I keep hearing how empowering it is to admit you have a mental illness. Supposedly, it is brave. Supposedly, it is the first step you take to “getting better”- whatever that may look like.
So why don’t I feel empowered? Continue reading “Cowardy custard”
This originally started as an “anorexia recovery” blog but I’m coming to the realisation that it’s not as simple as that (as if anorexia on its own is ever “simple”).
No, if you were going to fuse together the “issues” in my head at the moment- what, with my relentless joy and zest for life (not), my desire to restrict, binge, purge, cry (rave) repeat- it would probably sound more like depres-orexi-mi-nge. Depresoreximinge. Depression, anorexia, bulimia, bingeing. Nice. Barrel of laughs, me.
But what came first..? Continue reading “The chicken or the egg?”
My mind resembles something similar to mash potatoes at the minute so I can’t imagine this will be anything other than a good, old fashioned whinge… Continue reading “How the cookie *doesn’t* crumble…”