tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84405278256933101692024-03-20T11:24:17.942+00:00Truly ScrumptiousGemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.comBlogger221125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-39707262783097403352016-05-20T15:40:00.003+01:002016-05-20T15:40:59.940+01:00Anxiety who?<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>It is never too late to be what you might have been</i></div>
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<i>T.S Elliot</i></div>
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17 days ago I stopped taking my anxiety medication. 17 days ago I decided I wanted to feel again, to experience the highs and lows of life, to walk through life completely aware of my surroundings, embracing my emotions rather than having them numbed by medication. For 4 years I have been medicated, relying on a tiny tablet to increase the amount of serotonin in my brain, then the above quote landed in my inbox and I realised it was time to be 'me' again. </div>
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I had already started the slow, arduous task of reducing my dose, over the last 8 months I have gone from taking 40mgs every day to 10mgs every other day to nothing. Don't get me wrong I still carry the pack around with me, even now as I sit on the sofa the knowledge that they are in my purse brings me a reassuring amount of comfort, should I need them I know they are there but I am determined to not succumb. </div>
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The last 17 days haven't been easy, I have experienced a ridiculous amount of emotional highs and lows all of which were out of my control and yet I am still here, still determined and still going strong. </div>
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I am excited to see what life is like without the comforting blanket of Citalopram.</div>
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Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-64607454320479073382016-03-10T19:44:00.001+00:002016-03-10T19:44:17.430+00:00She's backMaybe she isn't the same as before but ana is back, I have failed and let her back in, what started out as a gentle whisper in my ear has now become an almost impossible to ignore voice telling me I am not good enough and the worst thing is I am starting to believe her,<br />
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The fear of not being enough is overwhelming, I have attempted to prove her wrong and every time I have succeeded only in making things worse, not just for me but those I love most too. I am scared, scared that I am not strong enough, scared that she will worm her way back into my life, scared that she is still there, scared about what will become of me. I am 29 years old for goodness sake and yet here I am sitting at a laptop with tears pouring down my face, emotionally exhausted from trying to hold it together.<br />
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I chase perfection in myself and when I don't achieve it I either exercise or stop eating. My sense of worth is so wrapped up in how 'perfect' I am (or not as the case may be) that I am destined to never succeed. I push myself to breaking point in every aspect of my life - I want to be the perfect friend, partner, daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, auntie the list is endless and exhausting. To me failure is not an option, yet I seem to be messing up at every turn and all that does is prove that 'she' is correct.<br />
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I so desperately don't want her to be a part of my life, I honestly don't want to go back to the place I was, yet at the same time I honestly don't know how to stop myself being led down the all familiar path. <br />
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Fighting is exhausting, chasing perfection is exhausting.<br />
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Right now the only positive I can see is that I am aware of how I am feeling, I am determined to succeed in this battle, I have done it once so there is no reason why I can't do it again.Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-82831680909286279432016-01-16T21:34:00.001+00:002016-01-16T22:26:36.238+00:00A return<p dir="ltr">So I'm back, after almost 5 months of not writing I have realised that I need someone to vent, to store memories, a place where I can be unapologetically me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">This year I turn 30 and my life is nowhere near how I expected it to be but I am learning that isn't such a bad thing. I am carving a new life out for myself, I know who I am and what I want out of life, now I just have to go out and get it!!</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSFAuJpNnNj5w5tqwTtG6dFFyquWI5PW9wT1RmUFTh9CR2XYgEuM-68V4JVQTmkFAxdibaCRDpLnchyphenhyphenkNg9XbTB1c6jTB0bMyZZCyx8pNSCBj3hzvlBgZh_vM_hUj5ezIFZNQ7wXMH5IYB/s1600/IMG_20150914_223931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSFAuJpNnNj5w5tqwTtG6dFFyquWI5PW9wT1RmUFTh9CR2XYgEuM-68V4JVQTmkFAxdibaCRDpLnchyphenhyphenkNg9XbTB1c6jTB0bMyZZCyx8pNSCBj3hzvlBgZh_vM_hUj5ezIFZNQ7wXMH5IYB/s640/IMG_20150914_223931.jpg"> </a> </div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-48091680205880776522015-08-20T23:42:00.001+01:002015-08-20T23:42:25.391+01:00No fear<p dir="ltr">The title of this blog post is a bit of a lie, at one point I had ALL the fear....</p>
<p dir="ltr">This week I attempted climbing, after a trip to Wales and discovering just how much I love scrambling (at one point I was compared to a mountain goat which pleased me!!) climbing seemed to be the next natural progression. I have big ambitions of spending next summer in the Alps climbing, practising yoga and seeing in my 30th birthday so I have to start somewhere.</p>
<p dir="ltr">In this case somewhere is Symonds Yat rock located in the beautiful Forest of Dean. I was full of confidence convinced I would be stood at the top with no problems at all, oh how wrong I was! After a quick lesson in different knots I was strapped into a harness and off I went. The confidence I had quickly drained away climbing is bloody hard!! My first couple of attempts were a disaster - I couldn't see suitable handholds, I had absolutely no confidence in my own body strength, my brain switched off and a horrible fear crept in and consumed my body. I absailed back to the ground tears in my eyes, beyond angry at myself. Once I had 2 feet on the ground I exploded, I was furious with myself for giving up. I cried, shouted, stamped my feet, kicked rocks and refused to listen to reason - I was getting up the rock if it killed me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">We agreed to one last attempt, hunger was setting in and my muscles were ridiculously fatigued. One last try to get to the top, being stubborn I was absolutely determined I was going to make it. I set off, my hands finding holds that my eyes couldn't see, my feet appeared to stick to the rock rather than slipping away underneath me. My body was with me, my brain not so much I had some ridiculous music riff stuck in my head but it seemed to work so hey ho! The top was in reach, elated I pulled myself up and admired the view, my heart was pounding, my arms ached, my legs had acquired more bruises but I had made it!</p>
<p dir="ltr">My overwhelming belief that I can do anything I put my mind to is stronger than ever. My heart and head are working together to keep me chasing adventure and I couldn't be more excited about what the future holds.</p>
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<p dir="ltr">Where to start? I don't want to go into that much detail about my marriage breakdown but I am happy now which tells me the decision was correct. Seperating is never fun no matter what the circumstances, unfortunately I have learnt the hard way which of my friends and family support me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Recovery is great, really really incredible. Reaching this place has been real hard work, a combination of tears, relapsing, discovering a unknown strength but it is really worth it. Recovery has opened my eyes to how wonderful life can be when I am not consummed with fear about food.</p>
<p dir="ltr">This summer has been great, a trip to Wales opened my eyes to the joys of scrambling (there is a blog post coming soon all about Wales). I have spent quality time with my family, seen friends and read a vast number of books.<br></p><p dir="ltr"><br></p><p dir="ltr"><br></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ijvJZf05m0koXwS44WO7y_VzO7BOlzmSM1HSjGEuAxfiXuv1vZHOV1KQhhvItcj-6KUyBWOJt6p0KmD6R9jjB0xLIMOMrf6jFHB5CvkG_lt769jvfErTjSh9JJ2BG4hourVHh6tq9ab0/s1600/20150730_114226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ijvJZf05m0koXwS44WO7y_VzO7BOlzmSM1HSjGEuAxfiXuv1vZHOV1KQhhvItcj-6KUyBWOJt6p0KmD6R9jjB0xLIMOMrf6jFHB5CvkG_lt769jvfErTjSh9JJ2BG4hourVHh6tq9ab0/s640/20150730_114226.jpg"> </a> </div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-3128633738175603712015-06-04T21:56:00.001+01:002015-06-04T21:57:27.953+01:00Brain dump<p dir="ltr">This blog has become something of a diary to me, it is a place where I don't feel alone, to vent, to be unapologetically me. It is my own little space where I can get my thoughts out without having to descramble them or worry what anyone else might think. I have celebrated and cried over the things I have shared on this little blog. Tonight I am overwhelmed, my body is falling to pieces around me, my emotions are all over the place and worse of all ana is getting ever stronger.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Since December I have had one UTI after another annoyingly I get no symptoms so they don't show up until the GP does a urine test, I have had an awful lot of antibiotics but still they come back. I am now on antibiotics (again) to try and kill off yet another infection. I really am at the end of my tether now, I can't deal with being so run down and my body doesn't appear to be dealing with antibiotics very well. Oh fun fact - I now bruise like a peach too.</p>
<p dir="ltr">On top of the constant UTI's I have also found I'm either on the verge of tears or actually crying far too often just recently, I am an emotional person anyway (I cry when Baloo pretends to be dead in the Jungle Book!) but it is getting ridiculous now. I know I am under an incredible amount of pressure right now but there must be someway of keeping my emotions in check surely? </p>
<p dir="ltr">Where to start with ana? I'm not sure if she ever really vanished I think she was always there lurking in my brain ready for me to feel vunerable so she could strike. I know just how destructive she is yet I find myself seeking comfort in her words. I hope that being so aware means I am not heading back down the path I have already walked, that acknowledging her is a good thing. I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place I have fought so bloody hard to get to where I am today and yet, perversely, I am reluctant to let her go. No wonder my head is such a tangled mess right now.....</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtd5yHgJBu8wA7PVAbFwu8wEZJyfx7QTyDP1o0feC-0vkDTqufAMr6fVD2Kwcx2b8Yro560s9zzcklzuIRcMa1DdqL9jDObDvhKRc-Q6EW9Sz0QR5FwlxmV15JuRP9R2frKlmwxP3T5le-/s1600/IMG_20150416_213110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtd5yHgJBu8wA7PVAbFwu8wEZJyfx7QTyDP1o0feC-0vkDTqufAMr6fVD2Kwcx2b8Yro560s9zzcklzuIRcMa1DdqL9jDObDvhKRc-Q6EW9Sz0QR5FwlxmV15JuRP9R2frKlmwxP3T5le-/s640/IMG_20150416_213110.jpg"> </a> </div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-72425617048201138032015-05-24T21:10:00.001+01:002015-05-24T21:10:25.679+01:00Catch up<p dir="ltr">Wow, where does the time go? It feels like only yesterday that I sat down to write yet it was ages ago - determined to write regularly from now on though.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So where to begin? I am still waiting for my laparoscopy to be rescheduled, a uti, skin infection and 3 weeks of antibiotics have hindered progress so far but I am hoping it will be sooner rather than later, the pain and bloating has become unbearable.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I have unfortunately separated from my partner, details of which don't need to be published here. Whilst it has been a tough time I am coming out the other side.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I have been discharged from the eating disorder service, whilst I am immensly proud of myself I am also a bit scared about what the future may hold. I am determined to be strong and carry on ignoring anas faint voice.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I think that might be all for now, had lots of lovely days out just recently that I can't wait to share with you all. </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiif9io-SVodBidS6KOe1OtxjhSViXuZ886dxCRj7rU49Yy-G2JMV_WR3UaIrdk8wEOEURkyrCoz4fCTJeVgWvb7aEOffLH_logdNT9zFKLpR9qScPQFIXhdylw6X1a1Eh3OwMH9IQkfsfx/s1600/IMG_20150523_145633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiif9io-SVodBidS6KOe1OtxjhSViXuZ886dxCRj7rU49Yy-G2JMV_WR3UaIrdk8wEOEURkyrCoz4fCTJeVgWvb7aEOffLH_logdNT9zFKLpR9qScPQFIXhdylw6X1a1Eh3OwMH9IQkfsfx/s640/IMG_20150523_145633.jpg"> </a> </div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-22812808722936856572015-04-13T22:05:00.001+01:002015-04-13T22:05:40.026+01:00Disappointed<p dir="ltr">Today I was supposed to have a laparoscopy to treat Endometriosis. Today was a day I had built up in my head, a day for answers, the start of a painfree existance. Instead the operation got cancelled, thanks to a UTI I am now back playing the waiting game.</p>
<p dir="ltr">To say I am broken hearted is an understatement, I am struggling to pick myself up and get over the disappointment if I am being completely honest.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Stupid body, stupid UTI, stupid endometriosis.<br></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0m6hKl7dLjQre6SLDqOexGcXsPa97ICxT23zi2XFaRIZ1GtrhQlCQbM2NZqyHyxnWieU2aGLtpls3em8EAiZ9oJOkRxjosAli54zc2dTbrEL9QYvhvzQcVCrDCbQYwOdVxpAFHN_UCCbp/s1600/IMG_20150413_102432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0m6hKl7dLjQre6SLDqOexGcXsPa97ICxT23zi2XFaRIZ1GtrhQlCQbM2NZqyHyxnWieU2aGLtpls3em8EAiZ9oJOkRxjosAli54zc2dTbrEL9QYvhvzQcVCrDCbQYwOdVxpAFHN_UCCbp/s640/IMG_20150413_102432.jpg"> </a> </div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-47166269497990988112015-02-23T19:01:00.003+00:002015-02-23T19:01:39.172+00:00What my ED taught meMy body is incredible. Every single day I denied it food and forced it to work out yet every single day it kept me alive. My heart made sure that my blood was flowing, my lungs took in oxygen, my body made sure that I woke up every morning. At my lowest point my body never ever gave up on me, no matter how many times I gave up on it. That is pretty damn incredible in my opinion.<br /><br /><div>
Thanks to my eating disorder I have met some incredible people, people who I now consider to be my friends. Friends who have always supported me, asked the right questions at the right time, understood exactly what I was going through. Whilst I never ever want to fall back into the darkest times of my ed I am grateful for the incredible people it brought into my life.</div>
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I am stronger than I ever realised. Recovery is hard - really hard, but I have never given up on myself. I make the decision to eat every day, no matter how much 'she' might be screaming at me not to. I fight a battle with myself and every day I try my best to pick the right side, I never thought I would be able to ignore her but look at me now!</div>
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There are probably a ton of other things but my brain has decided to switch off - helpful (!) so I will be updating this post regularly.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random summer picture because I am dreaming of sunshine right now!</td></tr>
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Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-72009340771189416322015-01-30T12:31:00.000+00:002015-01-30T12:31:40.133+00:00Poem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I found this poem on Pinterest the other evening and wanted to share it with you all, I absolutely adore it.</div>
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<br />Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-74023573272287007312015-01-28T21:14:00.001+00:002015-01-28T21:14:40.586+00:00Silently Screaming<div>
The last few weeks have been really tough, spending four days in hospital between Christmas and the New Year meant that I didn't start 2015 in the best possible way. Over the last 4 weeks I have had countless blood tests, scans and appointments with my GP (who fortunately is fantastic and really seems to understand my need to have answers). After being referred onto a gynaecologist things have really started to move forward now, I have been really fortunate that my local private hospital accepts NHS patients so rather than waiting for an appointment to come through I was seen within 2 weeks. My consultant is an incredible man who has vowed to get to the bottom of the pain, after 4 months of pain you can understand my relief that the end may be in sight. My consultant has already told me that he is certain the endometriosis has returned and that the only way of being sure is to go in and have a look - he has agreed to remove my appendix at the same time (over the years whenever I have had a flare up I have spent at least 24 hours on a ward being observed for appendicitis not having an appendix rules this out immediately). Whilst I am getting close to finding out the reason for the constant pain the questions keep building up.</div>
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Could I be responsible? Has my battle with an eating disorder turned my body against me? Has my body finally crumpled under the immense amount of stress I have put it under? Of course the logical part of my brain says that I haven't given myself endometriosis, that unfortunately this is just the hand I have been dealt in life, that logic doesn't help though. I have lost track of the amount of times I have cried, silently sobbing, my chest heaving and my body crumbling as I try to cope with the pain and keep on going. There is one question, a question that has been floating around my brain for a couple of years now, a question with an answer I still don't think I am strong enough to face, that of my own fertility.</div>
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Ever since I was a young girl I have always wanted to be mummy, it never crossed my mind growing up that I wouldn't be able to. Even when I was diagnosed in my early twenties I still didn't really think there would be any problems, now though is time to face up to facts. I don't have regular periods, I never have, unless I have tests done there is no way of knowing for sure that I ovulate every month. I always anticipated that when the time was right I would just get pregnant, now that seems like a ridiculous notion. I can't imagine myself having a child, I think my brain has almost blocked the idea to protect me from any possible heartache down the line. After the laparoscopy it will be time to invest my fertility, I don't know that I am in the right place to find out now but then again I don't know if I will ever be in the right place.</div>
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2015 looks like it will be the year for answers, good or bad. Whatever the outcome I will have to face facts, brush myself down and continue moving forward with my life. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas Day picture because why not?!</td></tr>
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Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-59570168611760942342014-12-23T15:21:00.001+00:002014-12-23T15:21:39.080+00:00Don't be alone<div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">The wonderful Big Fashionista has again collected a list of numbers and websites that may be of use over the festive period. It is because of this list that 2 years ago I was able to reach out and find the advice I so desperately needed, I am indebted to Kellie and will be forever grateful for her support. If you need an ear this Christmas then please pick up the phone and speak to someone.</div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">The words below are all Kellies and she says it much better then me.</div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">If you feel that you have hit rock bottom and you feel empty inside, If you can see the lights twinkling in other peoples windows, hear the laughter of your neighbours and yet you experience no joy, as if the world is a dark place in which you see no place for yourself any more. <br><br>Or if you feel that you are ready to make a change.<br><br>I want you to pick up the phone.....</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><o:p> </o:p>MIND</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.mind.org.uk/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.mind.org.uk</a><br><br><a href="tel:0300 123 3393" style="text-decoration: none;">0300 123 3393</a><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Samaritans</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.samaritans.org/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.samaritans.org</a><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><a href="tel:08457 90 90 90" style="text-decoration: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000">08457 90 90 90</font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Alcoholics Anonymous</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/newcomers" style="text-decoration: none;">www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/newcomers</a><br><br><o:p><a href="tel:0845 769 7555" style="text-decoration: none;">0845 769 7555</a></o:p><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Stonewall</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.stonewall.org.uk/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.stonewall.org.uk</a><br><br>Info line <a href="tel:08000 50 20 20" style="text-decoration: none;">08000 50 20 20</a> <br><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><strong>London Lesbian and Gay Switchboard</strong><br><br><a href="tel:0207 837 7324" style="text-decoration: none;">0207 837 7324</a></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><strong>SANELine</strong><br><br></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><a href="http://www.sane.org.uk/" style="text-decoration: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000">www.sane.org.uk</font></a></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="tel:0845 767 8000" style="text-decoration: none;">0845 767 8000</a><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><strong>Preventing young suicide</strong></span></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.papyrus-uk.org/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.papyrus-uk.org</a> <br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">National self-help body for the Transgender community</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">BEAUMONT SOCIETY</b></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">http://www.beaumontsociety.org.uk</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">For people in Northern Ireland</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.lifeline.info/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.lifeline.info</a><br><br><a href="tel:0808 808 8000" style="text-decoration: none;">0808 808 8000</a><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><strong>Childline</strong></span></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.childline.org.uk/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.childline.org.uk</a> <br><br><a href="tel:0800 1111" style="text-decoration: none;">0800 1111</a><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Depressionalliance</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.depressionalliance.org/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.depressionalliance.org</a><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Refuge</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.refuge.org.uk/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.refuge.org.uk</a><br><br><a href="tel:0808 2000 247" style="text-decoration: none;">0808 2000 247</a><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Eating Disorders Association</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.edauk.com/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.edauk.com</a> <br><br><a href="tel:0845 634 1414" style="text-decoration: none;">0845 634 1414</a><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Shelter</strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><a href="http://www.shelter.org.uk/" style="text-decoration: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000">www.shelter.org.uk</font></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><a href="tel:0808 800 4444" style="text-decoration: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000">0808 800 4444</font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">NHS Direct</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.nhsdirect.nhs.uk/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.nhsdirect.nhs.uk</a> <br><br><a href="tel:0845 4647" style="text-decoration: none;">0845 4647</a><br><br></font><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">No Panic</strong></div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="http://www.no-panic.co.uk/" style="text-decoration: none;">www.no-panic.co.uk</a><br><br><a href="tel:0808 808 0545" style="text-decoration: none;">0808 808 0545</a><br><br><br><br>If you need someone, please call one of these numbers. You are NOT alone over Christmas, there are people out there that care, I care. <br><br><br>I wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.<br><br><br>Love Always<br><br></font></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Kellie (Big Fashionista).................<br><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">www.bigfashionista.co.uk</div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-3180174473912696972014-11-20T23:25:00.001+00:002014-11-20T23:29:42.878+00:00Dying to live<i style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Before I continue with this blog post I want you to be well aware that it may be triggering. If you are feeling vulnerable then I urge you to not carry on reading.</i><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">The past few weeks have been really hard on me and as a result I've found myself relapsing quite badly. Whilst I don't currently want to share the circumstances that have led to my current state I know that my mental well being has deteriorated because of the situation I found myself in. For me when things start spiralling out of control i find myself restricting in order to feel on top of one area of my life.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I am aware that relapsing is unfortunately part of the recovery process, that sometimes we need to go backwards in order to see the progress we have made. This time it feels different though, there was no gradual descent, instead I fell straight back into Ana's trap. Rather than taking a few steps backwards I feel like I am right back at the start again. Once again I am surviving on next to nothing, existing on coffee and diet coke, relying on an adrenaline kick to get me through hours of dancing. I am constantly exhausted, my body is craving sleep, my skin bruising at the slightest knock. I am always cold.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">My therapist has been incredible, she provides a safe haven, a place where I can cry, a sanctuary to talk through my deepest darkest demons without fear of repercussions. None of this helps, I am constantly aware of the amount of people I have let down by relapsing, talking openly about my struggles doesn't make me brave it merely proves that I am human. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Today's therapy session ended with me being told that I either fight harder than ever or I slowly kill myself. They are tough words for anyone to hear, ultimately my future will be decided by what path I decide to take now. I will fight harder than I've ever fought for anything in my life. I want a future, I want to live.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGiBV77F_-fFidrateORJz3GaGAp4Yx8HfJ2Qa9g6s9uQJZYyC9O85UgJB81QZgoQixKZyQVubL6pFd6lK23rPyczWz9LyTKd2_Qy5pRR3thoDiFjLnxH3Xf3IxDb6wFjhYq8UfVDNt-d/s640/blogger-image--853266531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGiBV77F_-fFidrateORJz3GaGAp4Yx8HfJ2Qa9g6s9uQJZYyC9O85UgJB81QZgoQixKZyQVubL6pFd6lK23rPyczWz9LyTKd2_Qy5pRR3thoDiFjLnxH3Xf3IxDb6wFjhYq8UfVDNt-d/s640/blogger-image--853266531.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">To all those people who have contacted me thanking me for helping them, I will fight this for you.</div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-51059550703170107122014-11-04T10:34:00.001+00:002014-11-04T10:34:40.714+00:00Oxford Half MarathonFinally getting round to writing about my half marathon experience and what an experience it was!<br />
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My training in the lead up to the half was shoddy to say the least, I managed just ONE 12 mile run before hand and that was through the beautiful Blean Woods - not road as I should have been training on. I'm not entirely sure why I was so lax with the training, I always knew I could finish the half and maybe that over confidence got to me a little bit.<br />
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So race day came around, I was a bag of nerves, what the hell was I doing? The reason why I was able to complete the 10km was because I had committed to raising the money for charity, the half was a personal challenge, no sponsorship money just my own sheer determination. As I made my way to the starting line my legs were shaking and all sorts of things were going through my head, namely was I really going to be able to keep going for 13.1 miles without giving up.<br />
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The race was officially started by Sir Rodger Bannister, what an inspiration man - the race also included a lap of the track where he completed the first sub 4 minute mile. I was so far back that I couldn't hear all of what he was saying but I definitely got caught up in the occasion. The more serious runners stressed me out - they seemed so much more prepared for me, but I also knew that I wouldn't come in last (something that for some reason is very important to me). The race started and as usual I went off too quickly, 2 miles in and I was wondering what the hell I was doing, I slowed down and found my own pace that I was comfortable with.<br />
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I was lucky that I had my family spread out around the route ready to cheer me on, I will never underestimate the boost that seeing someone you know can give you.<br />
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10km came and went and I was feeling strong, I had got myself into a rhythm and I felt good, my legs were carrying me closer to the finish line, my brain was clear of everything. Then I hit 8 miles. 8 miles in and I hit the proverbial wall. Doubts came into my head, my legs were heavy, my arms could no pump me forward. I slowed down, I stopped running and walked, berating myself for giving in. There was no way I was not going to finish the race but I doubted I could carry on running. Then, like a gift from above, someone ran alongside me and encouraged me to keep going, he slowed down and set me a new pace, he told me to keep going and that I could do it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_UJYogwdyg6cS10kWOFU9jVptpBn-eTcy6dM47Q4Qm2MYGZgJSoxlsbWktgnyytcVzE8RfKtfhWXqn5i7xMilZwdWkm16QROGRnnhCwIpjAVd3T8_Tgcdmu8HU6rJQhAw_s_9OdQrijP/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_UJYogwdyg6cS10kWOFU9jVptpBn-eTcy6dM47Q4Qm2MYGZgJSoxlsbWktgnyytcVzE8RfKtfhWXqn5i7xMilZwdWkm16QROGRnnhCwIpjAVd3T8_Tgcdmu8HU6rJQhAw_s_9OdQrijP/s1600/4.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guess who spotted the family!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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9 miles arrived, I was back, I was running. Yes it hurt like hell, the hills were completely unexpected but I conquered them, each time feeling better than the last time. I knew the finish line was fast approaching, thanks to my trusted TomTom watch I knew I was close to completing the race in my desired time. My body took over, it knew it had to keep going. My brain started imagining what it would be like to cross the finish line.<br />
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10 miles in and I was crying, tears running down my face. The emotion came from nowhere, the niggling voice that told me I couldn't do it disappeared. I knew I could do it I knew that I was going to cross the finish line, I also knew that I had enough left in the bank to speed up.<br />
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13 miles - the end was insight, my legs kept going, a quick glance at my watch and BAM I was on for a sub 2.30 (my aim all along) I crossed the finish line in a time of 2 hours 25 minutes. I was absolutely thrilled, I knew I could have gone quicker but who cares I had completed my first half!!<br />
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Thanks have to go to the people who cheered me on and my fellow runners who kept me going, special thanks also have to go to the man at 8 miles who helped me dig deeper to find strength I didn't know existed inside me.<br />
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<i>Since completing the half I have since agreed to run the Brighton Marathon in April for Breast Cancer Care - stay tuned for my marathon journey!!</i><br />
<br />Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-4651985893270619082014-11-03T19:39:00.000+00:002014-11-03T19:39:04.238+00:00LifeWhen did life get so difficult? When did it all start going wrong? These questions and many, many more have been racing round my head the past few days. At what point do you give in and admit defeat? Should you ever give in?<br />
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I am, at heart an optimist. Growing up I gave into the Disney dream - the prince, the castle, the happily ever after, what I didn't expect was that it would be so frigging hard! What is the reward for constantly battling? What was the biggest challenge a disney princess ever had to face? When did they deal with an argument, or an eating disorder or possible infertility. When life gets tough who do you look too? Where are the role models for us girls who are struggling?!<br />
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I don't want to give up on my dream of a happy ending, I maybe just have to admit that life isn't as straight forward as I was hoping it would be when I was younger. I have so much in my life to be grateful for, is in ungrateful to wish for more?<br />
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I don't have a plan, I have an idea of what I want my life to be, an inkling of the direction I want it to be going in. I guess now is the time to start moving forwards, whether that may be.</div>
Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-52458562980706621832014-10-06T20:04:00.001+01:002014-10-06T20:04:28.887+01:00Loulou Jane<span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">People of Lingfield rejoice! If you follow me on Twitter then you will already know how much I love a good cup of tea and coffee. After 'The Place To Meet' shut its doors I wondered if I would ever get to enjoy tea and cake on a Friday before work, now I know I can. A couple of weeks ago I stumbled across the amazing 'Loulou Jane', almost instantly I was hooked this place is just so me. </span><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">As a nut allergy sufferer I was especially impressed at the lengths the staff went to to make sure I could enjoy a safe slice of cake - picking just one was difficult! All of the goodies on offer at Loulou Jane are homemade using locally sourced ingredients.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div><br></div><div>From the interesting decor to the scrummy looking cakes Loulou Jane has it all and then some, even down to a children's room which I am yet to experience (although I've had a couple of peeps into it)!</div></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Having already visited twice I have to be honest and admit that I cannot wait for Friday to roll around so I can visit again.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_uxYJpPH7JNP0KFSeoGFebzOzCANcOG28iNBX_HO_9nz5FmpUeydHPH9zd9dNpgJMKMEfQ1_axjJ158MkIsOvNseX-Pzlt3wcHt0NZl96nqVfLj1c1j9OlRlWGvlkSOLou-L5dUenpbW/s640/blogger-image-1929001893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_uxYJpPH7JNP0KFSeoGFebzOzCANcOG28iNBX_HO_9nz5FmpUeydHPH9zd9dNpgJMKMEfQ1_axjJ158MkIsOvNseX-Pzlt3wcHt0NZl96nqVfLj1c1j9OlRlWGvlkSOLou-L5dUenpbW/s640/blogger-image-1929001893.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge3WGwJd_o1LAyE7eI0zjJbZR3bU2FSctnPnkJXwr2WoCDgoxfHhhdbew3wG-wo1BDj3MW6p_N1A_hpfYsL9jOsf90jZidgBcWrPlIsXMneT5n1UfACbQuUEh62UMS7Nl-siEu5WrGU0aZ/s640/blogger-image--263567612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXx1VzZpPXogCUKGDREO078IkSaCn_fGE8DJrppjimUKZCqxS3FOFWwxYbmE-IAx4s-TY2jj8PP4vtt1XlUpJxcnDlpbY0pL1MwL7fyXQsNNqZQqHh25P0BeeXwrbtYObUTnJCxxcx1j-e/s640/blogger-image-390387794.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglHE2fl4ViD0OjxVCyQDb99R2iuU8XzEgXFkjenwFceekwQJEvxgTSw25hpmM73CwCFmcrZ2SPm18IL5tvgKPKMNKuqcUF5f2k8gpDv02HXyZBfwOr7Zdtlw5fn50wjiwySUP6ZLME3Tln/s640/blogger-image-1516115279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglHE2fl4ViD0OjxVCyQDb99R2iuU8XzEgXFkjenwFceekwQJEvxgTSw25hpmM73CwCFmcrZ2SPm18IL5tvgKPKMNKuqcUF5f2k8gpDv02HXyZBfwOr7Zdtlw5fn50wjiwySUP6ZLME3Tln/s640/blogger-image-1516115279.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-58194661408271470752014-09-30T18:23:00.001+01:002014-09-30T18:23:26.397+01:00Why?<span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Sometimes I wonder what I ever did to be dealt such a tough hand. Lots of people think I'm strong, that the smile on my face means I am somehow keeping myself going. That smile is my mask, my protection from the world. Then days like today happen and I crumble. The smile doesn't appear, my masks slips and my vulnerabilities come pouring out.</span><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I wonder if it's my fault, if I'm somehow being punished. I look in the mirror and I hate what I see, I hate what I am putting my body through, I hate myself for not being stronger.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Why me? Why at this point in my life? I don't know where I'm going to end up, or even how far along I am on this journey.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">The unknown terrifies me. Between the endometriosis and the polycystic ovaries I know that my body isn't in perfect working order. Add the eating disorder into the mix and I just don't know what the ultimate outcome is going to be.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">This overwhelming feeling of sadness will pass I know that. Tomorrow I'll wake up, put my mask on and be ready to face the world. Tomorrow I'll be able to pretend that everything is fine, today though I feel like I'm mourning for the life I'll never know.</div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-36963988405153127812014-09-03T13:57:00.001+01:002014-09-03T13:57:32.232+01:00A final goodbye<div>I<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> am completely hopeless at saying a final goodbye there will be tears - lots of them, but ultimately it is time for me to say goodbye to ana.</span></div><div><br></div><div>I know many of you will be wondering why it's taken me so long to come to this realisation, but leaving a piece of you behind is hard. Ana has been there for the incredible highs and lows that has been my life over the last 2 years. Whilst she has been the worst part of my life, in some says she has also been the best. There is no doubt in my mind that I would be a completely different person today had ana not decided to attach herself to me again.</div><div><br></div><div>Don't get me wrong I have not, nor will I ever, consider ana to be a friend. Friends don't destroy each other, they don't whisper negative thoughts, they don't sit by and celebrate as your life slowly disintegrates around you. It may be hard for others to understand, but ana has been a part of my identity for such a long time that closing this chapter is hard. </div><div><br></div><div>I don't want to spend the rest of my life with ana, I am aware she may well show herself every now and again but I don't want her to define me anymore.</div><div><br></div><div>Is closing the book going to be hard? You bet your life it is. Even writing this I can feel her clutching at me, desperately trying to claim what she believes is rightly hers. I don't want my life to be dictated by calories and safe food. I want to explore the world I live in without restrictions. </div><div><br></div><div>With a clear head and a happy heart I bid farewell to ana, I am ready to move forwards, to embrace life.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR8OOvJX9yHGt11KqagKORetu8EENAXIuJqlcKpFtLx3GRHAuY9sA8kq59fCYYMhBItsQvdg61zXZIV5-G2leNLNpgkV2XLM6oUmxJjg6UCEKSg0B1n0Zu7cSYXcO5J9aosvXd-y2hJhrQ/s640/blogger-image--1404910362.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR8OOvJX9yHGt11KqagKORetu8EENAXIuJqlcKpFtLx3GRHAuY9sA8kq59fCYYMhBItsQvdg61zXZIV5-G2leNLNpgkV2XLM6oUmxJjg6UCEKSg0B1n0Zu7cSYXcO5J9aosvXd-y2hJhrQ/s640/blogger-image--1404910362.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-74371669081450289182014-08-19T12:52:00.001+01:002014-08-19T12:52:35.447+01:00Tom Tom<div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Those of you that follow me on twitter know that I have well and truly caught the running bug just recently. I'm well on target for my first big run - the Oxford half in October. I had been relying on a basic running app on my phone although recently I have been using the new Tom Tom runner cardio watch and I am in love!!</span></div><div><br></div><div>I honestly couldn't wait to get started once the watch had been delivered. It was really easy to set up and it syncs well with the tomtom app on my phone. I really like this feature as it gives more information about the runs I have completed in one easily accessible place. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm always a bit dubious when purchasing a watch, I have ridiculously small wrists and always struggle to find something to fit. I didn't have to worry with the tomtom though - the strap means it fits me comfortably without the watch sliding up and down my arm. </div><div><br></div><div>There are lots of features on this watch that I love - the built in heart rate monitor being one such feature. It took me a while to understand the different zones but that's more from my own lack of understanding.</div><div><br></div><div>I will be doing a more comprehensive round up of the watch at the end of the month but so far I am well and truly loving it!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvCcCv0_JmaAdVmudWv5piB4QSREIEtsJZ-KUMn2P8v0C1tMsazIQbytZyMNpr4I1zXjLgjZ0lBz5SGn55jcH9T31J-TQc4BTBdqjUbpuEQ6zSrYLn_FR5IWjZHHRM9GlS013RO-QZQt-/s640/blogger-image--653284718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvCcCv0_JmaAdVmudWv5piB4QSREIEtsJZ-KUMn2P8v0C1tMsazIQbytZyMNpr4I1zXjLgjZ0lBz5SGn55jcH9T31J-TQc4BTBdqjUbpuEQ6zSrYLn_FR5IWjZHHRM9GlS013RO-QZQt-/s640/blogger-image--653284718.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">this watch was gifted to me for review purposes, but all options are my own.</div><br></div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-29916426988823995082014-08-12T21:08:00.001+01:002014-08-12T21:08:40.830+01:00Struggling<div>I'm not doing so well anymore. On the surface all looks well, there is a smile on my face and I am functioning in public behind the scenes though is a completely different story. I am drowning, I feel helpless to stop what is happening to me and I have no therapy sessions until September.</div><div><br></div><div>I am numb, the days pass by frustratingly slowly and I complete nothing except a carefully scheduled run. My brain is running on overdrive, the thinking doesn't stop. I am overwhelmed by all the thoughts that pass through my head on a daily basis none of them providing answers just more questions. </div><div><br></div><div>Food is tough, my 'safe' list is back in practice however it is more restrictive than ever before. I snack on fruit believing it to be the best thing for me, yet my constant tiredness shows me I need more nourishment. </div><div><br></div><div>I am tired, tired of fighting, tired of making progress and then falling back into bad habits. I am tired of seeing the look in people's eyes when they realise I am not doing so week, tired of being weak, tired of failing, tired of letting myself down, tired of letting others down but most of all I am tired of letting her win.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8RjQFcwNACZnzOXPkuoW3AcXt21EuEghooAws5PUBxPTUDkpsh_hdgKnCKzlwitdvAJPB60hJxhOp5Wm449ZnVCOy5HEGGH3F4i7rZ4Bi0mQYszBcz9o2CwSIzYYS78r-lCuEXTUqy6O9/s640/blogger-image-49786517.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8RjQFcwNACZnzOXPkuoW3AcXt21EuEghooAws5PUBxPTUDkpsh_hdgKnCKzlwitdvAJPB60hJxhOp5Wm449ZnVCOy5HEGGH3F4i7rZ4Bi0mQYszBcz9o2CwSIzYYS78r-lCuEXTUqy6O9/s640/blogger-image-49786517.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-23864225325090013662014-07-24T12:26:00.001+01:002014-07-24T12:26:37.561+01:00British London 10km<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> DID IT! On July 13th I took part in the British London 10km, raising money for the Matt Hampson Foundation. I'm not going to lie I was a bag of nerves in the run up to the day - I was full of cold which had gotten onto my chest, I was 2 weeks out of hospital after suffering an anaphylaxis reaction and I woke up with a terrible headache - not the perfect mix for a run!</span></div></div><div><br></div><div>As I walked with the many other runners to the start line my anxiety was at an all time high, I was convinced I would finish last!</div><div>Luckily the people around me were lovely and hugely encouraging, even a short downpour didn't dampen the spirits. I was in the 3rd group to start, so I knew I wouldn't be last back! I don't remember much of the run, I missed the majority of the landmarks so engrossed was I in putting one foot in front of the other. </div><div><br></div><div>The thing that hit me the most was how happy I was, surrounded by runners all supporting and encouraging each other to keep going, the crowds of strangers that cheered us on offering words of advice, high fives and jelly babies! </div><div><br></div><div>I passed the 5km mark comfortably but by 7km I was struggling - I desperately wanted to see the finish line, for 5 minutes every step was torture I didn't seem to be getting anywhere very quickly. Luckily at that point 'batman' ran past me and told me to keep digging, well what he actually said was 'keep going Matt Hampson girl' but it was enough. With a grit I never knew I possessed I carried on going, my brain blocked out everything, my legs seemed to be moving on autopilot, they knew we had nearly completed, knew giving up was not option. 9km came and went in the blink of an eye, until finally I was on the home stretch. My legs then decided that it was time for a sprint finish - there was no thinking involved, one minute I was jogging the next I was thinking 'holy shit I'm getting a sprint finish!'</div><div><br></div><div>Crossing the finish line was incredible, I was (and still am) unbelievably proud of myself. I couldn't quite believe I had managed it, there were tears, laughter and lots of hugs. I have since signed up to run a half marathon in October - let's see where this journey takes me! <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9oeNv23hvvpZ-jAFmsA9bhukRXjXTumePa6x6lFkIu5WQyK5XVGvn3FI8i2qUzLBqv0UQCYgXc48etfwCV7yCzDXiXguShHW1WzKQYFAv7ljqJzNycOCzT5nkCyNQm36RV0j8ihicM9y9/s640/blogger-image--165687059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9oeNv23hvvpZ-jAFmsA9bhukRXjXTumePa6x6lFkIu5WQyK5XVGvn3FI8i2qUzLBqv0UQCYgXc48etfwCV7yCzDXiXguShHW1WzKQYFAv7ljqJzNycOCzT5nkCyNQm36RV0j8ihicM9y9/s640/blogger-image--165687059.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZizMnP-PCe6mqqQbCtBCm_8Zan8t8f2V26vNx61QEVeHBh93zqf1m6BmQG0gKW8qHJHauVprB0ISTwTRc9ZW7ltXQlm_g3dBvnWVU63AU72uET5SXIul88eUPTpFIZgBbuoasW83NHbwk/s640/blogger-image--983317385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZizMnP-PCe6mqqQbCtBCm_8Zan8t8f2V26vNx61QEVeHBh93zqf1m6BmQG0gKW8qHJHauVprB0ISTwTRc9ZW7ltXQlm_g3dBvnWVU63AU72uET5SXIul88eUPTpFIZgBbuoasW83NHbwk/s640/blogger-image--983317385.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5pUF80bxk439Rp3VmGhMCxlu7MnPqyCo7wPgrJlJSHjZ-eagFHL77Ni-C832vpxC_8lVHTFQKOw_YPbQ_66AupTBDVIFJ7Sz9mtxyJr0LNZQBgECZQSj3wokC2fOE7A0MFhtSOWZrpl9/s640/blogger-image--473198244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5pUF80bxk439Rp3VmGhMCxlu7MnPqyCo7wPgrJlJSHjZ-eagFHL77Ni-C832vpxC_8lVHTFQKOw_YPbQ_66AupTBDVIFJ7Sz9mtxyJr0LNZQBgECZQSj3wokC2fOE7A0MFhtSOWZrpl9/s640/blogger-image--473198244.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimHHDpmMs_UHnXM7-rJ7reU8wIrfOnNeie0K3JrRv3mEjvUCfs65b3-XHqJ4u3DKTr4MSoyVasDgQwekh3xB7JlHz6Dt6F2YX-Q1wYQuZvIazlnQEIou0eosTqgbdhgZjN96FUCRNoqr0z/s640/blogger-image--68789658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimHHDpmMs_UHnXM7-rJ7reU8wIrfOnNeie0K3JrRv3mEjvUCfs65b3-XHqJ4u3DKTr4MSoyVasDgQwekh3xB7JlHz6Dt6F2YX-Q1wYQuZvIazlnQEIou0eosTqgbdhgZjN96FUCRNoqr0z/s640/blogger-image--68789658.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_e__WR4d8gxqRxcAzELeaBVCm7XQbi68JT14TYUN-dl0d1oT0d33BYVh-pxSagaY3QJC0hoC0JEDBt5wFKDsda77iKRuGE-m4JMKLIgo8r9XI_V2CH9irlIhA_KPmKkO1TUjEsv8uWY1/s640/blogger-image-779400976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_e__WR4d8gxqRxcAzELeaBVCm7XQbi68JT14TYUN-dl0d1oT0d33BYVh-pxSagaY3QJC0hoC0JEDBt5wFKDsda77iKRuGE-m4JMKLIgo8r9XI_V2CH9irlIhA_KPmKkO1TUjEsv8uWY1/s640/blogger-image-779400976.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-85998913449341661552014-06-23T19:18:00.000+01:002014-06-23T19:18:08.055+01:00Brain SplurgeApologies for the random nature of this blog post my brain is currently working in overdrive so expect nothing to make sense!<br />
<br />
I am tired, tired of people asking me why I want to recover, tired of explaining the nature of my eating disorder, tired of people, tired of fighting, tired of acting as though everything is ok, tired of life. On the outside I appear to be doing well, I have become so adept at putting on my mask that I have forgotten how to take it off. I have convinced myself that I am ok, that I no longer need to rely on daily tablets and fortnightly therapy sessions to keep me going (FYI I am still taking the tablets and attending therapy). That the way I live my life is ok, sure it's not great but who's life really is? But my life is not ok, I'm not even sure if it can be classified as a life.<br />
<br />
I am 27 years old, I should be out chasing adventure, making memories, following my dreams and exploring where life is going to take me. Instead I live in books, day dreams, a life ruled by rules and regulations that I don't understand. I am overwhelmingly sad, I feel I could burst into uncontrollable tears at any time for no reason at all. From the second I lock my front door I run purely on adrenaline, rushing from one place to another, teaching classes with a smile on my face, offering advice, giggling, surviving on coffee, but adrenaline cannot last forever.<br />
<br />
I miss me - the girl who was always up for an adventure, who could spend hours wandering around cities getting happily lost, who could sit on a beach day dreaming as the sea licked at my feet. I think she is still there, but she is buried beneath the rocks of self doubt and self loathing. I am finding it all too easy to fall into the negative trap that ED loves so much.<br />
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I hate that so much of my being has been taken over by ED, I wish that I had ignored her casual knocking on the door, the soft voice that told me losing a few pounds would make me feel better. I wish I had never invited her into my life. I thought she was going to be a friend, but she is slowly destroying me from the outside in. I am being urged to discover what I have done to my body but I am not yet in place to find out what damage I have done, however I feel her effects almost every day.<br />
<br />
I don't know where to go anymore, I am craving solitude - away from my battles - where I can just be me. I don't want ED and the negativity that surrounds here to be holding me down any more. I want to follow the path through the trees and embrace the sunlight at the end.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakKQVgYdTCrGlQHCssmPp8TmCzM7xFcYekE1Sfn82Cu0n3PcCoZkQJCfE4PUSnzfDblRGwQ-kARHmd1vT_b5quelg5lHiuEkhMbhCIMF080Q32UH-LA63T_xBV8mzvjLvLwFil35LpJEu/s1600/trees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakKQVgYdTCrGlQHCssmPp8TmCzM7xFcYekE1Sfn82Cu0n3PcCoZkQJCfE4PUSnzfDblRGwQ-kARHmd1vT_b5quelg5lHiuEkhMbhCIMF080Q32UH-LA63T_xBV8mzvjLvLwFil35LpJEu/s1600/trees.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-21949619578598293202014-06-23T18:56:00.000+01:002014-06-23T18:56:14.058+01:00MayOops this post is a little bit late, but better late than never I guess!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdjmIg01gtTCZYS1fGQaluC5s6qWjX5HNdOOSu2eXg3H0W9A-KP61oZ5ZntPk0jAl5TDNg_g4l0n4hUOYZPygFasgIsuH1SQaALZZv4NziiOq_6tswHhfuhAYBvhxmI50iy2k5eIG1CFz/s1600/Corn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdjmIg01gtTCZYS1fGQaluC5s6qWjX5HNdOOSu2eXg3H0W9A-KP61oZ5ZntPk0jAl5TDNg_g4l0n4hUOYZPygFasgIsuH1SQaALZZv4NziiOq_6tswHhfuhAYBvhxmI50iy2k5eIG1CFz/s1600/Corn.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
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<br />
In May I:<br />
Watched the children I teach perform and was ridiculously proud of them.<br />
Ate a magnum - my first ice cream in 2 years!<br />
Was treated to flowers and candles by the girls I teach.<br />
Drank way too much costa coffee.<br />
<br />
In June I:<br />
Start my new job as an examiner.<br />
Have the hen party of my best friend to celebrate.<br />
Will be embracing Wimbledon.<br />
Hope to have time to sit in the sunshine listening to TED talks.Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-762624101260817292014-05-27T13:19:00.000+01:002014-05-27T13:19:07.454+01:00A realisationFor those of you who don't know I have recently started running again. I'm not sure what prompted me to start but i've been enjoying getting out of the house and out my head for a short period of time and having space to just be me. On the past few runs though I have noticed a disturbing trend appearing - I would run for as long as I could, and then run some more. The times and distance covered became more and more important to me and although I wasn't tracking calories I was always aware of approximately how much I was burning off. <br />
<br />
Today something changed.<br />
<br />
After celebrating the success of eating an ice cream last night (the first in 2 years) I am determined to keep fighting and I am absolutely not going to give up. For starters I have a gorgeous nephew and niece who are relying on me to take them to the beach, teach them tricks and enjoy copious amount of treats with. It's not just me who this illness is stifling but those around me too.<br />
<br />
So what changed?<br />
<br />
This morning I set off for a run as usual, I was about 6 minutes in and on track to hit my targets when I decided to just have fun. Why run for times when I could have fun? I ran with sheep, walked with ducks and skipped through puddles and I LOVED every minute of it. Yes my times were slow, but I finished with a smile on my face. I didn't care how much distance I had covered or how long it had taken me. I had enjoyed being outdoors. Sure my eating disorder was screaming at me the whole time but I zoned her out - thanks to a banging playlist!<br />
<br />
Who honestly cares if it takes me 7 minutes or 12 minutes to run a mile, a mile is still a mile right?<br />
<br />
I am still going to keep running, I enjoy it and I enjoy the freedom I get from myself. From now on though I will not be sharing times and distances (my app will continue to record everything but I am not going to publish them anywhere else). I am going to stop competing with myself and others to get the fastest times and I am not going to be concerned with anyone else's times or distance covered.<br />
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I am not going to let this eating disorder destroy any more of my life. It is time to fight back and fight back hard.<br />
<br />
Pictures of some of my recent runs:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYTHM7qJnW8CCgX4LdqUd2wutcRk3ZeLP8wWQ7T44_Qjzuh_kPq4qwfphxWLaVMDrVp0uOXc3XoRCNQELgJJ-3L0gLORURsNUkYotH3XVkxY8ScB9N08-fMLB28FDX98PlO846bY60NDQ-/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYTHM7qJnW8CCgX4LdqUd2wutcRk3ZeLP8wWQ7T44_Qjzuh_kPq4qwfphxWLaVMDrVp0uOXc3XoRCNQELgJJ-3L0gLORURsNUkYotH3XVkxY8ScB9N08-fMLB28FDX98PlO846bY60NDQ-/s1600/8.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHNA-xJT2wrpwCQ2n4sL81jYot87l_ktBjLnStGTtye8i9eXxbw9JryjzYI1zkdKHHd1DzmMxrNyNzdT7vZj9dhmB4uOIdtyKMs6kdSgtsrwaY5-lgDUos18OSzEDE2-unRQaWmZb9o27/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHNA-xJT2wrpwCQ2n4sL81jYot87l_ktBjLnStGTtye8i9eXxbw9JryjzYI1zkdKHHd1DzmMxrNyNzdT7vZj9dhmB4uOIdtyKMs6kdSgtsrwaY5-lgDUos18OSzEDE2-unRQaWmZb9o27/s1600/3.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a><br />
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I really am lucky to have some beautiful countryside on the doorstep.<br />
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FYI - I am currently raising money for the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matt_Hampson" target="_blank">Matt Hampson</a> Foundation. I will be running a 10k in London on July 13th and I would really appreciate it if you could sponsor me - text GEMP78 £5 to 70070 or donate <a href="http://www.justgiving.com/Gemma-Phazey" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8440527825693310169.post-33070107563342116192014-05-22T11:15:00.001+01:002014-05-22T11:15:36.395+01:00Dear grandad<div>Dear grandad,</div><div><br></div><div>I cannot believe it's been 7 years since you left us all behind. I remember vividly where I was when I found out, stood outside southgate tube station with my heart breaking into a million little pieces. I cried the whole way home and sat in my room and sobbed until I didn't think I could cry anymore. Even though I knew the day was coming it was still a massive shock, I don't think anything ever prepares you for grief. I wanted to give up, come home and grieve with my family, to be at the farm, to feel near to you, yet I knew I couldn't. I had to perform that evening, I had to complete my degree and make you proud. I swallowed my grief and somehow managed to hold it together long enough to get through the evening.</div><div><br></div><div>As is inevitable life has carried on, I've grown up, got married and carved out a career for myself. I thought I would think about you every day, yet I don't, I was heartbroken to realise that I can't recall what you look like from memory. Yet you are always there, in fleeting moments when I think about you and smile, I could be gardening, or eating raspberries when an unexpected memory pops into my head. Your cap comes to the most important places with me, you were there when I graduated, when I got married and most importantly you were there when mom graduated.</div><div><br></div><div>Anniversaries are always going to be difficult but I take comfort in knowing that you didn't suffer. Life will always keep moving forward, but I always carry you with me in my heart.</div><div><br></div><div>Love you</div><div>xxxx</div>Gemma Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10343331384777785334noreply@blogger.com0