My children

When I sit and think back to my years battling my eating disorder I feel so many different things.
To the young girl, the teenager, the young woman, I feel a sense of respect.
I am proud of her, of her battle, of her fight that she never gave up on.
She admitted her problems and took control over her life.
Them hospital admissions, she never failed. Each one brought her closer to life and closer to freedom. She held her head high, she cried, she laughed, she got her metaphorical sword and invited her eating disorder to a challenge. The prize being life. being love. being happiness.
She won.

But then, I look back to the child which got diagnosed with an eating disorder at 8.
I cannot help but cry and feel like I want to go back to her and hold her in my arms and tell her it's alright. But what would I say? That yes, dear child, things will get better. You are a princess who one day will be given a sword and will fight this evil dragon to the death, yours or its. But you will win this fight in 15 years. 15 long, long years.
It makes me so angry that I lost them precious years of my childhood, that I cannot claim them back and never will.
Them countless times being told, 'darling, you cannot go outside at playtime. You are too weak. You cannot do sport. You cannot join sports day'.
And I would sit and watch the other children play and laugh. And I wasn't a part of it.
Being bullied, called a monster, a skeleton girl.
And of course them other children would say such things. I would sit on a bench so often and someone would come and ask why I am crying. I'd scream that the voices are too loud.
For a while, I think the doctors thought I had schizophernia. I would talk about them voices that screamed all day and night.
The smell of rotten food in my bedroom and behind the couch which swiftly sift through the house like a plague, and my mum would shake me and scream 'please eat'. 'No'. would be my answer.
I went into a world of silence. Where the only voices I would respond to were the ones in my head.
I have a distinct memory of looking at myself in the mirror, taking hold of a knife and carving fat in my leg. And when the sun shines, I can still see that word. It reveals itself like a bad memory coming back to haunt me.

I just get angry, why did this poor, innocent child get this? She was too young too fight. Too young to understand.

I just want to say darling, I love you.
I just want to take her hand. Hold it. Squeeze it. And cry with her. For her.
At night, when I used to pray to God to kill me, I want to brush her hair off her face and kiss her brow.

I can sit here and do all I can to help those who have eating disorders as women and men, but for the children... I feel helpless. And when I see children on the news talking about diets, I get a pang in my heart and I cry for them, for their mothers and fathers.

What can I do?
Little. But I must be able to do something?
Yes I can. I am going to make a new channel about children with eating disorders.
I want to make a charity for these children.
I am going to do it.
Sia Jane, I know you will help me. Any others, please get in touch.

xxx

Nothing can beat me

Do not think I cannot see them glances, the up and down look, you had an eating disorder?
No way. You can't possibly. You look normal.
Excuse me. Pardon?
All I can do is laugh at their ignorance and tell them yes, I did, and sorry to disappoint them that I no longer look like a walking corpse.
Thank god I don't. I like my bum. I like my hips. I like the colour in my cheeks. I like my curves. My thighs. My smile. My hair. My green eyes. But you know what I like most? The person inside. The person who now has so much empathy, understanding and compassion. So thank you eating disorder, if I cannot take away the damage you did I can say thank you for giving me this. But nonetheless, you are not welcome back.

When people judge me, I just want to scream out my past and see how they would have coped.
I went through my parents divorce, watched my mum have a mental break down and saw both my parents physically and emotionally fight.
I was sexually abused by a stranger when I was just 12. In the street. And no one helped me when they saw me crying on the train which my blouse open and my jeans undone.
I had a series of bad relationships, followed by what I now understand was torture from my boyfriend at the time. No, I am not talking torture as in he was just a dick, I mean horror film torture.
I then had a series of hospital admissions. Not short ones. Months.
I tried to take my life.
I self harmed.
I starved.
I purged.
I cried.

And you know what? I am still standing. I am a fighter. A warrior. A believer. I beat all this shit and I still have a smile on my face. I am 23 and have had an unfortunate period of my life which made me go back to my pre-8 self and search for comfort and safety.
I may have scars on my arms, legs and thighs but they are my warrior wounds. My battle wounds. And I am still fucking alive.

Do NOT tell me I am not strong.
Do NOT tell me I am weak.

I am a warrior. And I now dedicate my life to helping others fight their battles. Lets build an army and take mental illness head on.

Reincarnation

So I took a step. I am no longer locking myself away, I am not going to make a prison in which I am my own room mate and guard.
No.
Instead I am going to accept that right now, I am sometimes sad.
I am going to allow myself to be human. Give myself permission to feel emotion. Thats the good and the bad.

I am doing much better.
I am now on a recovery weight gain diet, not because I am underweight, just to get myself to a better, even healthier weight. I am positive about this, about finally leaving it behind. As I often think I am recovered, but then little things like not choosing what I always want makes me realise no. Perhaps it still has some control over me. Not dangerously, just slightly.
But I don't want it to have control over me. None. I am going to free myself from this enduring burden on my back and laugh in its face as I walk away.

Goodbye eating disorder. Take this.

Where am I?

I am completely swallowed up by a dark cloud right now.
My pain resides deep within my heart and it chokes me up far too often.
I cry, so much. And it hurts. I spent yesterday hiding underneath my duvet hoping that if I stay there I just won't exist anymore.
Yet no one knows the pain I am currently in right now. And as I sit in my little room, I wonder how someone can feel so alone in a city full of people.
I never felt alone when I had my ed, in fact I prefered it that way. If I had no friends I wouldn't be put in food situations and I wouldn't have to hide my ed. It made life much easier, being just me.
And I longed for that yesterday. Not my ed, but to be able to survive on my own. As life is much simpler that way.

But thats not an enriched life. And I am glad I can feel, as feeling makes me human.
I have no idea where I am or what I am doing, but I definately know that no matter what, I am not doing it with my eating disorder.

Moving On

Sometimes we feel our hearts tender strings have been snapped, that our heart has suddenly broke beyond repair.
But our hearts strings never stop playing music, and we have the hands to create a song where we can twirl and dance to. This can be through love of art, the smile of innocence from a child, through a smell which reminds you of childhood, through realising the world still has so much to love and so much love to offer.
Love is not an exchange, it is a leap of faith. And we will continue making these leaps of faith if we let ourselves.
I haven't given up on love, I know that I will love again as I am open to love.

I have realised that life is a matter of perspective. Moving back into a hall environment which I left 4 years ago, from a 4 bed countryside house to a one bedroom self contained area, one might feel pessimistic. But I don't, I know that this room can be my sanctuary, my haven which I can fill with myself and my ability to be. It won't be a prison as I simply won't let it. And I look forward to lifes next chapter and the words which will unfold on the pages.

Who am I?

Above all, I am a believer. A dreamer. And I am going to dedicate the new few months to engaging in activities and socialising with people who and which allow my true self to unfold. It is true, like my father said to me the other day, I need time to explore who I am. And what can be more exciting than that, alongside the ability to explore the world?

So no, I will wave goodbye to feelings of guilt and shame, acknowledge any feelings of sadness, and welcome all positive feelings into my sanctuary.

The next chapter of the Chronicles of myself will soon be available.