Bank Holiday Monday

As a child i can remember the anticipation i felt in the days prior to a bank holiday, as i relished in the thought of an extra day off. Now at 18 I dread a day of work in a busy cafe full of rude impatient old age pensioners eagerly awaiting an afternoon cream tea. Not even time and a half is enough to deter my angst towards the thought of screaming children and upper class Londoner's seeking solace from the busy city streets only to find themselves knee deep in foreign students with manners almost appalling as their's.

I can remember being desperate to grow up and gain independence and earn money; yet now as i consummate a fair quantity of money and am finally able to drive, i find myself longing for the carefree days of my preteens. Where my biggest worry was who i was going to sit next to on the coach on a forthcoming school trip or what i was going to wear for mufti day. I find myself faced with somewhat substantial life changing decisions such as university and foremost which path i choose to take my life, whilst I cant even make a small change to the amount of milk i have with breakfast. I am faced with an impending feeling of doom that this will last forever.

It is while writing this that I am telling myself that i am the author of this here life and coinciding with this it is my choices that decide how i am controlled by my eating disorder. Making decisions ultimately that now may go against my better nature may petrify me profusely will do me a greater deal of good in the long run. For if i was to deny myself the mere grape i have been craving or the slice of fruitcake ive been looking at for so long i would remain stuck still in the depths of the portentous demon in my mind. For if i want to be free you must push yourself. Break the barriers and habits formed. I don't want to fear the unknown i want to relish it, the spontaneity of life. I want to be 65 and at the drop of a hat deciding to go sky diving, because i coud afford it, was healthy enough and because I wanted too. I want to look forward to the buzz of a busy workplace on bank holiday Monday, share the excitement of children as they enter the cafe ready for ice cream and cake. I want to be able to sit with my children and eat cake and ice cream with them and savour the taste both. The time is now for me to escape anorexia, im over being controlled by the alarming desire for perfection.

It is not in the still calm of life, or the repose of a pacific station, that great characters are formed. The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. -Abigail Adams

too many posts, spoil a blog?

Much the same as 'too many cooks spoil the broth' I am plagued by the idea that if i am posting too many posts people may find me irritating, there are just so many things i wish to write. So many experiences and lessons that i've learnt and wish to share. But for fear of scaring you all away im disheartened to be a frequent blogger. ive tried to stick with a post a day but already i have completely infringed this original stratagem. So as follows this post there will be another, my apologies.

There's a time and a place to die

As I lay here in bed at 9:46 after a hell of a day, exhausted and aching from working all day I am reflecting on the past year or so of my life. It was approximately a year ago I was doing the same but with much a contrasting view on things.

This time last year I was nearing the end of my first full year of full blown anorexia. If I was to tell you all about my anorexia in this first post, not only would I bore you and scare you off but I'd have very little else to write about. I can remember spending my nights laying in bed calculating how much I'd allow myself to eat (or not eat as the case was, more often than not) before I fell asleep as I tumbled down a perilous path of self destruct with the ultimate goal of disappearing completely. I wanted nothing more but to starve, be thin or die and thinking over that now I am really saddened at how miserable I was. As I lay here now I am suddenly thankful at my failure to kill myself. I have realised now that the fact my body did not give up on me, besides being nothing short of a miracle, was also because there is a time and a place to die. There was a reason, however significant, for me to stick around. This journey has taught and is teaching me to appreciate that everything happens for a reason, what will be will be and that you cannot mess with fate. We do not and cannot choose where our life ends, we may miss out on the amazing oppurtunities that have been planned out for us. The lessons learnt and tests we face on the journey to love ourselves are mere setbacks in the saga of our lives. Giving up is not an option, for it is out of our hands. There is no telling what is around the corner but accepting that nothing is perfect as things are always changing and it is acceptance that we must seek as opposed to flawless immaculacy. Our lives have been bestowed upon us with such a responsibility to go out and live them as we are the lucky ones, some do not get given a life. We must embrace our life as we have a purpose to live as full, happy, enjoyable, hectic and crazy life as possible. Embrace the immaculacy, the craziness, the hurt, emotion and beautifulness. Accept the flaws and do everything to strive to be you and not conform as tomorrow is a Monday. A new week. A new start. Save your own life. Sometimes you're the only person who can.

Concluding this possibly a little bit pretentious rant, I'm not fixed but I'm on the road to greater happiness and I cannot wait for my next challenge.