Finding my little lost gemstones...:) xxx

And so I sit and look out over my sunlit garden, letting the warmth of that evening sun dance upon the contours of my face. A light summer breeze gently tickles my hair, carrying the heady scents of the brightly coloured flowers and the onion-like fragrance of the chives growing on the patio beside me. It is an evening which is just, so perfect: and there is no place on earth now where I would rather be.

At my feet lay several dog-eared notebooks: each one with a cover strikingly different from the other. One is red with white polka dots; the front containing a small, mysterious picture of what appears to bbe a short little man stirring something in a big steaming cauldron. The mysteriousness of the picture is perfectly complemented by the words printed beneath it. The Magic starts here. A notebook which was just made to be one in which I make my scratchy, barely legible notes on Morokia.

Also amongst this unkempt pile of books and paperwork is a number of thick cookbooks; their pages and covers worn and splotched with constant usage and accidental spillages. And then there is the little notebook with the title Lovely Thoughts written on it: one which I designate my little to-do-lists for each day, as well as recovery thoughts and reflections, and also possible dates upon which I will see my friends.

All these things that I love to do: whether that be baking, or cycling, or writing fragments of Morokia. Walking the mountains, and going out for the day with a friend. All of these things, I very nearly lost: for they were buried , buried by the cruel spades and hands of Ed. But now I am beginning to find them again. Now I am able to catch that fleeting glimpse; a glimpse of what life without an eating disorder is really, really like.

Because this is what recovery should be partially about, for you, and for me. To find those little lost gemstones. To reclaim the things that we loved and held dear, but which, in relinquishing to Ed, we allowed to be simply carried away; or buried deep in the cold, unyielding ground. But nothing is ever truly lost without hope. You can, and will, reclaim what is rightfully yours. And if you refuse to give up and continue to fight on with your held high and your heart open and brave...then you will find that special littleplace, again. The peak of the mountain; the valley with the beautiful meadow. The beauty of true recovery is indescribable, valuable, precious. The fake, corrupted ideas of beauty implanted by your eating disorder are nothing in comparison: They, in their totality, must be completely and utterly destroyed.

The one gemstone that for me that still remains to be found is, I suppose, the social life which I once had. well no; if I was very honest, I dont know if I ever had a proper, true social life. Ed has been with me since the very first day I started at secondary school, meaning that when other girls my age would be going to parties and attending teenage discos, I would have been sitting alone at home, head buried in a textbook as I tried to memorise page upon page of senseless information. I had glimpses of what life could be like; especially, after my Leaving Cert. My two close friends and I went out that summer, and danced like there truly was no tomorrow. but then my illness worsened; my friends, began to move on; to different cities and different lives.

Will I ever find that gemstone again? I hope so. I hope so with all my heart. It will quite possibly be the hardest of my stones to find; as it requires bravery and maturity in me; as well as, I suppose, a willingness to put myself out there; to conquer the fear and the shyness and the self-hate.

But for now, I keep fighting, and searching. The sky is paling; the sun slips down below the dusky forms of the mountains. But I do not fear, because soon, the stars will come out. Twinkling and shining like pure, sparkling diamonds; just like the hope that now shines forth in my heart. <3 xxx