Day 4: Your Dream Job!!

Hmmm....a hard one to answer..but here goes... ;)

I think my dream job would really be a sort of combination of things:as in, I would have one main job, and then I also do several other things at the same time.

And the main one, I think, would have to be a worker at a National Park, a Nature Reserve, or a Wildlife Park. As you all know I am a bit of a nature fanatic to say the least ;) and I couldn't be happier than when I am outside in the fresh air, surrounded by green leafiness or pink heatheriness, the wind in my hair and the call of birdsong all around me. And to be able to work in a place dedicated to the welfare and nurturing of flora and fauna...well, what can I say, it would be a dream come true for me!!

Working in a national park like the Peak District really would be the dream job for me :)

But if a dream job really was a dream job in all aspects (as in, one gets to choose their own hours, days, etc.) then I would definitely have a few days off in which I would be able to spend doing various other different things. And I would more than likely have my own little bakery business where I would create, bake and sell my own edible delights!!

I also think that I would spend an hour or so of each day writing Morokia and also, doing active research for it (ie. visiting castles and old ruins, deciphering ancient medieval manuscripts, visiting exhibitions such as the Canterbury Tales in order to determine what the medieval lifestyle was really like!:)

Who knows, one day, I might realise some of these far-fetched dreams of mine? I like to believe that anything truly is possible, if you believe. Believe you will recover, and you will. Believe that you will stay strong, and conquer your ED, and you will!! And the same applies for al your dreams and hopes for the future. Maybe you want to be something so badly, but you don't believe that you have what it takes to become that person which you want to be. But that little critical Voice in your head needs to be silenced. Life is too short to be trapped doing something which does not bring you any sense of satisfaction or happiness. So find your passion and fuel it; realise your dream and chase it. It's never too late to change. <3 xxx

Another year, Another crossroads...but which path do I take?

Here I am again, standing at another crossroads; a crossroads at which I am faced with that inevitable, hugely overwhelming question, one which has been hanging on my mind ever since that fateful day back in November 2014 when I walked out through the Front Arch of Trinity, wintry gusts fingering their way into the hood of my coat aand drying the few remaining droplets of moisture upon my eyelashes and cheeks, so that nothing remained but the tear marks in my make up and the bitter, hard lump in my throat as I turned my face toward the sky. It felt like, a farewell. It felt like the very last time.

But...was it the last time? 

here I am now, physically, if not mentally recovered from anorexia: and I know that my time is now well and truly up. I can no longer put off this decision which has been haunting me, ever since I was signed off from Trinity on that difficult, painful day when my tears fell like rain and my heart felt like it was being cut open with a razor-sharp blade. I need to decide where my path is going to take me from here: I need to decide whether or not I will return to Trinity, to complete my English degree - and, if my time at Trinity is well and truly over, I will also need to figure out what exactly I am going to do, instead. 

There is a little Voice inside my head, telling me that yes, of course I should go back to Trinity. It would be the sensible thing to do, the most logical. And I agree, in a way. After all, I was two and a half years through that degree, before I was eventually forced to withdraw. To this day, how I managed to pull myself through two and a half years of a top-ranking university course with an eating disorder is beyond me, as I honestly cannot even hazard a guess at how I survived it. It was incredibly, enormously difficult: I remember all too well the pain, the tears, the isolation, the hunger, the fear, the anxiety; the sheer exhaustion. All I am saying is this: I think I was on borrowed time. I dont think there could ever have been a a chance of me passing third year. 

And I hated it. I hated every single moment of it. This degree which I had set my heart upon obtaining, this university for which I had spent hour upon hour pouring over notes and burying my head behind mountains of textbooks in order to gain entry into - it was nothing, nothing like what I had ever imagined it to be; what I wanted it to be. I felt like a ragdoll, dropped over from the safe harbour into the sparkling, glistening depths of the sea below - a sea full of nimble, able-bodied marine creatures which were able to stay afloat without effort or difficulty; but I, however, could feel myself drowning, slipping down under, down and down and down, into the fathomless depths below.

But are things different now...? In terms of concentration, ability to study, maturity, self-confidence; motivation levels, memory, independence..? Things that I am sure, come so naturally to other young students of my age. But not to me. 

I have changed, I have made many positive changes, and I know that if I were to return to Trinity, then that girl walking through the front Arch will not be quite the same as the Emmy who passed under that very grand gate, all those months ago, back in late 2014. She is different, but...alot still remains the same...

                              2014

                                            2015

It's true, I have changed, alot, in the space of a year. My body has changed. The way I see the world, the way I see myself. But yet, i am not recovered from my eating disorder; the Voice is far from silent, whispering instructions in my head, instructions which I am forced to use every ounce of strength within me to defy and go against. Every day, a raging battle takes place deep within me, a bbattle which no other person can see, or hear, or sense: it is just me and ED, locked in this seemingly endless battle of wills...

And I certainly do not feel like a young woman of 21 years of age. And I still don't believe in myself, that I am good enough for what I really want to do. But I know, I have to make this decision. I know I have to choose a path, and that, once I do, that there will be no turning back...

I didnt want this to change..

I dont really consider myself as that much of a reflective or philosophical sort of person, but today, as I arose with the ascending sun and pottered outside to my usual designated spot beneath the blooming bower at the back of the villa, the rocky coastal highlands to the north dominating my field of vision as I gazed towards the horizon, my mood became sombre and my thoughts began to race faster than a hawk in flight.

As I gazed out at the distant mountains, silvery grey peaks soaring majestically upwards, reaching for the blue, fathomless heavens above them, a wave of reflective sadness washed over me, leaving me feeling drained and despondent. Because I know, it is wrong, it is not right for a 21 year old girl to feel the way the way I do, about living at home, not being at college or in the realm of employment: or quite simply about life, in general.

Because the truth is, I dont want my life at home to end. My home is my safe haven, my sanctuary, my comfort zone; the nest in which my siblings and I - in that sweet, glorious summer of our lives termed as childhood - were raised and nurtured and gently allowed to grow.

Everything about my home to me is comforting, lovingly familiar, safe, warm, and unchanging.
Sitting around the fire on a cold winter's night, flames hungrily licking the logs and kindling placed in the hearth, while others leap upwards against the sooty blackness of the chimney, twirling and flickering like lithe dancers garbed in silks of dazzling red and and orange and gold. Cooking in the familiar, sparkly-clean, blue-tiled kitchen as evening shadows lengthen and the sun begins to gradually sink beneath the Slieve Blooms to the west; the delicate smells of herbs and fresh bread in my nostrils as I stir pots and lift hot trays out of the oven with my checked black and white oven gloves. Taking Benny out onto the bog on a sunny spring morning,the dew seeping through my shoes and the sharp nip of the dawn tickling my cheeks, while Benny's ears flap joyously like the wings of a young bird as he prances across the heathery expanses.

And I know that I wil have to leave it...but I don't want to, and am so, so deeply afraid of doing so.

For when I get back from mallorca, I will need to make a decision about whether or not I am going to return to Trinity, and, if I am not, I will then subsequently need to decide where the next twist in my road is going to take me.

I suppose I am just sad, and frustrated. As when I went into hospital I expected to come out and, as well as being fully recovered from my eating disorder (which I know, deep down, of course, that I am not), that I will also being more mature, more assertive, more confident, and ready to take on the world. But the truth is, I still feel very much like that scared little girl going into secondary school all those years ago, when ED first caught hold of my hand and beckoned me to follow him along the path which would lead to my very own ruin. I just hope that this month, I will be able to make the right choices - choices which will enable me to make some positive and generative changes in my life, and enable me to become independent. I want to be able to have my own income and start earning money, as the fact that financially I am completely dependent on Daddy only serves to fuel my sense of self-hatred and guilt. I want to pay them back for everything they have done for me, for giving me all the love a parent could ever bestow upon their child, and more - I want to make them proud. But at the same time I am so, so afraid of leaving the world of my home, of leaving the life that I love. And of course, I suppose it is made worse y the fact that I dont even know where I am going to go, what exactly am I going to do. Change can be as scary as the deepest and most darkest of winter nights, and certainly just as full of uncertainty.

I didn't want my life here to change...

Day 20: Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

10 years time...I will be thirty-one!! The very thought of that makes me feel very old!! And this is a question that does run through my mind, every now and again. Where will I be in the future? Where am I going? What does life have in store for me? What life am I going to forge for myself?

A dear friend once told me, that anything really is possible, if you believe. And this I have adopted as a little life philosophy, in a way. If you believe you will recover, you will. If you believe you can live the life you love and make all of your dreams come true...you can, and you will!! Nothing is impossible!!

And so today, here is a wee list of what I would like my life to be like, in 10 years time...

• First and foremost, of course...I want to be completely and totally recovered from my eating disorder. I want my anorexia to be nothing but a memory to me, the memory of which I will use to spread awareness and help educate others about the signs, symptoms, effects and consequences of eating disorders. 
• Of course, by that time, I would love to think that I would be employed...as a primary school teacher. The career path which I had always looked towards with longing, but had convinced myself that i was not good enough for. But now I see the error of my ways. I know that if I am prepared to put myself out there, study hard, and push myself out of my comfort zone, I have everything it takes to be a great teacher. I am kind, caring, patient and adore kids. All I need is a bit more self-confidence, something which I have been trying to build upon every day. And, of course, I know that being a primary school teacher with an eating disorder is NOT going to be an option for me. Looking back now I can see the devastating toll my eating disorder took on me in terms of my intellectual abilities. My memory, my concentration, my ability to study were all adversely effected. I know that I will only ever be able to follow my dream if I am fully, not partially, recovered.
• Volunteering is something which I am planning to start doing this summer (in fact it was only today when I actually marched myself down to the office in Portlaoise to talk to the lady in charge of Laois Volunteering and get the necssary forms from her!!! ) and is something which I intend to keep up for many years yet to come. I would like to think that perhaps in around ten years time I will be able to perhaps volunteer abroad too.
• In ten years time, I fully intend to be well enough to go for long hikes in the walking hot spots of the world. Snowdonia, Scotland, the Lake and Peak Districts, the Kerry Way and the Alps, maybe even the mountains of Canada..? ;) And I sincerely hope that in 10 years time I will most certainly have ticked off a good few places on my Destination list !!! ;) 
• I also hope that in 10 years time I will have further perfected my baking skills, of course!! Yet another list I have (which I MUST share with you sometime actually!!) is my to-bake list haha, which is basically a never-ending, never-to-completed piece of literature!!! :p
• I often think to myself...in 10 years time...what sort of person will I be? Well, I hope that in 10 years time, I will have completely detached my own identity from my eating disorder, and that I will have the courage to be...just me. Simply me, Emmy Snelgrove, not Emmy with an eating disorder, not Emmy who is trying to be perfect, or trying to change herself, or trying to be someone else. Just...Me. 

Happy baking away in the kitchen at the weekend!! ;) xxx