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.
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.
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.
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…
When I’m not going forward in recovery, I’m perfectly happy to accept sideways. Because moving sideways is not going backwards.
As soon as I make a little bit of progress – and find a few moments of hope and belief – I seem determined to crash and burn, just to prove to myself recovery is either impossible, or impossibly difficult.
Today I had a desperate, desperate urge to restrict. It was really important to me. I nearly did. I ate breakfast. Then […]
I dream that one day I will be freed from the shackles of anxiety’s chaos. Freed from the pounding heart, shallow breaths […]
I live in a house, surrounded by nature. I sit in bed of a morning, watching native birds sing in the tree outside my bedroom window. I can see the water. I can hear the waves. I can watch the sunrise. These things are always here. They always have been. I’ve lived in this house for 16 years.
I am a prisoner in a cell of my own making. Each morning, I stand upon the Scales of Justice to determine […]
Today I cried. I cried because I could feel the hard, solid, shell I have spent decades plastering around every inch of me cracking, leaving me soft and vulnerable, and revealing a very broken pair of wings.
I may not be a dog person, but I am acutely aware of the joy, love and hope a beloved pet can […]
I mentioned a few weeks ago that it’s time I wrote a bucket list. So here I go… Things I want to […]
I grew up in a pretty normal, conservative, middle-class household. My parents weren’t super strict. Or super lenient. They were just sort of – […]
There’s a little glimmer of warmth, burrowing into my chest. And a chink of light, peeking into my spirit. If I listen carefully I can almost hear a heart-warming song. It has taken me awhile to recognise it – the song of hope. Unfamiliar. Really scary. Really positive. Hope.
It’s so easy to focus on everything that goes wrong, everything that still needs to be fixed, and how big the fricking recovery mountain is!
It’s so easy to regret the decades where I didn’t seek recovery or acknowledge the severity of my problems. And to bemoan my many failed attempts at change, the misunderstandings of my own behaviours and those of others. To look back in frustration at not having the wisdom or strength to question my thoughts and feelings and actions.