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Tag: hope

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Ever been really excited to go to the movies? Waiting and waiting for the release date and you just know it’s going to be great because it has your favourite actor in it, and you loved the book when you were 16, and your oldest friend who you never have time to catch up with can’t wait to see it with you. Finally it’s available on the big screen and you’re too busy working, and getting a root canal, and organising driving lessons for your own 16 year old, so the movie is down to the last days of showing. Two days before it leaves town, you finally go with a group of friends.

DREAM WRITING

Today I did some dream writing. It was a technique I learned through Joanne when I did her Seven Day Challenge. I was super teary and tired when I started the day today. It’s been a bit of a rough road but you know – that’s life. These things happen. It’ll be fine. I knew I needed to do some writing and couldn’t think of what I needed to write. So I thought I would do some dream writing – I want to mix and match a lot of writing over the period of this January challenge (have I mentioned the January challenge is to write a thousand words every single day? Which doesn’t daunt me in the least. But I don’t want to write the same thousand words in the same boring place every day.) So today I thought – dream writing. And I did. Dream writing involves setting a timer for a set period of time (just 15 minutes today), starting with a “prompt”, and then letting your hand flow across the page for the entire time without stopping or resting or going back at all – just an unbroken stream of thoughts. I wrote the prompt “In the clinic I hope to…” and then my hand flew across the page for fifteen minutes with the following stream of consciousness.

MELANCHOLY

I’m consumed with sadness today. I know it’s the stupid drug, but fuck it’s annoying. On the upside, the psychiatrist rang and said to wean myself off and I’m being admitted into the inpatient eating disorder unit instead. It’s a strange world where that seems like a good thing – right?

WELCOME TO THE NEW YEAR

I used to be gung ho about making New Years’ resolutions – now I know better. I am old and wise. But that is not to say this is not a good time to reflect on the year that has been and put behind me those moments I never wish to see again. We all have a few of those – of that I am quite sure. And to look ahead to new beginnings for the year ahead and make plans for both the would-be hedonist who loves to live it up whenever she has the opportunity, and the practical lass who knows we all have responsibilities and that – occasionally – bills must be paid.

NOT BROKEN. STUCK

I’ve started a course in Acceptance & Commitment Therapy and while I’m very early in the process (halfway through week one 😀 ) I have already found a lovely little snippet that really resonated with me. And I mean REALLY resonated!

I’m not broken. I’m stuck.

A STEP FORWARD

I’ve been farting around in recovery land for years now – and I’m still lost. I know I’ve made progress – and this is a jolly good thing – but change is minimal when it comes to the movement of fork to lips. My progress is more in emotional regulation than eating behaviours.

THAT FINE LINE BETWEEN BRAVERY & STUPIDITY

I keep receiving lovely messages of support for my blog posts – thank you 🙂 I am very touched by every message, and moreso with the knowledge my innermost waffle is read and appreciated by others. It really is very comforting. I also keep receiving lovely messages saying how brave I am for sharing so openly and honestly. For revealing so many of my ugly truths and personal struggles. Again – I thank you all for the support, but I’m also left wondering, am I doing the right thing?

FAILURE

There is a magnificent quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson titled, Success. I found it many moons ago, had it printed and laminated, then stuck on the toilet wall for my children to read and absorb. Now the mirror to success is failure. And it is so easy to fear failure.

BANDED

In April 2012 I was 46 years old. I’d battled weight my entire life and I was tired. All the weight I’d previously lost was back on – again. All the tricks I’d used before were failing. I tried eating less, exercising more, eating more, exercising less. Shakes and weird shit and anything I could think of. I was still fat and getting fatter. So in tears and desperation, I made an appointment to see an obesity surgeon on a Thursday. He had a cancellation the following Monday. I booked in, had a gastric lap band fitted, and changed my life.

RESTRICTED

At a support group last year, however, one lovely lady mentioned something I’d never been told before. Something I’d never considered. You’re bingeing because you restrict, she said. I thought that was hilarious.

THE BODYGUARD

I believe my bodyguard is Coco. He is a cat. A beautiful, loving, devoted cat who considers himself human. He is intelligent and devoted and loyal. He loves without condition and demonstrates self-care without an ounce of regret or indecision.

IN MY OWN TIME

It is absolutely true that many people who commence recovery – from anything – progress at a faster rate. They make changes and those changes stick, perhaps with some small relapses, but a fairly linear recovery process. That’s awesome – I wish I was one of those people! But I’m not…