Life is too short

I found out today that my next door neighbour passed away yesterday after a stroke. Her husband died back in December and she never got over it. They were a very well-known couple in our village and I even worked for them when I was at school. I saw their son-in-law earlier while out walking and he was saying how life is too short and that we should make the most of the precious time we have. If only he realised how much I needed to hear that today and regain my focus. It is just a shame it accompanies such sad news but at least my neighbours are back together again in heaven.

Why?

Why do I care so much what others think? Why am I so hung up on not putting on weight and yet know that I need to in order for my body to function properly? Why does it matter so much? Why can't I just be happy to be alive? I have an amazing husband, a gorgeous dog, a beautiful house, fantastic family and yet I am not happy. Why? I wish I knew the answer, I wish I could just relax and be satisified with what I have got rather than stressing and worrying about what is missing. I always focus on the negative and dwell on the bad stuff yet I don't know why. I HATE feeling so shit most of the time and yet I can't seem to get over it no matter how hard I try. Maybe that is the problem, I'm trying too hard.

I wish I knew the answer and could fix it. What is best? Who knows? Least of all me at the moment. However, I WILL not stop until I find out.

New week, let's begin again. Again.

After a positive start to last week, the end of my week got ahead of me and had a few "slip ups" from Thursday onwards. However, I still (mostly) managed to enjoy my weekend and despite feeling unsure of how today was going to turn out, I finally am starting to feel brighter and a bit more positive again. It w3as a slow starting morning but I managed my breakfast and feel much better now.

I also have a new porject to help keep me occupied. I am helping to organise and coordinate a music event at our local village hall which takes place next month. Not working has seen me have way too much time on my hands but now I have a few tasks to do and things to get involved in. Just managing to write a 'to do' list and be able to slowly cross things off helps. At least that way i can track my progress for each day. Small steps again, maybe even shuffles, but at least they are going in the right direction.

Here's to the sunshine, that has obviously lifted me too!!

It has been a while!

I haven't posted for a very long time, or even been on here for that matter. I would love to tell you it is because I have been recovering amazingly and living life to the full but that would be a blatant lie. However, lots has happened and although I remain very up and down in my progress I AM still FIGHTING. That is one thing that will never stop.

Where do I start? Since my last post, lots of things have happened. Weekly therapy finished (3 month follow-up fast approaching), I went to America with a friend, finished my temping job, had foot surgery, stayed with my Mum for a couple of weeks, had the 5 year anniversary of my Dad's death and many other less significant things. In all that time the only constant was my bulimia. I used it as a way of coping for all the things that happened and also to occupy me at times when I felt as if i was dying of boredom. I have felt like I have been steadily falling apart over the last couple of months and much worse in my eating and mood than I have ever been. However, I finally used all my time to think (am still not working or doing a lot due to my foot amongst other things) and phoned my 'Care Coordinator' at the hospital last Thursday. I arranged to meet with her for a review this week to catch up on things and brainstorm ways to occupy my days better rather than opting for my default 'time-filler' of bulimia. Since speaking on Thursday I feel better and have had an amazing weekend, met with the psychologist and actually realised I am doing a hell of a lot better than I thought I was. What I was tending to do because I have a stupid amount of time to myself alone was to dwell on the bad days, not realising that there were (most weeks) more good than bad. Actually talking to her and saying things out loud made me see things a lot clearer and realise just how far I have come on my journey. Yes, I still have a few bad days BUT I am picking myself up better than I EVER have AND I am still fighting. I will get there eventually and I know I am only at the beginning of my epic journey but for once this doesn't scare me, it only makes me more determined to keep going no matter how small my steps seem so far.