I’m the oldest and I’ve let you down. I should be sorted by now and successful and I’m not. I shouldn’t need looking after; I shouldn’t need this much attention when there are young members of family that do. I should know better.
Do you know what, I actually don’t want to die. I do want to live. But, I want to live “averagely.” I do want to feel but I want to feel some sort of normality- however wide the spectrum. I want to feel the variety of emotions, the peaks and the troughs of life, but not to an intensity that knocks me over.
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…”
I’ll just cut to the chase. I’m angry… I’m angry at that many things, its difficult to know which one to write first. Continue reading “What’s really baking my beans…”
Perhaps last week was quite a strange one to choose to be so quiet, especially in the initial stages of both my writing and recovery journey.
My (non)engagement in EDAW2016 was not so much a definitive stand, more a nervous bather tentatively dipping the tip of their toe in water to see if it is too cold to bear… Continue reading “Raising awareness carries too much weight”
I made a decision a few weeks ago…
I’d made similar decisions before but this felt different. I felt like I was doing it for ME. I finally had motivators and real reasons that were making me WANT to force Anorexia to eat its poisonous words. I could recite them better than the alphabet. And what’s different is, I believed them. It felt good, I felt excited.
Sounds positive doesn’t it…