They can’t measure heart

It’s starting to take it’s toll. I don’t feel healthy body or mind.

I’m not sure why and I’m not sure what I expect to achieve by this post or what my aim is but perhaps this is just me acknowledging I’m not feeling okay.

Not the Staind song – although that has always resonated with me so perhaps there is more to that than I initially thought. But back to it..

I haven’t ‘blogged’ in almost a year, I always do this – “life gets in the way”. In reality I just don’t ever make the time I need to process my life in order to move forward. Maybe that is true for a lot of people. But with this period of self-isolation comes the opportunity to self-reflect and even I cannot ignore that.

I joined a group on Facebook earlier – I think that’s how this whole train of thought started. It’s a group set up by an old school friend to support women and help them achieve their body goals. It isn’t one of those fad diet/sales pitching/thinspo type pages. It seems the genuine start of a supportive community. After watching the welcome video I feel very warm and positive. I compare that to my own journey with my body/ in this body, all the negativity and pain but I have decided that it is all down to my attitude and approach to it all. So here’s hoping for a change..

I’ve mentioned before about having atypical anorexia. My restrictive eating that saw me never consume more than 500 calories a day. I always knew that it wasn’t healthy and always tried to tiptoe that fine line between ideal range and underweight in my bmi category. Always having the perfect response to “you’re too skinny” – Well, I wasn’t, I was in the box that they told me to be in.

I’m not a naturally slim individual, I was always broader than most girls growing up, more muscly.. but I was active, so understandably so right? Well now I’m not. I’m losing my mobility, I’ve lost my passion, my hobbies and somewhere amidst pregnancies and problems, I’ve lost myself. But, instead of losing lbs I’ve gained them, 50 of them!! Some may have been needed but for the most part they are definitely not wanted nor are they needed. Okay, so the loss of an active lifestyle and deteriorating health have been a factor but 50lbs of it, if I’m honest that’s not all beyond my control. Most of that is on me, I mean literally it is on me but I mean this attitude. My love for wine and the way it makes me feel/not feel and cake can no longer be balanced by my activity. But my defeatist attitude and calorie-laden comforts have only fed the negativity – excuse the pun.

I’ve been told to just accept what is happening to my body anatomically, sometimes by those we believe know best, but that doesn’t make it so and nor should it mean the mind should close down. I am sure there are activities I could do if I just opened up to them, gave myself that time and space to create a healthier body and mind.

I don’t know it all but I know enough to know what I should be doing, could be doing but I guess I’m not strong enough to get there on my own. Or maybe I am.. maybe I just want/need that support and community..

Let’s see aye.

At the height of an ED my legs and body appear to have been the same thickness. As I now struggle to control my current weight, I’ve stumbled across pictures that fill me with both desire and despair.

Where do I go from here, not back there, surely..

Mental Health Awareness Week 2019
has made me think of the awareness of my own mental health (MH). In all honesty, I think I may struggle with the wording, but social media is, this week, reminding us to start a conversation – so here is mine; to myself, or maybe to anyone who wants to read, be it for understanding or validation. I hope this brings both insight comfort.

I live with a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), having previously been labelled Bipolar. I am not too keen on being put in a box as such, so I think what I will agree to is that I experience depression. I do not believe I am denial – I take medication and attend appointments regarding this – I just do not wish to define myself in any such manner. I was diagnosed with Anorexia, but I am weight restored (and then some!). Physically, I live with Joint Hypermobility with associated Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (P.O.T.S) and Scoliosis.

Like most I think, somewhere in my teens/pre-teens, I became body conscious and developed disordered eating. I think as a result of some trauma I became very aware of my body and very aware of what I could and could not control. I guess my behaviours up until a retrospective diagnosis of post-natal depression could be viewed as compensatory, at least now. At the time, it could be, at best, described as self-destructive.
Pregnant with my eldest in 2006 – this discovery coincided with my Nana’s terminal diagnosis. October. I wrestled with telling her. January 2007 – I finally told both her and my parents. Nana made it to April, she told me she was going to hold out for Him, and she really did try. Our weekday carer since way back when, Monday evening dinners and sleepovers whenever I wanted, “Good night God bless”. A whole host of family conflict then began. Instead of facing my problems I ran from them. In any and every way possible. Even to the point where I went on holiday for 9 weeks, minus my son, to Australia. I am not sure I could get any more literal in an attempt to get as far away from feeling as possible.

2011, I was first put on medication. It was also a year in which I overdosed. Of no fixed abode, some amazing humans took me in and although I am sure they knew of my love and gratitude. I had not healed and continued to behave in destructive ways, especially with the bottle. I wish I had been a better person – made peace and contributed to the household, instead of being a drain on it. I was having auditory and visual hallucinations. I could not sleep at night but could sleep all day. It was not until pregnant with my miracle baby girl that I found distance from toxic connections, some in which I was the toxic entity. I began my MH awareness journey.

Losing my amazing human, hitting my lowest weight and some other real shitty events and we are in the present.
Near on 30, Mother of 3, Wife.

I am self-aware to an extent. Sometimes I anticipate a slip. Especially when the pain is overwhelming. For most of my adult life there has been a ‘justification’ for my behaviours, a stressor. But now, it seems I am just riding the waves. There are times when I cannot anticipate these moods and I cannot stop the self-destruction. At these times I am not aware of my MH. I have not taken the time to recognise or accept my feelings. Instead I push them away and hide, behind alcohol mainly. I know this and yet I still succumb to these episodes of instability, irritability and irrationality.

I guess what I am trying to say is, MH is not quantifiable as such. It does not discriminate, there is not one size fits all. You cannot know someone by name alone. You cannot know someone by their behaviour alone. Yes, you do not, by any means, have to accept harmful behaviour and you have every right to protect yourself, first and foremost. But if this behaviour is coming from someone you love, make sure they hear you. “I love you. I’m here for you but…”

So often I try to push people away first, for fear of rejection or maybe in an attempt to not be ‘a burden’.

Maybe you can see this in yourself or in others. At times we may want to be alone but that does not mean we should truly be so. A text, a phone call. There are so many ways to stay connected. To check in, to be there.
Hi, how are you? Start a conversation today. If not for anyone else, for you. Mental Health Matters! Time to talk?

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton