
Now, around October last year, I was very 'innocent' you might say. Only been very mildly drunk on a few occasions, never smoked, never done weed, never had sex, you get the idea. I mean, at 14, this is understandable, not at all abnormal. However, after plunging into the depths of anorexia after years of bullemia, I believe it was the anorexic mindset that caused me to allow all that to change.
With anorexia even more so than bullemia, I felt worthless. Maybe this was because a lack of food will inevitably lead to a poor state of mind, a total exhaustion with life, a lack of incentive to continue at all. My parents were now alerted to my self harm tendencies, and regularly checked my wrists and legs for signs of this, but I needed SOMETHING to make me feel alive. I chose risks. These risks allowed me a temporary escape, and also gave me a flicker of excitement as I rebelled from my parents.
This is a pretty normal teenage thing to do, nothing at all out of the ordinary. However, the things with lots of meaningless sexual activity is apparently something generally connected to low self esteem, and this was definitely my mindset throughout. My thought process was "I'm worthless, let them use me". And that's what I did, and that's why now I have so many regrets it is unbelievable and I wish I could go back and change so much. Not to mention the fact that even if someone wants you purely for your body, or what you are willing to do with it, sex makes you feel like somebody wants you. That is a feeling I craved, whatever the cost. Now, if people are reading this, I would think that they too are suffering from some kind of eating disorder, or depression or self harm issue. Do not allow sex to be another way of expressing your hatred for yourself, because in all honesty, you'll get to the other side and feel even worse than you did beforehand.
I was surprised to read countless blogs and articles about low self esteem being connected to such disorders as my own, and comforted to know that I'm not just "a slag" or "easy". It was a coping mechanism, just like smoking and doing weed and getting pissed off my face every other weekend. Although common, don't let yourself become yet another example okay?
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