Sunday, 22 December 2013

Nobody Said It Was Going To Be Easy

No, nobody said it was going to be easy. But nobody said it would be this god damn hard either.
The irony of it is, they were talking about recovery when they told me it wouldn’t be easy, and I’m not pretending anymore; I’m not recovering. I realised that recently, or rather admitted it to myself as reality. There’s no point lying to other people and absolutely no point in lying to myself.

Then I began to think, have I ever actually even been ‘in recovery’? I’ve got years of this illness behind me, god too many years, and they’ve been years of ‘cycles’ of what I have previously called relapses and recovery, but now I am starting to think about it differently. Perhaps, really it has just been a straight line with me at different weights quoting different lines, half believing some of them, appeasing different people, eating more and then less again.

It has been a depressingly long time since all this started. My status and condition has been scrutinised by many people, I’ve been in different hospitals, I’ve been tested and observed by many ‘professionals’, hopped obediently on and off many sets of scales, been suckered by numerous needles, popped an array of pretty pills, munched my way through many a meal plan. My arse has sat on so many different therapists’ chairs its gone numb.
Still, I am not fixed. I am not recovered.

I have realised one thing though....

Seeing other people smile, receiving praise for your struggles, eating more, gaining weight, becoming ‘safe’ or ‘stable’ in the eyes of the medics- this is not recovery.

You know why? Because that is all about other people. So, theoretically I was not entirely wrong when I assumed I was ‘recovering’ before; I was recovering- but only in the eyes and for the benefit of other people.

I have never really recovered for myself. I don’t think I have ever truly believed that to recover and leave anorexia behind would provide me with a better life. I have never believed I could ‘cope’ with life without it. That is what needs to happen before I can honestly begin recovery. Otherwise it will just be another fake veneer, another pretty picture for someone else. Another appeasement which won’t last, can’t last because it’s all just play acting, and the curtains always have to close and the actors will wipe of their makeup and go home at some point.

So here is the lesson I have finally learnt... 

Recovery is what is in your own head. It has NOTHING to do with other people. Recovery is selfish; and that is the way it should be. It should be all about you. Because at the end of the day it is only you who is going to live in the body you are in, in the mind you have for the rest of your life. Other people can help you on your journey, but you have to be so careful that the help, aid and support you accept from them is to further your quest; not theirs.

Recovery is not the time to indulge your inner people pleaser. 

Sunday, 8 December 2013

sunday evening again

So it's Sunday evening yet again...

I had a really good Saturday, I went to the Nottingham Vintage fair with my friend which was amazing as I knew it would be.

 I A-D-O-R-E vintage...adoration to the point where I am 99% sure my birth was the result of a malfunctioning time wormhole- I reckon I popped out a good 60 or so years too late. I am suited to Babydoll dresses and lace gloves and fur and corsets and generally all things old and beautiful!

The friend I went with is one of my favourite people too, and her mum ended up coming and she is also fabulous. I am completely chilled with them, I hide nothing and they accept everything. We popped to a cool little restaurant around the corner after we had finished at the fair and spent a good hour or so just chatting and debating and laughing. Just lovely.

I met another girl that evening who I suspect isn't maybe in the best of places at the moment....I say that because she was being pretty...hmm, not particularly nice... I don't know if you have encountered that sort of person before- when they are in a bad place themselves, they turn quite nasty. Most people when feeling low become sad, quieter, more introvert. Then some people go the opposite way. This girl is one prime example of the latter. Snappy, cold, snide and generally not a great presence. Pisses me off. We all go through shit- so I think it's not unreasonable to expect adults to keep their private evils in cheque and not become so overtly .....mean. It's just like the good old saying; 'If you haven't got anything nice to say then don't say anything at all'.

Hey Ho. Hope she feels better for being a sourpuss.             I'm not the most sympathetic creature as you can see.

Today I took my eldest niece out to town and the cinema. It was her birthday recently and instead of buying her yet more silly meaningless toys or games or generally materialistic shite I had promised her a day out. I took her into town (which was seasonably rammed). A new food place has opened in Westfield- a place called Ed's easy diner. It's a chain I think. I've been wanting an excuse to go in as the menu isn't exactly anorexic friendly....hotdogs, sliders, fried everything and cheese- all things amazing in other words but not exactly feasible for me right now. So I took Emily in for a massive oreo milkshake. When I say massive ....well it came in a small bucket with a glass .....hats off to her she finished it O_o

After that we went shopping, saw the new disney film; Frozen and then I took her to Nandos for tea.

Unfortunately today was a BAD body day. I felt so bad- it was meant to be a day all about Emily and yet I was desperately preoccupied with my thighs. Every mirror they seemed to be even larger. I kept zoning out because I was trying to remember all of this weeks intake and analysing it for why I have quite obviously got bigger. I spent most of the film on my phone tracking calories and other stupid, futile, unreassuring.... but infinitely necessary things.

It's probably pretty unsurprising then that I popped some lax pills during the film, had an evening of cramps and shit (no-literally-I mean shit) and that I will be setting of for college early so I can go weigh myself at the Pharmacy before class.

They better have fucking fixed the scales. Last week I was all psyched up..prepared..empty...and the motherfuckers were out of order.

Because of course- it is entirely normal to nearly have a break down at 8 30 am in public in the middle of a Boots store because the scales are out of order....

Oh yeah and I get two history assignments back tomorrow which I am dreading. They will both have been referred as they is not a chance in hell they've passed first time. My tutor is so fucking inefficient- we should NEVER get two assignments back at once- she gives us no constructive feedback. And oh yeah...she's generally a's late- constructive criticisms have deserted me- so yes- I'll make so with the statement that she is a bitch