Posts Tagged ‘Recovery’


I’ve discovered that it’s ridiculously easy to slip back to the good ol’ compulsive overeating habits.

I’ve lost almost a stone, gained a few pounds and lost them again, but I’m still finding my feet. I think my eating is probably the healthiest it’s been since … I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as healthily without being obsessed with weight loss and cutting out certain foods altogether.

But with all the salads I’ve prepared and carbs I’ve cut down on, there’s usually the urge to gorge on chocolate peeking around the corner.

Sometimes I overeat. Scratch that, most days I overeat, but the times when I’ve compulsively jammed food into my mouth as if it’s going out of fashion have been few and far between.

I’m amazed by how easily it is to have a good day with eating and exercise and then wake up the next morning and pick out sugar-coated cereal or the chocolate in the fridge without even comprehending what I’m doing. It’s as if I’m in a food trance in these moments, I don’t think about my actions because I don’t want to, and I’m pretty sure I’ve mastered this skill over the years. If there was a University degree in bingeing and ignoring what you’ve eaten, I’d be the head lecturer.

Actually snapping myself out of the trance and forcing myself to rationalise about food is still very difficult. It helps now that I’ve lost some weight, because for a long time I genuinely thought I couldn’t do it. I’m not talking losing a stone or two, realistically I’m talking eight stone. At least. It depends what my body looks and feels like. So for a while I thought I just could not lose that amount of weight, I just wasn’t strong enough.

Now I realise I can eat a healthy, balanced diet and lose weight. Whenever I go for the sugar-coated cereal I reason with myself that I can have the cereal, but I have to accept the consequences that come with it.

Such as:

  1. The guilt.
  2. Sugar cravings
  3. Possible weight gain. Not just from cereals obviously, but if the guilt and the sugar cravings then lead to overeating or bingeing.

I’ve had a hard time trying to figure out which group I’m in as well. Am I now in the category of weight loss, or can I still fit in with the Eating Disordered? I’ve felt like my blog can’t be both because some posts I’ve written I now disagree with (I’ll get to that another time though). For now I’m just going to blog less frequently than before and see where it leads me. I look forward to catching up with what other bloggers are up to as well.

How are you guys doing?!


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I’m a bad blogger.

I felt like a broken record last week, I didn’t want to write about how down I felt or moments of achievements. I kind of wanted to stop writing stuff and do them.

And … I did.

This summer has been full of risks: Filming the documentary, going to hen parties, showing my arms at the wedding (I still can’t believe I actually did that). I didn’t know these things were going to go well, and I still don’t know how the documentary will turn out, but I took the chance in doing them because I know I’d regret it if I didn’t.

A couple of weeks ago I came to the frightening conclusion that in order to move forward, I’m going to have to do a lot of things I really don’t want to do. I knew this deep down, but I was kind of pretending these things wouldn’t be so bad. I was wrong.

I’ve already done things I didn’t want to do, and the depressing part is that I’ve got to keep doing them. Most of the time I want to watch a DVD with a hot chocolate and a blanket. But not taking risks hasn’t gotten me anywhere, and although I may stumble and fall, surely that’s better than staying put.

My downfall is that I think about things too much. Eventually a trip to a friend’s house becomes an obstacle course, each obstacle becomes an opportunity for social embarrassment and worse, another reason not to try. This results in an attempt to leave the house and the inexplicable urge to run and hide. And by run and hide, I mean take cover and eat something.

The moments when I have triumphed have been the moments I haven’t thought too much about. Working myself up over showing my arms only made me anxious, thinking about all the possible outcomes of going out on a Saturday night did not help me get ready and go.

The smaller triumphs like walking in public or booking a trip to Plymouth weren’t completely over-analysed. If I’d have thought about every little aspect I wouldn’t have gone, and I’ve avoided situations because of this.

But lately I’ve been a tad reckless – applying for jobs, going to Plymouth, flirting. And it’s all worked out well for me – I’ve got a job, part time, which I’m really pleased about, I got to see a lot of people I haven’t seen on my trip to Plymouth which was great, and I flirted and was not publicly humiliated so … that’s always a positive.

That’s not the end of it, though. My next task is to start my job, and then I want to go to the gym.

The thought is terrifying, and so I’m not thinking about it. Like Nike says, Just Do It.


Mind you, it’s not easy. I’m a beginner.

Hayley Emma

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I thought I’d keep this post short and sweet with a little bit of corny thrown in.



Life has bitten me on the ass, with my Eating Disorder, financial struggles, unemployment struggles. And last year my life was slapping me around a bit.

For the past couple of weeks though, I feel like I slapped Megan in the face. And by Megan, I mean life.

It’s not breezy, it’s difficult and several times a day I feel like there’s no point in fighting back.

And life hasn’t hit me as hard as some.

The important thing is I’m fighting back now, a lot harder than just a couple of weeks ago.

I am ready for the difficult times ahead, because anything is better than staying where I’ve been for the past 10 years.

Who’s willing to join in with the fisticuffs?

Seriously guys, I’m gonna need some back up.


P.s. I love Megan. And who wouldn’t take 9 puppies?!

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I had an epiphany last night (that’s not a euphemism).

Last week I realised I needed to try to push through the depression to go for a walk each day, something I haven’t been successful in. Last night I realised that instead of just wanting to be slim and healthy, I have to believe I can get there.

My counsellor mentions that I have to believe in myself pretty often. She believes I can get over this whole Eating Disorder malarkey, but she says I need to believe in myself. I figured when I started to lose weight maybe I’d start believing I could do it, but really I was sure it was impossible.

Last night I was reading I Can Make You Thin by Paul McKenna. It loses points for having the word ‘thin’ in the title, which to me conjures up an unattainable aesthetic that I don’t want to be, but it was recommended by a fellow blogger, who has since deleted his account. There is a visualisation technique in it which requires you to imagine yourself ‘thin’, imagine seeing a film of yourself doing everyday tasks and you’re slim. The book asks you to envisage how you sound, how you talk to yourself. And then when you’ve done this, imagine you are slim.

In my imagination, my slim self – note, not thin, not skinny, I will always have a healthy bum – was happy. It kind of surprised me just how happy my slim self was, and in my slim-self fantasy, I was eating a strawberry and laughing, like it was no big deal.

Strawberries aren’t exactly the food of death, but I’d be very aware of eating the right amount of strawberries rather than too many that I’m overeating or too little that I won’t get 1 of my 5 a day. In my imagination, I’m aware that I’m eating a strawberry, but not bothered by it.

And that’s what ‘recovery’ means to me.

I know some of these thoughts and obsessions are never going to go away, and I hope to be able to acknowledge them in the future but ultimately not be overpowered by them.

An ex-housemate once left a box of chocolates lying on the sofa overnight that she’d forgotten about, and it blew my mind. How could she have left chocolate, a half full box of chocolates downstairs AWAY FROM HER on the sofa where anybody could have had them ALL NIGHT and not been thinking about them every second?

I couldn’t fathom it. I kept looking at them, obsessing about them for her – I would never have eaten them, they weren’t mine. There was temptation though, don’t go thinking I’m a saint.

I don’t know if I’ll ever have that attitude to food, that nonchalance. I think that’s too far the other way for me. But recovery to me means that I’d acknowledge the box of chocolates, accept the thoughts of stealing them and bingeing on them and somehow trying to replace them and eat the exact same chocolates so she wouldn’t be suspicious, and then move on.

What does ‘recovery’ mean to you? And have you ever been in that will-I-get-caught-if-I-nab-that-biscuit kind of situation?


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Fiona is wise. I’ve said it many times before and i’ll say it again, Fiona has wise words and her blog is brilliant.

I’m over the moon that Fiona has managed to do such an emotive piece of therapy and has listed her incredible accomplishes against what appears to be an unstoppable force that is her Anorexia.

I know she’s going to recover fully, because she is one tough cookie!



P.s. Funny cat pictures win everytime.

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