What A Day.

Ladies, I would like to introduce you all to the boy that stole my heart away.

He loves me like no one else ever has, he makes me feel like I'm the only one that matters. He makes me laugh and smile, putting me on a permanent high. I'm love struck.

I must warn you all now, though, that Green Eyed Monsters may find their way to the surface of your minds…
His name is Albi, and he is my baby boy.

* * *

She woke up like she did any other day: her alarm woke her from a dreamless slumber, just as it did every morning. But little did she know, today wasn't going to be like every other day she'd had so far: full of sadness, tears and monotony. Today would be anything but monotonous, sad and tearful.
As she was preparing herself for any other day, her phone gave off an unexpected ring. She answered it hesitantly.
"Hello?" she said.
"Hi El, it's Ard (my Mum's friend). I was wondering if you'd like to come shopping with me and Little Marissa (her baby) today? I've been home all week bored mindless and I think I've cleaned my bench top 9 times this morning."
At first, Eleanor didn't know what to say. This would throw her out of her normal – otherwise known as boring – routine. But she accepted.

* * *

And so started my day.
I haven't smiled so much in such a long time. I haven't had such amazing conversations in longer than I care to remember. Today, I was busy all day. I went shopping with my Mum's friend, who so happens to have the opposite problem to me. She is an overeater, and has been overweight almost her whole life. She's lost so much weight, and is looking better than she has in as long as I've known her. We talked about the similarities of our conditions, and I learnt so much from her. I learned that it's not just about food, it's about the mind, and the desperate lengths it will go to, to find ways of coping.
I had an amazing morning. But it didn't stop there.

This afternoon, an old boyfriend of mine, who I have had a very sketchy history with, asked me to go out for coffee with him. I accepted, not expecting to come home in a good mood. But I did.
He's always been such an intellectual, and it took today for me to realize just how much I miss the conversations I used to have with him. I talked about my condition, I talked about the thoughts that go on in my head and the fact that I always know that I'm doing something wrong at the time that I'm doing it, but not having control over the actions I follow through with. And he understood. He's an amazing guy, and as much as I was hurt by him, we've both grown on and past our previous life together, and reconnected on a different level. I lost him when I started getting sick. He left. But that's because he didn't know how to handle it, he didn't know what was going on and he didn't know how to do anything about it. That's understandable. It took me a long time to get over that, but I've matured and grown a lot since then.
We talked about how experiences change and make a person who they are. I came to the conclusion and realisation that, if I hadn't gotten this illness, I wouldn't have learned to appreciate life as much as I do now

.I had the most amazing day. I can't do my day justice with words, because it goes beyond explanation. I had a normal day. But it was an amazing day. I learned a lot about myself, and about the people I love and care about.
Today marks an important day in my recovery. My hard work so far has paid off, and maybe tomorrow I'll have an absolute horror of a day, but the fact that I had an amazing day today makes it all worth while. It makes the fight worth fighting. It gives me hope for more amazing days.

Let's learn to appreciate what we do have in life, instead of what the unrealistic wants we have. Let's learn to appreciate ourselves, for who we are and what we have to give to the world.

We're all beautiful. We're all strong. We're all worth fighting for.
We all have lives to live, that can be lived and will be lived.
Our experiences shape who we are, and teach us important life skills & lessons.
Life can be beautiful, if we learn to accept it for what it is.

How?

I'm the shadow behind you, creeping under the door,
I'm the scratch at your window, the dust on the floor.
I'm the clouds in the sky, hiding the sun,
I'm the raging wind, where the storm has begun.

I'm the waves of the ocean, the crash on the rocks,
I'm the howl of the wind, the sound that shocks.
I'm the grey of the sky, the thundering roar,
I'm the sinking ship, the boat with no oar.

I'm the voice with no sound, the lips that don't move,
I'm the worst kind of question, with no answer to choose.
I'm the deafening silence, the constant drone,
I'm the heaviest heart, the one made of stone.

I'm the thoughts at night, that keep you awake,
I'm the stranger in the dark, that stands at your gate.
I'm the waking nightmare, the repeated dream,
I'm the one you detest, I'm the reason you scream.

***

I've been too scared to post. I've been too scared to write down the things that are going on in my life, as if writing it all down will confirm it, making it reality. The sense of control craved in times of confusion is coming back with force, and that need for control is controlling me. It's stopping me from thinking rationally and logically, it's taking away what mental clarity I had.
It's getting harder instead of getting easier. Where's the promised happiness, the sense of freedom? The light at the end of the tunnel?
My light has gone out. I can't see anymore. I can't see anything. I'm surrounded by this haze, this shadow. My vision, my clarity, my thoughts are all blurred; stumbling has become the new means of getting around, and every time I fall down it's harder to get back up.

This is all mentally, of course. Physically, I am on the up, which is why I'm so confused as to the lack of happiness/freedom/peace of mind. The walls of which I had built up as a means of protection, love and support are crumbling around me and on top of me, which has left me aching for the control which allowed me to deal with my troubles before. Before, I had something to hold on to, albeit destructive and unhealthy. It was something. Now I have nothing, except the broken pieces of what was once a loving, wholesome family. My family, my beautiful, strong and supportive family, are breaking apart.

Where was I, while this happened?
I was in my head, listening to the disordered thoughts that told me I was doing the right thing.
I was in hospital, trying to get my life together so I could better cope at home, where I could repair my relationship with my family.
How could I have let this all slip past me… Right before my eyes?

To stop being cryptic; in more or less words my parents, have fallen apart without my knowing. Without their knowing, as far as I'm aware.
The reality only really just hit me a few days ago and I've been struggling to digest it. It all seems so unreal. I've been expecting to wake up, as if it is all just a bad dream, but no matter how many times I pinch myself, I only hurt. I don't wake up in a cold sweat, and sigh in relief knowing that it was all in my head. I can't turn over and go back to sleep. I'm living it, this nightmare. This nightmare is my life, my reality.

I can't really believe I'm sending this out to the internet… It's not as if doing so is going to fix anything. I'm clutching at straws, I guess.

I'm scared. I'm scared of losing the only thing I really had: my family.

I cannot revert to old bad habits. I have to stay strong, not only for myself but for my family.
This isn't an excuse, this isn't a reason to slip back.
This is a reason to keep moving forward.

Oh, God.
Life is full of twists and turns and unexpecteds.

Poetry Speaks.

When words escape me, nothing is more refreshing than using the words of others to depict my emotions.
A thank you to the beautiful woman who sent me through this poem. You're in my thoughts.

Summer: Mountain Top

When I swam through oil-filled waters spat upon this bitter earth
When I saw a mother's crying face at that dying birth
When I walked through icy winds, when I slept on beds of snow
When I felt the leadened hail stone, swam against the ice flow

When thoughts were crucifixes, when nightmares grew from the ground
When screams were entwined in my every word, every sound
When wounds opened and bled salted tears
When every day passed away like it was a year

When lost in leech-filled forests, when I stood alone in storms
When battered and tired from the day I was born
When the darkness enveloped me as the sun had gone away,
I carried on for the reason that I would reach here one day.

I would see spirits playing twister and by the sky streams
I would see layers of my own tears drift past like flocks of dreams
I would see glistening hope in every single teardrop of pain
And I would hear the sound of music in all this falling rain.
-Lemn Sissay

* * *

There is no good without bad, and no bad without good. To see the good, sometimes we must first be exposed to the bad. That way, we really know what there is to appreciate in life.
But no matter how bad things may seem, there is always a glimmer of hope.
This has taken me a long time to realize – it's frustrating to have to have gone through a period of bitterness first to see what there is in my life to appreciate. It's frustrating to have to have gone through a period of bitterness to learn to appreciate my actual life.

But I've been there, I've seen some bad things, and I've done some bad things. And I have come to the conclusion that, although it wasn't a waste of time, it's not worth wasting another minute for.

The battles worth fighting for are the hardest of all.
It gets harder before it gets easier, but I'll run the hard yards if it means coming out into a brighter, sweeter future and life.

 

It's waiting for us. We just have to get there.

Home Coming.

I'm going home tomorrow morning.

That sentence has so many emotions attached to it, of varying degrees. I'm full of excitement, anticipation, hope and happiness. But I'm also full of fear, anxiety, nervousness and complete horror. There's no way I could be in hospital for much longer before going insane, but the prospect of gaining more weight is… Well, weighing my emotions down. I know that it's necessary, but what's waiting for me at home is a family that is just as scared as me about having to deal with the Eating Disorder. It's still strong. Nowhere near as strong as it used to be, granted. But it's still strong, and it will still try to make my life a living Hell. It will try to work against me, it will try to work against my family, my dietician, my therapist. It will try to work against everything I've worked for, and it will try to work against everyone that's working with me.

I'm scared.

I've wanted to go home ever since I got in here, but I never really thought about what it's going to be like at home. I knew that I just wanted to be away from the hospital environment. Were my intentions pure, positive and healthy? Or were there underlying reasons that my eating disordered thoughts tried to sneak in? I can't know that, and maybe I never will, but I now know what is waiting for me at home.
What's waiting for me at home is a family that will do everything they can to get me to a better place in my life.
What's waiting for me at home is a treatment team that will, also, help me to reach a better platform.
What's waiting for me at home is the chance to better my life, myself, for me and for my future.

That's nothing to be afraid of. But I am afraid of hurting my parents. Or rather, I'm afraid that my eating disorder will hurt my parents. I'm afraid of giving up control of food, I'm afraid of food in general. That alone is proof I'm not at a healthy enough place to look after myself.
I just have to accept that.

I have to accept that things will be hard.
I have to accept the help I'm being given.
I have to accept that things will get easier.
I have to accept that it's hard because it.is.worth.it.

I'm going home. And I'm going to make it.

love, love, love.

Growing Up.

With the coming of my new puppy, I have accumulated my own pre-pubescent new puppy fat on my tummy. My once [unhealthily] flat stomach has now got a layer of protection, and then some. Fat protects the organs. You know, those things in your body that KEEP YOU ALIVE? My organs were exposed to damage, and the weight gain has sent the new fat to the parts of my body that need it most.
(I'm sure you're all well aware of this fact; I am merely repeating it to myself so it is easier for me to believe. Repeating positive mantras allows me to believe these things with ease.)

I feel out of proportion, out of shape, untoned, and all the rest, don't get me wrong. But as a wise male friend once said to me: "Guys dig girls with some meat
on their bones!"
My body is soaking up all the nourishment it's getting and doing with it what it needs to in order for me to function properly and healthily. At the moment, there is no point in me worrying about how I look, where the weight is accumulating, etc., etc. At the moment, none of that matters, because I'm not at a healthy place.

It's taken a 3 week hospitalisation for me to realise this. It's taken 3 weeks of absolute HELL to realise that I have a life beyond an eating disorder.
I've gained a little over 4 kilos in 3 weeks, and have not had any physical activity. My body is aching, I am incredibly tired, I'm suffering from caffeine withdrawals, but I'm getting healthier.

My Dad said something to me yesterday that made a lot of sense to me."You're growing back into yourself again."

I'm becoming Eleanor again.

Yes, I may have some puppy fat, but I can now at least share that with my pudgy little pup (that I will be able to see in a week!).
I am being discharged from hospital next Thursday.

And, I am going to continue moving onwards and upwards, growing back into myself.

 

love, love, love.

P.S. The photo of that puppy isn't of my pup, I stole it from the internet. BUT, he will look much like that!
Thank you all so much for the beautiful words. They mean the world to me. You all make me so proud; proud of you and proud of myself.
Thank you.
x

Furry Friend.

I am getting a puppy.

My very own little pride and joy.
This little puppy
will be my companion.
This little puppy will keep me smiling.
This little puppy will be my motivation.
This little puppy will keep me strong.

His name will be Albi,
a little golden labrador.
And he will be mine.

I Miss My Coffee.

…Enough said.

***
Hospital has been taxing, in every aspect.
My muscles are screaming out in agony; they want to be stretched and used like they're meant to.
My mind is being torn in two directions constantly; plagued by a voice that isn't my own, and plagued with a voice that is my own.
My emotions are all over the place; crying has become second nature.

I am in here for at least another two weeks, from what the doctors have said.
I am sick of being in here for many reasons.
No coffee!?

It is too hard to explain everything that's been going on. I gained a lot of weight in 3 days, which spun me out of control for a while. Not outwardly, but it was an internal battle in my mind. I have my Dad here this whole week supporting me and spending time with me, which has made the whole ordeal a little easier to bear with. Being so far away from home has had an immense effect on me, and having Dad here is like a home away from home; he offers comfort, and he offers reason. He talks me out of me emotional hell-holes and brings me back into my logical, rational mind, where I belong.

I don't want to have to be in here anymore.
I can do this at home, and I will to this at home.
There's no 'trying' or 'attempting'. There's no 'wanting' and 'wishing'.
There is only doing.

I will do this.
Once and for all.


love, love, love.