Acceptance...

Sunday. Sunday used to be...different, for me; then the other days of the week. I would wake, every Sunday over the past few months, with a feeling of tension; tautening every muscle of my body. Because Sunday was Weighing Day. Because Sunday was the day I would have to see, and know, my weight.

At the beginning of my fight back against the relapse, me and mam would get out the scales every Sunday afternoon: mam had suggested it, I had agreed to it; knowing, in my heart, this was the only way mam and dad would be able to ensure that I would not slip back on myself; the only way that I, too, would know for a certainty that I was actually gaining weight. And of course, I... hated it. I hated stepping on to that detested square object of bright blue metal, with its shiny surface and silvery buttons and the harsh, glaring numbers upon the screen at its very top. Numbers, which would jump out at me; as loud and as blatant as if they were painted in neon yellow. They were cruel: so, so heartlessly, pitilessly cruel. And the numbers would stick in my head for days after, taunting me, teasing me. You are gaining weight, the cruel voice sneered. You are going to be...so...

And thus, that was what I would endure, every Sunday evening. The fear, and the apprehension. And then, afterwards, the backlash of insults, hurled against me by ED.

And that's how it felt, at the beginning.

But now...

But now, things are different. I have changed.

the tables have been turned; turned by me.

And I never thought I would hear myself saying this, but...I am beginning to learn to not give a damn what the number on the scales is. I know what Mam's target is; I know that I am more or less at that, now. I'll find out today what the exact figure is. And that number....that number no longer terrifies me. It daunts me, a little - but no way as near as much as before. I no longer recoil with horror from that figure. I am beginning to learn, and recognise, that weight for what it really is. A number, and nothing more: save representing a rough idea of the weight at which my body is healthy, and able to function at its best.

To be able to accept my body and overcome the fear of being that weight which is my healthy set point...

This represented, at one time, an enormous, seemingly impossible, unachievable challenge, for me.

But I know I have overcome so many difficult challenges, before now. I gained weight by myself. I got myself back onto my meal plan, following months and months of restriction and starvation once again. I did it. It was me who had the strength. And now I know I have to draw on that strength again. Because I know that it is just a number. A number, nothing more. And it does not mean that I am ugly, or fat, or lazy. This number means nothing to my identity, to the person who is Emmy.

I am no longer afraid, of being at that number. The fear, I have destroyed...

All I need to do now is to find... the acceptance.

To learn to accept, like the little caterpillar must accept these strange new wings upon its back when it emerges from the cocoon, after the long, hard winter, a winter which it thought it would not survive. Am I ugly? It wonders helplessly. No, call the other butterflies, soaring in the sky. These wings are a gift. Your new body is a gift. It will lift you, take you high into the sky. You just need to trust those wings and let them grow and become stronger. You have to learn to accept them, accept the newness, the strangeness, the change.

And then the little caterpillar spreads its wings and flies, high into the sky, high towards the golden, glowing sun.

We can accept this, too. Because a healthy, strong body is one of the most amazing things that God can ever give to us.

One thing I have learnt in this post-relapse recovery, is this. You can and will conquer your greatest ever fears. You can, and will, achieve what you never thought was possible. For me, this meant gaining weight without a hospital admission, getting back onto my meal plan, and learning to accept my body at a higher, healthier weight. And I know that I still have alot to work on, but I know, that I am getting there, slowly but surely. And I hope, that by sharing my story with my readers today, that you will realise that you can do this, too. yes, you. You can overcome an eating disorder; you can and will reach the top of the mountain which is recovery. You can and will find acceptance.

Looking into that mirror...I saw a girl that the rest of the world could not see...

Out of all the works of English literature that I was obliged to study back in my days at secondary school - the novels and the classics; the long and drearily tragic pieces of epic poetry; the plays that didn't make any sense no matter how many times you endeavoured to read them - there is one particular poem that has, till this day, remained etched upon my mind, as if the lines themselves were inscribed upon my own memory, the same way as they were printed upon that smooth, blank page in the middle of my English poetry anthology. That being, Mirror, by Sylvia Plath. The words, the haunting imagery, the eerie insidiousness of that poem stilllingers with me, despite the fact that it's now years since I set my eyes upon that page.

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful...

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is...



But a mirror can be a cruel, cruel thing.

Because we see in that silvery glass a figure who we believe is a true reflection of who we really are. The mirror never lies...or so we are led to think.

 Because I know, deep down, what the truth really is.

Today after collage, I was standing changing my t-shirt before the tall, long, room-length mirror in my bedroom, tossing off the flimsy white garment I had donned earlier that morning to replace it with a top more suitable for walking. At my back, my reflection moved with me, mimicking my movements as I crossed the room to the wardrobe and leaned in to rummage through the line of clothes hung on the rails . Picking out the top that I wanted, I slipped it on over my shoulders, trying to ignore the Voice whispering repeatedly, at the farthest, darkest corner of my mind, to look, look, look. It was no use. Slowly I turned around, not wanting to see, not wanting to look, but powerless, so powerless to the merciless pull of the mirror. My reflection gazed mockingly back at me. All I could see was my stomach, bloated after lunch. I slid one hand upon the skin and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. At the back of my mind, that cruel Voice taunted. Ah, look at you. How could they ever say you look as if you have lost weight...? they are lying to you! The mirror never lies.

For looking into the mirror through the eyes of my eating disorder, I could see - I mean, I can still only see -  a girl who is not the same as the one seen by the rest of the world.

And that is the thing...the thing, that I need to realise, that I need to grasp. That when I look into the eyes of that girl in the mirror...I need to say to her...is this really me. Am I really choosing to see...the real girl in the glass? The slenderness of her legs and arms; the small, girl like, barely discernible breasts? Am I choosing to ignore the darkness of the shadows under my eyes; the cracked, dry, wrinkled skin on my hands? Am I refusing to see what the rest of the world can see, but which I, blinded by malignant, sneering, heartless taunts of my eating disorder, cannot acknowledge every time I looks upon my face and body in that glass...?

The body...the body of a child, a girl. Not a 21 year old young woman; not that of a healthy, happy girl who does not have this Voice in her head. A Voice which tells her, every single hour of every single day, that she is fat and repulsive. A Voice that tells her that she must, on pain of life itself, not gain weight. A Voice which tells her she should go back to starving herself; A Voice which tells her she will never, ever be happy, unless she remains underweight, thin, skinny.

But this is what that little Voice in my Head is telling me, when I look at the body of the girl who is me, in that mirror. Just look at you...you aren't that bad. Your body is just...the way it should be. 

But that Voice...that Voice is a cruel, deceitful,  cold-blooded liar...
And that girl that I see in the mirror,

Is not the girl that the rest of the world can see.

I cannot see this girl...

You were never truthful to me, Eating Disorder...

You are never truthful. Only...only cruel.

The perfect illusions...of perfectionism...

In my post from yesterday, I talked a little about how last week I temporarily lost both the motivation and desire to blog, due to the vice-like grip of perfectionism which has, just like Ed, been overshadowing my life and world for years, taking away joy and pride and enjoyment and satisfaction; replacing them with self-doubt, frustration, and self-loathing. It crushed every little segment of pleasure, crushing them into minuscule little fragments, scattering them upon the wind. To quote a close friend of mine: perfectionism is a b****. I couldn't agree more. Ed and perfectionism : the two are almost like malign sisters, hand in hand with one another, spoiling, taking and destroying wherever they go.

I thought alot today, about how I am going to tackle this problem of self-imposed perfectionism. To  bbriefly explain to anyone who might not be quite so familiar with this concept, this is how I would define perfectionism itself. It's like a sense within yourself, that everything you do, everything about yourself, ever single little thing in your life, your world, the person that is you...should be perfect, flawless, impeccable. And for me, it extended to thoughts about my body and personality too.

And so I formulated a little PLAN of sorts, and of course I just had to put it in LIST format (sorryyyyy!!! :o ): and I hope through sharing my advice and thoughts on this, I might help anyone else out there who is struggling with perfectionism - for I know all too well just how intrusive, how harmful it really can be; and how it can essentially infiltrate and contaminate all areas and branches of one's life - and I hope that together, we can all kick this thing's ass. Remember: NOBODY is perfect: no one single person on this earth is without fault or flaw, if you want to call them that. We are not inanimate robots: this is what makes us human. And what of the greatest accomplishments you could ever possibly make would be to recognise your own flaws and imperfections, and learn accept them, and love yourself for who you truly are, as well as recognising the flaws and imperfections of others, too. One of my favourite songs for recovery has to be Natasha Beddingfield's Freckles. It's a moving, heartwarming and beautiful song with a very true and important message.

'Cause a face without freckles is like the sky without the stars...

Why waste a second not loving who you are?

Those little imperfections

Make you beautiful, valuable, lovable,

Reflecting who you are

 Inside your heart.

• Acknowledge the existence, the presence of perfectionism in your life...but then end it there. Just because it is there, doesn't mean it has to affect you in such a harmful and damaging way. Oh here I just have to quote a line from Morokia that I wrote the other week!! Writing this it just fits in so perfectly to what I am trying to talk about...

He held his mind in a oneness; he was one with his mind, his mind was part of him. His thoughts, his feelings and emotions, were not in control of him: rather, he was the one in control of his thoughts. He saw the regret, the sorrow, the loss and the grief of the past. He saw them clearly, not attempting to push them away, felt their touch upon his skin. But then, he…released them, let them pass by, as if he were a rocky outcrop upon which a gentle wave breaks itself over, cleansing, touching, but not leaving him broken. Leaving him stronger, and ready. With renewed vigour he approached the final stair.

Remember that...YOU are in charge of your thoughts. INCLUDING those implanted in your mind by perfectionism!!!

• So yes, it is there...but the other important thing to remember is, you have to be patient and compassionate with yourself. You do not have to complete the mammoth and nigh on impossible task, of erasing our perfectionism from your life, entirely and wholly, in a matter of days, weeks or even months. These things take time. Be kind and patient with yourself. baby steps is the best way to go here.
• Learn to embrace yourself, for the person that you are. And I know that this is so so hard, but. It is possible!! get a recovery or self-motivation journal. Here is my own one!! ;) (I have many journals... ;) And in it, try writing a few simple little things on a very regular basis, once a day if you can. Such as 2.) three positive things a day. 2.) three good things that you did/achieved today. 3.) three things you are looking forward to, and they can be as simple or as elaborate as you like. 
• And in the journal write down the things that you like about yourself, your gifts, your talents, the things you like about personality. And as you write them, it is very likely that you will hear a voice screaming furiously in your head, telling you that everything you write is false and that there is nothing good or positive about yourself...but you just have to tell that voice to F*** off, basically, and continue writing them anyway. Remember: that voice might be there, you can hear it, but that does not mean that you should let it hurt you, control you. influence you. Continue to resist that voice, and it WILL get weaker, and you, stronger. 
• And then focus on the things which you enjoy doing or did once enjoy doing, bit now the pleasure you once derived from them has evaporated, because of perfectionism's heartless lies. ut what you just need to do here, is to start doing them, anyway, regardless. Again, start slowly. For me, getting back into Morokia / blogging again was all about taking things slowly and carefully. I told myself: ok, I am NOT going to rush ack into it, and expect myself to get pages upon pages of Morokia written in a day, or a whole long and 100 % perfectly written log post. No...it does NOT work like that. I am going to focus on getting a paragraph written, I am going to sit and blog for half an hour. And to write from my heart, and to enjoy it, and to recognise this, that this is my writing, my blog, and that I do not need to dedicate all my time and energy into making it flawless. It is unique and it is important to me.
• And something which I know might be of some help, is to purposely leave things uncompleted or imperfect. You might find (as I do) that you might spend hours doing something which most people might complete in less then half that time. I did this with Morokia the other week...instead of deliberating for ages about how best to write a sentence, I just let it flow out of me and let the words transcribe themselves in the page, telling myself that I would have time to edit later if I so desired, but for now, perfection did NOT matter. 

And now I am going to stick two fingers up at perfectionism and NOT spend ages editing my blog post!!!! Okay not something I would recommend doing for your thesis or essay etc but I think this action is very befitting on this occasion... ;)

My hair is all over the place, my shoes do NOT match my dress, I am wearing absolutely no make up and my glasses are Penney's finest, of course. :p But do I care? No! Because I realise now that perfection does NOT equal to perfect happiness!!

Love Your Body! :) Part 2

The second part of Love Your Body (I actually made this one up myself for a change, me being pretty unimaginative at the best of times...but I am really, really glad that I did don my thinking cap and conjure this one up!!) involves me listing the things that I like about my natural body; ie. the way my body is now that I have physically (there's a huge difference!!) recovered from anorexia. Compared to part 1, this was alot more difficult. Because my anorectic mindset is constantly trying to convince me, on a daily basis, of course, that now that I have gained weight, I am ugly, dumpy, chubby and unattractive. And that there is absolutely nothing to like anymore about myself, now that I have lost my "precious" skinniness. That I hate every single inch, every single fibre of my own body now. Yes. That;s what the Voice in my Head tries to tell me, every day.

But I know that is is all lies. Deep down, I know it is. I know now what I didn't know before: skinny is not beautiful. Being unnaturally skinny, I know, equates nothing but unhappiness, bad health, exhaustion, suffering. In my case, it meant weak, brittle, fragile bones, appalling concentration, liver problems, weakness and fatigue, dry skin, no energy or interest in anything, depression, isolation...to name but a few.

And so today I am going to defy the Voice in my Head, and all the lies and obscenities that it throws at me from the moment I awake in the morning, till when I go to sleep at night. I am going to list the things that I do like about my natural body. Because they are there, the positives; I just always tend to let them be outweighed and overruled by the things that I dislike. But this is where you begin, by focusing on those parts which you like, which make you, you. There might always be something which you will never be able to like, exactly, or which you will always be critical over - and that's okay, as long as you don't let it consume you and spend so much time focusing solely on them and hating yourself, your body, for it!!!

So here is my own template, a list of things I like about myself. I hope that you will all join in too - it's another crucial step to self acceptance and moving towards a more positive, confident and happier you:)

What I like about my natural body...

• My eyes - big and blue and sincere:)
• My dark blonde hair with the fair streaks, which is long, thick and lustrous. I have taken good care of my hair. I don't use straighteners or hairdriers and don't overwash it either. It's the one part of my body which I can safely say I really do like, and wouldn't ever even consider changing. 
  
• My sallow complexion - My skin colour is naturally quite tanned, and in the summer I go even browner. I think I get this from my Mam! ;)
• My eyelashes (they are kind of long!:) 

Of course, gaining weight meant that my body underwent many significant changes, and I now look alot different to the way I was before.But are these changes bad, ugly, and altogether, awful? No, of course they are not - it's just the voice of Ed who makes them seem like they are. All of the people who love and care about me tell me I look so much better now than I did when I was underweight. And I know that they would not lie to me. <3

And I am beginning to see for myself, that these changes are good, and that I do, look better. For example...

• When I was underweight, I had very bony, skinny arms. I hated them, biut of course I was way too afraid at the time to go and do something about it. But after weight restoration my arms are looking much, much better.
• And one of the best things about gaining weight..? I can actually say this with conviction - seriously. I've got boobs! Yes! I NEVER had them when I was skinny. But now, well, I guess you can see for yourself! :p
• I used to have really dry, cracked skin on my hands and on other parts of my body, too. My hands were espeially bad and could be very painful. i remember one of the first things my consultant ever said to me, having shook my hands on out first meeting at the clinic, was to comment on the dryness of my hands. But now it's a completely different story. I wil probably always have a worker's hands - a little worn from lots of washing up and cleaning (it comes withbeing a baker and I do like to cleran up as I go along ;) ), but thanks to the wonders of good nutrution, my hands lok and feel much better than they did when I was very underweight.
• My chest and ribcage were also very bony, and I hated them, but the way I felt about that was identical to the way I felt about my arms - hated them, loathed them - but too afraid to make that change. But now, they look so much better. I stil have my issies about this part of my body, but I know it is going to take time. I know now what I didn't know then...that skinny is NOT, and never will be, beautiful: happy and healthy are, and always will be. It doesn't matter what size, shape, weight or height you are: everyone is different, everyone is unique. There is only one YOU and YOU are beautiful. Take the time to love and respect your body for the way it is, instead of actively trying to change it, modify it, in order to look like someone else!<3xxx 

Love your Body! :) Part 1

A few days ago I wrote a post explaining how over the next week or so I am going to write a few wee lists which will hopefully help me (and all you guys too! :) ) to begin to appreciate and love your very own body. for accepting its so-called imperfections (thought I am a firm believer in the saying that it is all these little imperfections which make us special and perfect in our own little ways), bestowing upon it the care, respect and attention it deserves; and for recognising and appreciating everything it has done, will do and does for you, in the past, in the future and on a day-to-day basis. You and only you can be responsible for your body's health and well-being: others can help you, or try to force you to take measures in an attempt to protect yourself from causing you and your body from harm; but at the end of the day, the ball is in your court; it is your body, your life, and there is only so much people can do for you... inevitably, the person who has to take on the responsibility or who will suffer the consequences, whose life will be affected...is you.

And so today, I thought I would share with you my own list of the things that my body has done, and still does do, for me...things which I may have taken for granted in the past, things that I might not even have given a second thought to before. But now, I realise, that it is all because of my body that I could do and can do all these things. Writing a list like this acts as a real eye opener, to the extent to how hard your body works for you, what it has done for you, and which it loyally continues to do for you on a daily or regular basis...for as long as it can draw breath. We need to all realise just how amazing, how incredible our bodies really are; we also need to learn how to love, respect, and care for them. Always remember: your body will never give up on you; it will take care of you...as long as you are prepared to care for it, nurture it, in return.

• Without my body I would never be able to see, hear, or feel the world around me; without it, I would never, ever have been enabled to experience the breathtaking magnificence and beauty of the planet which we know as Earth. I wouldn't be able to inhale the delicate fragrance of the bluebells in springtime; I wouldn't be be able to hear the cuckoo calling or the blackbird singing from the rooftops, neither would I be able to witness to pale, radiant purity of a snowy morning. 
  

• because of my body, I was able to gaze over the sapphire-blue waters of the Pacific and watch fluffy wild sealions wreath and play in the tresses of yellowy kelp which form underwater jungles along the coast of California. I was able to climb to the top of Puig de Maria, running my fingers through the silvery leaves of the olive trees which overhung the rocky path upon which I trod. I was able to leave my footprints along the golden sands of the beaches of West Cork, the roars of the Atlantic crashing in my ears, the fresh sea breeze catching strands of my hair and casting them across my face.
• Because of my body I was able experience the magic of Irish dancing for myself, feel the pulsating rhythm and the enchanting beat of the bodhrán, leap across the stage like a creature of the faery world, as if my feet were on fire, as if I was one with that music. I will never forget being able to dance like that. And I hope by caring for my body, I might be able to do so once again.
• Because of my body I can feel the softness of my doggy's fur, ruffle his ears, take him for walks on the heathery bogs and moors, the rustling forests, the dewy meadows. I can pick up my cat and cuddle him in my arms, feel the warmth of his body against my own.
• I can write and do things with my hands - knit and draw and make delicious creations in the kitchen. 
• And of course, it was my body which kept me alive, when I at my lowest weight in the depths of anorexia. Despite all the strain and abuse that I forced it to endure, my body refused to give up on me, and allowed me to survive. Now I know is the time I repay my body in full for everything it has done for me, and, though I know this is easier said then done, I am determined to prove to my eating disorder that it is no longer the one who decides what is best for my body. 

And there you go, just a snapshot of some of the things which my body does and has done for me which I am so, so grateful for. Think about your own body, your own life, and what your body has done for you. Love your body and it will love you back; choose recovery and fight your eating disorder. It is the best thing you could possibly do for your body! <3 xxx

It's the only one you will ever, ever have...

If, at some point in your life, you accidentally snap your favourite chain in two, snag and tear your beloved little black dress on a door handle and rip it at the seam, or drop your expensive, high-tech smartphone on the hard stone cobbles of the pavement causing an unsightly crack to open up across the screen, your reaction might initially be one of anger, frustration, sadness, and guilt. And then, overriding all these various different feelings that you might have, there is an impending sense of loss, a sorrowful regret for the object or thing that has been permanently damaged or eternally broken, and that will never again be whole.

But yet, at the end of the day, no matter how potent or intense these feelings might seem, they do not last forever; and sooner or later they will fade completely, and we just move on with our lives, sometimes even forgetting that the object in question ever really existed. For after all, these things are material; and can be simply replaced with a something else. The snapped chain can easily be substituted for a newer, shinier necklace; the favoured dress can be shoved to the back of wardrobe, its fvoured place now occupied by another new LBD with all the trimmings; the smartphone replaced with a more modern and subsequently, better version of its broken self. But one thing that can't ever, ever be replaced, one thing that you will never be able to get a second replacement or simple replica of, is the body, your body.

Your body - your beautiful, complexly structured, amazingly unique and undeniably incredible human body is the only one you that you will ever, ever have, and, if broken or destroyed, will never, ever be able to be replaced.

And this is so worth bearing in mind, in eating disorder recovery. Eating disorders can essentially destroy the body, or cause irreparable or permanent damage to it.

The eating disorder can have an impact on nearly every single part of the body: sadly, an eating disorder takes no prisoners. The heart, the liver, the kidneys. The skin and the stomach and the intestines. The brain. The endocrine glands and the reproductive system. The bones. And in severe cases, when the body can no longer cope with the stress and strain of such a merciless and concentrated assault on all of its faculties, it simply gives up, and fails, and dies.

I often think to myself, if I ever was granted three wishes, perhaps the last one of them, would be to have a new skeleton...for of course, because of my eating disorder, my bones are now weak and brittle, and could be broken as easily as the fragile screen of the dropped smartphone, cracked upon the hard, merciless cobbles. But you know, in a way, I was one of the lucky ones...for I now know just how close I was, to destroying myself, forever.

But I have been given a chance, one chance, to improve my bone health and help strengthen my bones; and help my body to repair itself, and heal.

And now I am trying to move towards a more appreciative and positive approach towards my own body. I'm not going to lie, it is very hard. But I am determined to work on this and by doing so, I hope to inspire others to do just the same as me: to learn to not only accept, but to appreciate and respect for the body, too. Your body will do everything in its power to keep you alive, but it is no inanimate robot which is to be used and abused as the owner sees fit. It deserves the attention and care that you would bestow upon your most valuable of possessions: if not more.

I am a firm believer in that appreciation of ones' own body is no way NEAR connected to vanity and it makes me quite annoyed when I have heard people in the past say things like that. Vanity is an entirely different thing altogether and people should never be criticised for loving their bodies and being happy with the way they look. Personally I really admire people who have the confidence to do so and really look up to them. 

And so over the next few days (eventually!! ;) ) I aim to share with you a few more lists (YES! MORE lists!! ;) ) of...

The things that my body has done for me and does for me, which I am so, so grateful for.

The things that I like about my natural body (when I say "natural body" I am referring to my body in its "recovered state" ie. after gaining weight).

And what I am doing, and plan to do in the future, in order to care for my body and repay it for everything it has done for me.

I would love if you could join in and do these challenges yourself when I do them as I think they are so so helpful and an ideal way to start this process of appreciating and caring for your body. <3 xxx