Wednesday, 29 February 2012

everything's quiet and everything hurts, the tip tap of souls leaving this earth.

i am so tired. it's this physical exhaustion that sends me to sleep for hours but awakes me still sleep filled. and my body aches. it hurts horribly and the painkillers don't work any more because i took too many of them in my anorexic life.

you get rid of one ill and then there's another around the corner, as if to say, "serve you right for wasting your time on perfection." it makes me sad. it makes me tired.

x xx

Monday, 20 February 2012

Friday, 17 February 2012

if there's one thing about acceptance i haven't grasped yet, it's accepting it.

i met a few amazing people in hospital, our situations both awfully similar and terrifically different, but knowing them now, is not always helpful.

because if we're talking eating disorders then there's a small crazy part that never leaves; it's the subconscious that posts entire albums showing their stick legs or writes about their relapses on facebook instead of their successes.

don't misunderstand me here, everyone needs a place to vent but publicly to your close friends on social networking sights? i just don't understand. i write here because for the most, i am no one.

(of course that didn't entirely work out but that's another story)

i honestly don't need to know that you've got retubed, especially when we all know you don't need a tube because your actually overweight.

i don't need to see your skinny ass posing in size six clothes that are too big.

nor do i need to know that you ate a piece of cake.

or that you want to loose weight.

these ideas, obsessions, intentions are not an option. forget them.

you got tube fed, yeah well so did i and so do lots of other people. i don't need to see it as your status update on facebook!

wow, you fit size six. again, i don't care. i could fit a size six too if i tired but that's not my aim.

a piece of cake, congratulations. everyone else in britain eats cake too.

and don't loose weight. we all know where it'll end up and it's not pretty or fun or happy.

recovering from an eating disorder is not fun. i don't remember that being part of the description when i finally started. in fact, let's be honest, recovering from anything is not usually fun. but then, neither is being ill. yes when i was deeply anorexic i felt powerful, superior, wistful, indestructible but i was also cold, lonely, hungry and genuinely the most upset and low i have ever felt. my bad days now don't measure up to even of half of what i felt when i was ill. i can barely cope with my bad days now so i can't imagine going back to a place where i felt far worse far more of the time.

you have to get on with it. and yes, that may seem a little harsh, perhaps a little naive or as if i'm making it out to be easier than it is. but at the end of the day, eating is a basic human need and one that we can and do get back to.

it's a choice.

what's yours?

x xx

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

minding me needs you please

please have a look, spread the word and follow via blogger, facebook and twitter -

merci beaucoup! x xx

Sunday, 5 February 2012

letting go can only make you lighter, forgiveness is a talent that i rarely find in others.

see you hate us but we don't hate you. at least, we didn't ...i don't think. we're only starting to. but i know we could turn the other cheek. i know we'd forgive you if you meant the sorry words you say.

cause how can it be fair, that we are judged for past mistakes but we don't judge on your current jealousy.

granted seventeen years is long to bind. though it's not time that makes friends last, its friends that make time who last.

i know, cliched to the skys. i guess they wouldn't be cliches if not true and widely spread.

i'll pray you see us for more that what you think we are. cause hate hurts and i don't want anyone to hurt from a pain like that.

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

porcelain puppet dolls