Thank you!

A lot of the time I feel like i'm writing jumbled words and messy thoughts that nobody is really interested in.

But after now having way over 6000 views all over the world (Might not seem like a lot, but that's more than I ever thought i'd get!) I'd like to thank the people who actually read the rubbish I write.

I've received a few nice messages over the past couple of weeks and I really want to everyone to know how much I appreciate everyone's support!

"Hey I doubt you remember me - I just read some of your blog posts. You're an amazing writer and so inspirational. SO brave for sharing your stories.
Keep going with them, you should be so proud of yourself
Sorry if this was random x"


"Hey, you won't know me or at least remember me  - But just wanted you to know that I read your blog and have done for about a year and the messages and information you're putting out there is really helping people"


"Hi, I'm sorry if this a weird thing to say but I just want to thank you for your blog, it's nice to know that I am not alone and your blog has helped me more than you realise, Thankyou"
So thank you, dearest readers for actually expressing an interest and taking the time to read my blog. It means a lot.

If there is anything you guys would like me to write about then pretty please let me know, otherwise i'm going to stick to writing whatever crap pops into my head. 
You can let me know via facebook, or comment on this or any of my posts (You can do this anonymously).

You're all fab!
xxxxxxx

Dear parents

Dear parents,

They've got your child. They don't want to give them beck. They're doing their best to get them away from you, push you away, convince him/her that you do not care, that you're terrible.

They're going to harm your child and your child will cooperate without hesitation. They're going to make them do things that will break your heart and fill your eyes with tears. They're trying to kill your child. 

You're blissfully unaware because you're child is still at home looking fine, acting a bit strange at times. But the people that have your child are at home with you. They're with him/her 24/7, there is no escaping it, your child is trapped.

Instagram, tumblr, pinterest. Harmless, so they seem. But there is an entire population of people there who are harming themselves and dragging your child into their own self-destruction. A secret world full of "Pro-Anorexics/Bulimics/depressives/selfharmers/relapse"

Promoting mental illness, making it look glamorous. Encouraging your child to cut and binge and starve and hate themselves. Encouraging them to lose weight, lose friends, lose their lives. Competing to see who can get skinniest quickest and fast for the longest, who can cut the deepest, keep it secret for longest.

You might think you know your child, their accounts, that they're fine. But with increasing number of these accounts where you can see young boys and girls document there food intake, thought process and even picture of their self mutilation you can never be to sure.

They've given serious mental illnesses pet name in order to talk about them in such away that loved ones won't find out what's going on if they over hear any conversations.. So if you hear your child talking about any of these then it might be time to start asking questions

Each has a name for boys and a name for girls..

Ana/Rex (Anorexia). Mia/Bill (Bulimia). Perry/Pat (Paranoia). Annie/Max (Anxiety). Olive/Owen (OCD). Sue/Dallas (Suicidal). Deb/Dan (depression). Cat/Sam (Self Harm). Ellie/Ed (EDNOS)

And that is to name but a few.

 Beware parents, they've got your children.

What are those?

I get asked the same question probably 3 million times a year (Slight exaggeration). I never know how to respond, and I always want to bury my head in shame. It isn't often I walk around with short sleeves on, but I like to wear skirts and shorts and sometimes t-shirts that aren't all the way up to my neck. So chances are if i'm not covered from head to toe and something more than my face is showing than scars will be showing to.

So I am forever being asked "What are those?, How did you get them? What happened to you?"
And I think I give a different answer to every single person that asks, usually something sarcastic or something only a 5 year old would believe..

• When I was in Africa I got attacked by a Lion cub
• I fell in a thorn bush when I was little and the scars just never faded
• Stretch Marks 
• I have a cat that hates me
• Aliens abducted me and took bits of my skin so they could disguise themselves and take over earth
• I got dropped into a pile of shredded paper as a baby
• When I was doing catering I got into a serious knife fight
• I was born with hundreds of birthmarks
• My chainsaw malfunctioned, and well, needless to say I never used it again.
• I went skydiving and their was a freak wind and we landed in bin full of broken glass
• This one time, when I was really really drunk, i thought it would be funny to try and walk through a glass door... it shattered, so did my pride.
• When I was in neverland Captain hook and I were playing tig, and well... 
• S&M...

Eventually though, I will be able to answer by saying... "I used to self harm, but I'm better now"
And I long for the day when that no longer embarrasses me, when walking around in weather appropriate clothes during the summer is an option.

Fat families.

It's no secret that over half of my family (Including the extended bits) are fat. (Sorry guys, someone had to say it..) And as far as I'm concerned always have been. I often get told i'm not a 'true Brown' because my BMI isn't one that's in the 'overweight' section.

I'm not saying being fat is a bad thing, if you enjoy food go ahead, eat it until you pop. If your clothes size doesn't bother you and you don't let it define you then XXXL means nothing. If you are happy with a bit of extra padding then don't let anyone tell you you need to change.

But as for me, and my small proportion of the Brown family it seems like weight is a war on both ends of the scale. The battle of the bulge and the battle for bones.  We all share the same love of food. Infact we probably love food more than we love eachother, but hating ourselves/trying to change ourselves is something we probably all have in common.

And it's only been the past few day's i've realized this. We all torture ourselves first thing in the morning to step on the scale praying and hoping it will show a number less than yesterdays.

When I was close to my lowest weight the scales got hidden. Nobody used them while I was home in fear I'd find out their hiding place (Behind the freezer - I found them a few hours after they were hidden but sssshhh). Obviously they knew I had because they eventually moved to behind the sofa. This was done in an attempt to stop me weighing myself at least 10 times a day. Morning, mid morning, after a wee, after exercise, lunch time, after every time I used the toilet, mid afternoon, before I ate, after I ate, before I purged, after I purged, before bed, if I woke up in the night.

The number on the scale controlled my every thought, my mood, my decisions, my life. If I couldn't hop on the scale I'd hop on the wii fit and use that scale instead. Every time I visited someone elses house i'd go and use their scale.

These days I'm not quite as bad. I weigh myself at least once a day. (They recommend once a week...). But I am not the only one. My father hops on and off the scale every single day. My brother maybe twice a day. My sister every time she's here and she's just bought her own for her house. My mum every now and then. But we all do the same thing.

We all feel disappointed when the inanimate object projects a higher number than the previous time. We all feel a sense of achievement when the inanimate object shows a smaller number. We let the number control our actions for the day.

"I need to cut down again today the scale says I've gained X lbs"
"I've lost another X lbs, If I carry on eating well I'll be at Xstones in no time"
"I've gained X lbs, I need to do something about my weight"
"I can't have any chocolate today"
"I need to eat more vegetables and I might actually lost the X lbs I need to"
Or if you're me "If I weight more than X stone I will fxxking cut myself"

It's unhealthy that each of us let this block of glass define our mood, our meal choices, whether or not we're going to exercise.

We're all different weights in our family unit, ranging from Below 8 stone right up until the 20somethings. But we are all obsessed. We are al fighting the same battles against our bodies. We all share the desire to lose weight. We are all an 'unhealthy' weight. But why should we let that control us?

The number on the inanimate object does not define your worth.

Anti-human tablets.

I have recently started a new course of anti-depressants. I'm going to use the term 'Anti-depressant' lightly, because chocolate works better than these things. (And that's coming from someone with an eating disorder...)

I've taken 3 different types of anti-depressants, and the one i'm on currently they've tried to shove down my throat before - they didn't work. So here they are starting me up on a stronger dose of placebo.

But they do no work, they will not work and no matter how much people tell me to give them a chance they will not change anything.

A tablet isn't going to make me forget the sexual assaults. A tablet isn't going to suddenly trust people and have new found love for people I don't know. A tablet isn't going to get rid of my crippling fear of people. A tablet isn't going to take away the pain and the hurt. A tablet isn't going to make me suddenly love myself. A tablet isn't going to make it feel like i'm at home in my own house. A tablet isn't going to take away the scars that remind of everything that's ever been wrong. A tablet will not make me forget harsh words that cut deeper than blades ever did.

What it will do however is make me feel less human than I already do. Suck the life out of me, make me jittery, make me throw up because i've been told to take them on an empty-stomach when the leaflet says clearly not to. Make me sleep during the day because if I want to be dead I might as well just sleep, it's the same thing really but without the commitment. Make me teary and achey and tired. They have not however taken away the depression.

I long to feel human again. I want to have the ability to leave the house (or even my bedroom) without it taking as much effort as climbing mount everest. I wan't to be able to go out with friends but I push them all away because handling me on anti-depressants it worse than putting up with just the depression. I wan't to do things normal people do like go out for meals and leave the house without needing somebody for support. I want to be able to walk around with my head held high rather than wanting to bury it under the concrete I walk on.

I wan't these tablets to actually work. I wan't to be okay.