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

The Dash

Your Life Is Made of Two Dates and a Dash. Make the Most of the Dash

img_3447

I don’t want to be at the end of my stretch and look back and realise I lost some of the best years of my life to my eating disorder. I don’t want to look back and see things I missed out on because the demon stopped me from doing them.

Equally, I don’t want to look back and realise I stopped myself from being happy. Stopped myself from being me. I want someone to be proud to have me. Not because I’m pretty or skinny, as my ED tells me, but because they value me as a person. Now, I do know people I have been with and dated did like me as a person but naturally I am well aware of those who abused and took advantage of me. Whilst, its so unfortunate, that’s life.

I want to look back and be confident my decisions were right. I want to look back and see pictures like the one I’ve shared; where I look Strong not Skinny.

I want to make the most of this ‘dash’. I want to keep progressing the way that I am and not keep falling back. Those people who took advantage or did not appreciate me will eventually realise what they’ve missed out on. I don’t think I’ve felt this happy or confident and it truly is a lovely place to be. I’m not skinny. I’m strong.

Isn’t it crazy how we can look back a year ago and realise how much everything has changed? The amount of people that have left your life, entered, and those that have stayed. The memories you won’t forget and the moments you wish you could. Everything. It is crazy how all that happened in one year. It’s made me realise too, you know you really love someone when you can’t hate them no matter how much they broke your heart.

I just want to make the most of these amazing opportunities I have right now and starving and purging isn’t going to allow that. Keep eating moderately and exercising well. I’ve never felt happier or prouder of my progress than I do right now.

 

A Beautiful Paradox

seeingdouble

 

She was broken but never hopeless. Alone but never lonely. Her eyes reflected pain but projected courage. She was a beautiful paradox

I really like that quote and feel like I can massively relate to it. It always feels weird to have people say things to me like, ‘I love how confident you are, you don’t take crap from anyone!’ when deep down, I know I’m filled with self-doubt.

The look on people’s faces when they realise what I’ve gone through and what I’m currently going through can really say it all for me. They genuinely have no idea the happy, chatty girl with the infectious smile can be so broken inside. The problem is, I’m not pretending to be that happy person, I know that person is me. It’s just that beneath it all there is the girl struggling to glue herself back together.

All it takes is one nightmare from that night…one glance from a girl skinnier than me…one more family argument, to tear down that smile and the tears come running. I really am a confident person, definitely personality confident and definitely NOT body confident but I really am getting there with being comfortable with the way I look.

I met the other trainees this week and they were so skinny. They really were, no lumps and bumps, no chest like mine and I felt so huge. They were like sticks and there I am…most definitely not a stick. I felt so self-conscious…I’ve not felt like that since i was half-naked in a swimming costume. They were all talking about how great their lives were and are, their family background and their wonderful boyfriends. DOn’t get me wrong, every single girl would have been through similar shit like me and to be honest, they were lovely and I don’t think I met a single person I disliked. No one commented on my looks or weight, or made any hint or suggestion.

No one except me. I was so down that day and I relapsed when I got home.

The next day my latest gym delivery arrived, protein etc. and a new (complimentary) gym top. Its silly but new gym kit? That is most certainly the way to motivate you to go! I felt so good, I went and worked out for an hour, did my weights and finished with a run and I looked in the mirror and felt…proud. Staring back at me was the girl who (yes, I relapsed) but woke up today determined to continue on my journey of becoming the best possible version of myself.

And I was not skinny.

But I looked strong.

#StrongNotSkinny seems to be trending lately I suppose

And it felt good.

I want to be so skinny at times but I’m also happy to be strong.

I feel so inadequate as if I don’t deserve anything or anyone but I also believe I deserve special because I do believe I am special.

I want to be loved but I know I still don’t quite love myself so…as my favourite drag queen quotes… If you can’t love yourself how in the hell you gonna love someone else!

Haha here I am quoting Ru Paul (she is the best though).

I really am happier. I’m getting less focused on skinny and more focused on strong. My housemates seem to love me for me…I’m sure my new friends will love me for me and I’m sure that one day someone else will love me for me.

I really am a paradox. I feel simultaneously not good enough and too much. I suppose I need to keep journeying for the happy medium where the outside smiles and confidence truly reflects the inside smiles and confidence.

I’m not broken anymore, because I’ve already started to put myself back together. I am simply currently undergoing my re-construction.

The best of me is yet to come.

Heartache, Heartbreak

I just feel so lonely, struggling to pick myself up. These past two months have been hell and I’ve never had to cope with so many different yet equally hard situations.

And its as if there isn’t anyone there. I feel like I’m struggling to get through this and I don’t know how to make it better. I’ve resorted to unreal measures to purge and I feel so ashamed of myself. There’s so much hurt, so many doubts, so much self-hatred that the only way out is to purge.

I hate myself, I hate everything about every decision I made, I feel so dirty and horrible and hate every piece of me that went wrong the past 8 weeks. I hate everything. I hate this feeling, I hate the purging, but I hate not purging as well. I feel like its the only thing that can calm me down at the end of the day, when the stress has accumulated over the passing hours.

I’m so stressed out and I just hate everything about myself right now. I hate the decisions I made and how they hurt someone, someone so special. But the decisions have hurt me too. No one seems to realise just how much I’m hurting, how hard the struggle is, how every day has become so dark and filled with hate. I’m hurting so much and I can’t keep this brave face on much longer.

They said it was the right thing. They told me it was the correct choice. But now that its done, now that there’s no way back, why do I feel so broken?

Stillness

Standing still but my mind won’t stop spinning. I don’t want to hurt like this and I don’t know what’s going to make it stop. I can’t decide which path to take and I know I’m hurting him. I can’t hurt him. I don’t want to break his heart and its breaking mine.

I need my brain to sit still. I need it to stop being a hazy mess but nothing seems to make it any clearer. Nothing is helping, nothing is going to help. I don’t want to put him in pain. I can’t bear to do that but I’m in pain. This decision is breaking me in two and it’s making me ill.

I can barely eat, I can barely sleep, I can barely sit still and I just want to be still. I want everything to be still and silent and empty so I can breathe.

I want this sea of emotions that’s getting darker and rougher to settle, be still and clear so I can do what is right.

I think I know.

But I don’t want to hurt him.

I never wanted to hurt him. Doing that kills me inside. It makes me hate myself.

I don’t want to hurt myself anymore.

I’m hurting enough already.

 

Be mine

I feel terrible saying this because of what happened last week. I tried to talk about it but it was still too raw, and he felt I was justifying what happened. I do understand that.

But I want to go out. I want my boyfriend to come with me.

To be proud to come out with me. To want to be seen holding my hand.

To show everyone that I’m his.

I hate going to parties and the like without him. Everyone asking why my boyfriend wouldn’t come with me.

I want to have romantic meals, or a walk in the park.

I want him to show me off to his friends and to let me show him off to mine.

I want to go to a party and dance with my boyfriend rather than dancing on my own.

I hate seeing other couples there, holding hands, dancing, cuddling, kissing.

I love him so why does he not want to come for a drink with me, to a party, to a BBQ. He doesn’t even have to pay for it.

Just come with me. Be with me. Outside of the flat.

I want to go to a party, have a drink and a dance but with him. Not with my friends…not having to stop guys from trying to dance with me.

And the more I drink the more I wish he could be there with me, dancing, holding my hand. Just there with me.

So I drink more.

I drank more.

But I have no argument. No leg to stand on. Not any more.

I want to be looked at as though I am the most beautiful girl in the world. I want him to hold my hand on the walk home. I want to be treated like I’m not something to be lost. I want him to be there and just know that he can’t be without me.

I want him to meet my friends and I want to meet his.

I want him to show how proud he is to be mine…

How proud he is, for me to be his…

Whats another crack when you’re already broken?

I’ve never felt so weak, so confused, so unhappy, so broken.

I’ve never been this down. I’ve never felt as if I have absolutely nothing left until now. When I relapsed in January I was convinced with the help of my friends I’d get better but now we’re almost at the end of May and I’m worse, not better. Five months later and I’ve spiralled downwards more quickly and worse than ever before.

I don’t understand. I don’t quite know how I’ve gotten so bad and I most certainly don’t know how the past five months have just passed without me even realising.

I’ve been drifting along and not really paying attention to the things I’ve been doing or the choices I’ve been making.

Last night was an all-time low and I’ve never hit rock bottom so hard. A vicious cycle of eating and purging which ended in me cutting the back of my wrist. I don’t feel anger or hatred. I just feel hurt. There is so much pain aching in my heart and I can’t get rid of it. I feel like a failure. I’m a weak disgusting failure and no wonder no one wants to be with me. I’m alright for a bit of fun when they need it but nothing more. But how could I expect to mean something to anyone when I don’t mean anything to me?

In training last week I hit the shoulder recovery milestone of 5KM only to spend all afternoon in A+E on monday to find out that I had prolapsed my lower discs again and could barely walk. I tried swimming yesterday and only managed 750m. Not even 1KM. Lost more than 80% of my milestone. Injured. Injured Again. Weak. Failure.

Just when everything looks like its getting better something happens. That girl gets injured again. Even my friend made a passing comment of ‘you really are that girl‘, it didn’t upset me at all, in fact I laughed because all I can do is laugh….and cry…and feel hurt and upset…feel weak. Failure. I reached a milestone only to fall back further than before.

I’ve been physically broken since I was born so what difference did every broken bone, severed nerve, ruptured muscle, misplaced organ, skin disorder, torn tendon, muscle defect, joint damage, slipped disc really make?

I was born broken, it  was only inevitable that the cracks were going to get deeper and deeper.

I wasn’t born mentally broken but the physical cracks most certainly didn’t help.

And now look at me.

Almost 23 years later and i’ve got every scrape and bruise, scathe and scar to prove it.

And they knew I was cracked. They knew I had cuts and scars deeper than the normal person but instead of handing me some glue they bullied me. They picked at the scabs and dug at the cracks until there was nothing left. And people let them. Until I couldn’t hold all my broken pieces together anymore. Until I cracked completely. Until I broke.

And I spent two years fixing myself. Slowly picking up the pieces and putting myself back together. And for what? To end up more broken than ever before. Shattered into a thousand pieces instead of a hundred and with far less glue at my fingertips

I used to be angry. I used to have hatred towards the bullies who made me feel so small and hatred towards myself for developing an eating disorder but now I’m just sad. Now I’m just hurt and upset and I want to be happy but the girl I was seems like such a distant memory I almost don’t remember her. I don’t remember how she ignored the world and lived in her own little bubble loving her life. I don’t even know how she could have done that in the first place.

All time low.

Brand new rock bottom.

But what’s another crack when you’re already broken?