Anorexia and Extremes

Anorexia looks extreme: the weight loss, restriction and rituals. But it doesn’t begin that way. It creeps up on you  and hoodwinks you into allegiance to a dangerous ally. That’s my experience anyway. How are we influenced? And why?

This poem looks at two vastly different experiences. I’ve lived the experience through my cultural lens and watch my daughters struggle with their perceptions of their bodies. During my travels, I’ve come across women with far less wealth but a powerful sense of self.

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My Ongoing Relationship with Food

Food, arghhh! It’s complicated isn’t it? I love food, I really do. Even at my most vulnerable, as a restrictive anorexic, I loved food. I loved watching people enjoy food. ButI loved chips and chocolate. My mother’s ongoing sabotage of my love of greens, probably helped to keep me alive.

Mama always kept treats in our pantry. It smelled delicious, like a deli. And it was. Treats included chips and chocolate. I caved time and time again gorging and then self-flagellating. It gets better right?

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Unwrapping the Candle

Last year’s writing experiences included surprising insights. I unpicked my adolescence and refashioned it. I wrestled with my inner world conflict and attempted to capture the elusive turning point with anorexia. Profound moments hit me like bowling balls skittering pins.

Life challenged me and I lost and met myself over and over. My bucket filled and overflowed. I relived the discomfort of inner world overcrowding. My health suffered and insomnia robbed me of clarity. I spiralled in on myself like a Nautilus Shell. And in the darkness of near defeat, I finally accepted the profound effect of trauma on my life.

This poem reflects the complexities of the search, the gift a metaphor.

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ED and Christmas and 2018

Thank you for reading my blog. From my heart to yours, I wish you inner peace at Christmas. May the festive season fill our hearts with happiness and generosity. I hope to be gracious especially to those I find difficult and rekindle the optimism I’d allowed to pale this year.

I’ve been writing. I’ve re-entered my profession. To date, I’ve decided to own my ED and seek resolution by digging deep into its roots. I’m grateful interested in my blog. It is as haphazard, as the process of learning self compassion, acceptance and love. I’m being honest and sharing the process with you.

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The Dress Fitting: a Trigger for the Body Image Mire

Body image. Being female. Life’s  challenges: wedding dress or bikini? Both bring us  face to face with our bodies. They are emotionally charged experiences, all mirrors and expectations. Bikini shopping lays us bare, as close to naked as it gets. But the wedding dress final fitting puts our flaws under the  microscope on a grand scale.

Can you relate to the image of the girl on that special day, hand on tummy, breathing in, eyes avoiding while desperately seeking the mirror? She’s present but has checked out. Self-acceptance is out of her comfort zone.

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Exploring the Darkness Within

I grew up nose in a fairy tales book, a little girl who wanted to be a princess. I disliked the scary stories like Little red Riding Hood and Hansel and Gretel. The dark woods frightened me. As I grew up, I found myself there, an anorexic perfectionist deep in the forest.

It took me a long time to understand the role of the darkness in my life. This a series of questions are me unpacking the darkness.

image : http://www.clker.com/clipart-black-question-mark-square-icon.html

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Spring Winds and Scattered Petals

I’m watching  the blossom fiercely wrenched from the trees by spring winds. A metaphor? I too, am suspended in the whim of the universe, a dance so random that I can’t always keep up. I’m still writing. I’m trying to encapsulate the process of self-empowerment, an adolescent anorexic turning the tide. It ebbs and flows a staccato experience.

Writing has given me the courage to shine light into my deepest recesses. Words fail. How do I convey my truth and share something that drove me to deny myself over and over? Like the blossom, I’m stripped bare by spring winds of my pen.

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Anorexia’s Challenge: Authenticity

I consider myself recovered. But some days a small voice nags. It is still there lurking in the background. Weird things seem to trigger it, but most centre around a central theme: authenticity. I used to feel separate, Anorexia does that. It cuts you off.

Challenges are a gift. Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. Sometimes life gets me down and I struggle to see the positive. But at those moments that I feel the most disconnected, I’m again honouring the  inauthentic in my life. In a world dripping expectations, remaining true to oneself can be quite a challenge. I’m not ashamed to admit, I spent a good deal of my life chasing rainbows.

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Image: https://isorepublic.com/rainbow-during-storm/

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Anorexia Recovery

Sometimes life cracks you open and sometimes it doesn’t. Facing one’s mental health issues does. It does. Rising above the monsters that lurk behind the 2D cut out self, takes self-compassion and patience. Some would say we have to fight and slay the beast. But is it so?

I had to befriend mine. An acrostic poem …

Stock foto af 'Træ vippen i skoven blandt de grønne græs'

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