The road to recovery is paved with holes

Today my mind is elsewhere.

My brain is telling me things I know not to be true – and yet making me question myself.

I am not known for my body confidence.

I am feeling a tug of war going on inside my mind –
between recovery and dormant eating disorder.

I am struggling with this overwhelming urge to restrict my food intake.

I look in the mirror and hate what I see.
I won’t look at myself naked because I loathe myself right now.

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I know in my heart that numbers don’t matter. I know it.
But my brain always seems to overrule me.

Numbers. The numbers on the scale sicken me.
I have a ‘scary’ weight – I have always considered 11 stone (154lb) to be scary.
In fact the mere sight of the needle pointing to that number on the scale freaks me out.

I am currently over this number.

I know. I know that it shouldn’t matter – I want others to know how important being yourself is, and that you are beautiful as you are..because it is true.

But I am struggling
I am in dire straits

I feel disgusting.
I sometimes feel as though I suffer from a type of body dysmorphia
Not that I am trying to self diagnose

I want to be honest and open here because I would otherwise block myself off and shut myself away.

I am fighting with this voice telling me that I am a disgusting waste of air, that I am an embarrassment to my husband and children.

But it is hard.
Right now it is winning.
Right now my recovery is in jeopardy.
Right now I am in a hole and I cannot get out.
Right now I am stuck..I am stuck…I am stuck

Right now I am stranded.

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FMF – dwell

I realise that I am a little late – but you know what happens when I get sidetracked!
I read the prompt for this week, then I began to dwell on things I had long thought forgotten – ironic no?!

But before I begin to waffle – I am joining in with the linkup with Kate
Where we get the opportunity to spend five minutes free writing –

This weeks prompt – dwell

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I wrote a post last week on letting go.
I talked about how it is easier to let go of the past and not to dwell upon it.

Oh how I have tried

This sounds easier than it is.

I consider myself a dweller.
I constantly look back on the past.
Almost refusing to let go of things that have hurt me.

Looking into my past memories makes me feel worse.
Dwelling on my past makes healing harder.

Dwelling is like picking at an old wound and opening it to the elements.
Opening an old wound makes it feel sore, tender and painful.

That is what dwelling upon the past does.

You when you have a fresh wound and you accidentally touch it – the feeling makes wince in pain.
That is how looking back on past memories is for me.

But I almost feel like I dwell on purpose.
Causing myself pain because I always believe that I don’t deserve happiness – so I bring back pain to hurt myself.

But I have had a thought –

For the last week I have been picking my wounds, opening old scars.
I wanted to let go of my past.
Float it away.
But it turned out to be harder than I thought.
So I am going to stick a plaster (band aid) on my wounds and allow them to heal again.
I am still holding on to a few of my hypothetical balloons to let go of, but I have discovered something are harder to let go of.

With these I am going to put them away for now, where I cannot dwell upon them.

If I don’t think, I don’t dwell.
If I don’t remember, I don’t dwell.

Dwelling causes pain
Dwelling stops me from moving forward
Dwelling stops me from being myself

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An ode to coffee

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Oh dear sweet elixir of my morning.

Your delightful aroma draws me from my mattress each day

My heart soars at the sound of the kettle whistling..because it means its time the sweet taste of Java.

As a mama I need your much appreciated caffeine each day to help me function 😉

Don’t think I do not care for you because you get forgotten in the hubbub of school runs and morning routines

My busy day is started with you.
Be it French roast… Java…Colombian… Or *gasp* instant!

You are the exquisite injection of fuel I need to get my butt moving.

Without you the chances of sleeping until noon are greatly increased..hmm maybe not with kids jumping on my bed.
You help me to not want to throw cushions at my overly energetic children.

My tired and sleep deprived eyes are kept open only by your wondrous actions.

Please don’t give up on me.

I promise I will not forget about you again.

The scent of your delightful beans linger in my cupboard
Bringing back the memory of that last cup we shared.

Thank you coffee.

For being my wake up call and my metaphorical matchsticks holding open my eyelids.

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Letting the tears flow

So, after last weeks Tuesday at ten post about letting go…I had a bit of a set back.
I talked of taking a metaphorical walk with my bunch of balloons of past pains.
But boy did ever open up the Pandora’s box of emotions.

I delved into my closed memory boxes too deeply and so many things poured out and I became overwhelmed.

Things that I don’t like to remember but don’t want to forget.

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August 2nd 2009

I had an early pregnancy miscarriage.

That date will live with me forever. I lost a piece of myself that day.

I clearly remember each moment as if it were yesterday…

I never got to cradle my lost baby.
Never got to hold them.

I felt a failure.
As though it was my fault that I lost our baby.

That day destroyed what little faith in myself that I had left.
There was essentially nothing left but a black hole.

Dwelling on this memory yesterday – that I don’t talk about let alone think about – caused me to breakdown.

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I spent a great deal of yesterday stewing in my own juices and not speaking out.

But not today.
Today I do not stew.

Today I am thankful.
I am thankful my blessings.
The 3 babies that I have been blessed with since my loss.

But I will always have 4 babies.

Today I am thankful for those who hug me without questioning my tears.
Today I am thankful for those who reach out to me without hesitation.

Today I am thankful that I still have the imprint of tiny feet in my heart.

Today I am thankful that I don’t have to suffer in my silent corner anymore.

It’s not a memory I plan to let go of.

I am thankful the faith in myself that is restoring each day.

I am thankful.

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Tuesday at ten – letting go

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Let it go.

Pretty sure when you read that phrase a certain song may have popped up in your head…sorry!

So much of that song resonates with me – but I don’t want to discuss frozen today.

I am not the type of person that can easily let go of things.

In fact I am pretty sure there are boxes all over my mind filled with things I just can’t let go of…

Sometimes I hold on so tightly I feel myself pulled along by my past..it leads me into feeling pain that I don’t want to feel anymore.

I feel as though I am surrounded by a weight that will not lift.
As though I hold on to a balloon filled with lead not air – so my pain cannot float away.
It weighs upon my heart and my mind.

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I need to let go of my metaphorical balloon.

Realise that I cannot change what has already happened.
Accept that my past doesn’t define who I am today, and that I don’t need to dwell on it.
To allow my wounds to heal…finally.

To discover that yes it may hurt to let go, but it has hurt me so much more holding on.

As I sit here typing this, I am dwelling.
I am looking back on things that have broken my heart, crushed my self confidence and destroyed my self esteem.
I sat in the car earlier recalling how it felt to have my friends turn their back on me.
One day I arrived at school to find they had all decided to pretend I didn’t exist.. I was 13.
I sat in my classroom listening to them talk about me, spewing words of hate..
I am almost 30 and I am still holding on to pain from my school years…I don’t consider this to be OK.

But I can’t let go.

But I am almost demanding myself to finally let go.

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Here’s my plan –
I am going to take a metaphorical walk.
I am going to write down each moment from my past that I am clutching onto (in my mind) and tie them to a bunch of balloons.

I will let go of that bunch of balloons.
I will watch my past float away.
I will move on from my sadness, pain and anger.

I will finally be happy.
I will finally be able to go on and not define myself from my past.

…and to quote Elsa –
I’m never going back, the past is in the past….let it go, let it go I’ll rise like the break of dawn.

Goodbye past, hello happy

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Inspirational women – activism

Hey beauties,

I would like to share some of my inspirational women this week – all strong and brave women.
Making an impact on the world.
Proving just how incredible women can be.

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This is Yeonmi Park.
A 22 year old north Korean defector and human rights activist – who now resides in South Korea with her mother.

I will admit I didn’t know much about Yeonmi – until I ordered her book off Amazon for my brother and decided to discover her story for myself.

Let me tell you – it makes for harrowing reading.
But she is very courageous to tell her story to the world.

She came from an educated and politically connected family, that during the economic crisis in the 1990’s turned to black market trading.
After her father was sent to a labour camp for smuggling, her family faced starvation.
Upon his release they escaped to China, where they fell into the hands of human traffickers – before managing to escape to Mongolia.

Today she is known for being an advocate for victims of human trafficking and is working for prompting human rights in North Korea and around the world.

In 2014 she grew to global prominence when delivering a heartfelt speech at the one young world 2014 summit in Dublin, Ireland – she gave a speech about her experiences escaping North Korea – it has been viewed around 2 million times on YouTube.

Brave. Strong. Courageous. True.

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Malala Yousafzai –

I think it is safe to say most of you will have heard of Malala.

She is an 18 year old Pakistani activist for female education and the youngest ever Nobel prize laureate.

In 2012, she was shot in the head by the Taliban – for speaking out about girls deserving an education.

This was an assassination attempt on her life.

After several days of being in a critical condition and unconscious – she was deemed well enough to be moved to the Queen Elizabeth hospital in Birmingham for further treatment and extensive rehabilitation.

In 2013, she delivered a speech at the UN – to allow worldwide access to education.
In 2015, Malala opened a school in Lebanon near the Syrian border for Syrian refugees.
The school is funded by the not for profit Malala fund – and offers education and training for girls aged 14 – 18.

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Her words are powerful, her strength inspiring.
Her bravery, incredible, her courage amazing.

She speaks for those too afraid to speak out and for those silenced by fear.
She speaks for those deserving of education and those deserving a place in the world.
Not to fear those who fear your words.

Malala – inspiring, strong, brave, honest, courageous.

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