Concrete Walls 

It’s been eleven days since you broke up with me for approximately 30 minutes. Eleven days since you spent an entire day changing your mind and messing with mine in the process. Eleven days since you planted the worlds biggest mind fuck into my head and not a single day out of those eleven has passed where I haven’t thought of what you did to me.

I’ve had a great eleven days here in Peru but they’ve been riddled with doubts and fears and tears.

My mind tells me it’s because I’m ‘too much’. With all my different illnesses, and one illness in particular, of course I would be a burden to anyone. I know it’s lying to me but my heart believes it right now. My heart believes my mind when it’s telling me that I am damaged goods once more.

Nobody wants what is broken.

I’m already second guessing your words and actions since I’ve been away. Something I never had to do because you never played games. You never messed me around or mind fucked me…not until now, anyway.

I put all my savings into this trip and my one at the end of summer because you insisted I stay with you. I can’t even afford a hostel when I come back to London because you said you wouldn’t accept rent money off me. You want me to stay but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to be there whilst my mind is already playing cruel tricks on me.

Tricks and lies that you have helped create.

I had to get weighed today because I was flying over the Nazca Lines in these tiny rickety planes and I felt unbelievably scared. I knew that knowing the number wouldn’t benefit me and so I didn’t look. You could say that’s a massive step forward for me and I wanted to talk to you about it but I can’t. 

The trust has gone.

The damage you have caused isn’t irreparable but it’s there for now.

I want to trust you but you’ve really left me a mess.

My brain and my friends think I shouldn’t go back but my heart wants to trust you. It wants to trust your words and actions these past eleven days but my brain and friends are trying to protect my heart from what happened to it 5 years, 1 year and even 9 months ago. 

I am so tired of crying.

The walls are up but that doesn’t mean they won’t be brought down once more. 

Right now, I don’t know if they should come down.

Water Baby



24 years ago my mum took me swimming and 22 years later I surprisingly left the pool. Two years following that I found the courage to take the plunge but my strength didn’t last long at all. 6 months after I last donned my hat and goggles I was asked to be someone’s girlfriend, and although it took me 24 hours I was never happier to put aside my fears and take the plunge in a different way.

However, one month ago I was triggered and 3 weeks ago I relapsed. 1 week ago I went for help and we all know that because that’s what my last post spoke about. So what’s happened since? I came to Thailand to fully live up to the whole cliched expression of finding myself and majorly because I need time away from a lot of the shit I have to deal with. I was with a group at one part of my journey because I had so spontaneously planned this trip during exams that I was more disorganised-ly organised than usual.

Problem was, I met girls who came to Thailand to get wasted, laid and sunbathe. I didn’t come here for that, I wanted to experience the culture, which I did, I wanted to experience the lifestyle, which I did and I wanted to chill on my own at times,which I did. But I was given glances and thoughts said out loud that should never have been spoken. I don’t want details but I felt judged.


I was in this beautiful national park, Koh Sok, and I promise you the pictures don’t do it justice and I just wanted to cry. They made me feel that the fat girl once more and the emotions were building and the pain just burst through my heart as I couldn’t suppress it anymore. I couldn’t stop the tears but there was one girl I knew was kind, I knew was genuine, the one who I knew didn’t judge me. There was no network or wifi, I had no one to talk to but regardless of that I’m so glad I went to her.
We sat at the back of a floating bungalow with the back door open onto this beautiful lake, our feet in the water and the mountains as our back drop and I cried and opened up my heart to her. I basically told her everything and she simply listened and helped me work through some things. I was scared to stand around in my bikini, water calling out to me, calling me back to it like a long lost love but I was so scared. In love with something that once hurt me so bad.

But it was never the water that hurt me was it?

I have fear associated with the water but that was never what really hurt me. It was simply used to hurt me.


Emotions spilled out into the bungalow, into those mountains, into that lake and just like that I jumped…it only took five minutes for the smile to arrive and two days later it’s still not left. It’s something so small but took so much courage and I’m so happy I had the strength to do it.

Reunited with a long lost love.

I don’t quite know why I came to Thailand, but if it’s to ‘find myself’ then I did. Because I’ve been a water baby since the day I was born. The water truly made me happy and yes some people took that away from me but two days ago, I took it back.

Falling in love over and over again as I jumped from the boat, from the rocks, from anything, into that water. And the love is still there. Today I went island hopping and took full advantage of any opportunity to jump in and swim…I also did something I did every single summer as a child, I went searching for shells and admittedly I only found two but this is one of them…

Finding that shell made me stupidly happy just like shell searching did all those years ago. Swimming and searching for shells in the water that I could genuinely call my home.

Shell searching in Thailand…shell searching….soul searching…

Soul searching in Thailand.

Forever soul searching. Forever unpicking parts of myself. Forever working myself out.
Forever falling in love with myself slowly but surely, day after day.

 


I got so emotional because I was incredibly proud of myself for quite a few steps I’ve made and my heart genuinely beat so fast for the water I fell in love with…I never stopped being in love if I’m honest. I just needed strength to jump.

I needed strength to jump in a whole different sense two weeks ago.
I’ve never been happier that I did jump in both situations…

I once wrote something along the lines of I hope my future daughter never lies alone in bed at night crying her heart out…I can’t ask for more than for her to have friends like I have. The ones who help me eat when I can’t, the ones who give me beds for the night when I need them, the ones like I’ve met in Thailand. I had one of my nightmares last night. I woke up screaming, convinced I was getting…being…still can’t say that R word, again. Shaking and sweating but K (the girl I opened up to) came straight over to calm me down, tell me it was a dream and suddenly the world stopped spinning, my tears stopped running, and my heart wasn’t choking any more.

Baby steps…but then again, it’s hard to take steps on land when you’re a water baby at heart…


Twitter: @elenip92

Instagram: @elenipapa92

V-Day-D-Day (Part 2)

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That’s right…V-Day-D-Day got worse yesterday AFTER I published my new post so here I am making an additional one. In all honesty, this guy deserves a separate post anyway, so well done him!

Firstly, let me provide you with some humour as to why some of my previous Valentine’s are ‘special’ in a not-so-special-way:

  • 2013 – I was surprised when we arrived at the restaurant with a triple date with people I really didn’t like.
  • 2014 – A friend was visiting for the week and instead of sleeping next door I found him in my bed and he harassed me.
  • 2015-  A date was kidnapped by his sports team right when I was due to meet him – story was never verified but I’m happy to award points for originality here.
  • 2016 – I was in a relationship where the guy didn’t do anything, where I felt more single than had I actually been alone.

And 2o17?!?! Drum roll please my lovelies!

So, I basically got dumped by a best friend yesterday but remember that guy who hurt me? (I refer to posts such as Shit Happens, A Beautiful Contradiction, Raw)…he damn well text me. It’s sort of ironic considering there was a hint of him in my mind when I wrote V-Day-D-Day (part 1) about boys lying to me.

My heart sank when his name flashed up on my phone. I actually panicked a bit. I didn’t know what to do. I do miss the fun we had. But this guy hurt me. When we were ‘dating’ he continually asked me to trust him. He wanted me to think he was genuine. He seemed to care whether I had eaten or not. He asked about my past and the future I wanted. I met a couple of his friends and he met mine.

And so I opened up that heart of mine. Just a little bit. I spent so long with my heart in a cage but I let my heart open up to the idea of something more.

The idea of being with him.

I tried to keep my heart shut but friends convinced me that he liked me. He was doing things that were more than sex. We had sober dates, romantic dates and of course we had drunken dates.

For the first time in forever, I thought someone liked me. And I let myself like that person back.

I let myself become vulnerable because I thought he was worth it.

But then one evening he ripped the band-aid off.

Let’s be honest this has been completely platonic. I thought after ten weeks I would have developed feelings but I haven’t. There’s never been any sort of spark between us. I want to fall in love with my best friend and you’re not that. We should end this. 

Completely platonic. 

Never been a spark. 

You’re not that.

The Demon was incredibly cruel to me following that. It told me I was stupid to think he liked me, that I was wrong to open up when he asked me to, that I was weak for revealing my vulnerability, that I’m only good for sex and not worth anything else. It told me I was ugly and fat and had I never told him about my ED he would have liked me.

It told me lies. Just like he told me lies.

I’ve written before that I don’t want him back but that hopeless romantic in me thought what if he wants to apologise? What if he wants to make up for what he did? I’ll never sleep with him but could we be amicable?

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So I truly was just sex to him for almost 3 months and last night showed he has no respect for me whatsoever. To think he could even consider trying to do this to me.

That’s what stabbed my heart last night. That’s what broke me a little bit more. Any consolation that perhaps I was a touch more than sex, gone.

I live my life by what I call the three-C’s. Stay Classy, never Chase a boy and never Crawl back. He dumped me and I never begged him to change his mind. I strongly remember holding my head high through the tears and walking out of that bar leaving him to settle the bill. I proudly remember refusing to reply to his text following that evening.

(Well done NYE-Drunk Len…you did us proud ❤ )

I’ve slowly been moving on and you think you can play on the fact you know I had feelings for you? You think I’m the type of girl to wait and hope for you to like me back?

Well, you’re a dick and I don’t want you back.

It’s your loss [insert name here]

You chose to lose me and now there’s definitely no prospect of anything ever happening again. He apologised after I replied. I bet he didn’t think I’d turn him down…I bet he thought I’d go running…but that shows how cruel he is.

How cruel some men are to play with our feelings, to pick up and drop our fragile hearts without a care in the world.

You clearly still think about me. You clearly still want me, even if it’s to sleep with me. You clearly had some level of ‘spark’ if you actually had the balls to text me to try get me.

But.You. Can’t. Have. Me. 

I was crying before but now I’m smiling.

And you know what, my lovelies? That means I’ve won.

He chose to lose me.

But I chose to respect myself and the value of my body and my soul.

I chose me ❤

And just look at what he can’t ‘tap’ anymore….

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Twitter:@elenip92
Instagram: @elenipapa92

V-Day-D-Day

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I think I lost a best friend today. Someone who became an unexpected best friend and yet potentially one of the best and all I’ve learnt is that our friendship was a lie.

Happy Valentine’s Day Len!

Another bad one for the storybook. Genuinely cannot say I’ve had a good Valentine’s Day ever.

We would hang out every Sunday. We text nearly every day. But then last week when I told him..yes…he’s a boy…I was about to ask for my job back and might not be able to hang every Sunday (dependent on my shifts) he stopped talking.

And I got worried. I was so concerned that there was something wrong with a best friend of mine I pushed to get through to him and he replied that because I had said I might not be able to hang on a Sunday he didn’t see the point of being ‘pen pals’.

Essentially, his response to his best friend needing to go back to work wasn’t to wonder why she needed to go back, why she needed extra cash but rather, that there was no point being friends anymore.

Ouch is an understatement. True friendship isn’t about how often you see each other but how it feels like nothing has changed no matter how long you spend apart. There’s one reason I can think of why he doesn’t see the point of staying in touch if he can’t see me…maybe he wanted me

I don’t want that to be arrogant but if that is true I’m even more hurt. Because we had an understanding that we were mates and that was it. He was dating other girls and chasing his ex and I was dating, then somewhat seeing someone, then dating again. If that’s the case, that he was only interested as there was potential (in his eyes anyway, not mine) then that really hurts because I’ve been lied to.

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I’m sick of people being dishonest and using me for what they think they can get out of me. Clearly playing some long game with me. Clearly lying about his intentions.

If he had told me then I would have taken steps to ensure that the boundaries were incredibly clear. I would have never become so close to him because I, as a person, would have been scared of leading him on. Scared of hurting someone. Why am I always the one scared of hurting others and they never care about hurting me?

 

Because he lied I became best friends with a liar.
Because he lied I lost a best friend.
Because he lied my heart has broken yet again.

 

 

Raw

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Hands tense, gripping what they can. Trying to stand tall but everything is crumbling.

Heavier weights to try numb the even heavier pain.

But it’s falling away. It’s being ripped away.

It hurts. Oh it god damn hurts.

The pounding starts. The voices come running. Whispers turn into screams.

Walls back up but still spiralling downwards. One step forward yet five leaps back.

Lift even heavier. Push through the pain. It helps the hurt.

But why does it still hurt?

Tears stinging. Why is it still so raw?

I’ll never see him again but why am I scared that it might happen accidentally?

How did one person take away all my strength? All my confidence? All my self-worth? Why did he have to take it, just to have sex with me for a few months?

I can’t do it right now. I can’t fix myself right now. Somebody please pick me up because I really can’t stand on my own right now. Anyone. Please.

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A Beautiful Contradiction

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Let me tell you this. Being told that no feelings had developed, no slight spark after almost 10 weeks of seeing me was potentially one of the most hurtful comments I’ve ever had. Being told that it has all been entirely platonic and being asked to explain why I thought he liked me was a massive kick in the teeth.

I was actually somewhat nice about him in my last post but that’s who I am as a person: I try really hard to see the best in people’s words and actions but the more I think about it, the more I realise that he did mess me around, even if he didn’t mean to. I genuinely don’t believe any objective bystander would tell me I misread his actions and it hurts to feel as though the last 10 weeks were nothing.

That he had no feelings.

It hurts. That’s for sure.

It’s compounded further by the fact I opened up to him. I told him things I would never tell someone I was dating and I have that niggle in my mind that had I not done so he might have liked me. I don’t believe that’s why he ended it but I’m always going to have that doubt that I’m simultaneously too much and not good enough. That I’ve been through so much that I’m damaged goods and not worth anyone’s time.

I’m worth someone’s time though. One day.

But guess who text me at 5am on NYE/New Year’s day?

Okay so it was just a generic ‘Happy New Year x’ text but I do feel kinda of happy that I can 100% tell you I didn’t think of him when I was at this party and yet he thought to send me a text. I mean, yes it was just a generic text he probably sent to all, but he still thought to send me a text me regardless of whether he was drunk or not. My heart jumped and sank a little at the same time when I saw it. Probably because I didn’t expect a text and also because I didn’t hope for him to text me either.

I didn’t reply. I considered it because I wanted to be nice but then I thought, even if he was just trying to be nice, why should I give him the satisfaction of me replying? Most importantly, he hurt me so why should I give him even 10 seconds of my time?

If you couldn’t see how your actions and words hurt me then you really don’t deserve my time.

“Remember that you were art long before he came to admire you, and you’ll continue to be art even when he’s gone”

Mind you, this party I went to? Damn amazing. This fully alcohol-catered-unlimited-free-cocktail-party with a pool (yes, of course I went in!) with lovely people all around me was brilliant. I only knew two people but left with so many friends and most importantly, I went with no expectations and I left with no expectations.

(I also left without my bra, but that’s a story for another day and I promise it’s not sex-related!)

I didn’t go to this party freshly hurt by this guy looking for anyone to make myself feel better. Rebounds never work and one-off rebounds most definitely never work. Jumping straight back in doesn’t allow you to heal.

However, I accidentally met someone.

And I had quite a lovely evening in general.

I had an even more lovely New Year’s Kiss.

And that’s all I’ll say about that because he asked for my number and if I’d see him again but I doubt anything will come of it. However, the fact I don’t care what happens feels even more special right now.

I’m hurt but I’m not crying.
I’m hurt but I’m happy.
I’m on my own but I’m alright with the fact he’s gone.

I feel like a contradiction but I’m a beautiful contradiction at that.

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Instagram: @elenipapa92
Twitter: @elenip92

Shit Happens

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I know I did nothing wrong. I know that sometimes you simply aren’t going to be the right person for someone but god, do I feel like a fool. Last night I wished I could say with conviction that it was his loss and yet I couldn’t.

His words have been such a contradiction to his actions and I simply feel like an idiot for thinking he liked me. I do believe he’s a nice, genuine guy and we probably could have been friends if we met in different circumstances. It might not have been his intentions but I feel like a glorified fuck buddy.

9 weeks ago, I removed my links to my blog from my social media, you know?

I was embarrassed. Okay, well maybe not embarrassed about my blog but more so that I was worried about presenting myself as broken. I removed my website from my profiles and stopped sharing links with the corresponding pictures on Twitter and Instagram. I stopped sharing my journey because I was scared of how a boy might accidentally stumble across chapters of my story without me realising.

Some of my previous posts about my recovery have been brutally honest but the hard truths are what help us recover the most. I suppose that whilst I happily share my journey with the world I still have that fear that when I like someone they won’t like the girl who’s been a little bit broken and battered along the way.

I did mention my ED to him but only briefly. However, that took so much strength. Strength I only found because he gave the impression he liked me. That’s what hurts right now. The fact I stupidly opened up to someone who didn’t see anything in me. I feel as though I’ve let my guard down and that I should have known better.

Wish I would stop stumbling across nice guys who accidentally mess me around.

You know what though?

Shit happens.

And I am never deliberately hiding my story ever again.

24 hours later and I genuinely believe I’m over him. The reason why it’s happened so quick? Because I have a group of badass friends who picked up the phone last night and convinced me to go to them. I travelled across the country late at night and spent all of today with them…still in the clothes I wore to our ‘date’ last night!

Thanks to him I’m going to be even more wary of guys than I was when I met him but also thanks to him, I got to see my absolute bestest who I didn’t get to see this Christmas. I got to see the two newborns of the group as well as their amazing mums who are even better best friends to me.

I got to spend the day with my favourite 3 people with endless cups of tea, biscuits and baby cuddles. So much laughter and a few tears were shed about how, once more, I’ve been messed around but there truly weren’t as many tears as I thought there would be.

Right now, less than 24 hours later I can say with conviction…it’s his loss, not mine. 

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