‘Full of Joy’


I haven’t written for almost a month, in fact, I think it’s been almost exactly a month since I last wrote. Most of the times when I go silent it means something’s up, something I’m not quite ready to tackle head on but I’m pleased to say this time it’s quite the opposite.

To the north of mainland Greece there’s a teeny tiny island called ‘Skiathos’ and it is by far my favourite. I first came here when they told me I was too fat to represent my country at a Paralympic Games and whilst I arrived all doom and gloom I definitely left, yet again, quite the opposite.

So where else would I head to when I had about a month to myself? Where else would I go where my friends are more like family than my own? So yes, you guessed it, here I am in my favourite place in the entire world. 24 days down, 2 to go. 

I thought I’d get bored or lonely at least once because just under four weeks is a long time. But fact of the matter is, I simply haven’t and I’ve loved every single minute. I’ve been meaning to write but I’ve just been so distracted with sun, sea and my family that I wish was my own. The only reason I’ve finally managed to sit down and type something out is because it’s stormy and windy today that I don’t really have any other option!

The first weeks were tough. I couldn’t help but compare myself to everyone else I saw around me. How flat I perceived their stomachs to be. How I perceived myself in comparison. I restricted and I purged but I also did get it under control. 12 weeks…2 episodes of purging. I tried to deal with it healthily and I will admit I struggled but being around old friends and adoptive family filled me with so much joy – there’s a phrase Greeks use in response to the question, ‘How are you?’ – mi hara – ‘full of joy’ and I think that in itself is a beautiful response. 

One day I woke up insanely happy, I felt some sort of spring in my step and I even later in the day cried over text to my bestest. I simply felt happy. I’ve tried to change how I word things – I would say ‘everyone is so much skinnier than me’ and today I noticed I wrote ‘how I perceived…’ . Trying to develop my awareness of my eating disorder symptoms. I used to write I missed who I used to be before my ED and during this trip I realised I should never have focused on becoming a past version of myself because, simply put, we all change. And, yes, I’ve experienced some horrible things but that doesn’t mean I won’t become the best version of myself as a result.

I told him I loved him. The three words slipped out after weeks of me trying to hold them back. I knew I wouldn’t hear them said to me and that was okay but naturally not the greatest feeling. It got to me a bit but now? I’m completely different. I knew I wouldn’t hear them but I still wanted to say how I felt. I didn’t need to hear them back regardless of how much I want to hear them one day. I was brave enough to put my heart on the line because I cared about being honest with my feelings – for myself as much as for him.

Working really hard to separate my inecurities from reality. 

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a scary sorta limbo. I know we’re pretty awesome and the fact he’s made a noticeable effort to text more as I’m more of a ‘communicator’ so to speak, the dedicated weekly face time slot and the simple fact that if I need him, really need him, he’s there…and yeah, we’re pretty awesome together…there’s no need to worry. I don’t want to reach that stage where I may have to deal with a guy who decides he’s never gonna love me but I can’t live in fear of something that’s only got a 50% chance of occurring. I’d probably self-sabotage it all that way anyway.

He does say something to me though – ‘I like you an absolute lot’ 

I think I like that more than ‘I love you’ 

Bit like how I prefer the Greek saying of ‘I’m full of joy’ rather than ‘I’m good/fine/okay’ because when I say the latter, some of it is a lie…but I’m always full of joy so to speak as I’m one of those people who finds happiness in the simplest of things, always happy even if I’m not okay with my body shape or my perception of myself.

Maybe I’ll start focusing on trying to be full of joy. Focused on the little things that bring me happiness rather than the things that make me feel okay about myself…

Welcome Home 


I’ve had this blank page staring back at me the past few days. Want to write, know that I do, but about what? I don’t know.

I just don’t know.

My head is spinning with a thousand questions, so much so I won’t allow myself to even take a step back and appreciate how well the past three weeks have gone. I’ve not weighed myself at all and I don’t feel as much of a need to. Part of me thinks that shows massive progression but the other part tells me its because I’m scared to see the number, that I’m bound to have gained weight.

Every time I think I’ve made steps forward that voice simply tells me I haven’t. It downplays my success. I’ve not purged for more than 3 weeks…but that’s probably because I’ve been with other people, not because I’ve gotten stronger…

He wants to be with me. Says that he does. Says that he really likes me. But I don’t know. What if I’m setting myself up for yet another failure. Am I weak for going back? Or am I making the right choice by trying to work through whatever happened? But what did happen? I don’t know. I still don’t get it, I still can’t process it because he hasn’t given me a reason as to why he did what he did.

And my head keeps spinning.

When I’m with him, its perfect. As though nothing happened. But when I’m alone I just think of all that pain he brought to that Sunday a few weeks ago.

He said after a really long (and I mean really long) relationship he’s scared of picking the wrong person. He described it as akin to a mental health issue, that he panicked and almost couldn’t control the things he was saying. I can half understand that, even though none of my friends do.

But surely that means I’m the wrong person? I mean, of course I am. No matter how many steps I move forward nor how many achievements I make, I have so many failures and broken pieces of me that can never be forgotten.

Failures and broken pieces that are rooted in a bastard of an eating disorder.

Of course I would never be right.

Of course, each time someone ‘genuine’ comes along, they soon enough realise I’m not right.

Why would I be?

Does this mean he’s just going to end it another day in the future? Right now, he is right for me. I don’t believe its healthy to look too far into the future regarding relationships too soon but am I just here, making him better for the next one to come along? Just like always.

Always setting them up to treat the next one better.

For once I thought I was finally getting treated better.

I just don’t know anymore.

But he does treat me right. One stupid afternoon, one epic mind fuck but everything else feels incredibly normal and perfect. I can’t spend a relationship second guessing everything…just like I can’t spend my recovery second guessing every step forward that I make.

No more second guessing, back to going with the flow, I suppose.


Twitter: @elenip92

Instagram: @elenipapa92

Distant Memories of Past

The lightening hits unexpectedly, and it’s over within a flash…but the after shock – it resonates, of distant memories from the past.

The world was always cruel but in 2010 it took a turn, trusted so many people and all they seemed to do was sit back and watch me burn.

The boy who would force with words he claimed were ‘love’. The boy who couldn’t understand no, the simplest of words.
The boy who didn’t care, about everything he was given. And the boy who took it all…didn’t care for what was forbidden.

Vulnerable and weakened. Taken advantage, for granted…used, abused and worse.

Worthless.

Underserving of anything that could be love.

The world was once so cruel but in 2017 it took a turn. Lightening, ever unexpected, and an after shock that resonates, shaking right to the bones.

With every step moved forward, memories try to push it back. But with every step there’s a friend with a hand or hug – bringing new memories to replace the past. They bring out the smile and they pull out laughter from under the cracks. They hold a hand when its needed most and carry when its hard to stand.

One day you suddenly realise that, those distant memories of past…the ones that used to scream, and shout and tear apart…that’s all they are…distant memories of past. Still there. Still echoing at the back. But an echo nonetheless, are those distant memories of past.

And the one who gives a kiss, he turns the echo into a whisper. The one who stays on the phone all night, she brings laughter to beat the pain. The one who’s always there, giving endless hugs galore, she makes the world spin once more.

Distant memories of past that helped to shape the mould. Built the walls and dungeons, created that Demon war. Screaming. Shouting. So much pain. But distant memories of the past, they also shaped a path.

A path to more. A path back to who once was, who never left. Who can stand ever so tall.

Hand in hand with those who love, those who deserve, those, to whom, I give my all.

 

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Nightmare Realities

The illness crept up on me full force when I was reminded over an awful night that happened almost a year ago…wow, it’s almost a year ago now…one year…12 months…52 weeks…365 days ago.

Can I even call it an anniversary? Surely that day doesn’t deserve to have an anniversary? Nevertheless, the date is fast approaching and I can feel the pitch black darkness of that day catching up with me.

I’ve been running through mud trying to escape it and now I’m stuck. I’m stuck in the illness that’s got so much worse when the memories were triggered. When the pain came back. When the fear infested me all over again. When the nightmares became more frequent and more intense than ever before.

It’s like I can’t breathe. He’s there on top of me and I can’t move. I’m weak and I can’t get him off. My chest tightens and I can’t breathe. Can’t breathe, can’t move and it’s all because I’m weak. I was too weak to stop it then and I’m even weaker that I’m letting it affect me now.

That’s what the voice tells me. It was all my fault and I could have stopped it and if I had stopped it I wouldn’t be having the problems now. I wouldn’t be bouncing from restriction to purging like the broken boomerang I am. I let myself be in that position when I was vulnerable. I could have stopped it. I could have prevented it.

But no.

Because I was weak.

Because I am weak.

He’s there. His hands, his body, everything and I can’t get him off me. I can’t move, can’t breathe…I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe. I just want him off me. I can’t breathe. Just get off me. Please stop. I can’t breathe. I’m dreaming. I need to wake up but I can’t wake up. It’s not happening again. It’s a dream. But it’s happening and I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

Can’t move.
Can’t breathe.

Eventually I do breathe but it’s a scream that escapes my mouth.

I wake up crying and shaking. I’m covered in sweat and my heart is beating so fast I feel like it’s going to burst out my chest. The fear sets off my epilepsy and I’m sat having seizures in bed. Crying. Shaking. Sweating. Fitting.

I smashed a bowl that was by my bed one of the last times. I actually reached out from one side of the bed and smashed it on the wall in my sleep because I was that convinced the dream was real.

Each time it happens I’m feeling weaker and weaker. There’s nights I’m scared to fall asleep and I feel so weak.

I. Feel. So. Weak.

I. Feel. So. Out. Of. Control.

I should have been in control of that situation, it’s my fault I was there. I should have known better. I should have been strong enough to stop it and I wasn’t. I let myself down. I wasn’t in control and I was so damn weak.

Fucking stupid girl.

I know my ED is based on control and feeling weak…maybe there’s a bigger link between my recent relapse and that upcoming anniversary I can’t avoid.

 

 

 

 

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

And Breathe…

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Take a step outside and shut your eyes. Feel that breeze in the air, take one big breath in and hold.

Keep holding.

And breathe.

Let it all out.

Let the stress leave and the pain subside.

It’s okay to crumble. It’s okay to slip up under the pressure. It’s okay to fall.

But breathe.

Just breathe sweetheart because that really is all that matters.

Through all the heartache and heartbreak. Through the stress and the tears. Through the chaotic whirlwind that’s trying to swallow you whole…just breathe.

I know it hurts. I know you feel like a failure. I know you’re struggling to fight back those tears.

So don’t fight. Just breathe.

You don’t need to fight and be strong for everyone else when you need every ounce of your strength for yourself.

And don’t you worry about a thing because they all understand.

Just breathe.

It’s all going to be okay. You’re always okay. Always have been and always will be.

Just breathe sweetheart.

And don’t forget to smile.

Breathe and smile. Always smiling.

You got this.

You always did.

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Twitter: @elenip92
Instagram: @elenipapa92

 

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