It Was A Happy Christmas

Anyone who has been reading my blog long enough might remember my post from last december "Christmas with an Eating Disorder"  or my Early christmas morning ' I hate christmas' post. Last year Christmas was a struggle. My weight was a pathetic 6Stone13 and lunch was just enough vegetables on my plate to spell out 'LYDIA' using them.

This year was slightly different. I didn't weigh myself Christmas morning, that was my present to myself. A whole day not being controlled by the number on the scale. (And believe me, the number would of been a lot more than it was last Christmas).

This Christmas was different. Yes, I was worried about how much I was eating but the difference is I coped with it better. (Okay not quite, i drank too much wine and therefor didn't care). I didn't let the voices in my head take over, I ate. A lot.

Wine + chocolate for breakfast, I fell asleep during lunch, which would of been the perfect opportunity for me (or my anorexia) to be like "Well everyone has already eaten now, I don't have to!" But I ate anyway, Roast potatos, veg and a few Yorkshire puds, I even had pudding. And a bit more wine... the rest of the day consisted of a few smalls bits of chocolate, pasta, and crisps ( + more wine...) #fatty.

But I didn't engage in any disordered behaviors. I didn't purge or binge or restrict or exercise until it hurt to move. I ate, like a normal person. Todays number on the scale freaked me out a little bit, but t doesn't change the fact that I actually had one of the happiest Christmas' I've had since my eating disorder took over my life.

The great company and wine obviously played a huge factor in it being great but yesterday was a great big fat 'fuck you' to anorexia.

Anorexia 0, Lydia 1.

Fuck winter.

It's that time of year. I wake up and it's dark and miserable and still is hen I get to work (Oh and it's freezing) and then by the time I finish work it's freezing, miserable and dark. When I do go out in the day it's rare that it's sunny and even if it is it's still freezing. I spend the whole of winter wanting to be back in bed and get tempted to wrap myself in my duvet before standing in the garden to smoke.

But that's not the worst part about winter. Everything in the festive season revolves around food and don't get me started on christmas parties. I have gained so much weight that I resemble some sort of breached whale. I bought a dress for a party, it's baggy and it's black. I look like a binbag. I need a new dress. I've looked for hours and hours and can I find a new dress? Nope. It would be easier to find a dress if I could get one without sleeves, they look so much nicer - but not when it'd be revealing years worth of self-injury scars. I've found a long sleeved dress but it's bodycon. And with A body like mine the last thing I need is something to highlight how fat I am.

Everyday is a struggle and even now I'm worried about what I'll eat on christmas day and keep thinking back to how my weight then was a lot less than it is now and everyone who only visits around christmas time will laugh about how I've let myself go and gained so much weight and the anxiety is already taken it's toll. and I. Hate. Winter.

Happy Ending

I am a christian and sometimes I like to call myself a princess because my dad (God) is the King. But contrary to popular belief life isn't a fairy tale.

Somebody said to me how they don't get how people can be dumb enough to believe in God and the bible, it's just another fairy tale storybook. So, here I am thinking of ways anybody could compare the two... Jesus had 12 disciples, 3 of which are named John, Andrew and James. They weren't quite the same as the 7 dwarfs, 3 of which are names Happy, Grumpy and Sleepy. Jesus washed the Disciples feet, Cinderella washed the floor. The beast in beauty and the beast was cursed for selfishness, Jesus was on the other-hand selfless, a sinless man who died to save others.

The Bible isn't an airy-fairy happy-clappy book about princesses and castles and happy endings. It involves Jesus being tortured and nailed to a cross. A flood that covered the earth. A Man who's brothers sold him into slavery because they were jealous of his coat. First born son's being killed. And I can't think of anything worse than travelling on a donkey. Jesus was born in a stable and not bought up in a castle. The bible isn't full of glittery pictures and fairy-god mothers.

It's hard to explain to someone exactly why I don't just believe in God as if I'm six and believing in the tooth-fairy. I believe he exists, I know he exists. No, I don't have proof and maybe things that happen are coincidence but without him I am nothing. God has done amazing things in the lives of my loved ones and there's no other explanation.  Knowing God is what keeps me sane, knowing God is knowing that I am loves and that my life has a purpose.  A belief in God isn't like a childs belief in the easter bunny, the bible isn't simply a storybook like Cinderella.

The only way you can compare the two are the happy endings.
For God so loved the world that  he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

Take me back to Africa

I spend a good 99% of my timing wanting to be back in South Africa. It's all I talk about and the only place I want to be. Things were better there, it's hard to explain why but i'm going to give it ago anyway.

I was me, Nobody who met me knew anything about me, my past or my mental health. The one's who did find out how weird I am weren't scared by it, they accepted me. I walked around in short sleeves nobody commented on my scars there was no 'Whatthefuckdidyoudo? Thatsdisgusting' They were just part of me. Nobody drew attention to them, nobody questioned, nobody stared. It was nice to be me.

The sun was shining pretty much all the time, it was beautiful. Not like England where it's dark and miserable and raining all the time, the sun makes everything better.

People are kinder. Nobody ever pointed out somebody elses oddly-shaped nose or the fact someone was bigger than a size 6. People walked around with bin-bags on their head and clothes that clashed but that's okay. People actually talk to one another, not like here where even if you see someone you know you put your head down, walk faster and pretend you didn't see them and pray that they didn't see you!

Everyone I met had a story and they weren't ashamed to share it. Everyone who I met had such an obvious faith in and love for God. If I was having a bad day people weren't like 'Lets go for a fag and drink some vodka' (typical English solution to everything) instead they prayed. (The best solution to everything).

Then don't even get me started on the little things like Vogue fags, Dis-chem, Mr Price, and Topdeck! Or the fact that their woolworths (good ol' woolies) is the equivalent to our Marks and Spencers. Romans Pizza, Pap and vetkoek.

I didn't have scales to stand on and being skinny wasn't a priority. If I was having a bad day I was never left to just struggle, nearly every day was a good day and thats never happened before.

I miss South Africa, the amazing people and the sunshine. I miss the church and the chocolate. I miss being myself. Oh take me back...

Too fat

This week I received a letter from my Doctor. This Doctor told me my referral to the aspen center was rejected because I need to lose a significant amount of weight. This letter told me the aspen center suggested my help should continue to come from the psychiatrists that work for the adult mental health services. This letter then went on to tell me that I no longer ill be having appointments with the psychiatrists.

This letter made my heart sink and tears dribble down my face. I don't know what to do, where do I even go from here?

My life and thoughts are constantly consumed by the thought of what I have or what I'm going to consume. I don't eat food, I eat numbers. The 89kcal banana for breakfast was okay. The 98Kcal crumpet I had wasn't. I felt guilty for eating it, I still do now. I'm not skinny, no where near. But I'm sick. And shouldn't that be enough for me to get help. My weight fluctuates on a daily basis and if it goes above a certain number I have a complete meltdown.

It fluctuates to the point of my jeans being too big to suddenly being too small. Some days I don't eat. Some days I eat everything I can. Everyday is a battle one that I can not win on my own. One that I need help to win but nobody is on my team.

I'm not as skinny as I was a few years ago when they told me I'd end up in hospital or worse - dead. But mentally I am worse a lot worse, so why won't they help me when I need it most? Why should I have to make my physical health as damaged as my mental health?

I'm so upset and confused and I don't even know anymore.

Learn how to swim

Looking through old Camhs letters is both the funniest and the saddest thing I have done. I was first seen by Camhs in september 2010. I was 14. I don't remember the initial assessment, I remember not wanting to be there and being adamant that I wasn't going to let them in.
 On this date I weighed 49.7kilos and had been suffering with disordered eating for 2-3 years already. I showed no signs of an eating disorder and convinced them all I did not have one. I did however have low self-esteem and they knew I had been self-harming. I was offered another appointment.

 I remember this appointment well, I sat in the room with the woman and did not make eye contact. I looked down, I looked at the clock and for the most part I was silent. I was told "Even if you don't talk I still get paid for the hour." (Unhelpful. Everything inside me screamed she doesn't even care as long as she still gets the money, don't bother talking).

We saw a family therapist after this woman. I never called her by name, if I was talking about her to someone she was 'The fat greasy lesbian woman'. I hated her and her crowd of followers that hid behind the one-way mirror. If I wasn't going to talk to one person I certainly wasn't going to talk to her and the 2 others hiding behind the screen. I remember screaming and shouting and being flat out rude to this woman. I didn't want her to help me. I didn't need it.

I was passed onto the Doctor there. Put on anti-depressants, taken off them and discharged. My discharged letter mentioned her seeing some 'old scars'. Which made me chuckle because I was wearing my pink jumper, sleeves pulled down. I convinced them I was fine and didn't need their help. When I did talk to them, I lied.

Here I am now, 4 years on having spent almost a year trying to get help just to be told time and time again they can't help me or that I don't meet certain criteria. I've been referred from place to place and been rejected. My anti-depressants aren't being changed, stopped or upped despite them not working.

4 years ago I didn't want help, I was in a river and convinced I was a strong swimmer screaming at them that I didn't need them yet they jumped into the river and invaded my space. Now I'm in the river drowning, they are stood on the bank with life buoy in hand and instead of throwing it screaming 'learn how to swim'.

I wish I had accepted the help all those years ago. I wish I could swim.

Slave to skinny

The Slavery Abolition Act 1833 was put in place by parliament to abolish slavery throughout the british empire. I don't know much about slavery in this way, but I know that slavery itself still exists.

slave

sleɪv/

noun

1. 1.

   (especially in the past) a person who is the legal property of another and is forced to obey them.

   "he killed the natives or turned them into slaves"

   
   

verb

1. 1.

   work excessively hard.

   "after slaving away for fourteen years all he gets is two thousand"

I was a slave to anorexia. You could argue that doesn't count because Anorexia is not a person and I was not forced to obey it, you could argue that you don't have to work excessively hard to be anorexic, all you do is not eat.. right?

Yes, anorexia isnt a person but it's a voice. At least for me it was, it was like a voice that wasn't my own. It controlled my every move my every thought I had no choice but to obey it or it would make things worse. It would force me to stand up while watching tv because it burns more calories than sitting. It would force me to open my windows on cold winter nights because 'being cold burns calories'. It wouldn't let me have friends "They'll make you eat, they want you to get fat to make them look skinnier" it would whisper.

And as for not having to work hard... I'd spend hours a day thinking about food and would have to spend hours distracting myself, putting myself off. I'd work hard at pretending i'm okay, hiding the weightloss, making it look like I ate. Hiding food was a challenge and I'd work hard at making sure that I wasn't going to pass out despite not having eaten for days. It was physically and mentally draining. It wasn't a case of just not eating.

I was a Slave. I am a slave. We are a slave to society. A slave to skinny. A slave to the scales.

We want to be skinny because it's more socially acceptable than being 'Fat'. We want to be skinny because we're told 'nothing tastes as good as skinny feels' we want to be skinny because it's portrayed to be the best thing we can be and fat is the worst.

In an american survey 80% of ten year olds had been on a diet. (10. Year. Olds. Think about a ten year old you know, if you knew they were dieting you'd be shocked they are just children!). And the most wished for thing among 11-17 year olds was to be thinner. 53% of 13 year olds are unhappy with their body. Only 22% of 17 year olds are happy with theirs. There is over 1.2million members at slimming world and 1 million at weight watchers.  Those 2.2million people step on and off a scale every single week and are either happy because the scale show's a smaller number than last week or disappointed because it's bigger, they are slaves to the scale.

While I was in Africa my access to a scale was limited. I was so much happier not having to worry about what the number would show. I didn't care. Yes I gained weight, yes some of my clothes didn't fit but it didn't matter. It shouldn't matter now either. It shouldn't matter to you. Your worth is not determined by the number on the scale or the size of your jeans.

Words fail me

Contrary to popular belief, words aren't my thing. I guess I understand why people think they are, I write a blog and my head can usually be found in a book. But i'm terrible with words.

I can never find the right ones and when I do know what I want to say it's usually sarcastic or rude ('Fuck' springs to mind...). If someone asks me how I am I could be absolutely fantastic or I could be have some sort of internal breakdown but 'fine' will be my word of choice. If someone tells me something bad 'Oh shit' or 'I'm so sorry to hear that' are usually the words that spill out my mouth. I never know what to say when I'm supposed to say it.

I am rubbish at conversation and being silent in a room full of people is probably my only talent. I get scared of saying the wrong words, sounding stupid. My heart might have the words but when it comes to speaking them sometimes I physically can not. There's been times when I have opened my mouth and no sound has come out, I get asked if I was about to say something and while I might want to say 'Yes, urm......' I usually shake my head.

Words fail me. But I have Gods word and actually that's the only word I need. I don't need to give answers it does that for me, I don't need to speak I just need to listen. Gods word is powerful while I am weak.

bad day

Some days (weeks... maybe months) are hard and sometimes it seems like things will never change. Today has been one of those hard days.  Days like this for me seem unbearable and it seems like everything goes wrong.

I woke up at 7am, and didn't get up until 1.30, moving wasn't something I wanted to do. I managed to get up in fear that my bladder might pop. I looked in the mirror and instantly burst into tears. I hate my body, I hate my face and my scars although they dont usually bother me made me feel sick. The scale said a smaller number than yesterday but I feel 3 times bigger. I eventually managed to go and have 'Breakfast'. Half of a small banana, less calories than my usual bowl of porridge but today it seemed too much. I sat on the floor in the corner for what seemed like an eternity before finally finding the motivation to go upstairs and shower.

I stood in the shower and stared blankly at the wall, I think I washed my hair 3 times but I just kept forgetting whether I had or hadn't already washed it. The shampoo went in my eye and the sting didn't bother me like normal, I was grateful that I was actually feeling something other than emptiness. Pain isn't a brilliant feeling but its certainly better than numbness.  I dryed my hair and returned to the scale. Weighing myself more than once a day is never a good thing and today i've got on and off the scale a whopping 10 times. Then I returned to bed.

A had a few hours in which I was occupied, so things didn't seem too bad. But now I'm home alone and I'm anxious. It's been a while since my anxiety has been this overwhelming, I've convinced myself 6 times that I've left the oven on and the house will surely set on fire (I haven't turned the oven at all today) I'm worrying about everything.

Today I havent done anything productive all I've done is breathe. Some days (weeks, or maybe even months) it is okay if breathing is all you can bring yourself to do.

I just pray that tomorrow will be better.

Rubbish Christian

Sometimes when I sit in the congregation at church or even on the odd occasions when i'm stood at the front of church singing or perhaps it's when i'm at the alpha course it feels like I am different, like I don't belong (okay, I am different). It feels like I am less important, less of a christian.

Everyone else know's what to pray and talks about how they've read the whole bible from cover to cover not once, not twice but more times than they can count. The talk about how God has healed them and portray this image that their life is perfect and that, well, their some sort of business class christian while I'm more economy class.

Sometime's it feels like I am in the wrong place, i'm supposed to be in a hospital for the broken and it seem's like i'm in a museum for the good. The sin-free the Icanmakeperfectcakesandquotethebiblewordforwordandicanprayfor10minutesstraightwithouttakingasinglebreath. Sometimes it feels like I don't belong.

I am different. Everyone else sticks to 1 corinthians 6:19-20 and treats their body as a temple, while my temple has both exterior and interior damage, it has been treated more like a Mcdonalds than a temple.  Everyone else sticks to 1 Peter 5:7 while I have anxiety attacks. Everyone else calls God their Father and seems to have some amazing bond with him( 2 corinthians 6:18) while I struggle to imagine God as this father figure, I love him but I'm not ready to call him Father, I know he made me but all I can think about is my earthly father, Can't I call him God the Granddad instead? (I have no link to word granddad so that'd be so much easier!). And don't even get me started on Exodus 20:13 that one I just can't seem to get the hang of (That was a joke...)

I am a sinner. I fight daily battles with Satan. I get tempted and 90% of the time I do or say something that other christians find shocking, even when I'm just being honest about how I find it hard to concentrate when I pray, I get looks of disgust as if to say "Well aren't you just a terrible christian then" (I understand them doing this when I'm swearing or rolling a cigarette mid-hymn but whatever). I am not perfect, neither are they.

Romans 3:23 says "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" and I can't and nor should anybody else judge somebody just because they sin differently to me (or you)

and Romans 5:8 reminds us that "God show's his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us."

So despite the fact I don't know the bible inside out and despite the fact I sin God still loves me and even if I were the only person to ever walk the earth Christ would have died for me, and he'd of done the same for you.

Winter Blues

There's so many reasons to like the winter months (In England we get like 6 months of winter, we should of learned to love them by now...) Stepping on crunchy leaves and the colours of the trees, hot chocolate and bonfires, snowmen and pretty scarves, christmas carols and christingles, presents and parties, sweater weather is better weather and let's be honest girls shaving our legs doesn't need to happen as often but for some winter can be hard.

I don't mean because they're full of flu, they have expensive heating bills or because they struggle to keep warm. I mean it's mentally hard for the 2 million people in the UK who suffer with 'Seasonal Affective Disorder' (SAD) commonly known as 'Winter depression'.

SAD shares the same symptoms as normal depression but usually only occurs at a particular time of year and for most this is winter. (it's no surprise really, it's dark all the time which effects hormone production). Symptoms usually begin in autumn and get progressively worse throughout the winter before improving again in spring and summer.

So what are the signs?

• Low mood
• Low self esteem
• Either an increase or decrease in weight
• Wanting to sleep more than usual / feeling lethargic
• Feelings of despair/ guilt/ worthlessness/ anxiety/ stress. 
• Tearfulness
• Reduced Libido 
• Indecisiveness
• Lack of concentration
• Showing little interest in activities

And while it may seem that the winter is just impossible to get through with the right treatment symptoms can be managed and you can read more about SAD and possible treatment here 

So to anybody who feels like they want to hibernate this winter and doesn't usually feel this depressed for the rest of the year perhaps pay a visit to your GP and know that it's okay to have a mental illness and that summer will soon be here!

If depression is causing you to have disturbing thoughts or you just need somebody to talk to please call any of these numbers or speak to a trusted friend

Samaritans: 08457 909090
Child line: 0800 1111
NHS Direct:  0845 4647

God is good.

God is good, really good and I've watched him transform peoples lives, heard of the things he's done for others and even known him to heal people, it amazes me every time.

I know people who God has healed, or performed miracles on. For example a friend a couple of weeks ago was pretty much in a life or death situation when a brain op didn't go according to plan, days were spent in intensive care with little signs of improvement. We got so many people to pray, from different churches and even from different parts of the world. Now, she's not in intensive care and has taken a real turn and is apparently sending snapchats...

My dad had quite a serious 'suspected stroke' when I was six, Mum and the boys went to visit him after he'd been in for a few days, apparently he looked like he was going to die. Mum took the boys into the chapel in the hospital and they prayed. That night there was a knock on our front door, it was dad. A doctor had told him he wasn't breathing properly and told him what to do after doing it for a but he was back to normal. The other doctors didn't see this 'doctor' that spoke to dad and there was no record that this 'doctor' even existed.

But God doesn't just heal people, he answers prayers too.. A couple examples my parents have told me are:

When mum was pregnant with Anna they lived on a top floor flat, they'd put the flat up for sale because carrying a pushchair up flights of stairs wasn't going to be much fun for mum. It'd been on the market for a while and nobody had even showed an interest. After a while mum and dad prayed about it and heard God say 'trust Me' - The next day they had a phonecall and the flat got sold.

Then there was the time when mum and dad couldn't afford our school uniforms, 4 of us in 4 different sizes was going to cost a lot. They prayed about it and the following morning received a cheque in the post for £200 which paid for the uniforms.

(ive done it again, ive forgotten where I was going with this...) But these things are not a coincidence, God is good.

For the LORD is good. His unfailing love continues forever, and his faithfulness continues to each generation. - Psalm 100:5

Wish List

There are a lot of things that I can think of that would make my life better if I had it... And if I got everything on that list I would be happy and my life would be perfect.  It may seem selfish, materialistic, vain but I NEED them to make my life better... And here is to name just a few.

I need:

• Liposuction
• A nicer smile
• New anti-depressants
• A new job 
• More money (I'm talking millions...)
• Higher self-esteem
• A boyfriend
• A driving license 
• An iPhone
• Thinner thighs
• To be happier
• A talent
• My own house
• To be happier
• To be healthier
• Cigarettes to cost less
• Alcohol to come out the tap
• To be perfect
• To be accepted
• Longer hair
• More people to love me
• To feel appreciated
• A double bed
• JESUS.

"And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus" Phillipians 4:19

Don't believe in doctors.

Some people go to the doctor all the time for things that seem small to others (seriously - take a paracetamol, it's only a slight headache!) and occasionally they go for something big, serious. I'd rather suffer. Doctors and medical professionals have done nothing but let me down when it comes to my mental health and after more than a year of seeking treatment - nothing. I was referred to a specialist center over 6 months ago - nothing. Antidepressants aren't working? Try some new ones, up your dose, just keep taking them. Some people put more faith in doctors than anything else.
 But a Doctor has never healed me and they've run out of options, they can not fix me and now it seems they wont even try. It's impossible to get an appointment and even then 5 minutes is not enough to explain every thing that is going wrong inside my mind and inside my body. I don't understand how people can believe in doctors.

I am lucky though because I do not need a doctor to heal me (Okay, treatment would be nice but i've given up on that and they've given up on me). I have God, I go to him for the small stuff and  big, serious stuff. Because of him I do not have to suffer. God has done everything for me. I don't need to make an appointment because my God is here, all the time, always listening. I don't need to book in advance and talk to him as quick as I possibly can so he can talk to someone else sicker than I am.
God doesn't need to refer me to somebody else because he's stuck, he is all knowing, God isn't going to stop trying he is not going to give up on me, or you, or anyone. He know's our sicknesses and sufferings and he will heal us.

I've heard wonderful testimonies of people being healed from various mental and physical illnesses, healed from addiction,  It says in Matthew 7:7 Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened. God isn't like a doctor he doesn't need to prescribe you drugs he doesn't need to be told your symptoms he doesn't need you to have various tests done. He just needs you to ask to be healed and he will give you healing.

I have prayed time and time again, i've been prayed for lots I am not healed and I am okay with that because I have faith that God will heal me, he will heal you. Just because I haven't been healed instantly does not mean I will not be healed, I just need to keep praying and keep being prayed for. I'm putting my faith in God and not in doctors.

"Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering."

Private life.

"Who you are in private is more important than who you are when people see"
(The exact opposite to my bingeing habit, what i eat in private I wear in public).

Anyway, I like the idea of who you are in private being more important...

Some people have an untidy house until they're expecting guests but it's okay to have an untidy house because the people are their to see you and not your house. If you're house is a mess and your life is a mess that is fine just don't pretend it's not.

In public I try to appear confident, innocent, full of the word of God, happier, healthier, okay.

In private it takes me ten minutes to build up the courage to leave the house, "fuck" is my most used word, I struggle to read the bible, depression takes it's toll, have unhealthy thoughts and sometimes in private I am not okay. (but as soon as we have visitors or I need to go out I can quickly pretend I am).

I have scars and secrets that will never be made public, we all do. Sometimes those scars are physical and other times emotional but why would we publicize that? We wouldn't because we're too scared of being judged or put down.

Who we are in private should be who we are all the time, we shouldn't have to put on a show for an audience full of people that are also just keeping up appearances.

Can you hear me?

I am rubbish at talking, remembering and listening. When it comes to talking to other people I freeze, occasionally I stutter and yes or no answers are about as much as I can give. I forget important things but remember lyrics from song's I heard once 10 years ago, it's not that I don't follow instructions I simply just forget I was given them. I'm not bad at listening, I'm bad at taking it in, in one ear out the other, shrugging off things I don't want to hear.

When It come's to God I am just as bad. I physically can't talk to God out loud, I can in my head but that's a mess and I get distracted mid-prayer. Sometimes I simply forgot to pray when the hustle and bustle of life is too much. It's not that I don't listen to God though, I just do not hear him and even if I were to I'm not sure what he sounds like. Sometimes it feels like God isn't listening to me though, when you pray and pray and pray and nothing happens it can be hard.

I was told by an RE teacher once that because I was made by science and not God that I do not have a soul and can not connect with God. IVF babies weren't how God intended for children to made and if God didn't just give them a baby like he gave Sarah in the bible then maybe the parents weren't supposed to have one. I also used to get called "Devil child" at school by some of my sisters friends... So It would make sense if God wasn't listening, I wasn't part of a plan and I apparently remind people of satan so why would he even want to hear my cries for help.

But that's not the case and It's only the past few weeks I've realized that. If I wasn't part of Gods plan then even with the help of doctors the sperm wouldn't have fertilized the egg, I wouldn't be here. God knew even before IVF was a thing, even before my parents met, that Lydia Brown would walk the earth and Sandra and Tony would have triplets with the help of science. I am part of Gods plan and he still has a plan for my life. 'For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord Plans to prosper you and not to harm you plans to give you hope and a future' Jeremiah 29:11
It isn't that God isn't listening to me, it's that God's plan for me is just different to that of what I am asking, the nights I used to cry and pray that God would please just let me be with him now, that I wouldn't wake up the morning. It's not that I was being ignored it's that God has a better plan for my life than I do.

The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.  The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.  A righteous man may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all Psalm 34:17-19 (sorry if this makes no sense it's 1am, I'm tired and couldnt find the words I was looking for)

inside out

While I was in Africa people kept telling me I'm beautiful, which I found really weird. All my life people have pointed out flaws in my appearance, called me ugly and even been given 2/10 for my looks. I find it difficult to accept compliments because it feels like i'm being lied to, so I kind of just awkwardly laugh or ignore the compliment all together.

I've had all sorts of comments made about my appearance:
Too fat
Too Thin
Massive forehead
Short
Weird figure
Boat feet
Chubby cheeks
Ugly
Out of proportion

And then I have my own view of myself:
Strange hair, big forehead, bushy eyebrows, strange eyelids, small eyes, big/wide/pointy nose, odd shaped lips that somedays are too fat and other days too thin, unsymmetrical ears, fat face fat cheeks, double chin, non existent neck, broad shoulders, wide torso, muffin top, strange hips, violin deformity, bulging thighs,  muscly calves, huge feet, terrible skin, man hands, freaky knees, scars.
There isn't a single squared cm of myself that I think I actually like And while that makes life a bit difficult and my confidence a bit low it doesn't matter.

I was made in God's image and he loves me. And doesn't matter what other people think about my external.
"The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

I dont fit into my clothes.

When I was in Africa I had a love hate relationship with food. The first 10 days I was there I just couldn't bring myself to eat anything, as a result I fainted, I lost weight and my size 4 shorts wouldn't stay up.

After that I began eating not really by choice but to make everyone else happy. Which in turn led to me bingeing most days, my weight crept up, my size 4 shorts now don't do up.

I gained 9kgs. My jeans don't fit and my stomach bulges out more than it ever has. My thighs touch and my face is just a ball of fat with a new chin added on... sexy.  I hate myself for it.

Yet while I see a new thick layer of blubber suffocating my body everyone else doesn't seem to see the same. I see a morbid obese person looking unhealthily fat. Everyone else just see's, me?

Everyones been telling me theyve never seen me look this "good", i've looked so "alive", I look "healthy, beautiful, glowing" and someone even said "I can look at you now, before I couldn't you just looked sick" and everytime someone compliments me on my weight gain I feel another piece of my heart break off, it feel's like everyone is stabbing me.

It feels like everyone Is lying about what they say, I look fat and that is all there is too it.

I know everyone means well but if everybody could stop commenting on my physical appearance I would appreciate that, until I've either lost some of this excess weight or come to terms with the fact that this is my body.

anxious adulthood.

It only dawned on me last night when I got ID'd for buying alcohol that I am actually an adult. When I was younger all I wanted to do was grow up as quickly as possible thinking I was a "Big girl" at 4 years old and not letting anybody treat me as child from the age of about ten.

But I don't want to be an adult, I still feel like the fragile-heartsore-scaredofeverybody nine year old that I was, but I just look different now. I'm okay with some aspects of being an adult, you know like alcohol.. and going to work everyday.. but the rest of me wants to still be a child, because I'm scared of the most pathetic things.

Going into shops makes me nervous and if a member of staff asks if they can help me I panic and leave (even if i found exactly what i was looking for). People on tills make me nervous and i'm thankful when a shop has self checkouts. I'm for the most part scared of anybody over 35. I've received so many inappropriate texts from old men who won't leave me alone that sometimes I even panic when I see i've got a message and talking on the phone makes me feel sick, if my phone rings and someone else is close by I get them to answer it and I'd never phone to make an appointment.

Paying rent just seems like a waste of money when I'm never at home because I'm working all day for practically nothing an hour. I threw my letter about voting in the bin because I've not got a clue about politics and my vote wouldn't matter anyway. I get far too panicky in cars so I probably won't learn to drive. I make people talk on my behalf and decisions are never my own, and I'm sure i'm doing this adult-thing wrong.

If you asked 10 year old me what my life would be like when I was finally an adult i'd of said something like "I'd be confident and not living with mummy and daddy i'd have lots of money a good job and a nice car and maybe i'll get married" and 10 year old me couldn't have got it more wrong.

1 Peter 5:7 Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 

South Africa + God.

I attempted to write a blogpost from my mobile, it did't work...

"It's Friday 15th August, 11pm. In two weeks time I'll be back in England and I don't want that. I want to stay here and my main reason for that is God.

 Every person i've had the pleasure of meeting has such a strong faith in God it's awesome, it seems like the most important things to people are Jesus, prayer and family. I unfortunate can't say the same about us English folk.

Everyone of these people has a story and a struggle, yet they all talk about how blessed they are"

An elderly woman who's lost all her family told me she's blessed because her purse is never empty so she's always able to help people who need it most. I had the pleasure of meeting a mother and daughter who just a couple of weeks before hand lost a family member and I think anyone would of understood if they were to just lose faith in God, not trust him, be angry... But their love for and trust in him is as clear as day.
I met people who are in debt up to their eyeballs but instead of questioning why the Lord wasn't helping them financially they thanked him every day for the food they had in front of them. I even heard people in the street talking about how good God is, despite people having so little their love for God is so big.

Peoples love for others was also evident, I was made welcome by practically everybody I met while I was there and I fell in love with the church. I even got prayed for, the only time someone else has ever offered to pray for me was a pastor telling me I am 'possessed'. I was prayed for by the mother and daughter I spoke about previously and their acceptance and patience with me is something i've never had and something I can not thank them enough for. In England people seem to barely make time for the members of their own church, but for these two people to pray for some weird foreign girl despite going through a tough time is what makes these women two of the most wonderful people I met.

If the churches here were like the ones in South Africa maybe the church wouldn't get such a bad name and it certainly wouldn't be labeled as 'boring'.  And who knows, maybe if we actually prayed for one another miracles might happen.

(im sorry if this post makes no sense whatsoever... it's bedtime)

Today's the day

I've just had my last travel jab, and soon i'll be on my way to... the dentist. Eventually i'll be on my way to the airport, then germany then south africa. I feel sick.

BUT ANYWAY, I'M GOING TO BE THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY FOR THE NEXT 6 WEEKS.
SO THIS IS GOODBYE, FOR NOW.

I hope all of you, whatever it is that you've got planned over the summer, have a fantastic time.

( I was going to write a long post but my head is spinning at 1000miles an hour so byeeeeeeeeeeee)

anxious.

I have packed for Africa, it was harder than I expected. I am anxious about everything. "How many pairs of pants will I need for 6 weeks?" must of come across as my biggest worry as I asked it about 50 times over the past two days. (12, I've packed 12 and im still not sure that's enough).

I am so anxious it hurts. My tummy is an a huge (very huge because my tummy is massive) knot. I've packed, unpacked and repacked my suitcase more times than I can count. Checked, double checked and triple checked that my passport is in my case. I wish thats where the anxiety ended but unfortunately it's not.

I'm scared to leave my family behind and I'm scared of how much will have changed by the time I get back. I'm scared to leave those of my friends that suffer with mental-illness and often come to me just to chat. I'm worried that something bad might happen while I'm there.

I am anxious about meeting new people, I hate people.  I hate using other people's toilets/showers/baths let alone sleeping in a bed somebody else has slept in. I'm anxious about eating in front of strangers because they'll sit there and laugh at how the fat girl is stuffing her face. And don't even get me started on being seen in a swimming-costume, I look like a whale and everyone will judge me. How can I lose a stone in 3 days?

I'm petrified that my mental health will get worse and I won't be able to cope and become needy/emotional/withdrawn and ruin things for everyone. I'm terrified that I will do what I do best and just get in the way.  And what if nobody likes me?!

On the bright side I will not be able to binge for 6 weeks so maybe I will find some normality. I'm going to see a part of the world that not many people my age have seen and have loads of new experiences. I get 6 weeks off of work and it'll be my birthday. I'll be with my best-friend and who know's I might even get a tan. But none of that changes the fact that it feels like i'm either about to explode or puke.

I am terrified and excited at the same time and this is an odd feeling.

Deja Vu

I apologize for the fact i'm going to mention africa and weight again.

I GO TO AFRICA IN TWO WEEKS! I've gained back all the weight I lost. I am fatter than I have ever been and I know why. I have lost control. I've been very, very, very emotional recently, my mental health is quickly declining, I have lost control of everything. Food is included in that. In fact food was the only thing I've ever been able to control.

I wake up every day, weigh myself and have breakfast. Usually a banana, I then tell myself i'm not going to eat for the rest of the day. By the end of my work day I'm tired, emotional and very hungry. I get home, I binge. I hate myself. I punish myself. I go to bed. I repeat this day in and day out and I'm always telling myself that tomorrow will be different.

Tomorrow is always the same, just a different number on the scale, a bigger number, a scarier number. The higher the number gets the more I hate myself.

I have two weeks to lose like 10stone... I can't cope with the skin i'm in.

I hate thinking of titles.

I made a mistake in yesterdays post. I said something I didn't mean, well actually, I'm not entirely sure on whether I do or don't mean it. "I don't want to recover"

That is, for the most part, a lie. I do want to recover, I don't want these illnesses to define me anymore. I want to be able to eat nice food with good company and not care about the calories or who's watching. I want to eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm full. I want to step on the scales and not care what the number says, actually, I don't want to find it necessary to step on the scales at all. I want to accept my body and be comfortable in my skin. I want to enjoy food, I want to think about something other than my next meal or my weight. I want my life back. I want to be recovered.

I can't do it alone though. I'm lucky because I have an amazing friend who supports me as much as she can and is literally always there when I need her and I'm lucky that the youth workers where I live have been fabulous. There's only so much they can do though and there's a lot they don't understand and there's only so many times you can cry for help before you become a burden.

I want to be recovered but the professionals don't want to help me. CAMHS were rubbish and basically gave up, the next referral to them was passed on to adult mental health. Their soultion was anti-depressants and other referrals, different doctors sames drugs same dose no success, an appointment with the door wide open for everyone to hear the ins and outs of my mental health. Referrals rejected because I'm too fat. A phone call to IAPT who said they couldn't help. The 'home treatment team' who didn't turn up to my appointment, cancelled others but were the ones to yell at me down the phone. The crisis team who were quite frankly appalling. More pending referrals... I don't want to recover because I don't want to carry on going through this long painful process of spilling my life story to every stranger I meet just to be let down again. I don't want to recover because I don't think anyone can help. I cant recover because I clearly don't deserve the help. This has been part of my life for too long that I can't imagine what life would be like without it, I can't remember what life was like before it. All I know is that if i'd of had the proper help to begin with maybe life would be different, maybe I'd believe there is life without this.

I can't completely blame the mental health services but I can blame them for making me give up with recovery all together.

Havent got a clue

My posts all seem the same these days. South Africa and anorexia. For that I apologize but they currently both are taking up a lot of my brain space. So here I am again counting down the days and counting the calories that enter my body. Thinking about what I need to take and even more so, how I'm going to lose weight before i get there.

There is always internal conflict inside my head at the moment of which is more important to me. Losing weight and liking my body, making myself happy. Or 'recovering' hating my body and gaining (or maintaining) weight, making others happy.

I know if I continue on this path of self destruction suddenly having to eat 3 meals a day without exercising willy-nilly might just push me over the edge. But at the same time gaining weight before the holiday of a life time might do that quicker. I preach recovery but don't want to recover.

It's now 24 days until I go and my mental health is quickly becoming less.. healthy. I want to pretend that I'm in control of this and that by the time I go away everything will be back to 'normal' but what if it isn't?  What if I get to another goal weight and I'm still not thin enough?

I apologize that nothing I say makes sense anymore.

are my eyes broken?

I have worked so hard to try and lose weight the healthy way, exercise and food as opposed to exercise and oxygen. Trying to get to a body I don't mind being in. Getting to a 'goal weight' and still not being satisfied. I do not see a difference between my current weight and my highest weight. The numbers are different, my clothes size was different the way people treated me was different but I do not see a difference.

I've been trying to hard to do it the 'healthy' way but that still displeases people. I'm not a fan of hugs because I don't want people to feel how fat I am. Yet the rare occasion someone gives me a hug i'm told i'm 'too skinny' or that they can 'feel my bones'. But I don't see it.

I could sit and stare at myself for hours, tracing the rolls of fat on my stomach and watching my thighs expand as I stare. And it's hard because when I try to talk about how I feel about my body to people I get dismissed, laughed at, "if you're fat what does they make me?" "it's all in your head" nobody take's me seriously. They don't get it. It's lonely when they don't understand.

I hate it when people say stuff along the lines of 'You've got too skinny' or 'You look like you've lost weight' and even 'Have you been making yourself sick?!' I don't look any different and while they might say it to try and make me briefly happy it just feels like i'm being lied to, then i find it difficult to trust anything that person says..

But, are they lying to me or are my eyes just broken? 

internal monologue.

I leave for Africa in 36 days. 51,840 minutes. 3,110,400 seconds. 864 hours. In that time I will attend college 5 times, spend 20 days at work, go on one trip to Gardeners World Live and go for a jog maybe, twice?

While I sit here trawling the internet on various clothing websites trying to find clothes and swimming costumes to take with me my heart breaks. I click on the 'swimwear' section and stare at the teeny-tiny models with incy-wincy waists. "Why don't I look like that?"  Perhaps I'll sleep instead of go into any pools at buffelspoort... Bikinis that show off my flabby stomach and swimming costumes that still don't hide the layers of blubber that covers my body just aren't for me.

But I still need clothes that I'm not going to boil in while in the African sun.. Skirts, shorts, dresses... I find several that I like, being modeled on match-stick legs with a gap the size of a car separating their thighs. "They're nice, but only if my legs looked like that" I stare at my thighs in the reflection of the mirror. It's normal for thighs to touch but when it's my body it's repulsive. My thighs are wide and keep getting wider. Perhaps I'll wear pajamas the whole time.

It's hard to look forward to things when you don't like how you look. Don't get me wrong, I am super-duper excited to go to Africa I've never been this excited for anything, ever. But the insecurities and anxieties are already beginning to bubble inside of me. Whatifnobodylikesme, theyareallgoingtolaughatmebecauseimfat, howamigoingtogetawaywithnoteating, imgoingtobetheugliestpersonthere,iamfatfatfatfatfatfatfat, illnevergetskinnyin36days...

What's more important to me recovery or a 'bikini body'? 

Fat anorexic

The past few days i've not been very well. That's bad because I hate being unwell, I had to have time off work and I revert back to being a small child and demand sympathy. It's good because I get to sleep lots and it means I've lost weight.

It also meant I had to visit the doctor. Which meant I needed to get weighed. My BMI has dropped and all they can say is "You still look healthy" I wrote a post before on mental illnesses being diagnosed using physical criteria.. I now meet the physical criteria but I'm not meeting the expectations of physical appearance. Something is wrong here.

You can not look at someone's physical appearance and know whether or not they are ill. I am underweight that is a fact, whether I look it or not is irrelevant.
It's like telling someone with depression they don't look suicidal so they can't be that bad.
Telling someone with cancer they don't look like they're dying so it can't be terminal.
Telling someone with diabetes they look normal so it's okay if they have a huge slice of cake.
Someone with dementia that they look clever so to stop fooling around.

YOU WOULDN'T DO IT.
 So why is it different when it comes to eating disorders?  Or is it really just because i'm fat...

A New Name

My post's are all rubbish and for that I can not apologize enough, so instead of writing a post im just going to send you a link to someone elses..

CLICK HERE to read Emma Scriveners post entitled 'Eating with an anorexic' It's full of some useful idea's for those of you who may be aiding someone in their recovery journey.

In fact all of her blog posts are fabulous so maybe you should stop reading my blog and start reading hers.

sorry

Can I just remind the entire human population that drawing attention to the amount somebody does or does not eat is not okay and neither is joking about mental-disorders.

Do not question my portion size. It is 10000% unacceptable to say "Is that all you're having?" or "you need more than that" because that will make me feel like I'm not recovering as well as I like to believe.  And on the opposite end of the scale if you say something like "That's a lot!" or "I've never seen you eat so much!" there is a 3000% chance that I will feel guilty for eating it and probably end up wasting it and not eating the next day either. There's also a slim chance I will punch you. Do not mention it, too much or too little, don't say a word.

Please also don't turn eating disorders into a joke, the most recent being "I think i'm anorexic, everytime I look in the mirror a see a fat person" (Said by someone who is potentially overweight...) And NEVER EVER make an eating disorder seem like an okay/normal thing I recently heard someone say "You could always chuck up your meals, you still get to eat it and not have the calories" and I honestly think they were being deadly serious.. Do not encourage disordered behaviors if they follow through with that they will be damaging themselves and ruining their life. Eating disorders are not funny or some quick weightloss fix that you can do until you've achieved a size 8 body. They are serious life threatening mental disorders, what's so funny about that?

And if everyone on facebook wants to stop doing that "comment one food and I wont eat it for a month" thing that would be greatly appreciated. If you have your heart set on losing weight restricting certain food's is not the way to go about it. I feel like im writing the same thing over and over again, sorry about that...

Ive said this before

Dear boys and girls, ladies a gents. I think what I am about to say I have a said a million times before but it is important.

I just want to remind each and every one of you that YOU ARE PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE. It seems every single conversation i've had recently turns into one about weightgain, weightloss, diets, exercise, raspberry ketones, calories... It is genuinely breaking my heart to know that so many people feel that they need to lose weight or meet some sort of social constructed idea of healthy.

My heart honestly sinks when I hear someone talk about their body in a way that I would talk about mine because I know how much it hurts to be so disgusted with your body that losing weight seems like the most important thing in the world. I hate how so many I people I know cry over the number on the scale. An inanimate object, a piece of glass (or plastic) should not be the thing that determines how you feel about yourself. A clock is also plastic and shows numbers, you wouldn't let a clock affect you in such a way a scale does... it makes no sense.

Whether you are 4 stone, 14 stone or 40 stone the number should not change your worth as a human being. There is so much more to your life then stupid numbers and fad diets and trying to get skinny for summer. If you want to eat cake go a head and eat it and if you gain weight who the fuck cares. Anyone who cares about your weight does not care about you. You don't need to lose weight to impress anyone.

So please dear humans of the world can you all try to love yourself a little bit more and talk about weightloss a little bit less..

I am scared.

In 77 days, that's 110,880 minutes, and if you prefer 6,652,800 seconds I will be on my way to South Africa. I will be there for 42 days, that's 60,480 minutes, and if you prefer 3,628,800. In the 1008 hours that I'm there my life style will have to be completely different to what it is now. Things. Need. To. Change.

Now, while 6,652,800 seconds might seem a lot, it's not as long as something else I've been waiting for. Help. I've been actively trying to get help for more than 365+ days, that's 525,949 + minutes, and if you prefer 31,356,000 seconds and counting... If I'd of been given the help I need even 100 days ago, that would be better than the position I'm in now.

I have 77 days in which I need to recover. Now I have to make up my mind of how to go about this. Do I spend, perhaps, 30 days attempting to lose weight and get to a low enough weight that they will have no choice but to help me, then give them 47 days to stabilize not only my mental but my physical health to.  Or the other option is go it alone. 77days. That's 231 meals, 154000 calories (assuming a normal amount is 2000 per day), and a weight gain to deal with, without the help of professionals and with very little support. For some reason I don't think either have a very high success rate.

So instead in 77days all my disorders behaviors will suddenly have to STOP. I will have no choice but to hold down meals and eat off different plates and consume more than 300 kcals a day, I wont be able to make my own meals so I know exactly what goes into it and I certainly wont have internet access to google the calorie contents. That scares me. I will not mentally be able to cope with that.

I needed the support to have started 365 days ago. In fact the support should of started 1826 days ago. But the mental health services and (sometimes) doctors are rubbish because to them it doesn't matter how low I feel because my BMI is too high. Im scared about being 5979 miles away from home knowing that I will not be able to cope simply because my mental health was determined by my physical appearance. Oh NHS, you've got something wrong.

"You can't see the glow in your smile"

For those of you have not yet discovered Molly Kestner you might want to listen to her beautiful songs.
I was an emotional wreck after listening to one of her songs! Have a listen..

I run out of tea bags.

I apologize for both the lack of posts and the fact that any posts that have been written have no meaning and make no sense. Although this is probably also going to be a pathetic excuse of a post, sorry..

I have just read something that says; "What screws us up the most in life is the picture in our head of how it's supposed to be. "
The picture in my head of how my life is supposed to be is definitely far from what it is. My plan for my life was/is..
To ideally be a millionaire so I wouldn't have to leave my bed, or at least be on £7 an hour. I'd have a family that never ever argues and tea-bags never ran out. I'm supposed to have a body a lot smaller than mine, I'm supposed to have lots of friends an existent social life. I'm supposed to eventually marry David Beckham and I'm also supposed to have some kind of talent, perhaps the ability sing or maybe even just to be really flexible.  I used to picture myself swimming in confidence and I was definitely supposed to end up a lot prettier than what I am. And while suffering with depression I didn't even picture myself living this long.

Unfortunately I have to leave my bed for all of £2.68 an hour, my family argue and the tea-bags run out. My body is larger than i'd like it to be, I have possibly 2 friends and a non-existent social life. David Beckham doesn't know I exist and my only talent is my ability to give a sarcastic response to almost anything. I have literally no confidence and I look like something off of Jeremy Kyle.  The fact I'm typing this means I have lived this long.

My life is not how I want(ed) it to be, but my faith in God is stronger than I ever expected it to be. I stopped going to church for a while and didn't ever picture myself admitting I do go to church let alone actually praying and trusting in God. His plan for my life, is bigger and better than the plan I have/had for my life.

" For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" Jeremiah 29:11

Please sign.

I was just scrolling through my facebook newsfeed and came across THIS E-petition while I'm not a huge believer in petitions purely because im 90% sure they do absolutely nothing this is one I am going to take the opportunity to promote. For those who haven't clicked on the link the petition is for:

"Anorexia sufferers to get intensive support at start and NOT when they start dying

Responsible department: Department of Health

Many anorexia nervosa sufferers get little or no treatment when they are first diagnosed. Often they get only get help when they become severely physically ill which is then too late because they have already been ravaged by the illness which also reduces their chances of recovery. Early intervention such as therapy, dietetics and specialist eating disorder treatment could nip AN in the bud, save the individual profound suffering and save the cash-strapped NHS money as there would be fewer hospitalisations (long-term admissions can be several months). AN has the highest mortality rate of all psychiatric diseases, and people with cancer would not be left to be treated at the last stage of their illness."

A subject matter that means a lot to me, after being passed from service to service to eventually be told I am not at a low enough BMI (I was literally 0.1 away from it being low enough) to receive help. It's basically the same as telling sufferers "Go lose some more weight and damage your mental and physical health more before we even consider helping you" Good one Nhs... 

The person who created the petition summed it up beautifully so im not going to try and say anymore on the matter, but if you have two minutes to sign the petition that would be much appreciated.

Now what?

If you've been reading my blog long enough to have seen my post 'Silence speaks louder than words?' then you've been here a long time. There is a a sentence in this post which says " What suddenly made the cry for help become a whisper?"  At first I blamed society, friends, family, ignorance. Now, I'm not so sure. 
For me and my experience trying to get professional help, it seems that the people aren't exactly professional or helpful. It's not that professionals don't hear our cry for help they simply shut them up, block them out, arentintheslightestbitinterestedunlessyou'reabouttodropdowndead.

I've been passed from pillar to post and gone all round the hat-rack trying to get people to listen to my cry for help. I've been unsuccessful on every occasion. Not meeting the physical criteria for a mental illness. Not getting help from one one service because another is supposedly helping. Being too ill and not being ill enough. Nobody cares, nobody want's to help. My crys for help have been ignored, the professionals have turned the cry into a whisper.

It's actually appalling that people who ask for help are refused it, they're left to slip through the gaps.

Where do I even go from here?

battle wounds

Today is one of those rare days in England where the sun is actually shining, and believe it or not, it's warm! I hate days like this. I love the sunshine, hate the warmth.

Warm weather means it's not normal to hide under 5 layers of clothes to keep warm. For most it means short sleeves and shorter shorts. For someone who began self harming in 2006 it means covering up from head to toe and boiling half to death. Well maybe not boiling to death but getting pretty close.

Sunshine and scars don't mix. While the rest of the world seem to be wearing weather-appropriate many self harmers are hiding behind sleeves and trousers. Me being one of those people. Don't get me wrong I am not ashamed of my scars, i'm not proud either, but i'm not ashamed. I am on the other hand embarrassed, it feels like everyone else in the world knows how to cope in ways which don't involve self-inflicted pain.

I honestly admire anyone who can walk around and not care about the looks and comments they get when people see the scars. I'd also like to point out to ignorant people that just because someone isn't hiding their scars doesn't mean they are 'attention seeking'.

(I went out and forgot to publish or even finish this post now i've lost my train of thought and it's freezing now instead of warm but whatever)

don't pull the trigger!

As i've mentioned approximately 3 billion times before, recovery is hard. Now, Please remember that when I talk about 'recovery' it's always going to be my own personal experience and 90% of the time will mean Eating Disorder recovery.

If you haven't guessed, this post i will be talking mainly about triggers. By that I don't mean what initially triggered (or caused) the illness/disorder as that's not always a simple thing to recognize. I mean the smaller things that have a negative impact on recovery.  The word 'Trigger' is used to describe a situation or certain thing that lead to disordered behaviors or thoughts.

So using an eating disorder as an example some triggers might be other people talking about their weight loss. People talking about the person in recovery's weight (eg. someone saying "You look healthy" is often interpreted as you've got fat) other triggers might be going out to eat at an unfamiliar place or clothes that once fitted becoming too tight.

It is important that if you are recovering from a mental illness you can identify what triggers you so you can learn to either cope with or avoid those situations. If you're a recovering alcoholic and you know going to the pub triggers you to drink then perhaps decline invites to the pub. Its vital that you don't put yourself into a situation you know will cause a lapse.

Self care is also a really important part of recovery. Try to avoid isolating yourself, allow yourself to be kind to yourself and try to think positively, maybe even treat yourself! (After all you do deserve it, and the voice telling you that you don't is a liar). Allow yourself to relax and have a long soak in the bath. Do what you have to do and do it for you. Click  HERE for some simple tips.

(Ps. My blog is officially a year old! so 3000 views in 15 countries, 54 posts, and 367 days later here we are! Thankyou to everyone who's ever read my blog, it's a bit crap but you all keep clicking the link anyway!)

Ramblings

I wish it was acceptable to just be like 'You know what, today I'm having a bad mental health day and I need support/a hug/my bed/alone time.'But, unfortunately, it's not.

For me every day is hard, but some days are unimaginably hard. Not for any particular reason and not for reasons people understand. It's not like I have deadline to meet, exams to sit or something like a  funeral to attend. The days are not hard in that sense.

They're hard because I want to be as useless as I feel. I want to crawl back into bed and not wake up for at least 10 years. I don't want to talk or eat or move or exist. Today was one of those days. Usually that would mean actually going back to bed and staring at the ceiling for hours upon hours, but my job stops me from doing that.

And it's hard because the anti-depressants don't work and the motivation to recover is lost and I can't sleep to stop my brain from going 100 miles an hour.

I don't know why I'm writing this so I'm going to stop because it doesn't make it sense and its not going anywhere.

There's more than anorexia!

I apologize for the lack of blog posts over the past couple of days, i haven't had chance to sit down!
Today s post will be about less common eating disorders. The one's that aren't anorexia or bulimia so nobody seems to talk about.

Orthorexia - A person suffering with orthorexia will only eat foods that they think to be 'healthy' 'safe' or 'clean' and avoiding foods the deem as unhealthy. So not eating chocolates/crisps and perhaps eating only organic, sugar-free foods.

Drunkorexia - I'm not entirely sure on the in's and outs of this one but drunkorexia is literally restricting foods  in order to be able to binge drink without gaining weight from the excessive alcohol consumption. It is also when alcohol is used to suppress your appetite and therefor lose weight.

Night eating syndrome - "People with night eating syndrome are characterized as people that put off eating until late in the day, who binge on food in the evenings and who experience problems with falling asleep and/or staying awake" (source)

Binge eating disorder - If you haven't guessed this is when a person binge-eats. Consuming large amounts of food on a regular basis, usually in a short period of time even if the person is not hungry.

(i have no idea why my fonts changed and i cant seem to change it back, sorry!)

Eating disorder not otherwise specified - (EDNOS) A person with EDNOS will show signs and symptoms of either one of more eating disorders but down not meet all the criteria to be diagnosed as only anorexic. For an example, if someone meets all the other diagnostic criteria for anorexia but still menstruates they would be diagnosed with EDNOS.

All eating disorders are serious, regardless of somebodies weight/size and no matter how much or how little they are eating all of the disorders can and will cause damage to a persons body.  

Bulimia.

And for today's Eating disorder awareness week post I will be talking about... Bulimia.

What is bulimia?
Bulimia (Bulimia Nervosa) is both a mental illness and an eating disorder. People with bulimia try to control their weight by bingeing and purging.

What is purging?
According to the dictionary purging is to 'Physically remove something completely'. Bulimic people can purge in a number of ways. These include self-induced vomiting, laxative abuse and excessive exercise.

Who gets bulimia?
While females are often more likely to develop bulimia nervosa it is also common in males (1 in 5 bulimia sufferers are male). Just like with other eating disorders, anybody can get bulimia at any stage in their life but it usually develops in females aged 18-19. It can develop in younger childhood but this is less common.

Diagnostic criteria
Some of the diagnostic criteria for bulimia can be found HERE.

Signs of bulimia
Changes in weight (Most bulimics are of a healthy weight, or even over weight, so don't assume because someone isn't stick thin theey are not suffering)
Cut, scarred or swollen knuckles. (This is caused by using finger to induce vomiting).
Disappearing soon after eating (To enable them to purge).
Periods of starvation or over-eating.
A rounder face (Caused by swollen saliva glands).

If you are suffering with an eating disorder I urge you to visit your GP so they can provide the help needed to recover. Treatment often includes talking therapy's, medications such as fluoxetine (anti-depressants) and in severe cases inpatient hospital treatment may be necessary.

If you are a parent/sibling/friend and think your child/sibling/friend might be suffering please try and talk to them. You may find THIS useful.

Inside the minds

I asked a few people, what it is/was like to have an eating disorder. Hoping it would give some people a better understanding. These eating disorders include Anorexia, Bulimia and Eating disorder not otherwise specified (EDNOS) Here's the answers I received:

"It felt like I was stuck in a black and dark hole and I kept trying to haul my self out but kept falling back into it over and over again. But eventually there was a light and the hole opened up." "A constant fight against the mind and body that you'll never win ."

"I always felt hungry but something was telling me not to eat. I constantly felt like I wasn't good enough, it didn't matter how much weight I lost it wasn't enough."

"Its a living hell, that controls everything you do. You can't escape it not even when you go to sleep, its there 24/7 and no matter how much people try to help you, you are powerless to the eating disorder voice, it becomes you, it takes over your life, and your trapped, in a torturous turmoil that could ultimately kill you" "Like hell on earth.
Fighting with your worst enemy only to realise you are you're fighting yourself. Have you ever heard the comparison between an eating disorder and a life boat? "Imagine you're on a ship, there's a wreck and you fall into the water. It's cold, wet, stormy and terrifying. You have one life jacket. In the distance you hear someone calling to save you but in order to do so you have to let go of the life jacket. Anorexia is that life jacket. It is her safety and she's terrified to let it go"" "I couldn't think about anything but food, calories, weight, numbers. Nothing else mattered. I hated it and I hated myself. Recovery still to this day feels like losing a best friend." "Well, It's like you f***ing love food so much but eating is the worst thing you can do. You battle between eating the food because or beautiful, or the regret afterwards." If you're suffering with an eating disorder and are looking to get help click HERE.

Good girls swallow

For those of you who have me on facebook you may remember seeing this picture that I uploaded last year. A lot of dirty minded people where probably shocked (or amused) after seeing the photo., although, it's not as rude as it may seem.

The caption of the photo was "Millions of girls (and even boys) suffer from eating disorders and this week (Feb 11-17th) is eating disorders awareness week with this years theme 'Sock it to eating disorders'. Eating disorders do not discrimate, you dont have to be stick thin to have one, regardless of somones gender, age, weight, size, ethinicity, whatever, they could be suffering. So yes, Good girls do swallow, their food." So folks, it's that time of year again: eating disorders awareness week 2014 (23rd feb - 1st march).

I am planning to (but probably wont) write a different post for each day relating to some kind of eating disorder, finding help and other bits and bobs that cross my mind. So watch this space!

trigger warning

Everywhere I look (okay, only twitter, facebook and tumblr) there's this daft saying floating about.
"Suicidal people are just angels that want to go home"

And I think if i see this somewhere one more time I am going to scream. STOP ROMANTICIZING AND GLAMORIZING SUICIDE. Suicidal people are not angels, they are human beings, human beings with mental illnesses. They do not want to go 'home' they want the pain to stop.

They need love, support and real fucking help. They do not need people to try and turn suicide into some kind of cute shitty poetic bollocks.  It is a serious and already misunderstood problem that people need to stop sugar coating and  romanticizing.  So if you could all just stop for a second and offer real support instead of some bullshit quote that makes suicide seem like a perfectly normal and okay thing to do that would be much appreciated.


If you are suicidal and need support please ring one of these numbers. You can also google to see if your local mental health people have a crisis team that you can call.
Samaritans: 08457 909090
Child line: 0800 1111
NHS Direct:  0845 4647