My Little Blue Swing...

It was my favourite place, as a child. The Garden of my childhood.

It became my own little Garden of Eden, of sorts: but also, my Secret Garden; or a place which wasn't really a garden at all.It was a rainforest, a desert; a tropical island, a fantasy kingdom. A wilderness that ranged as far as the eye could see. A kingdom of grass and trees and flowers the colours of the rainbow; of which I was its only queen.

And at its very heart was a little blue swing with green pulley ropes and a narrow wooden seat.

The little blue swing as it is today, minus its seat, sadly. 😔

Often of a fine evening, when the sun began to sink behind the dusky forms of the rosy-tinged mountains, I would slip out to my garden and skim across the dewy grass. I would clamber into that seat and grip the soft rope between my fingers, my toes arched like a ballerina. I felt like a golden-feathered eagle, ready to lift my wings and take off from the ground.

Then I would inch my way back a little on my toes, my heart beating in my chest like a coursing rabbit's, and then I would lift my feet and let myself go.

The rushing air slapped at my face; my hair lifted from my skull to stream behind me like a rippling golden banner.

Benny in his summer garden

Yesterday while I was outside, pegging the washing out on the line, I glanced across at my old blue swing, now rusty and covered with cobwebs and fine green moss.

I remembered how it felt going up - the sheer elation; the longing to not come back down to the ground. And then, having reached the point at which I knew I was going to fall back down, a strange, sharp sense of some indescribable fear.

 And so I suppose that the dips in my motivation to recover are like the rise and fall of the swing.

The strength, the vivacity I feel when my motivation has shot upwards like an arrow loosed from a bow; and then, the counter feelings; ones of fear and doubt and sadness; ones which swiftly move to establish themselves as soon as I begin my descent.



I get a little lift..when eating something I really enjoy; getting a hug from my mam, a comment from a reader, talking with a friend who understands..

but when I am alone, or full, or looking at my body in the mirror...I come crashing down to earth with a cry...

How do I keep it up?

How do I allow that motivation to climb up and up; and, once it has got to the top - to stay there, essentially?



But then I came to realise today, standing outside, my tired eyes fixed upon my little blue swing.

Going up, and coming back down is inevitable.

It's an unavoidable part of recovery.

Recovery is not like a swing that never comes back down. It's more like a dipping, swinging rollercoaster: you go up, you cry out with thejoy, the delight, the exhileration at being on top of the world. But then you see you are going to come back down again, and your heart swells with both fear and apprehension.

But it need not fill you with fear, as you can and will survive them..

So rather than seeking to achieve that impossible feat; of striving to avoid and completely  inhibit those dips and falls in motivation...

I must learn to be brave and steadfast, and face them, head on.

And I now have identified precisely the things that will help me see these times through.

• Talking to a friend who understands and will not judge me.
• Reading through the past comments of my readers upon my blog.
• Playing with Daisy and stroking Benny's velvet like head, or sitting on the sofa with the warm fuzzy ball which is Felix upon my lap.
• Talking to Mam; or Gran, or my sister.
• Reading through my reasons to recover and reminding myself again and again of the importance of fighting on.💛

And I know, that if I keep on fighting, keep on persevering, keep on being as strong and as brave as I can every single hour of every single day - that some day I will reach a place where I do feel on top of the world. Recovery is the highest place that I could ever hope to go. Getting there is like reaching the very top of the shining peak of Mount Everest; beautiful and glowing with pearl white snow. It is a place where there will be more highs than lows, It is a place where I will experience peace within myself; high above the choking grey clouds of loneliness and depression and self-hatred. That's recovery. It is there and only there where I will be able to again experience those sensations I had felt when swinging upon my little blue swing. The exquisite, palpable, authentic sense of joy: the kind that stems from that being in that state of true and beautiful freedom. 💜 xxx

I could just let this slip through my fingers...I could just let my life be stolen away from me..

The morning rain fell hard and without pity, hammering itself relentlessly upon the glass roof of the conservatory, beating down upon the bare branches of the blossom tree in a garden still held within winter's tightly clenched fist. Every blade of grass became decked in icy moisture; every leaf of every tree a silvery, dew-spotted shroud. Shivering songbirds huddled together upon those wet twigs, endeavouring in vain to derive heat from each other's saturated bodies, their tiny heads gazing forlornly up a sky heavy with clouds as dark and as unfeeling as hard grey stone, as if sending out a silent, hopeless prayer for that rain to cease to fall.

The faintest glimmer of brightness, shining dully through the clouds towards the western horizon. At first, that brightness appears as little more than a faint milky glow, but then it spreads and grows, becoming stronger and stronger, illuminating the whole of the sky so that the grey is replaced by pure azure blue. The clouds to shrink and retreat, gathering themselves up like the trailing skirts of fleeing dancer.

Slipping on my jacket and warm woollen gloves, I clipped the lead onto Benny's supple leather collar, sensing the transition in that tumultuous, impossibly beautiful, regal sky.

We wander far across the exposed expanses of windswept heathland; a landscape fully exposed to the wrath of that bone-chilling, icily cold wintry wind which hurtles itself down from the distant slopes of the purpley-tinged mountains standing solemnly on guard to the northerly horizon. And then finally, we come to the river. In carefree delight, Benny launches himself into the ice cold water, his little pink tongue lolling, the strands of curly hair at his chest and stomach becoming sodden with moisture as he waded deeper and deeper into the rushing, swirling waters.

Watching him, I could not help but smile, even though my eyes were filled with unshed tears, because seeing him there, contently splashing about without a single care in the world, made me realise how much I loved him; how precious he was to me.And how easy it would be for me to lose him forever: one single little slip, and he could be borne away, away from me by the hostile, inhumanely cruel current; a current which would take no heed of my desperate, agonised shouts to bring him back.

That single one fleeting moment made me cry out in alarm, gripped as I was by a sudden and unstoppable surge of terrified anxiety. I sprang to the riverbank and shouted his name. He turned and swam back towards the shore, soft brown eyes gazing into my own. As he emerged from the water, I enveloped him in my arms and held him tightly to my chest, oblivious to the muddy, cold water that seeped into my clothes from his sodden fur.

Of course, my fear then was more or less illogical. It was very, very unlikely that Benny, being the strong swimmer that he was, was in any kind of danger. But the moment stuck with me, when we finally got home and I was sitting by the fire with my laptop, gathering my thoughts together for a little blog post in which I could inscribe into words the realisation of truth that struck me today.

Because here now is the truth, the real, ice cold, undeniable and inevitable truth.

Life is precious and in a way, so, so fragile. It could so easily be taken away. And once we have lost it, let it slip through our fingers, let it go, just that once...well then, there is no going back. The rushing tide which took it away, will not simply bring it back to us when we realise our fatal mistake.

And yes, it would be so, so easy, for me, to just let life slip away from me, slip through my fingers like tiny grains of sand, grains which I will never be able to pick up again, grains which I will never again be able to retrieve.

I have wasted nearly half of my life, imprisoned and enslaved by ed.

Is it not time that I, that we, break ourselves free...

And not let ED steal away, one single piece more of this precious, transitory thing that we call life.

The maze and the mountain.

For me, one of the most difficult obstacles in my struggles against the Voice of my Eating Disorder has always been my lack of motivation to recover, on account that, aside from the love I bear for those in my life who are closest to me, that I always felt as if I had nothing to recover for.

This type of thinking got significantly worse when I started at Trinity. When I was at school, my eating disorder was kept in a state of semi-containment: i had a goal, a specific aim, in my head the whole time, which kept me off, to some extent, that bloodstained path of self-destruction upon which I suddenly found myself stumbling upon, that day when I left my home in September 2012. the day when I was all set to embark upon a new chapter in my life, away from the insular, warm, safe world of my home.

I have to eat as little as possible, now. Because being skinny is the only one thing, that I have left.
I am not smart, intelligent, beautiful, funny, athletic, studious, talented in any kind of way...

And now, you have lost that one thing that you did have...
you're no longer the grade a student...everyone here is a hundred times better than you. 

being thin, being the skinny one...that's all that I have left.

This was the kind of thing...that I told myself every day. And which I fully believed, heart and soul...which I recognised and acknowledged as the ultimate truth.

And so the two years dragged on, two difficult and painful years full of panic, anxiety, tears and relentless restriction. Because by this time it came so naturally to me; and not once did I stop to consider just what the consequences of my actions could be; stop, to contemplate for one instant, just how much damage I was wrecking upon my own body. And I no longer had that goal, that drive to propel me onwards. I looked no further than the present day, and perhaps, the day following that. And for one single, abominable purpose. my mind was wholly bent, on how, each day, I was would go about eating as little as possible; and how I would conceal my actions from the eyes of the world, and my loved ones. It fills me with shame to write this, but I know that it is the truth; that, for me, was my reality, every hour of every day. Whereas other girls my age in Trinity spent their time planning their future career prospects, perhaps, or where they would choose to go for their getogether on Saturday night... every thought, every priority, every motivation that ever really occured to me...it wasn't my own, it was Ed's. I didn't think about my future; as far as I was concerned, there was nothing really there, anyway. I didn't see where I was going. I didn't realise where this path of self-destruction really led.

Now, things are different. But yet, in a way, some things remain the same.

It's true to say that the realisation of just how much damage I actually caused my body...

What remains unchanged, though, is the fact that I still don't really know where I am going; I still dont really know what I am recovering for...

Because I still see myself, as a lost cause. I feel like a little scrubby dandelion weed, growing precariously upon the steep, barren slope of  some beautiful yet cruelly hostile mountain. The dandelion struggles desperately to grow; but the elements are too harsh, the ground too hard, for it to grow. Further away from the slope grow the other beautiful mountain flowers: tall red poppies and glorious purple foxgloves, regal and exquisite, dainty bluebells. They are strong and successful and flourishing. But I am not, and never will be, one of them.

                                          At times, it feels like as if my life has become as lonely and as heavy as a mountain...

Perhaps, in another time and another place, I would have blossomed; but this is the modern world, and it breaks my heart to say it, but...I will never be like the others. I'm 21 now, and have been for several months, but to be honest, you would not know, if you were to attach a camera to me, and monitor what I do and how I conduct myself on a daily basis.

I still need mam, to look out for me. If it was not for her, i don't even think I would really be here, right now. She was, and still is, to a great extent, the backbone to my recovery... without her, I know it would have crumbled long ago.
I still need mam to sit with me at dinner, because I know that without her I wouldn't have enough and that i would stop eating before I was full. And though I don't really think she is aware of it,in that I haven't really told her...but it is for her and through her that I manage to beat off the Voice and win my little victories with my meal plan. When I had my scone last Sunday, for example...I don't think I would have managed it, if it wasn't for Mam being there. And at that moment I was so, so torn...I wanted to have that scone, but even more than that, I wanted her to get it for me - I didn't want to have to be the one to perform that one simple thing...that simple thing, as small and as insignificant as a speck of dust on a windswept plateau...but yet, at the same time, as huge and as vast and as overwhelming, as the massive gulf that surrounds it on all sides.

Why am I so dependent on others...
Why am I so immature...
What am I really recovering for? Will I ever be able to find my way, in life? or will I just get lost along the way?

Because that's how I feel, at the moment. Just so lost...lost in a never-ending, disorientating maze. A maze which I see others passing through, from time to time. But they, unlike me, manage to find their way out. Some might struggle and some might falter, but in the end, they succeed. But I just stumble on, and on, and on, trying desperately to follow them out...not wanting to be, the little girl who got left behind.

All I know is...I have to keep searching, trying, and struggling up this long and lonely mountain. For my recovery journey is proving very long, and lonely, and hard. But I know I have to keep going. I know that I have to try.

This time, I won't forget...

All those months ago, way back in March, on that day when I was finally allowed to leave that secluded, detached, imprisoning walls of the eating disorder ward...I felt a palpable, unfamailar sensation pulsating through every vein in my body; an adrenaline, sweet even in the fury of its rush; beautiful, even in its striking unfamiliarity: it was nothin, nothing like I had ever experienced before. I felt as if...as if I had overcome the battle. A Battle which had been so long, so hard, so excruciatingly painful; a battle through which I had shed countless tears; which had cost me, and my loved ones, untellable amounts of hurt and heartache and suffering; blow upon blow falling upon us like the pitiless waves of a maddened stormy sea, crashing against the trembling creatures of the rockpools, tearing and destroying everything in their wake.

I have overcome the Battle, I had thought. I felt like a bell: my whole body was ringing, vibrating, resonating with an unquenchable, indescribable, irresistable, overwhelming sense of pure, vibrant, joy.

But then the days passed and the winds changed...

And I allowed myself to forget....

forget everything which I had overcome, everything which I had been fighting for. Everything which ED had taken from me, everything that it could still take from me...if I did not continue to fight it, fight it with every single bone in my body.

I allowed myself to forget...and then, before I knew it, ED had jumped in, having taken its opportunity when I was at my most vulnerable, and suddenly, my joy was shattered. That feeling of pure happiness seemed as distant and as unreachable as the moon. It seemed as if I had never achieved anything, had overcome, anything. It was as if nothing had ever changed.

But now I realise that I was wrong...and that, no matter how many times I fall down, I can pick myself up again, and carry on with my head held high.

For a stumble in the road does not mark the end of the journey. 

And though there were storm clouds blocking out my horizon,

The winds of change are blowing again, blowing away those clouds.

And in their place I can clearly see, my own glowing, twinkly little stars. :) xxx

And so today I thought I would write this little post, to remind myself of the things that I once forgot, which ED made me forget.

But not this time, Ed.

This Time, I will not Forget. <3 xxx

• That this is my body...my body, the only one that I have and will ever have. But for the past nine years, I have relentlessly abused and mistreated the most valuable and priceless of all of my possessions;  depriving it of its most basic and most fundamental of its needs, mercilessly pushing it to the very brink of exhaustion. And never once did it occur to me to stop and contemplate just how much damage I was causing my body...

Don't forget...Your body is irreplaceable. It will do everything in its power to take care of you, to protect you and keep you safe, functioning, alive. But like all animate things, there is only so much that the human body can take.

I won't forget this time...that every day I spend restricting, every day I spend overexercising, every day which I spend, giving in to Ed, ignoring my body's signals and forcing myself to go hungry...that I am just wasting yet another day of my life, sacrificing it to the cruel voice of Ed. Causing my body even more damage...damage which my body, having been already endured so much abuse for so many, many years, might well not be able to repair, this time...

I won't forget...that if I do not make that change, maintain that change, and learn to take proper care of my body, then there might come a time when it is too late. I will hit rock bottom and then I will realise; realise that every minute of every hour of every day, I should have given recovery all that I had...but then, it will be too late.

So now is the time to stop allowing myself to forget...what truly matters. To stop putting recovery aside; to stop complying with the demands and dictations of theVoice. To never, ever forget the importance of caring for my body, right here, right now. I cannot afford to waste a single day more.

• Thistime, I will not forget...

 That yes, I do have serious osteoporosis. Not just for a day, a week or maybe even a year: no, I have it for life. And that if I do not make that change now, my osteoporosis will only deteriorate ever further: my already weak, brittle, delicate bones will suffer enormously, as a result. I don't like to think of what that will mean for me. All I know is, that I cannot forget that this might well be my final chance. We stop taking calcium into our bones when we reach our thirties, so I have been told. And so, the next few years will be, for me, pivotal in striving to improve my bones. Which is exactly why I must never allow myself forget the importance of maintaining my recovery, and of nourishing my body and giving by bones the best possible chance of strengthening themselves while they still can.

• I won't forget, that now I have the best possible chance of helping my metabolism to recover, if I stay strong and continue to eat well and frequently thoughout the day.

• I won't what I have put my loved ones through. I won't ever forget their unconditional, unflatering love for me, despite all the pain and the sorrow and the heartache. I won't allow myself to forget just how much they have done for me...and how much pride, and joy, it would bbring them to see me happy and healthy.

• I won't forget how fleeting, how valaule, how precious life really is. I won't forget that this is my nly ever chance at life...that tomorrow ould be my last. And that if I chose to remain with Ed, then There is nothing left for me in that place, but pain and and depression unhappiness. I must leave that place behind, walk towards that beautiful yet unknown horizon. <3 xxx

ED watch out!!! :D the Ganache Elf is back and she has a Plan of Action... :) xxx

Polka dots, Morokia, volunteering...and that faithful, chocolate-splattered Kenwood Mixer of legend... ;)

Yes, these are just SOME of the tools I have at my disposal...in my quest to overcome my relapse and forever silence ED...

My plan of action against ED. :D

1.To make a concise meal plan and stick to it every day, NO exceptions.

Designate a particular time of the week (for me I think it will be on one of my hot choc breaks at the weekend! ;) ) to plan out my meals and snacks (I have ANOTHER new noteook for this purpose, this one has polka dots on it...my little catty one has gone walkies somewhere in my room so I had to get another one!! :o ). Let  Mam know what I would like her to get for me when she goes grocery shopping (I used to go with her but I have college friday mornings now :'( ), vary what I eat so I don't get bored of anything and lured into just having "safe" foods.

And of course, one of the most essential components of my meal plan = LOTS of hot choc!!! ;)

2. Make my own list of rules...which are essentially are reversal of the ED ones :)
I will tell you more about this in a separate post as it is a very good and helpful technique I think, for going against the ED voice and destroying the "rules£ that it makes for us, in their various forms.

3. Bake my own snacks so that I will be more motivated to get back into the routine of snacking regularly.
Yesssssss, what better excuse to stick to my meal plan and eat my snacks?? Because by doing so, I will give myself the perfect reason to bake and mess around with my beloved Kenwood Mixer to my heart's content. In a nutshell: eating my snacks and keeping to meal plan = more baking and I will of course post all recipes/photos on here, rest assured.. ;)

4. Make sure I make time for my hobbies and interests and for spending time with people who make me feel happy and loved. <3
I'm going to start volunteering here at home (an hour a week, visiting an elderly person in Mountmellick to keep them company and give them someone to talk to); keeping up my blogging and maybe Morokia over Christmas if I have time; make time for baking, walking Benny, knitting, and meeting a friend for a chat over hot choc - just some of the things I am going to do in order to keep me busy and occupied and distracted from the ED voice.

5. Talk back to the ED voice when it tries to sway me off track again.

Talking back to the Voice: an example dialogue...

ED. No, you don't need your snack...get out the packet of biscuits, take them out of the packet...but then just wrap them in a tissue when no one is looking, and throw them away...then they will be none the wiser...

And the past few weeks, it's true; I went along with what that Voice was telling me, agreeing with what it said, not putting up any fight. Deceiving my loved ones and throwing away food; not eating, even though my stomach felt empty and all I could think about, focus on was what i wanted so badly to eat...but the Voice said, no, you cannot; you shall not, you will not.

But now, I am determined to talk back to that voice: take up a defiant stance. And in that moment of resistance I know I will find my strength.

And so, let's write out the new dialogue.

ED: You CANNOT eat your snack.

Emmy: No.
I want to have my snack.
Why should you get to decide what I can and cannot eat? What right do you have to dictate to me how I nourish my own body?

                                         yes, I CAN!!!! :D

If I don't eat that snack...

I will just contribute to the weakening of my bones...
I will deprive my body of the vital energy it needs...
And ultimately, it will mean that I am just giving into,..the Voice of Ed...
I will just be costing mam and dad more money, more worry, more heartache.
I will just be wasting yet more and more of my life away, sacrificing each and every day to ED.

So I am going to adopt this approach, when ED tries to persuade me to not stick to my meal plan, to not finish a meal/snack, or to engage in any other ED type behaviours. I think it might help me as well to make little memos and stick them at random in places where I can always see them (ie the top of my laptop screen, my food diary, etc. just random stuff which will help keep me motivated...more on this to follow!!! ;)

6. Set myself daily and weekly goals.
And I will tell you more about this in a later post too. But the main idea of this is to set yourself individual little challenges to complete every day, so that I will be making progress week by week at a rate which is very doable and not too overwhelming. I might try sharing my goals on here as I think that will really help motivate me to accomplish them!! And if you have any suggestions let me know, thank you so so much <3 ;)

7. get as much support and help as I can.
I know I have all my loved ones, friends and readers behind me; and that I should never feel afraid or ashamed to reach out to them when things get tough.

8. Charter my progress and share my experience through my blog.
Blogging has always helped me so, so much with recovery...and in a way, I suppose, when I stopped blogging just before the relapse, that didnt really help me at all; but back then, I was in a bad place and felt too ashamed to write about my struggle. But now I am thinking about things in a different way and, though I am finding it very, very hard to let go of the anger and shame at myself...I'm trying, to move on and find peace with myself. And so I suppose you can say that the Ganache-Elf is back on the blogging scene...and her recovery journey goes on from here. :)

The quest for Morokia! :) Will you fight alongside me? :)

Ok!! Before there are any misunderstandings about this unusual blog post title - no, I am not going off to join the army or the navy; and neither am I planning on embarking upon some fabulous quest for a place that perhaps is bordering Morocco, since the two of them sound vageuly the same; or some other far-flung place that noone really knows about. No, no no! bear with me while I explain: I know my titles can be a little cryptic sometimes. Perhaps there's a bit of an English student left in me, after all.

No, this month (weather depending - if its a really hot and sunny and tropical August (which is highly unlikely, living here in the beautiful Emerald Isle...but hey, you never know!;) ) I do intend on embarking upon a mission of sorts, though. I want to return...to Morokia. As in, I want to start writing again: I want to tell my story, the story of Morokia. I want to narrate this moving, grippingly compelling, complex, engagingly emotional story and make it my own: I want to make it the epic fantasy trilogy  which I intended it to be; which I know it has the capacity to be.

But, the thing is, I know, that I won't ever be able to return to Morokia, in the company of Ed.

Because with Ed, I will never be able to concentrate and focus on what I am writing, give Morokia the necessary care and attention to detail that it deserves. I won't be able to dedicate the time and effort needed to compose a fantasy epic like Morokia. I literally won't be able to sit down for the length of time necessary to write a sufficient quantity of work. why? Because, as I know all too well, after I have been sitting down for any given length of time - yes, and even now, this does happen, frequently; I'm not going to pretend that it doesn't - this little Voice slyly creeps into my head and begins to whisper harshly to me, over and over and over, becoming more insistent with every passing minute. You need to get up. You need to get up. You have sat for too long, You need to be doing something active. Go outside and do a few paces up and down the garden, then you can come back in again. Then and only then. Stand up now and do some squats. Go walk up the stairs and get that biro you left up there this morning, I know you don't really need it, but anyway, you need to move. Move. Move. MOVE!! 

Just a sample dialogue, of the many, many conversations between me and ED.

And so I want you to all fight beside me, against the Voice, the Voice of ED. Fight against the Voice, which has caused us so, so much heartache and suffering and pain. Fight against this Voice which demands that we harm and hurt ourselves, our own bodies, the people that we love and who love us. Fight against the Voice which has tried to take so much away from us.

The Voice in my Head stole so much from me...

And yes, sadly, Morokia was one of those things. For years I have literally been unable to write Morokia: I have physically not been capable of sitting down in front of a computer screen and typing my story. for numerous reasons, ranging from not being able to concentrate, not being able to formulate the sentences in my head; not being able to sit down for any length of time without feeling extreme anxiety over the fact that in sitting there, trying to write, I could easily be spending that time doing exercise, instead. Sitting down, for long or even short periods of time, was a big problem for me; I had to always be constantly on the move; and this was one of my biggest obstacles to getting any of Morokia written. And then there was the exhaustion and fatigue. Often in the past when I attempted to sit and write, I would end up just sitting there, fingers immobile upon the keyboard, as I felt so utterly drained of energy that I was unabble to write anything. Othertimes, my starving body was just so hungry, that to sit down with a blank page in front of me, would evoke nothing for me but frustration and feelings of self-hatred, as all I could think about - no word of a lie - was food, food, and food. What I should have eaten earlier that day, what I would like to eat that moment, but of course, was not going to allow myself to have; what I might be made to have for dinner later on, and how difficult that was going to be. No matter how hard I tried to turn my thoughts onto what I wanted to write, it wouldn't be long before images and thoughts of food would bubble up again, suppressing everything else. So almost 100 percent of the time, I would just give up writing anything, and go off to do something "active" instead, as that was the only thing I could really focus on.

But things ARE different now. Alot has changed, since the last time I tried to write Morokia. And I never want to deprive my body of the nourishment it deserves ever again; and I am going to fight this Voice, this demon in my head, with every bit of strength and courage that I have. And I will return to Morokia, again, and this time, ED will not be able to stop me.

The heroes and heroines of Morokia are fighting their battle against the evil which threatens to destroy them...And I am going to join them, in a battle of my own ...and I want you to join us to. Fight against the evil, cruel, malignant Voice which threatens to hurt and destroy us, to take away everything which we hold dear. Take courage and stay strong!! <3 xxx

A Girl made of Glass.. :'(

Yesterday something happened to me which I thought I would share with you today. That something, I'm not going to lie, really did frighten me, alot.And not only that, it once again felt as if reality had just leaped across my path and hit me right in the face.

You see for a normal person, what unfolded yesterday would probably not have been of any major significance whatsoever. To many it would have been just something that, once it has happened, will be brushed over and forgotten about in a matter of hours. But for me, the memory of what occured in my garden yesterday is still as sharp and as fresh as a rose thorn pushed into the tip of a finger. Because I remember exactly the taste of the fear I had felt in that moment...The stinging in my eyes as I struggled to hold back the tears. It was just an ordinary day. Mam had made me hot chocolate and had gone off to work, and,  as was often my custom on a sunny day, I had pottered outside with mug and laptop in my arms. And then, suddenly and horribly, my smooth pace was cut short my right foot smashed into the large watering can which had been placed at the edge of the concrete. Being full to the brim with water, the big, green-coloured can hardly moved at all with the impact - but I certainly did. Lurching forward, caught off balance, I flung out my arms desperately, and suddenly my fingers came into contact with the smooth wood of the patio table that, having remained dormant and unused in the garage all winter, had only just been positioned there by Daddy last weekend.

But as I managed to catch myself, I placed too much pressure on my right knee and suddenly felt a sharp pain. I sat down hard in the little chair by the tale and burst into tears - and no, not because of the aching sensations in my kneecap. It was because I realised just how close I had come to falling, falling onto the pitiless, hard concrete of the patio. There was every possibility that I could have broken a bone.

I might as well be made of glass. If I fall, I shatter.

My knee was a bit better today, though it is still very sore and I am limping ever so slightly. But on this occasion, I was lucky; I got off lightly, with a twisted knee, by the looks of things. But on the other side of the coin, it makes me bitterly despondant to contemplate how just by landing at a slightly awkward sort of poisition on my right leg, I have ended up injuring myself, again. Again, doing something which normal people could probably do without any effort at all. But for me, it's different. Running, jumping, skipping, hopping...all of them, I know at my present state, I just can't risk doing, because of the weak, fragile structure of my skeleton.

What happened to me yesterday serves to as just yet another sad reminder to me of just how weak my body is...because of my eating disorder.

I know that all I can do now is give recovery all that I possibly have. I just hope with all my heart that if I keep on fighting and trying my best, I will be able to improve my bones, make them as strong as they could possibly be, what with the brand of osteoporosis branded upon them for the rest of my life.

Please, please, please. I know I have probably said this many times, but please - if you can't seem to find any motivation or reason to fight your eating disorder, think of the price you will pay, in the future. Think of the toll it is taking upon your very own body. And when you hear the word future, you might be inclined to think of, well, ages away, maybe...when you might consider yourself as "old". Don't. I learned the price at a much, much younger age than that. So fight back now and MAKE THAT CHANGE before it is too late! <3 xxx

Me and my special furry friends at Christmas, not long before I went into hospital. <3 xxx

The Equation.

Sitting in one of the group sessions at the clinic yesterday, I felt a sort of contemplative sadness begin to slowly envelope me as I stared at the piece of paper that I held in my hands. Beneath the typed script which outlined several guidelines of advice which at this stage I had heard or read on numerous times before in that very same room, was  a blank space, which seemed to beckon to me then, compelling me to write the jumbled flurry of words that, suddenly and without warning, were skimming over my mind like pebbles flung across the surface of a still pond, creating perfect circular ripples as they did so. And just like those pebbles, so too did each one of those words send gentle little ripples through my head, echoing and reverberating.

And suddenly my hand was no longer empty, and I found myself writing, organising the scattered jumble of words in my head into an equation. An equation that certainly rings true for me, and I am sure, that it has, for many others out there who have suffered or who are suffering with an eating disorder.

Anorexia = ...

Loneliness and isolation.
Depression.
Ruined bones.
Messed up hormones.
Anxiety.
Misery and wretchedness.
Liver and heart problems.
Dry skin.
Obsession.
Exhaustion and fatigue.
Inability to grow up.
Poor concentration.
Memory loss.
Compulsive, abnormal behaviors.
Hurting loved ones and causing them untellable pain.
Lying and deceit.
Constant preoccupation with food.
Lack of interest in anything.
Loss of contact with friends.
Suicidal thoughts.
Self-harm.
Physical and psychological damage, some of which can't be reversed.
Regrets and missed opportunities.
Death.

So please, if you are ever struggling... if you ever let yourself think that the Voice is just too strong and that you can't, you just can't fight it any longer...if you ever find yourself slipping and following the commands and dictations of that Voice in your Heart instead of going with your heart, your gut instinct, or the advice of your family and friends and those who love and care about you... just take a moment to breathe and think about the equation. What did ED ever bring you? Happiness? Popularity? A dream body? Friends? Control? Everything and anything you ever wanted in this life?

No. Anorexia brings nothing of these things, to you, to me, to anyone; and it never will. And I am just one of those people who believed, back then, that it would; and thus allowed myself to succumb to its alluring, seductive embrace. An embrace that traps, suffocates,kills. Please don't ever forget what an eating disorder really stands for. Many things change in this world that we live in, but I believe that the truth of the equation that I wrote on my notes in the small, dark little room yesterday will always remain the same.

Day 14: Think about yourself 1 year ago...how have you changed?

Hi everyone :) Day 14 of my recovery challnege!! Haha I know I am so behind in this, I do apologise!! Today, I am going to focus on the precise changes in my behavior and attitudes revolving around eating and recovery since early last year.

Just a quick note: I highly recommend doing your own version of a chart like this. Progress in recovery, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, should always be acknowledged. It is another step, another little victory over your eating disorder. Writing down a list of how you have changed in terms of recovery (don't feel as if you have to limit yourself to how you have changed since last year, though - it can be since last week, last month or two or eight years ago; whichever you feel is the most appropriate) is something which I personally find really helpful and motivational, as it allows you to appreciate just how much you have changed, how much you have overcome - and simultaneously, how much you CAN change and overcome.

You have proved to yourself that you can be strong, as I did. Believe me, I, for example, never, ever, ever believed that I would be able to go through a day without exercising for two hours plus...but I did overcome that fear, that compulsion. I fought that Voice in my head, and no, I didn't grow two heads or develop hives all over my skin! It didn't kill me, it made me stronger. And if I can do it, there is absolutely NO reason that you can't, too. When the urge comes, and you panic, and tell yourself that no, you can't do it: just stop. Stop, take a few long, ddeep breaths, and think. Think...what is the worsrt thing that can happen, if I choose NOT to follow my ED? Will complying to its demands make me stronger, or IT stronger?  Do I really want to live a life like this...a life controlled and dictated by a Voice, a Voice which is not my own?

Anyway, onto my own personal list of changes, of how much I have changed since, shall we say, early last year, when my eating disorder was at its worst.

Back then...
I would only allow myself to eat at most two full meals a day - lunch and dinner or breakfast and dinner; never all three.

But now...
I eat three regular meals each day. 

Back then...
I deprived myself of the majority of the foods I loved, and, if I did decide to perhaps "Indulge" on them on one particular day, I would not permit myself to have them the following day.

But now...
I eat all of my favourite foods on a very regular basis! For example, I can safely say I do NOT go through one single day without eating bananas, chocolate, and hot chocolate, my favourite foods EVER. ;) 

Insomnia HOT CHOC...made with real melted milk chocolate...my own heart melts at the thought! ;)

Back then...
I would only allow myself to eat lowfat or fat free products.

But now...
I allow myself to eat full fat milk, cheese, yoghurt and custard, and I enjoy them. I know the extra fat in them will only help my body to recover properly.

Back then...
I forced myself to exercise for a minimum of 2 hours each day; more if I could afford to.

But now...
I am learning to find enjoy exercise and practice it in a way which is not healthy or obsessive! And of course, I greatly reduced my physical activity as I recognise now what I was doing in the past was far from a healthy habit. This is mainly walking Benny with my family on the weekend afternoons, or taking my favourite springer for a brief 10 minute round of the field in the morning. 

Back then...
I had many different foods which I was too afraid to try, or secrelty liked but lied that I hated so that I would not be expected to eat them.

but now...
I have faced nearly all of my fear foods, some of which I now love and eat on a very regular basis. Cheese and peanut butter being prime examples!!

Back then...
I did not think I could possibly go through a day without exercising.

But now...
Even though a day without any kind of exercise causes me anxiety, I know deep down that I am strong enough to do it, as when I was an inpatient I was forced to rest and remain sedentary for days on end. I know that if I search deep down within myself, that I CAN be brave and strong against my ED anxiety. This problem of resting and not moving has always been one of my biggest issues in recovery and something I am hoping I will be abble to receive help with, as I do still struggle with this alot.

Me and Lizzy. <3 xxx

Ed always won. I always lost.

But now, I am fighting hard against the Voice in my Head. I want to reclaim the life that I loved, a life without an eating disorder.  <3 xxx

My Meal Plan Mission...Part 1

Sticking to the meal plan...one of the most important parts of the recovery process, and, arguably enough, also one of the most challenging. Because by doing so, your ED is literally screaming in your ear, trying to convince you that what you are doing is so wrong, essentially. That you are going against al your "rules" and "principles", that it made for you and which you adopted as your life philosophy, in a way. Sticking to you meal plan is something which requires immense willpower, strength and perseverance. But needless to say, it's a key ingredient in terms of eating disorder recovery; since many of those in recovery may have no clue whatsoever how much, when and what they should eat every day; and having a meal plan instantly solves that problem immediatly.

And this, for me, is most certainly something I have been struggling with ALOT recently. and its funny because at the beginning, I considered myself at being fairly good at keeping to it. I suppose that was because of the fact that back then I knew that I had to gain weight and I recognised just how imoportant it was for me that I did so. But now, things have become harder. My bmi has increased from 15 to 18 since I went into hospital, and now, at this new, healthier bmi, my ED voice tells me that I need to stop and start restricting again, as you have already gained weight Emmy, and you need to lose it again.

LIES.

I often wonder, how the world sees me....do they see a girl who is recovered? Do they see, do they feel the battle going on and on and on, inside my very own head?

About two weeks ago today, I was walking from the station towards the hospital, the thoughts rushing, rushing through my head; so much so that it almost felt like I was walking in an entirely different world, a world of my own making. Just me and Ed. Ed trying to tell me things, I trying desperately to ignore them, to not listen to them. What are you going to try and miss out on today, Emmy. - No, please, I don't want to miss out on anything. - You do, you know you do. Because if you stick to that meal plan, you know you will just gain more weight, and you know that you don't want that...

And then, I felt it; a sensation, that I knew all too well: a building ache in the heel of my left foot, barely noticeable at first, but intensifying with every step i took.

The last time I had had one of those "aches" in my foot, it had been my right foot, in the instep...and it had been like that for over three months; and for those three months I had hobbled from place to place like a cripple.

Why? well, looking back on it now, I had obviously sprained or injured my foot in some way, by seemingly doing nothing at all - I didn't fall, slip, twist my ankle or anything. But what i didn't realise at first back then, as I limped around trying to conceal my injury from everyone...was that, because my body was so undernourished, because I had overexercised for as long as I could remember - hammering up and down, up and down the hard tarmac roads for as long as I could manage, whether it be scorching hot, freezing cold, pouring with rain or perilously icy - because of all that, I had caused severe damage to my feet. And even when I did hurt myself, I still didn't allow it to rest.

And here I was again, now...a different foot, and a new injury in a slightly different place. I tried to keep walking, but I knew I was getting slower and slower. My usual brisk, quick-stepped little walk diminished to a dragging, heavy-footed limp. I very nearly sat down hard on the damp pavement and cried. So. After all of my efforts, after having been forced to put on weight, face my fear foods, and spend day after day cooped up like a prisoner behind the walls of a hospital, forbidden to walk or do any form of exercise...this was what I had. My body was still weak; and I had done it again -  my foot was injured, by doing absolutely nothing at all. Everything seemed so, so hopeless and pointless. Slowly the tears I had been trying to hold back leaked onto my cheeks, and I didn;t even lift a hand to wipe them away.

Guess you've won again, Ed...

But then, a few hours later, I realised what I had to do.

I rested my foot. I stayed at home for a few days folowing the incident, elevating the injured foot on a mountain of cushions with my knitting and my laptop close to hand to keep my mind busy and Ed quiet. I moved about as little as I could. By God it was not easy; for rest is something that I really really do struggle with. But I knew that my foot needed it, that I needed it. Otherwise, if I kept on clattering around at ninety miles an hour, walking and doing my usual chores, I wasn't going to get myself anywhere. I would just make my foot worse and worse.

And then, over the next few days, my foot DID improve. the swelling reduced dramatically, the aches lessened and then diminished altogether. But one thing that did not fade, was the memory of what had just happened. The realisation of just how lucky I really was.

No. I',m not recovered. And as I confessed to you at the beginning of this post, the past couple of months haven't been great for me in terms of sticking to my meal plan. But. I KNOW I have to get myself back on track. Because it's obvious that there is still work to be done, in terms of recovery and strengthening my body and bones and improving my osteoporosis. I know that if I don't stick to that meal plan, I will be as helpless and as weak as a canoe without a paddle,caught on the rushing rapids. I will be swept away and dashed against the rocks. Ed tries to tell me, that i do not need to stick to the meal plan. That I should try to lose weight again and go back to skinny, stick thin Emmy. No. I canot, I will not let this happen. I know that I have to keep on fighting, keep on nourishing my body and my bones. Then and only then will my body become stronger; only then will the severity of my osetoporsis be reduced; only then will I be able to get my periods back. I know that I have to do it. I have come too far to turn back now.

Tomorrow I will commence with my recovery chalenege!! So sorry my posts are all a bit higgley-piggedly at the moment. I also plan to write more about how I plan to fight my ED in terms of sticking to the meal plan, and share my thoughts and advice on this. I have recently received alot of advice from a very special friend of mine and I just want to take this opportunity to thank her with all my heart. <3 xxx

Day 11: What motivated you to enter recovery?

For eight long years, I was completely lost in the sea which my eating disorder had created for me...and I was powerless to resist its domineering, manipulative Voice. A Voice that occupied my head every single minute of every single hour of every single day in which I breathed...or tried to breathe, because it felt at times it was suffocating me.

yet I clung to it, clung to it  like a drowning girl grasping a slippery piece of driftwood, lost in the depthless expanses of some terrible, endless ocean. For a while the driftwood provides comfort, salvation for her. She allows herself to think she is safe and this flimsy thing on which she has pinned all her hopes on will never let her down. But it does, of course, and suddenly she is falling,falling, swallowed up by that terrible grey sea which washes over her without mercy, reclaiming her for its own.

And Anorexia is like that, in many ways...the driftwood is the Voice and its lies, the Voice which you put all your trust in; but ineveitably, of course, that Voice will cast you down without one drop of remorse. And then that sea is is the force which is the force of an eating disorder; a force that submerges you, pulls you under, drowns you, destroys you...

This is what was happening to me, until the day when something moved deep inside me, and I suddenly realised that, no, I was not living - I was drowning. All of a sudden everything changed me and I realised I wanted to recover and fight for my life...

There were a number of things which motivated me to enter recovery. First and foremost, of course, the deep love I possessed for those who cared about me. Whenever I was with them, I could feel their pain; sense their concern and frustration. They were so, so worried about me...but they knew, that they could not help me until I decided that i wanted to help myself.

Another fundamental motivation for me to recover was my recognition of the extent to which my eating disorder had damaged and harmed my body. This recognition was really driven home to me in November last year, when my college doctor pointed out to me that the reason why I had seemingly injured my foot without having actually fallen, slipped, or enagaged in any kind of impact activity, was because my body was so undernourished and my bones and muscles were more than likely damaged and in a very bad way. And then, of course, there was the osteoporosis diagnosis. This was a horrible, horrible blow to the head for me. it was yet another testimony to just howmuch my eating disorder had cost me. The few weeks following my diagnosis were very, very tough for me. I wanted to give up, because it felt like, after having been through so, so much, my anorexia really had triumphed, this time.

I didnt think there was anything left for me to recover for.

But then, after nights of crying myself to sleep, dragging myself through the day and faking countless smiles to those around me; of concealing the hurricane of emotions deep inside me which clawed at my heart; threatening to tear me apart altogether...then, I suddenly realised that I needed to pick myself up again. that no, serious osteoporosis did not mean that my eating disorder had won; or that I should just give in to it. In fact, I knew that it should be quite the opposite. I had to see my osteoporosis as motivationto recover...as it was possible, that I could improve my bones and make them stronger, if I continued to nourish my body and fight my eating disorder.

And of course, last but most certainly not least...my little blog and my readers. You all have played such an important part in motivating me to enter recovery. Your support, helpful advice, words of encouragement. for simply taking the time to read my blog, or leaving me a little comment on any particular blog post...I've said it once I know, but I say it again, because I really do mean it, with all my heart. Thank you so, so much, for reading my blog, for writing a comment, for thinking of me, for supporting me...you have no idea just how much this means to me. Thank you, so, so much. <3 xxx

One of my first outings out after being discharged from hospital :) xxx

Day 10: 5 of my Goals...

1.) To recover from my eating disorder; and to live a life uncontrolled by the Voice inside my head.

I realise now that, unless I continue to fight my eating disorder with every breath in my body and succeed in making a full - not a half - recovery, I will never win back my freedom or happiness. Neither will I improve my osteoporosis or accept myself for the person I really am - that person being Emmy, the Emmy without an eating disorder...

2.) To help and reach out to those in need.

I know that there is alot of suffering in the world. In every single country of our planet, there is poverty, inequality, disease, homelessness. And the list doesn't end there of course. On a more local scale, there are many people in our society who may be isolated, destitute, depressed, or just in need of a helping hand.
I want to be able to make a difference in the world, some day...and as soon as I am well enough to do so, I am going to make this goal a reality. i am not sure how, but it is something I have set my heart on. Maybe I will volunteer overseas or become a community worker or get involved in some form of charity work. I'm not sure, I just know deep down this is something which means so, so much to me.

3.) To become a primary school teacher. 

this is the career that I have dreamed of pursuing; ever since my latter years of primary school. However, when things began to go wrong for me at secondary school, my dream wavered. I didn't think that I was good enough, and that I would not be able to do Honours Irish. So I turned onto another path, one which I was certain I would be able to succeed in...that being, of course, English.
Years on from that and here I am. And now I realise that I was wrong to give up on my dream. Nothing is impossible when you believe and once again I have set my heart on pursuing this particular career path. And I no longer believe that  i would not be "suitable" for this sort of career. I am friendly, kind, loving, patient and hardworking and I love being around children. All I need to do is fight and overcome my eating disorder, so that I can be well enough to start working and also so that I can stand as a positive role model to the children, someone they can look up to.

4.) To forge myself a life without an eating disorder.

At present I don't really know what that life actually is. What will it be like, what will I be doing, where will I be going. But there is only one way to find out, and that is to RECOVER. And I know that my life without an eating disorder will be like nothing I have never experienced before...but I hope that my life without an eating disorder will be one of freedom. Freedom, and excitement, and adventure...of laughter and fun and special memories, memories which I will cherish forever and will look back upon with happy, tearful fondness.

5.)To raise awareness about eating disorders, the world over.

When I feel that I am ready I really want to get involved in volunteering with eating disorder support networks such as Bodywhys. Through my blog and my writing, I aim to spread awareness about this awful mental illness that claims the lives of so many sufferers every year. I am determined to do everything in my power to stop the spread of eating disorders. I hope that by sharing my experience and telling my story, I will be able to make people more informed and aware of the complexity of eating disorders, and highlight the awful consequences they can have for the victims and their families. I never fitted the "typical" anorexic stereotype many people might associate with an eating disorder. I was never at an extremely low bbmi, I never vomited or used laxatives and I never went through a day eating nothing at all. But yet, because of my eating disorder, I have serious osteoporosis and very poor mental health. I had been restircting and overexercising for the duration of my teenage years and this had a very damaging effects on both my body and mind.
 My goal is to allow others to recognise that, regardless of how mild or severe a person's eating disorder is; regardless of whether they be underweight, overweight, or normal weight; and regardless of what different symtoms or behaviours they may display  - I want others to recognise that everyone with an eating disorder is equally entitled to proper support, care, and treatment. It's true, you might see someone on the street today and not think for one moment that he or she has an eating disorder...but often, appearances can be very, very deceptive; and so much can be hidden behind a smile and a cheery face. <3 xxx

Places I would Love to see in my Lifetime!!! :)

Before I commence with Day 9 of the recovery challenge...i just had to join in my dear little friend across the North Sea, Ange <3 , in compiling a list of the places we would love to see or visit in our lifetime!!

I found doing this so fun and exciting, as well highly motivational - After all, it is important to be fully aware that in order to travel and explore all these fascinating, beautiful, unique or extraordinary places, one must be well enough to do so...and also, of course, the expereince will never, ever be fully enjoyed if you are still holding on to your eating disorder. And this is something which I am constantly reminding myself of, as I look toward the summer ahead of me and all the lovely plans I have made. I know, that if I let that Voice in my head control me, dictate my every move...then instead of laughter and joy and that pure, unbroken, true happiness which makes your heart sour within your chest and a rosy glow spread over your cheeks...no, in replacement of that there will be anxiety, apprehension, tears, and fearfulness. Too many holidays, trips, journeys and special times, have been ruined by my eating disorder...and I never, ever want this to happen, ever, ever again.

So here we go...my own wee (or maybe not so wee.. ;) ) list of the places I want to see before I die:

• Canada. I think the landscape opf this huge country looks absolutely spectacular..the mountains, the forests, the lakes...and then of course there is all the fabulous wildlife to be seen there..moose, wolves, bears, and so much more. I would love love love to bvisit this stunning country <3
• Mallorca..haha I know, I've been here for a few times at this stage. But I will never, ever tire from visiting this stunning island off the coast of Spain. It surely is one of my most favourite places on earth. I literally fell in love with gorgeous Mediterranean scenery...I have a bit of a love relationship with that, ever since I first visited Mallorca. The groves of olive and citrus trees, the goats and cows and sheeps with the little bells around their necks which tinkle softly when they move, the narrow streets of the villages with their tiny bakeries and dainty cafes with the parasols open over each table...all of it just has a quintessential charm which couldnt be found anywhere else on earth <3

• Italy. Italy attracts me for many reasons of course. The historical stuff, the landscape, the weather, the mountains and the cities and the heavenly ice creams. Italy just has it all really it seems. ;) 
• Florida. Well of course...Disneyland Orlando...I have dreamed of going there ever since I was a little girl. I am an avid Disney fan after all, and I just, well, love rollercoasters, haha. And there really is something magical about Disneyland....an enchanted sort of feel which simply can't be found in any other place in the world <3
• Germany. I've never been to Germany but again, it looks so fascinating. I particularly would love to see the beautiful fairytale Castles there (as you all know I am a bit of a medievalist at heart ;) ) and also visit some of the cities such as Munich..and of course a certain special little friend who lives near there.. ;) 
• Australia. Again another magnificent country I would love to go to. I would love to swim the sapphire blue waters of the great Barrier Reef and see all the Nemos and Dorys in their natural habitat... ;) and I would love to see Ayers Rock, Sydney, Brisbane and the rainforests. And I'm sure there's loads more to Australia than just that.
• Wales. I've been to the smallest country of the island of Britain a few times, but for fondness for it seems to augment following every single visit.  Wales is so, so lovely. I adored the Snowdonia mountains, the quaint little villages, the railways, the splendid castles and fantastic coastal scenery.
• New Zealand. Sofar away, but, having watch the Lord of the Rings and been told it was filmed in New Zealand, I feel compelled to go there for myself. It looks incredible!! And hey there are penguins and kiwis and lots of other animals there <3 it's not a country I know that much about, but still this aura of mystery surrounding it makes me want to go there even more!!!
• Scotland. Again, the history, the landscape, the wildlife. The rugged wildness of the Scottish highlands hold a sort of spellbinding effect over me. And then of course there are lots of castles, lakes, glens, and forests. A breathtaking coastline, a beautiful capital city, hundreds of windswept little isles and islets to explore. It's one gem of a place. <3
• Another dear friend told me about Russia and it also sounds amazing, so I am adding Russia to my list too!
• There are many parts of England that I really want to visit somet ime in the future, too: in particular, Cornwall, Kent, Cumbria. And back to my homeland, too, of course, Kent, the Garden of England <3 
• Sweden also looks very aesthetic too. As do all the other Scandinavian countries..ok let's just say I would love to go to all of them!!! :p
• California again..you can never have had enough of the Golden State <3 
• Austria also looks really nice and I love the Alpine setting <3

Please don't hesitate to join in...what about YOU? Where do you really want to go to during your lifetime? Please comment or link your blog below!! <3

I want to recover for...

I want to recover for...

For everyone I love, near and afar.

For my Mam

For my family

For all my dear friends across the world <3

For everyone who reads my blog

For others who are suffering from an eating disorder, so that I will be able to reach out and help them, too, and stand as the living proof that recovery is possible...

For Benny, Felix and Maisy

For loved ones I have known and lost

For happiness and freedom

For everyone who has been there for me, along this long, hard, painful journey..

For the hope of a brighter future

For everything that the Voice in my Head took away from me

For the happy, healthy life that I could have been living, that I should be now living.

For the energy to do the things I love.

And, someday, I will realise that I want to recover for myself, too.

never forget...you have so much to recover for. <3 xxx

Over the next few days I am going to reflect on a few things. First and foremost...why I want to recover, and then of course, the fears and anxieities I have surrounding recovery. Then I am going to think about how I want my life to be from this point onwards. 

I hope that by sharing with you my own reasons to recover in my next few posts, you too will realise just how much recovery is worth fighting for, every minute of every hour, of every day...