Stay True To You

...easier said than done when you don't really know who you are.

Just when I thought I had nothing to say, I have the urge, once again, to spill my thoughts onto virtual paper.

I've been thinking more and more about the post I wrote a few days ago- how I want, so badly, to fit in. I feel like a complete misfit most of the time. I don't fit in with "normal" people, I don't fit in with "sick" people. I'm somewhere in between starting recovery and being solidly in recovery, and it's lonely as hell.

Part of this is prompted by the pictures I have been taking of my food. I really want to have a food blog one day, and I'm not sure why. For a LONG time, I've been reading some of the food blogs that have been around for a couple of years and I really look up to these people as role models for what a "non-eating disordered" person eats in a day. Perhaps morbid curiosity, perhaps malnutrition-induced food obsession, or perhaps I just have a genuine passion about food/nutrition/life. I don't know at this point.

This is not a food blog.

As much as that is what I *want* one day, I'm not there yet. And I'm not going to pretend to be. I don't WANT to be viewed forever as "the anorexic who eats". I used to have major struggled with self-harm- it's NOT a part of my life anymore. I don't think about it, I don't read about it, my ears don't prick up when it's mentioned/brought up. It's a complete non-issue for me. I don't think I'll ever be that with with food and eating because there is no way around food in everyday life, but also because I've always been interested in food/eating/nutrition/cooking. My family love to eat, my parents love to cook. There has been a strong emphasis on food for my entire life, and I'm okay with that. It's part of who I am. Anorexia ISN'T, and this blog is about my journey towards recovery. It won't turn into a food blog- when I am at the stage where I am doing well and have a healthy relationship with food, I'll start a new blog.

I look up to a lot of the bloggers as role models- rarely comment on their blogs, but love hearing about their attitudes to their meals and their lives, the ups and downs that EVERYONE has, whether they have some emotional issues or not. Life is life, with all it's ups and downs. I've started commenting more on these blogs because that's what I am striving for: balance, moderation, a level of self-acceptance that I am okay with, a way to juggle the trials and tribulations that the world brings.

I am SO grateful for the people who take the time to read my blog and comment- you guys are great and I can't tell you how much it means that you have read and commented about the journey I am on, and to those of you who are travelling alongside me.

I spoke a few days ago about how I was feeling like I am relying too much on "blogosphere" for some kind of...i don't know. Something it can't be, because it's not fair to any bloggers and it's not fair to me. My blog is about my journey from "sick" to "well" and I need to keep reminding myself that it's NOT about how many responses I get/how much feedback I get/who has or hasn't commented. This isn't about any of YOU GUYS, it's about my own head twisting things around and turning my sole source of uninterrupted (by ED) place to talk openly and I can't let anorexia take over this space too.

I have received a few hurtful comments over the last few weeks here and that's kind of what's prompted this. the entire focus of my blog has changed over the last few months- a GOOD thing because it was more a kind of "woe is me/life is crappy/pity party" before and now I am really spilling my thoughts into good ol' blogspot. But I can't let it change into something I don't want it to BE. I can write for an audience (hell, it's what my jobs have been) but my blog isn't work. My blog is the thoughts and feelings and events that shape MY life, and I need to keep it that way.

I am still going to post pictures- probably food, maybe some other stuff. I am still going to read the same blogs, comment on the same ones I have been. I just wanted to write *something* to remind MYSELF what the purpose of my blog is, and I hope you DO continue reading and commenting because this is a lonely road and I know I'm not the only one walking down it.

Everything's Changed (Back To What It Was?..)

I last posted over a week ago. Things haven't really changed from a physical point of view. I'm still sleeping insane amounts, still feeling horribly unwell and still no clue what is actually going on with my body right now. Different people have different theories- adrenal fatigue, food intolerance's, depression, thyroid problem. It's all being investigated.

Meanwhile, on Tuesday night I started exchanging emails with a really good friend of mine in New York. Turned out, she is moving into a new apartment this week and looking for a roommate. Within 24 hours, I had booked flights, made appointments with a psychiatrist and therapist and am all set to go.

How do you know if you are doing the right thing?..

The reasons I left New York remain pretty much unchanged. The reasons why I want to leave Edinburgh so badly are accumulating by the day. I *need* to get out of Edinburgh and New York is the "easiest" option (as in, I know the city, have somewhere to live, etc). I don't know if it's going to work out this time. I pretty much stopped caring about ANYTHING somewhere amidst my move to London, and that also remains unchanged. I don't want to go back, but honestly? I don't want to be anywhere right now. I am NOT (for the record) suicidal. Hell, I don't want to be dead anymore than I want to be alive right now.

Something in the emails sparked *something* in me, and maybe now that the initial excitement has worn off, am just overwhelmed by moving, yet again, and the increasing frustration with the situation in Edinburgh.

I don't know what to do, and I don't know what my options are right now. There are so many "pros" to moving, and far less for staying. Lots of cons on either side. Nothing feels quite right about this, and I can't think straight enough to figure it all out myself. But I don't actually have anyone in real life to talk this over with...(and yes, I am aware how pathetic this is).

On My Own

Last night ended rather disastrously. I don't know what triggered the surge of emotions, or why I didn't even fight the urges I was having. It seems that as I give up some behaviours, others crop up- hitting hard, with me, unprepared to adequately fight them.

In hindsight, I was tired. I hadn't slept well for a few days. I'm incredibly lonely here in Scotland, becoming increasingly frustrated at the conflict that arises from wanting to *be* well, and not sure if the steps I am taking are the "right" ones. I'm tired of fighting myself. Tired of fighting the constant barrage of obsessions and compulsions, and tired of...well to be honest, the overwhelming desire to recover. If there was no WANTS involved, I'd surrender to the thoughts and the conflict wouldn't arise in the first place. It's the in-between stage of wanting to be sick/wanting to be well that provides the breeding ground for any kind of negativity.

BUT...

Today is a new day. I got up and ate breakfast. I've been trying to increase my intake over the last few days and for the most part, have been successful. It's causing a lot of anxiety for me, but I am pushing forward and hoping it gets easier. Nobody KNOWS I am doing this (well, anyone reading this does!) and it's hard without support, but I've come to realise that people, for the most part, don't actually care anymore.

It's not about them anymore.

It's not about who has answers, who can help me, who can support me, who can love me.

I'm on my own now. I'm terrified and lonely and spend a lot of time fighting the urge to SCREAM or CRY or just reach out and hug someone (ha- sure that would go down well, lol) but it's the reality I am facing.

Perhaps it will feel more empowering in the future- to know that *I* did this. That *I* created a life for myself, got back on my feet and said a big "F*** you" to the people who have caused more of a hindrance than anything else. In the future. For now, it hurts like hell.