At first glance it might seem that I am just a happy, normal girl who loves to bake and walk her dog. However, I have suffered with an eating disorder since I was 13. It was only in May 2014 when I realised that this Voice in my head was slowly but surely trying to kill me. And so began the long, hard, and painful journey which is recovery...
I want My Cocoa Stained Apron to be a special place...a place for reflection, memories, shared stories...and of course a little bit of cocoa-staining ;) Recovery might be the hardest thing you ever choose to do in this life. But it is also the bravest and best decision you will ever make.:)
Monday, 1 February 2016
The New Spring.
I don't want to feel like that anymore...
so hollow, so empty, so lifeless and broken deep inside.
Didn't I want this year to be my year. Didn't I want to come alive again, like the vibrant, blossoming, bountiful buds of spring?
But the new spring did not only bring of course, spell upon spell of pure, unbroken, immaculately golden sunshine; days of vitality and growth, spans of fertility, renewal, life. Instead, that spring brought to me rain, and with that rain, the terrible, uncontrollable, wrathful storms. Thick, grey, inter-penetrable clusters of heavy dark clouds crowding in on one another, blocking out the light, casting my world into darkness.
The tender little snowdrops, became soaked and dripping with icy rain.
It's all they could do...that I could do...to barely keep themselves upright, to not be ruthlessly torn from the soil.
I know I have been absent from my blog a little while since I wrote my last post. There are a few reasons for this, all of which I will reflect upon a little more over the next few days. But, firstly...the past week I have felt so disconnected from everything. And recovery is, as always, proving just so, so hard.
And so, yet another week passed me by; another week in which I tried so, so hard to get fully back onto my meal plan, to achieve all of my goals, to give recovery my 100 % ; to never, not once, give in to the cruel, heartless, whispered dictations, of ED.
But...of course, I did not fully, completely, succeed. For every ED victory that I won, there was, eventually, yet another loss.
But if I don't continue to fight...
Then I know I will remain entrapped, within this dark and lonely winter, forever.
So cold, so bitter, so desolate. So deprived of light, and warmth, and life.
If I choose not to recover, I am just going to spend the rest of my life in and out of counselling sessions, sitting in doctor's waiting rooms...I could end up back in hospital, for a second, third, fourth time. Countless times. Perhaps for not as long as I was in there before. Or. Maybe even longer than I was, there before. Weeks, months, half a year. A whole year. And is that the way I want to live my life? Always...a patient? The "sick" girl? The girl who could not, would not, and did not recover??
I just need to realise that...I can recover. That I will, if I just allow myself to break away completely from ED.
That I have evry reason to recover, and that I have to fight for it, with every single ounce of strength that I have left in this tired, broken body. Because, as I wrote before...I have two choices, now. Black and white, life and death. Recovery, or eternal imprisonment. For as I well know, a life with an eating disorder is not truly a life at all; and the past few years it feels as if I have slowly been dying inside. torn and bleeding, with the pain, a pain borne out of the fear and the hatred and the guilt.
I need to come alive again...
I need to open up those buds of the New Spring. Let them blossom, let them grow.
I just want to say this, again..thank you, thank you, thank you, for staying with me. My days are just so dark at the moment, but your help and support is like a little candle of light in the darkness. And for that, and for everything else, thank you so, so much, with all my heart. <3 xxx