I was suggested to write a letter to show my body a tiny drop of love, to start balancing out of the ocean of negativity. Here it is!
Thanks for doing your best to keep going, even when I don’t treat you very well. Thanks for having the capacity to move, be flexible, and learn choreography. Without you I wouldn’t be chasing my dreams.
What you look like is a very confusing topic for me, and I’m sorry for critiquing you so much, so often.
Thank you for the ability to walk, draw, colour, write neatly, bake & type (wouldn’t be doing this otherwise!) so many people in the world have physical struggles that I can’t even imagine, and I’m sure life would be difficult in a whole different way if I were one of them.
I think it’s safe to say we’ve all argued with a family member at some point. It’s inevitable when you are with them so much. I hate confrontation. I don’t know how to get rid of anger in a way that’s healthy, so I normally end up internalising all my feelings and taking it out on myself. I was doing this, in my usual fashion, after a conversation came up that upset me the other night. I don’t drink, but this person does (and had been that evening) I felt really shitty and cried all evening, but not knowing how to even begin a conversation about it with them afterwards, I just got more and more on edge.
Fast forward 24 hours and the same conversation topic was brought up. I commented back that the whole discussion was making me want to kill myself a bit so if we could stop that would be ideal. (Blunt I know, but honest!)
Well, it kicked off. Shouting, crying, walking out. All of it. And then it was just me and them on our own and I was being told things about my family which I just didn’t want to hear. How somebody else almost killed themselves, how one parent prefers a separate living space, how caring for somebody with mental illness has ruined X number of years…
I can’t fucking cope. I know that on the outside I come from a middle class family who loves me & wants to help me, but really nothing is perfect. My parents relationship isn’t exactly going swimmingly, and the stuff I was told the other night is haunting me. I’m not good at forgiveness when somebody has really hurt me. And this hit all the nerves. How do you move on?
It may be selfish, but seeing the flaws of my family is so triggering to my ED and I just wish I didn’t know anything sometimes. In some ways my knowledge of things that happened when I was growing up have made my relationship with my Mum really special. Lots of people don’t have the closeness we do. But equally, knowing a lot of the imperfections and difficulties in my family makes my house very triggering sometimes, and I wonder how different things might have been if I was less surrounded by certain issues in my household. Who knows!
If anyone has any experience or thoughts about trying to rekindle my relationship after all this drama with that one person, comment below 💕
I recently read Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, and this extract is proof that everyone lacks belief in some part of themselves, and that really, where will get us?
Let me list for you some of the many ways in which you might be afraid to live a more creative life: You’re afraid you have no talent. You’re afraid you’ll be rejected or criticized or ridiculed or misunderstood or—worst of all—ignored. You’re afraid somebody else already did it better. You’re afraid you won’t be taken seriously. You’re afraid your work isn’t politically, emotionally, or artistically important enough to change anyone’s life. You’re afraid your dreams are embarrassing. You’re afraid that someday you’ll look back on your creative endeavors as having been a giant waste of time, effort, and money. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of discipline. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of work space, or financial freedom, or empty hours in which to focus on invention or exploration. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of training or degree. You’re afraid you’re too fat. (I don’t know what this has to do with creativity, exactly, but experience has taught me that most of us are afraid we’re too fat, so let’s just put that on the anxiety list, for good measure.) You’re afraid of being exposed as a hack, or a fool, or a dilettante, or a narcissist. You’re afraid of upsetting your family with what you may reveal. You’re afraid of what your peers and coworkers will say if you express your personal truth aloud. You’re afraid of unleashing your innermost demons, and you really don’t want to encounter your innermost demons. You’re afraid your best work is behind you. You’re afraid you never had any best work to begin with. You’re afraid you neglected your creativity for so long that now you can never get it back. You’re afraid you’re too old to start. You’re afraid you’re too young to start. You’re afraid because something went well in your life once, so obviously nothing can ever go well again. You’re afraid because nothing has ever gone well in your life, so why bother trying? You’re afraid of being a one-hit wonder. You’re afraid of being a no-hit wonder
There you have it. A summary of human fear in one paragraph. What’s the point in not trying? Whatever it is you want to do this Monday, do it.
I get varying levels of anxiety, from barely noticeable, to very worried, about appointments.
Tonight my mind is whirling around and overthinking everything. Have I done well at goals? Do I even want to be good at those goals? Should I have got sicker since she last saw me? Have I got sicker?
And truth be told, my answers to all of those questions (plus the other billion in my head) is a resounding I’m not sure. My tendency to overthink makes it feel quite overwhelming and confusing when the thoughts flood in like this.
What I do know is that I want to be more muscular than I am now, because this will benefit my dancing *going to post about life as a dance graduate soon*, BUT am I allowed to get bigger when I don’t feel I’m small enough yet to let go?
Shut up brain.
I had a totally different post in mind, but my ED came in to ruin my day so now I’m writing about that instead!
Up until around 2pm, things were ok. Nothing out of the ordinary. I decided to walk into the centre and get a snack, which was a terrible idea. I walked around for about 2 hours going into various places. I bought several items, most of which I took a couple of bites from and threw them in the bin. They weren’t perfect enough for me to use my calories on. I ended up doing the super classy thing of eating the allotted 3 bites of brownie in the supermarket loo, so I could eat in secret and discard the bit I wasn’t allowed.
I arrived home exhausted from the afternoon of being on my feet and the mental challenge of decision making, so I fell asleep. (side note: was trying to NOT GO TO SLEEP in the day today) Ffs.
To top it off, I’ve just eaten chips. What a fucking idiot. Since when do I let myself eat more than my safe calories?! I’m fine just restricting, I swear I will kill myself if I end up binging all the time like I did back in the day. Yes, I know I’ve eaten more like a “normal” amount now, and that isnt a binge, but this is how that started before so I don’t trust it.