Big Days.

"Anxiety focuses not around the issues themselves, but around the uncertainty of their outcome. And as we think about positive thoughts, we destroy anxiety around us just as a larger wave will remove a smaller wave."Unknown

* * *

"Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained."
Marie Curie

* * *

Some wise words from some very wise people, to get things started.
I'm sorry to leave you hanging on my Dietitian Doomsday! Without further adieu, I give you: nothing. Not a gram gained. But neither was a gram lost. I stayed, exactly the same weight. So in other words, I've maintained my weight. The scales say that that is not acceptable, and Rational Eleanor is telling me that the weight I am is not a weight I can healthily maintain, but the Irrational Eleanor (otherwise known as ED) thinks differently. As always, the battle of the voices rages its war in my head; one side glad, one side mad, and a neutral. In some ways, the neutral side is just as dangerous. Neither positively or negatively viewing the weight. Positive side: Yaaaay, no weight gain. Flip side: What, no weight gain, eating what you've been eating?
Positive side: Yaaaaay, no weight lost!Flip side: You failure! You complete and utter failure. You're so fat/gross, eating what you're eating, I'm so ashamed in you, you should be ashamed in yourself.Neutral: You didn't gain, you didn't lose. You're safe here, comfortable. You know what you're doing. Stay here.

This uncertainty is driving me absolutely insane. That's why I pulled out that quote (see above). It's so relevant. I get so pent up with anxiety, because I don't know what's going to happen. But regardless of what actually happens in my Dietitian appointment, I leave with mixed feelings. About my weight, about my life, about the urges and disordered thoughts and the thoughts about food... So many things come to mind and I don't know what to do with those thoughts. Bring a positive attitude to these situations can be benefitted from - unfortunately I can't find the strength to muster up any positivity. I know that the effort will be more than worth it, but somehow I'm almost, dare I say it, hesitant to find positivity? It's as if I don't want to find positivity, and I'd prefer to be down. It doesn't make any sense; all it's really doing is making me out to be a self-pittying, attention-seeking neorotic. Of all things, I don't want to seem like I'm crying out for someone to feel sorry for me. I hate pity. I don't want to be pittied. So why do I continue to let ED hold me so tightly in this blanket of misery?

Well, as you're all probably aware, tomorrow is Monday. And Monday means The First Day Of School. Needless to say, today has been a less than enjoyable day. I think I am so organised that I'm completely unorganised. I'm not normally an organised person, so me making an effort to be organised is... Well, rare, and cause for celebration.
I have this need to be organised. I need structure. I need a routine. I can't have uncertainty. I can't be caught off guard or unprepared. This is the disorder in me, the perfectionistic tendencies, the need for order. It's getting to the point where regardless of how "organised" I am and how "in order" I am, I'm going to fall into a heap because I've set my expectations way too high and set such unattainable goals for myself.

+ What I need is to accept that there will be times when I can't know what's going to happen, there'll be things I'm not prepared for. There will be things I don't know and things I can't do, and I have to accept that. I'm not perfect, no one is perfect, and just because I can't do a certain thing or be a certain person, doesn't mean I am a failure.
+ What I need is confidence. What I need is to persist, even when I'm finding things hard.

Marie Curie is right. Life is not easy, for any of us. I'll be struggling just as much as the next person, but I'll also be excelling as much as the next person, if I have confidence in myself and persevere. Nothing is going to just come to be, I'm going to have to go and look for it. I'm going to have to go and get it.

The harder things in life to attain are the things worth fighting for.

Challenges aren't meant to be easy. If they were easy, they wouldn't be challenges.
I'm not going to get everything right, all the time. But that doesn't mean I'll never get anything right.

That doesn't just apply for school, it applies for tackling my Eating Disorder, too. Recovery isn't easy, but that doesn't mean it isn't possible to achieve. Perseverance is key. I will not fail. I'll fall occasionally, but I have the strength to get back up and keep going. We all do. We all have the strength to keep pushing forward. It's not going to be easy, but all the hard work we put in will be worth it.

Tomorrow, I am going to look at things in a positive light. Or at least... I wont look at things negatively. That's better than nothing, right? We can only do as much as we can, and so that's what I'll do. I'll do as much as I can, with as much as I've got, and I'll be as confident as possible. Knowing that I have you lovely girls behind me gives me the confidence to keep going.
Thank you, all.

love, love, love.

Life is what we make it, so let's make it something special.

Words mean things.

Words, words, words.
Sometimes they come freely, other times they don't. Usually when I need them most, they manage to find a nice little hidey-hole inside my head and refuse to come out. They also shy away when I try to say how thankful I am to have such amazing people in my life.
Thank-you's are the hardest things of all to say, after goodbye's. I cannot, and will not ever be able to express my appreciation for the kindness and support you have all shown me. Waking up in the morning to an inbox full of heart-warming messages has the ability to set the mood for the day. Whenever I feel like my confidence, happiness and positivity is slipping, I turn to your words.
It is utterly incredible how much a few written sentences has the power to turn a tearful sob into a tearful smile. Without you girls, I dread to think and refuse to think of where I would be.
Alright, enough of the sappy Eleanor!

What is also utterly incredible is how an appointment has the power to turn a weekend into a nightmare. Tomorrow is Saturday. And Saturday is Dietitian DoomsDay. This week has been crazy in the lead up to school, and knowing that the Saturday before school returns is the day I have to step on the scales, well... It doesn't "set the right mood" for the weekend, if you know what I mean. The word relaxation doesn't come to mind. Way to end a week-end.
Ah, crap. I'm being cynical. When I'm in a bad mood my sarcasm takes centre stage. My sacrastic words have the ability to make walls crumble and hearts break... And tearducts weep.

As always, the days preceding my Dietitian appointment are full of anxiety. My eating gets thrown around - recently I've been cutting out foods, then trying to make up for them later on, then feeling bad about it, then freaking out because I think I ate too much, then cutting out later... A cycle, and a vicious one. I hate having to be weighed, and that number dictating in which direction my life goes. I want it to be up, so that nothing else is added to my meal plan, but I dont want to be up, because that feeling of "fat" is just overwhelming. Rational Eleanor is trying to sooth the Panicked Eleanor. The ED-Eleanor is trying to disrupt the Rational-Eleanor and abusing the Eleanor Eleanor. There are too many people in my head, when there should be just one.

I'm sick and tired of having these voices shouting at me, and I'm sick and tired of fighting with myself. I'm also sick and tired of the pressure and expectation being put on me to "just gain weight" and to "just get better". If it was that easy, I wouldn't be in this situation!

I don't really know where my words are taking me right now. My head is full of everything at the moment and sorting it out would take too long. So, I will leave you with a bit of an email I recieved from a friend of mine that I met on my stay in hospital. It really put me in a positive frame of mind.

We don't deserve to be miserable! We deserve to eat wonferful food without a voice telling us that we are fat or that we have to exercise now to work it off, because we "don't deserve it". We should appreciate what we have of life because we never know when our time will be up. Why let an illness kill us when we can prevent it? Yes, it is a hard and long process, but we will get there! We will be happy and healthy!
We can support each other, but in the end it is down to us, individually, to kick its ass!
Nobody, nobody deserves to live like this, so let's beat this.
Together we will STAND TALL and say "WE BEAT ANOREXIA".

Dietitian DoomsDay tomorrow. But what happens, happens, and I can only move onward and upward from there.

Let's stand tall, let's fight. Let's beat anorexia.

love, love, love.

Crunch Time.

I kinda wanted crunchy cereal drenched in soy milk for dinner. It's the first time in a while I've had a craving for something, but unfortunately I didn't - couldn't - follow through with it. So now I'm stuck with a bowl of mush I don't really want and am not really enjoying, but eating nonetheless. Who said this was fun?

{source}

Stress levels are at an all time high at the moment. My mind is everywhere and nowhere, and ED is happily filling in the gaps. It's been a crazy couple of days, and things are going to get so much crazier. I can feel it. You know when you have one of those gut feelings? It's one of them.

{source}

Day One of the rest of my life starts on Monday: school. The first day of school for 2010 could seriously be my last day of school for the rest of my life. That's just how bad I'm panicking about it. Year 11 and Year 12 are two of the most important years of schooling - they're the two years that will set me on my path to wherever I want to go in the future. The thing is, I don't know where I want to go. I don't know where I want this path to take me. I don't even know who I really am. Shouldn't I be starting there? I have interests, but I have so many interests that trying to figure out a career choice is impossible.
There is so much responsibility entering my life now, because of school, and because I'm nearing adulthood - I'm not even trusted to be responsible for my food, how am I going to fare with the responsibilities of school, and of adulthood? After being babied for so long and being ignorant of these responsibilities, having them just dumped on me has left me in a state of bewilderment and shock. I'm dazed, dumbfounded and completely and utterly lost.

{source}

Being pushed out of my comfort zone, having my safety blanket being torn away from me and having my box cave in on me is upping that feeling of being lost, too. Everything that could happen, is happening, all at once. I'm being thrown in the deep end without a life jacket; nothing is there to keep me afloat except for my constant water-treading. And honestly, I'm not the strongest of swimmers, so I'm going to tire pretty quickly.
Having the responsibility of eating my lunch and morning snack is giving me nightmares. EDdie's little, "innocent" voice gently whispering in my ear that no one's going to know, Ellie... You can get away with this... Hey, since when do you get to call me Ellie!? And since when did I ask for your input, ED? This baby-talk, this gentleness... It's weakening me, and the hard-ass Eleanor is trying to reason with the push-over Eleanor.

...My mind is everywhere and nowhere, like I said.

In other news, Eleanor went and got a haircut today! Just on a whim. I walked out of there with a crazy smile on my face - the girl that hacked away at my strands was awesome, but... I didn't have just one person paying me their attention, I had five. Yes, five people were surrounding me while I was having my hair cut. A boy was next to us, cutting an older woman's hair, and he noticed my piercings [I have... A few ;) ] so he came over and we had a conversation about that. Then he went and got another girl who loved piercings too, and she started talking to me. Then a girl I knew came over, and the group became five (including me). Before you know it, another had come over and they were all fussing over my hair. It was the single most hilarious thing that's happened to me all holidays (all eight weeks of them), and I found myself enjoying the social encounters. Usually I'm extremely shy, and even moreso now thanks to the 'dark cloud' hovering over me, but I really did step out into the sunlight today. I was Eleanor again. I felt like Eleanor would have felt, and it was amazing.

{source}

I found this quote thatI wanted to share with you all. I wrote it in my diary, because it was just so relevant at the time, and is so relevant now.

"For I dipped into the future,
far as the human eye could see,
Saw the vision of the world,
and all the wonder that would be."

love, love, love.

Living Dead... Ranger?

Two hours of sleep.
In 48 hours.
This is what it must feel like to be a zombie.
Oh, wait. I am a zombie.

Last night was supposed to be an awesome night. It was supposed to be a night that I could forget about everything and just be Eleanor, with no attachments, no clingers-on, no invading thoughts. Last night I spent the night at boy-crush's house, and while it was great, it wasn't great great. We watched violent movies, inappropriate movies and movies that made me cry/laugh/angry/happy/sad/furious/crazy/want-to-drink-so-much-beer (which I didn't mind you, it was just in the movie!). I spent time with someone I loved, I slept in his bed (no, nothing happened!) and I stayed up until 4 in the morning, by his side the whole night. But someone else was by my side the whole night, too. And all morning. And throughout the remainder of the day.
I got up, and I looked in the cupboards for something to have for breakfast. ED took complete advantage of the opportunity to skip, so I cut up and apple and had that. No, I didn't have the strength to eat "different bread", or "different cereal", to what I am used to. I wanted to have the strength to do it, but I failed, and I am so disappointed in myself because of it. I copped out. To make matters worse, I did it at morning snack, too. ED prayed on my vulnerable state and decided to cop out on having my usual snack, which I'd brought along with me. Something strange did happen, though. I had a bit of a turn around when I came home. I got picked up relatively early, and I still had my snack in my bag. All through the morning, ED was taunting me with it. "It's there... Waiting... but you can't have it. But you could have it... You just wont. Will you? No, you wont. No one will know! This is good!" Finally, it got too much, and when I came home, I whipped out my snack and started eating it, but ED jumped in half way through... Needless to say, only half a snack was consumed.
I missed out on my supplement drink at breakfast because I couldn't bring it (it's in powder form), and ED was rejoicing about that, too. But at lunch time, I asked my Mum to make up my drink (that I was goign to have with lunch anyway) to sort of make up for my missed breakfast supplement. Then I said "Mum, put three scoops in, instead of two. That'll make up for some of what I missed out on."
I guess the guilt was sort of playing up in me, rising up against ED. My conscience was trying to make an appearance, and that amazed me! So that was a bit of a turn-around.

I know I'm rambling, but today wasn't what it was supposed to be. ED was big. ED was strong. ED is still big, and ED is still strong, right now. Dinner was half-assed, so was afternoon snack. All in all, today has been a bad day. I'm feeling so... Well, conflicted. I feel guilty, but then ED makes me feel guilty for feeling guilty. I feel ashamed, then ED makes me feel ashamed for feeling ashamed. ED tries to tell me that today was a good day, that my "non-breakfast" was a good choice... ED was trying to comfort me, and I've been swaying towards it and away from it. Like I'm on a swing. I go up... Then back... up... then back... A pendulum. I'm not settling anywhere, I just keep bouncing off bad and good.

Today's been a fight between Good and Evil, and I'm somewhere in the middle. Or rather, I'm the something in the middle that Good and Evil are fighting for. Which in other circumstances might be flattering. But when I'm fighting with myself, over myself, the only thing I can call this is Hell.

To be honest, I don't really even know what I'm saying. ED's dictated my food choices today, and ED's pretty much been in my every thought today. Although my eats haven't been near good enough, I've eaten a lot of fruit. And ED's been playing up in that department."You've been eating all day. You haven't stopped eating. You failure..." Yada-yada-ya. I haven't done any form of physical activity today either, and the "fat" thoughts are starting to strengthen. I can feel them welling up inside and at some point they're going to have to find a way out. Anxiety is on the rise, too. Tomorrow I'm spending a few hours at a friend's "Birthday Brunch", which yes, means food. Cue ED's uproar. "So much food that you can't eat."

I really don't know what I'm doing, what I'm saying, or what I should do. My confidence, self-esteem and self-worth have been stomped into the ground. They are where ED should be, and believe me, I want nothign more than to stomp ED so far into the ground  so that there's no chance of him ever seeing the light of day again. So that there's no chance of him taking hold of my heart, so that there's no chance of him taking control of my mind, so that there's no chance of him abusing my body.
I want this to be over. But I also feel to weak to do anything about it. My mind is tired. It wants to rest. I want to rest. But if I rest, I know ED will take over me completely. So in a way, I am the living dead. I'm only ever half-sleeping, because the other half of me is trying to stay on guard, keeping me safe from attacks. But the exhaustion is overwhelming sometimes and I lose total control, and the feeling when ED takes control is almost one of relief.

Oh, girls, I am so sorry. I look back on what I've written and I am so deeply shamed. I need to get it out, I need to voice it. But it hurts to do so, because I almost don't want to admit to these awful things. I feel so useless, but that feeling of uselessness (a word?) is also somewhat a motivator. I hate being useless... And what counteracts uselessness? Being useful! I'm going to help my body, I'm going to help my mind, I'm going to help my heart. And that equals nourishing my body, to nourish my mind, to nourish my heart.
...I'm getting a real weird Power Rangers feeling at the moment... But you know how they can all "Unite" and become one? Well, I guess that's what I'm saying. I'm going to unite all the separate pieces of me, of Eleanor, and I am going to work them in sync. I'm going to

make me one again.

Real Power Rangers moment, there.
I think they call this an Epiphany. Or a half-epiphany. Oh well, anything will do for now!

love, love, love.

"Honesty Is The Best Policy".

Being able to put your trust in someone is vital if you're serious about your relationship with that person. And likewise, they have to be able to put their trust in you for the relationship to be a sound, solid one. It's not a one-way street, and that's something I've really been trying to remind myself of lately, because trust and honesty is something I've really been having issues with, lately.

Most of us are brought up knowing that "telling the truth" is very important, and lying is not acceptable. It's bad, and it's punished. Rightly so! You wouldn't want to be friends with a liar, you wouldn't want to be friends with someone you couldn't trust, right? Of course not. Some people easily trust others, and some have issues with trust. They're both absolutely acceptable - it all depends on the person you are and the experiences you've had. But when it comes to trusting yourself, well, that's when things get messy.

Every day I wake up knowing I'll have to face the monster in my head. Every day I have to face the abuse, the taunts, the persuasions, the sick, self-loathing thoughts. Waking up to that every day, and going through that every day, for too many days, has slowly started to whittle away at my self respect. And in having my level of self respect depleted, my level of honesty and truthfulness has hit an all time low, too. Not just to others, but to myself.

This is the first of my philosophical Eleanor in a while. This train of thought was sparked by this morning's happenings. I got up early, as per-usual, did my daily morning yoga, and started to get my breakfast ready. No one is up at the hour I'm up, so this is my "me" time, whatever that is. Anyway, I ate my breakfast while blog reading (as per-usual!) and once I'd finished, I sat there for a few minutes. Then I did something completely out of the ordinary. I got up, put my hand in a cereal box I've never eaten before, and put some flakes into the bowl. Not many, but a small handful nonetheless. Then I poured some soymilk over them, sat back down at the computer, and ate it.
...What did you just do!? You didn't need that! You've got to cut something out of your meal plan today! You're going to get so fat, so huge, look at you, you're disgusting.

Yep! Cue ED roaring. But that's not the most important part. The most important part of this is, after my Mum got up and made her breakfast, I went and stood out the back with her. And I told her what I'd done:
Me: I did something I don't normally do.
Mum: Mmm? What's that?
Me: After I finished my breakfast, I went back, and I got some more.
Mum: ...*crickets chirp*...

...She didn't say a word. She did not say one thing to me about it. Actually, she didn't say anything at all. I waited, shifting my weight from one leg to the other, waiting for her to say something. But she didn't. She didn't even look at me.
I told her the truth. I was honest with her. It was... God, it was so hard for me to admit to that, because again abuse was hurled at me from ED's direction. But I told her, I was true and honest with her, despite how scary it was and despite how much it hurt. Little did I know I'd be hurt so much more after being ignored by her.
It's nearing 6 in the afternoon now, and still Mum hasn't said anything to be about it. Of all people, I would have though Mum would understand. I thought of all people, Mum would be proud of me, and tell me she was proud. But she didn't. I am so angry at her, so angry. She didn't and doesn't acknowledge anything I do. She never congratulates me or tells me she's proud. It makes me feel like I'm a failure. That I should just "be better", "be normal".

I'm having trouble keeping my emotions at bay. I was extremely hurt this morning and yeah... I did cry. I haven't been able to mention anything to her, because I know she'll just get mad at me. I keep thinking I've done something wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have had that extra cereal. Maybe it was bad, wrong, stupid. ED's holding onto that and now I'm not so sure that there's any other explanation. I don't want to believe that what I did was wrong, but after Mum's reaction all I'm able to feel is regret, not pride. I know I was nourishing my body, by giving that extra fuel, just on a whim, just because. But rationality and logic aren't playing big in my head at the moment. ED's taken advantage of the weakened state of my mind and keeping me firmly in his painful grasp.
"You don't need to be honest with anyone, now. No one's going to believe you, anyway. Why not just lie, pretend, no one will know. Your Mum didn't believe you, because no one trusts you. But you can't trust them, either. They're not honest with you.. Sneaking extra into your meals, giving you more... Lying to you. Don't trust them."

ED's playing my parents against me, and I'm afraid that now I'll start doing the same.
But Eleanor, the wise one, the rational one, the logical one, the real owner of this body, keeps telling me that being honest is so important. Regardless of the outcome, it will make me feel better, knowing that I've told the truth.

Now the biggest part is to trust myself. Pushing ED out of the limelight and concentrating on Eleanor. It's a constant fight for attention, but I know who I need to listen to. I know who I need to trust. That's Eleanor. I need to trust Eleanor.

love, love, love.

Whoever makes it through this will recieve a medal.

My heart is in a flutter and my stomach is doing flips. My insides are, in a word, doing gymnastics. Fluttering hearts are usually caused by a special someone, you know, the one you get goo-goo-eyed over, the one who makes you weak at the knees, the one that's on your mind more often than is deemed normal. Same goes for the tummy butterflies.

Yes, that is partly why my organs are dancing. I'm being visited in less than an hour by a boy who has my heart, but unfortunately

1) is too stupid to realize that and

2) considers me a "best mate".
Oh, and 3) probably wouldn't be a good idea for me to "be" with him, anyway.
I need someone who has half a brain, let's just say.

Anyway. That is partly the reason for my heart in my throat and my stomach in my chest. (Imagine that... Wait, no, please don't.) The other reasons are not so ooey-gooey.

Next week, on the 1st of February, my life changes. A whole new lifestyle, a whole new environment, a whole new world, in a sense. The 1st of February is my first day as a Year 11 student, and to say the least, I am freaking out of my mind. The concept of "new", "change", "different". It terrifies me. I don't want to change, I don't want anything new, I don't want different. I like this consistency I've built up. I want to stay the same, where I'm comfortable. Comfort doesn't come into the equation, unfortunately. I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for the work-load, the stress, the anxiety, the exams, the expectations. And in trying to prepare myself for that, I'm becoming even more terrified and more unprepared that ever. Everyone: my parents, my teachers (from last year), my friends, my Dietician and Therapist all think I'll benefit from it so much, and that I'll be fine. It's a shame I'm not on the same wave length, because I believe the total opposite.

Rationally I know that if all I do is think negatively about my school year, the outcome will be negative. But that's the thing; rationality has deserted me for the moment and irrational thoughts have taken up residence in my head.

I'm going to be surrounded by so many people that I don't know. What am I going to say to them? What are they going to think of me? I get the feeling I'm going to be picked apart. That I have to be a certain person to fit the criteria of what's deemed "acceptable" and what's "not acceptable". I want to fit in, but the only way I'll be able to fit in, in ED's books, is if I'm skinny. The only way I'll ever get anywhere in life is if I'm skinny enough. What even is skinny enough!?
= Social isolation has caused me to crawl in on myself.

At school, my days start at 9am and wind up at 3:35pm. That means Morning Snack and Lunch are in my hands. It's down to me whether I eat them or not. Having that burden over my head is weighing me down so much that my nose is almost scraping the ground. ED's voice is squashing my face flat. "Don't eat, don't eat, don't eat. No one will know! You don't need it! You'll get fat. People will think you're fat! Dirty! Disgusting!" It's taking all of my energy to drive those thoughts out of my head - the expectation being put on me is huge, and I want to be able to do it, I want to be able to trust myself to get through my day without throwing out food and lying to my parents. In lying to my parents I'm lying to myself. Cheating myself. I need to be able to trust myself. I can't afford not to. How do I expect to get anywhere in life when I can't trust myself?

And that's a whole 'nother problem. Life. Where is my life going? Where am I being lead? Where am I leading myself?

I have absolutely no idea what direction I want to take. I have so many interests that I wind up with absolutely no clue in what I'm really passionate about. I could do this or I could do that or I could do this and that... Confusion, anxiety, uncertainty and an unimaginable amount of stress is cramming itself against the walls of my brain, and I'm afraid of what will happen when it all gets too much.

I know school is going to be stressful. I know I'm going to be overwhelmed. And I know that I've got help from so many people. But I keep questioning how exactly I'm going to cope with it, regardless of all the help and support I'll have. The uncertainty is what is killing me most of all. All of this knowing is useless because I just don't know what's going to happen. I need to know, I need it to feel secure. Without consistency I can't function, and this year is going to be anything but consistent.
And on top of all of this, ED is woven itself into the tapestry that is and will be my life.

My greatest fear is that, under all of this pressure, stress and anxiety, I'll relapse.

I'm trying, so damn hard, to keep that thought out of my head. "It's not going to happen", I keep telling myself. But there's the "what if, what if, what if..." whispered softly into my ear, constantly. I can’t get rid of it. It’s the mark of ED, and I know this. I also know that the only way to get rid of these thoughts is to prove them wrong. But again, the what if’s play their soft little tune and I’m lulled into a waking nightmare, one that I can’t escape from.

I cannot stand being so negative, but I've worked myself up into this tight little ball of anxiety and my will to move forward is dwindling. I've almost reached the point of wanting to just curl up into my box and be comforted by what I know, and is safe.
But Eleanor knows that that lifestyle isn't safe. The only way I'll ever be confident and sure of myself is if I crush that box. I can't afford to lose more of my life to ED. I've got so much ahead of me, so much. I don't want to waste my life on something that only hurts me.

I'm sorry to be so down at the moment, my beautiful girls.
It's you that get me through my days, you know? Your support, your kind, heartfelt words. I've never felt anything as strong and powerful as this, and without you... Well, I don't want to think about that.

You give me confidence, when I lack it. I can't thank you all enough for the love, life and spirit you've brought into my life.

Our path is a long one, but it doesn't have to be a lonely one.
Let's walk it together.

love, love, love.

Acceptance.

I have to say, I'm quite relieved to hear I'm not the only one who can't sleep at night without a teddy bear sleeping by my side! Who needs ED when we can snuggle up to a nice, warm, cute, cuddly teddy bear?
Teddies make no judgements; they don't care what you look like, how much you weight, what you eat, what you wear; they will catch your tears when you're sad and snuggle up when you're in need of a hug; they will comfort you when you need comforting; you can take them anywhere, and they're there whenever you need them; they will listen to you when you talk, and hear you out; and best of all, you can "make" them love you!
Oh, inanimate objects are such wonderful things. Teddies offer so much more than what an ED ever promises.

I've been having trouble recently, coming to terms with and accepting my body's changes. I know they're coming, I know it's inevitable, but regardless of the endless efforts to convince myself that it's okay and that I need it, I can't accept them. I am constantly beating myself up over how I look - and for what? What do I get out of abusing myself? I get angry, I get miserable, I cry and I hurt and I hate. I don't want these feelings and thoughts. I don't want to put my mind and my body through these things - all the effort that goes into berating and belittling mysef could be used for good. Why waste so much effort on putting myself down when I could be using that effort to better and nourish myself? It's continuing to stump me. I'm left confused, puzzled, and upset.
I'm putting so much pressure on myself to want to get better than I'm scaring myself out of wanting to get better. Fuel for the disorder, draining for me, my mind and my body.

Working myself up into emotional sweats about how I appear physically is doing nothing for my already depleted supply of self-esteem and self-confidence. I'm not viewing my body as it truly is: a vessle. I've mentioned this before, but I think it'll do me good to revisit this.
Our bodies are beautiful things.  How we look is just the outer layer, the external. What it does is truly what is beautiful. We breathe, we blink, we move, we talk, we hug, we hold, we kiss, we touch, we taste, we feel, we hear, we see, we do, we live. Our bodies take us from place to place, and allow us do to the things, experience the things and be part of the things that we love. Why do we neglect them, the beautiful things they are, when they give us so much? When they give us everything?
Why can't we accept our bodies for the beautiful things they are, and love them for the things they do?
Every day I try to appreciate my body for what it is, but the negative connotations towards "recovery" and "weight gain" swim around in my head and stop me from loving it. Acceptance is so important, but I feel like there's no point in accepting my body for how it looks now when I know that I've still got a way to go. That's not how I should be looking at this, though. I need to accept me for who I am; body, mind, heart and soul. The only way to beat the body image issues is to rationalize them, and to constantly remind myself that I am beautiful, just the way I am.

I can't change the way I was born. I'm me, and that's all I'm ever going to be. I'm Eleanor. And Eleanor deserves to have a healthy and happy life, free from the thoughts that keep her locked away and out of sight. Every day is a day worth fighting for, and every day is a chance to strip a little more of that darkness away to reveal what lies beneath: me.
I might not be familiar with or know who I am at the moment, but I know that I'm so much more than this Eating Disorder.
I've lost enough because of this already, and I don't want to lose any more. I want my life back, and I'll fight for it.

There is so much more I want to say, but these things are beyond words. Maybe I'll never fully understand the thoughts in my head, but maybe I don't have to. Maybe my questions don't have answers, or maybe I already have the answers. Some things I'll never know; but the one thing I'm certain of is that this is not my life. My life holds so much more meaning than what this Eating Disorder will ever have me believe. My life is worth living, and an Eating Disordered life is not worth my time, attention and effort.

 "We must accept life for what it actually is -- a challenge to our quality without which we should never know of what stuff we are made, or grow to our full stature."

"Self-acceptance comes from meeting life's challenges vigorously.
Don't numb yourself to your trials and difficulties, nor build mental walls to exclude pain from your life.
You will find peace not by trying to escape your problems, but by confronting them courageously.
You will find peace not in denial, but in victory."

a little inspiration.


love, love, love.

Ahoy there!

No, I haven't abandoned ship! The happenings of my life really haven't been worth reporting on, and although I love waking up to your comments each morning, I didn't want to disappoint you all with my boring drivle. So, I spared you that!

Recently, I have been floundering around a bit, unsure of where to go. Treading water (what is it with my references to the sea and pirates!?) is getting tiring, and I'm beginning to wonder how long I'll be able to just tread water like this before I completely exhaust myself and sink. Being in one position for a little while can be a bit of a relief, as it's a way of making sure your bearings are strong and true and the direction you're going is on course. But when things become stagnant, every direction could be a possible course, and it all becomes too much. You could go this way, but you could also go that way. Or maybe even there. Too many options present themselves, and it's impossible to choose, it's impossible to determine which one is the right course to take.

Having been the backseat driver of my own life for much too long is also beginning to take its toll. Now that I'm so used to not having to make my own decisions, when I have the chance to make a choice for myself I become lost, and revert to what is 'comfortable', which is EDs choice. A ratted, tattered, torn and worn security blanket that I keep myself wrapped around, no matter how rank it is, no matter how scratchy and itchy and uncomfortable it is. It's sort of like the teddy bear you were attached to as a child. Yeah, a leg might have fallen off or one of its eyes is missing, but you love it, undone stitches and all, because it's always been there. A faithful companion, in good times and bad. Mum shout at you? You grab Teddy. Don't want a bath? Get Teddy. Leaving to go for a walk? Teddy! Scared? You get Teddy. Teddy equals comfort, Teddy gives you company, Teddy provides love and care and Teddy listens. Teddy is always there. You weren't just you. You were [insert name here]+Teddy. Maybe even your parents refered to you as a combined force. You were never without Ted, and Ted was never without you.

Now, I'm not at all saying ED is at all like the childhood joy of stuffed toys, but in some respects they're alike. When it was time for you to "move on" from Teddy, you cried and cried and cried, because you were being seperated from the thing that meant most to you, the thing that you had become attached to. But slowly, after time, you grew out of Ted, became a little more independant, and you found comfort and solace in other things.
Yes, you were at first distraught after being seperated, but the initial pain of that seperation wore off. Would it be fair to say that in this case, ED is like Ted? Could we possibly use this as proof that we can move on from ED, and become ourselves, instead of You+T/ed?

I apologise if this doesn't make much sense, but because I have so much in my head at the moment, I followed along with the first thing that came to mind.
Expect a lot of these!


It really is time for me to stop treading water, because sooner or later I'll drown. Blunt, but true. In order to overcome my fears of the future, I have to move forward and in to my future. A fear, of anything, won't just go away. A fear has to be dealt with, otherwise it will sit there. It will sit there, and stew, and manifest itself into something much worse than it started out being.
The longer you leave it the harder it is to deal with.

I might be uncertain, I might be scared, but the only way out is up, and the only way up is up. And that begins and ends with me. ED might plague my thoughts and disguise what I want with what he wants, but the more I listen to myself when I can hear myself, the less power ED will eventually have over me, and the control will be in my hands, where it ought to be.

I'm not going to do this right, all the time and every time, but the more I try, the more strength will be gained, the more I learn and the more I begin to see what truly lies ahead of me, past all the darkness and misery of this unlife.

It's time to take a stand. I'm stubborn, by nature. This stubborness can be channeled into a healthy stubborness. Nothing, nothing, can get past me, if I put my foot down.
Let's do it together. Let's put both feet down, and stand up for ourselves; let's stand up for what is right.

With our cutlasses drawn and our pistols locked and loaded, we'll make ED walk the plank and send 'im to the depths of Davy Jones' Locker!


love, love, love.
Arrrrr.

Sigh-Of-Relief Saturday.

All together now... And *sigh*.

I did the usual Eleanor thing, and overreacted. Partly due to ED, partly due to the fact that I am, always have been and forever will be, a worry-wart. Self-diagnosed, of course, but it's quite obvious. I work myself up, consciously and subconsciously, into a nervous, nailbiting state, complete with bouncing up and down on my chair. And all for nothing!
As I unwillingly stepped on the scale this morning, my mind was buzzing at a hundred miles and second, ED's voice was blasting its way through my head and pounding me with threats to make my life a complete and utter misery if I've gained. But wait! ED already has made my life a complete and utter misery! Well, as the numbers settled, and as my body, without my permission, tensed up into a knot, my mind sort of hit a brick wall. After going at a hundred miles a second, hitting a brick wall stops you with amazing force. Imagine that. Only times about 66875154654. Yes. I was in complete and utter shock.
...I maintained.
Cue ED going AWOL, cue Mum and Dad going "Huh! I told you so..." and cue me staring at my Nutritionist with a dumb-founded look. What? Maintained? What? No! I can't have! I've gained weight! I had to have! What about all of this body mass, all of this "fat" feeling? No! This doesn't make sense! 

I was clinging to something, anything. Maintaining, however, is better than losing, and I've convinced myself of that. ED can go chew an old sock, for all I care - I am not a failure, and no one will make me believe otherwise. I am not fat, and ED can't make me believe that, either. This is my body telling me I'm doing okay, but I need more. I haven't really been upped in much. I just have to have some form of calorie-dense(ish) drink instead of my usual thirty-seven cups of tea. Not all of them, though! Just an extra drink, be it milk, juice, or some other form of calorie-d drink. Which I can do. Which ED can't make me feel bad for having. Which ED can't convince me I don't need and refuse to have. I need it, and DAMNIT all, I will have it.

{ source }

We each have a stairway that we've all been too afraid to walk up. It's a very long stairway, but nonetheless, after the first few steps we become scared of the nearing light. This stairway, though, does lead to somewhere special. At the top, after that very last, final step, is the place we deserve to be. The place we once were, but unfortunately we were pushed down the stairway, and that's scared us from getting back on it and walking it again. The emotional, psychological fear of that stairway stops us from wanting to get back on it. But those first few initial steps have been taken, and yes, we may find ourselves stuck on one for a while, but we have the strength to take another, and another. The closer we come to the end of the stairs, the more we can see into our special somewhere, and the more we realize how much we were missing out on. There will be rickety stairs, sticky stairs, creaky stairs, slippery stairs and seemingly un-steppable stairs - we might step back one or two paces at times, but we have the strength to get back up. All of these stairs is significant, each and every step we take is a step closer to our "home", each and every step we take is a step further away from the dark and miserable place we were pushed down in to.

And the best thing? There's no door we have to open, no key we have to find to unlock it. No Alice In Wonderland doors that talk, that are too big or too small or locked or jammed or stubborn. We just... Step through the doorway, and in to the light.

And the rest is history. A history worth making. A history we will look back on and think "Wow, I really did myself proud."
Yes, that stairway will always be there. But another great thing? Once we're in our special somwhere, we have the ability to place a door in that doorway, lock it and throw away the key.
We can do that because it is us that is in control. It is our life we are living. Not a shell of a life that ED is destroying.

I want to thank you, each and every one of you, for the unbelievable amount of support you gave me. Without you all, I simply wouldn't have been able to get through the day as well as I did. Your words of kindness, your encouragement, your beautiful compliments and your undying, unflailing belief in my spirits up higher than I thought imaginable. I was, and still am, overwhelmed by the love I recieved.
Thank you, thank you all, from the bottomless bottom of my heart. I love you all with such intensity, and I can honestly say that my life would not be the same without you. You have helped to mould me into the girl I am becoming again. You are all a part of my life, and you forever will be.


love, love, love.
...times a billion and one.

And The Rules Are...

...There are no rules!

Living life under guidelines, restrictions, codes, oaths, rules, whatever... is not living. Having to do certain things, and not do other things, takes the fun out of, well, everything. The rules we've set up in our minds, they serve no purpose. The only thing we are achieving by following these rules is an unhappy, unhealthy lifestyle, devoid of anything remotely enjoyable.
Don't do this, don't do that. Do this, do that. Or else!
Or else what, though? What would happen if we were to bend the rules, or completely ignore them? What would really happen? Would we... Lose? But lose what? Lose control? We have no control. We are being controlled. These rules we've set up are what is controlling us. ED's voice is being spoken through these rules.

Rules are different to laws. Laws are written down in a book, and they are there for legal, moral and ethical reasons. Rules, however, aren't so important. Sure, there are the sensible ones like "Don't run by the pool" or "Be quiet in the Library", but that's common sense. Rules are much simpler - they're put in place to ensure that there is order and control - no confusions, no disruptions, no disfunction. The rules we put in place, though, aren't common sense rules, they don't have any sort of "order" about them at all. Hence, Disordered Eating. Our rules disrupt the order of our lives, creating disorder and disfuncion and loss of control, in our minds, our brains, our bodies, our emotions and our mentality. We aren't functioning, we don't have order. The rules we put in place to have "control" have been severely misinterpreted; we lost the control we were trying to gain.

I'm probably blabbering, but this issue has been on my mind a lot, lately. I am, as always, in two minds about the gaining weight business. (The inevitable gaining weight business, might I add.) My upcoming Nutritionist appointment on Saturday (after a month of not seeing her) has triggered these conflicting thoughts and now, unfortunately, I'm on a downward spiral. The one part of me wants to gain weight, so I can start getting my life back together and stop having to go to theseNutrition appointments. The other part of me doesn't want to gain weight, as it's seen as a failure. These two conflicting thoughts are so, so similar, that I honestly can't determine which voice is mine and which is not. It is almost as if the two thoughts are one, the two voices are one. Slowly, I'm becoming more intrenched in this Disorder, and losing Eleanor.
That's where the whole order and control comes into it. This is Eleanor's mind, Eleanor's body, Eleanor's life. So, one would assume that I can control these negative thoughts and order them away, instead of being controlled and ordered by them. An incorrect assumption, sadly. If only it was that easy.

I was supposed to have a Therapy session today, but I didn't end up going to see my Therapist. Instead, I had a sort-of therapy appointment at home, with my Dad. The conversation I had with him could not have gone any better. And that, in all honesty, shocked me. Everything I said, was everything I was going to say in Therapy. Everything I wanted was everything I got. And that has blown me away.
In my previous post, (I think?) I talked about not being listened to or understood by my parents. But I could not have been more off the mark. Dad said something to me that brought a whole fresh, new, salty batch of tears around... Tissue boxes are good to have on hand in moments like these. (Snotty and gross, I know.)

Without further adiue, what Papa Bear said:

"This disorder reminds me of the Abusive Spouse situation."
(I was dumb-founded at this. My head screamed "He understands!")
"You're in a relationship, and you love your partner, regardless of the pain, both physically and mentally, they bring to you. You become dependent on them. You become a part of them, and they a part of you. The thought of leaving them has crossed your mind but it scares you too much to ever think of again, as you can't comprehend your life without them. You put up with their abuse because it's you, it's your life."

Of course, he said this in a much more proper, understandable way. But that was the main gist of it. Now, girls... What was that I was saying about my parents not understanding me...?
I can't put in to words how much this helped me. Obviously it hasn't just made everything better - ED is still here and still in every corner, every nook and cranny - but it has definitely helped immensely. My Dad knows, in his own way. Of course he doesn't understand exactly what goes on in my head, but that's a given. It's that he can compare it to something that I myself have compared it to!

Today, I've probably confused you, and myself, much more than I should have. And if you made it this far, again, you deserve a medal and a big gold star... Maybe one on Hollywood Boulevard, too! But really... There are so many thoughts in my head, all at once, all the time, that it's hard to make sense of them all. Having you girls here to see me through and help me to make sense of these thoughts has helped me more than I can say, and I wish there were words to express my love, gratitude and appreciation.
Without you all,  I wouldn't be where I am today. Cliche, I know, but too true.

...Sorry, Chuck.

Instead of following the "guidelines" ED has tried to make us follow, let's colour outside of the lines.

love, love, love.

The Sun Will Always Rise.

I'm in no way an artist, but I wanted to share this with you.

For the two past mornings, I have woken up earlier than usual. Doing what I always do, I make my way to the living room and do my morning yoga, in the dark. I finished my yoga and noticed that the sun still wasn't up yet, so I got myself a green tea and stood at the window. I didn't wake up early with the intention of watching the sun rise, but the opportunity was there, and I hadn't watched sat through a sunrise in a long time. I made my way outside and stood on top of the old dog kennel, and slowly, the sun appeared. A Cheshire Cat moon grinned down at me, as I watched the day behin. The rising sun painted the sky beautiful colours; colours that bring the world to life. Gray clouds blushed: pinks, corals, oranges, purples. Dark skies lightened, becoming a brilliant blue. The sun greeted the earth beneath it, introducing all living things to the new day it brought along. And there I stood, watching it all happen around me.

Today, although starting out beautifully, has been a battle to get through. My heart isn't in anything I do, my mind isn't focused, my soul is feeling devoid of all happiness, my body is lethargic, heavy. These four separate components are just that, separate. They should be working together, but instead they are trying to work independantly, and it's left me in a mess. Each is being plagued by ED - my heart, my mind, my soul and my body. Each suffering... Each part is suffering individually - they're working against each other, and it's making me hurt all the more. I was expecting ED to come creeping back in, but I wasn't expecting it to be this intense. I'm feeling lost, if lost is something you can feel. Confusion, uncertainty. Anxiety and worry. I'm edgy, I'm paranoid. Nothing I do is right, and everything my parents do is wrong, too.

My parents are a whole other kettle of fish, too. I think I have almost given up trying to talk to them, about anything. Trying to explain anything to them is like trying to explain what a picture looks like to a blind man: impossible. Whenever I muster up the courage to talk to either Mum or Dad, they never let me talk. Always cutting in, always voicing their opinions. I just want someone to listen. I want to be heard. I'm sick of listening to ED, I'm sick of not having my say in the things I do. I need to be heard.
What I try to say to them, almost seems unimportant - what they have to say is more important, more worth hearing. I don't want to feel this way, but there is almost no point in trying to tell them because they wont listen.

I haven't wanted to be negative, and I hope that I'm not becoming a drag, but honestly, right now this blog is the only thing preserving what little sanity I have. I'm trying to find Eleanor, but at the moment Eleanor doesn't want to be found - or ED doesn't want Eleanor to be found.

Though today has been a day I never want to repeat, it did start out beautifully. I watched a new day dawn. I watched the world wake up. I watched the sun colour in the shadows of night, I saw the lamp-posts dull then shut off, and although I was getting eaten alive by mosquitos (I'm probably going to catch some God-awful infection now), I was able to feel peaceful. I saw something get created. I watched the world around me, the world I live in, become. And that gives me hope. I will cling to any scrap of hope I can get my hands on. And this is hope.
The sun rises, every single day. It always has, and it always will. It stops for nothing, it stops for no one - including me. The rising of the sun signifies a new day and a fresh start, but it's up to me to take the opportunity to start afresh. I can choose to make the most out of my day, or I can choose to blanket myself in heavy darkness. Regardless of what I choose to do, the sun will keep rising in the morning. That tells me that life will always be there, and I will always have the chance to enter into it again.

Put the past in the past, where it belongs. Don't look too far ahead, because you'll get lost in the distance. Just put one foot in front of the other, and keep moving forward. The future will keep coming, and the past will trail behind - where we are now is where we should be, and what we donow is what matters most.

love, love, love.

Short and... Bitter.

I don't know how I'm supposed to be feelign right now.

All day, ED hasn't been as pronounced as usual. Recently I've been eating out of my "meal times". Today I are more than I "have to". And I don't know how to feel.
Should I be feeling guilty? Where's ED, throwing abuse at me? Or is ED already here?
Should I be feeling elated? Where's the "pride", that's supposed to come with doing something challenging?
Should I regret what I've done? Was it right to eat those extra dried fruit pieces and that extra teaspoon of PB?
Where is ED?
Is this my voice screaming at me? Or is it EDs, in disguise? Am I feeling guilty? Am I full of regret?

I think this is confusion. It has to be it. I've done something I wouldn't normally do, and my voice is getting confused with EDs voice. I don't know where Eleanor is, I don't know what Eleanor is thinking. But neither do I know where ED is, or what ED is thinking. Lurking in the background? Plotting to pounce when the opportunity arises?

Everything is everywhere. My mind is in pieces. I don't feel... Real. I don't feel here. I feel... Numb.
Why? Why is this happening? Is this ED? Is this Eleanor? Is this what's supposed to happen? Where am I going? What am I doing? Where should I go? What should I be doing?

This isn't nice.

I am sorry, my lovelies. I do not mean to be in such a way.
I'm a question-asker and a demanding one at that. I need answers but the answers might not be what I want to hear. I don't know what I even want to hear, or if I want to hear anything at all.
Confused is something I have been too often. Uncertainty is a feeling I am all too familiar with.
Not company I want to keep.

love.

And inside this box...

...is safety.

From the outside, it doesn't look like a very comfortable place to be - but inside, I feel sheltered, protected, safe. Inside my box, I don't need to think - everything I need is boxed up with me. Inside my box, I don't need to fear - unless someone opens it up and tries to pull me out.
But inside my box, it's dark. And you know? Sometimes, it gets a little lonely. Sure, I have a pal there, sharing the darkness with me. But sometimes, that pal isn't so great - there aren't any heart-to-heart conversations, and more often than not this pal of mine says pretty harsh things to me and tells me to do some pretty nasty things. But after being shut up for so long with only one thing for company, you become dependant on that one thing. It becomes a comfort in the cold and dark, a voice when no one else will hear you speak, an answer to your questions and a guide when you are lost. Having something always there, no matter what, - a constant amongst all the change -  becomes the only thing you have, the only thing you know you can rely on, your only sense of "self".

But recently, I've been starting to feel sort of cramped and trapped in here. It's too cold, too dark - my personal space is being invaded... My every thought is shadowed, my every "bright" moment smothered by something I can't see, but sure as heck can sense and hear. I have moments where I think I see a gap in the edges of my box... Realization that this isn't all there is, that there is a whole other world out there, waiting to be lived. Darkness, of course, quickly works to patch up that gap, telling me I've been decieved. But I saw it, I felt it. The thing I share my box with isn't the only thing that "cares" about me and "loves" me. People, friends, family, they're real? They've been trying to tell me that my box isn't safe? Isn't a nice place to be? Woah... Maybe I've been decieved by something else, I haven't been seeing things or imagining things. This "other world" does exist. Life outside my box is real. Where a smile is not frowned upon, where a bite to eat is not transformed into pounds of flesh and fat, where loving isn't painful and loving myself isn't wrong. Have I been missing out? Has my box been keeping me from all of this... The real meaning of life and living?

I mightn't be completely free from the bonds ED has wound around me, but slowly, sometimes without my notice, the bonds are loosening and the light from outside is getting in to my darkness. The shadow, the stain on my heart and mind and soul, is washing out. Yes, sometimes it hurts, it hurts like Hell. It wells up in my eyes and pours down my cheeks, it forms in my brain and flows out of my mouth, it aches in my stomach and screams in my head and turns everything into a chaotic mess - but it dies down.

I'm realizing, that the harder ED scratches, the louder ED screams, the further away he is getting from me. His cries of pain are caused by the ties bonding us together loosening, stretching and snapping. It hurts ED, and in the process it hurts me, but afterwards, I'm left with a sense of... Self. If I can call it that. I mightn't know who Eleanor is at this point in time, but at least I'm starting to understand that Eleanor isn't Ed. Eleanor is Eleanor, ED is an Eating Disorder, which I will not be defined by.

Something did come out of the box today, though. I finally mustered up the courage to tell my Mum about my blogging. It was scary - unbelievably so. But a huge weight was taken off of my chest once the words were spoken. She knows, and she is okay with it. Secrets shouldn't always be kept secret. Sometimes, they're better off being entrusted with a person you love, so that they can keep it safe for you.

I'm sorry for the narrative - if any of you can make sense of this, you deserve a congratulations. And a medal!

But most importantly, you all deserve to be free. Free to live, free to love, free to be you. Free to love yourself.

love, love, love.

The World Is A Playground.

As promised, the outfit from last night's party!

My attire:

Sorry for the funny expression - I wasn't ready for any of the photos ;)

Last night was a great night - My friend was worried the entire time about people not having fun or liking it. She's such a darling; the only thing that mattered was that she was having a good time! And guess what!? I won Best Dressed Award! I made the little red card and poker-chip belt myself. ;)

I had a Therapist appointment today. Last week, she got me to write down the positives and negatives of changing and staying the same. While writing the list of things for both positive and negative, I was faced with some very conflicting thoughts, and it came through on the paper. Although the exercise had good purpose, my mind was fighting against itself the whole time. My rational side was doing some major ED butt-kicking, but that didn't please ED, so ED made an appearance and started firing away at why it was better to stay the way I am now. That only furthered the anger on my rational side, which in turn made ED even crazier. In the end, I was left right back where I started: unsure.
I am unsure of everything at the moment; that was the main topic of conversation with my T today. I'm coming to the point in my recovery where I have to make a decision, it feels. There's so much pressure forcing itself down on me: either I choose to recover, or I choose to stay the same, or let ED take over. It's either one or the other, and I have to choose NOW, quickquickquick, time's running out. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know where I stand in this whole deal. Am I for recovery, or am I against it? Am I willing to say goodbye to ED, or do I depend too much on the sense of safety, security and comfort I'm provided with? Do I go left, or right? Up, or down? Back, or forward?

And the worst thing? This endless argument is not getting me anywhere. I'm at a standstill - everyone is working around me, pulling me this way and that, telling me where to go and what to do. I don't want that anymore. I want to live my life, the way I want to live it, and not how some dietitian tells me to, not how my parents tell me to, not how anyone else "expects" me to. I want to do it my way, for me.
But to do that I
a) need to know to me is,
b) need to be me and
c) need to know which way my way is.

Of course I wont know which way my way is until I figure out who I am, which could and most likely will take time. Do I have a long time? I don't know - it will take as long as it needs. But I only have one life, and to be honest, I can't see the reasoning behind denying myself the chance to live my life. I want to start living it, I need to start living it - because sooner than I realize I'm not going to have the chances I'm being presented with at this age come around again. Once a year of my life is gone, it's gone, and no matter how long I think on it, no matter how long I wish I could do it again, it will not come back.

-----

Before I forget, I want to actually make reference to the title of my post! (I ramble too much!)
Well, I raided my DVD cupboard today and found Yes Man. I didn't know we had it, but upon discovering it I thought "Hey, I actually wanted to watch this..." so I put it on and vegetated. I didn't know what I was expecting, but I freaking loved it. The messages, the meaning, the moral... It's purpose. It all made so much sense. I don't believe in fate, or that things happen for a reason, but honestly this was eerily almost like a sign, I swear. It was just what I needed - something to pull me out of the darkness I've been swamping myself in. One particular quote stood out, and I knew straight away that I had to share it with you all, because I knew you would all be able to find some meaning in it.

“The world is a playground. We knew that as a kid. But somewhere along the line we forgot that.”

Never forget that it is okay to be happy - life isn't all serious. Life is meant to be lived, enjoyed, filled with passion and love and happiness. Our lives are playgrounds. Let's enjoy being alive, let's make the most of our lives, because we only have one chance. Let's play.

love, love, love.