Wednesday, 22 June 2011

seven days, a hundred and sixty eight hours, ten thousands and eighty minutes.

it has been a week.

in that time i have not lost or gained. my heart is stable, almost good for the wreckage it is in.

it all seems so small in the grand wake of the world, i get frightened that family and friend's will think such small success is trivial; forget how long it took to get here.

but it's not trivial in the scale of my life, dominated by illness, my own and others, that i failed to acknowledge and other did not understand.

i've breathed each of those ten thousand and eight minutes, felt my heart beat fifty odd times in those sixty seconds, blinked inconsistently, slept fitfully, needed to pee far more than any normal person should. is this what it is to live?

i still struggle to convey how i am getting; when asked i reply with a breakdown of what i have done rather than how it made me feel. my feelings always come out as fine. i do not understand them any other way. but i guess some understanding of how i don't understand is better than nothing.

as i grow up, a little more each day, as i get better, a little more each day, i realise that are different things in me that anorexia hid.

there is the fact that i like chocolate and sitting still but there is more.

in high functioning adolescent girls symptoms of autistic spectrum disorders can manifest as anorexia nervosa. an inability to cope with change, the need for structure, organisation and planning, an intense interest in one very specific subject, a lack of insight into the emotions and feelings of both themselves and others, severe anxiety in social situations and a persistent misunderstanding of humour are all symptoms.

of course that is not to say you can jump to sudden conclusions if you fit a few diagnostic point.

but what about those who slip through the cracks; ever wondering why they are different, why cbt didn't work for them?

for in five cbt won't work because of underlying autistic spectrum traits. cbt didn't work for me; i can be as rational and logic as i like in words but transferring to actions and emotions is another thing all together.

i'm left wondering, is there a reason or an excuse why so many women go undiagnosed or have to fight to be heard? is that the health system is merely unequipped or is it rather that their intelligence is too good at allowing them to pretend in a world they do not understand?

just a thought...

love quinn

x xx

Thursday, 16 June 2011

these are a few of our favourite things...



my best friend


alfred the rabbit

green tea

my iphone




daisy chains




the westie puppy i will have

the beach

Monday, 6 June 2011

now there's question with no simple answer, mine would blurr to a thousand darkened polaroids.

describe me your life like i have to you. se vous plait mes cheries.

mine would be worn at the edges, thumbed like the case notes i've been. no date on the back because time has lost it's place. it's taken under water, for the depths are dark like the scars covering me. but the sun flicks through the ripples, and we are swimming to the surface. and are we ready for the sun to burn our skin and the air to rasp our lungs? who knows. but i think we've tested endurance, our bodies to brink and suffocating it's below the water. no more trending water, we are ready to swim.

with love,

x xx
My photo
somewhere over the rainbow
hullo there stranger, welcome to the better side of me.

porcelain puppet dolls