Anxiety who?

It is never too late to be what you might have been

T.S Elliot

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. 

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.  

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. 

I am excited to see what life is like without the comforting blanket of Citalopram.

I'm back!!

I am back! After an extended leave from this blog I am now back and raring to get going again. This year has been all sorts of crazy - my marriage broke down, I finally feel like I am in a good place with my recovery, I met someone new and I am looking for a new place to call my home.

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.

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.

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.

Life

When 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?

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?!

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?

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.

Editing life

Therapy sessions are never fun, they force us to delve into our subconscious and reveal all those idiosyncrasies we try so hard to keep hidden away. There are no secrets, no edited pasts, our true selves are on display for a stranger to analyse and make sense of.

I must admit I found therapy hard at first, talking so intimately with a stranger was completely out of my comfort zone, as the weeks have progressed I've found then comforting, they are a place for me to talk about how I really feel without fear of upsetting anyone. Therapy has made me realise how much of myself I edit in order to please other people. A glance at my Facebook page reveals little of my current struggles, little of the anxiety and the battles I fight every day - there life is peachy, a perfect snapshot. On twitter I am more open, I find it easier to share my feelings, perhaps because it's to people who understand my battles, who can offer support and advice to keep me going. Even here on my blog, a place where I can truly be myself I still find myself editing life, I don't write about arguments with my husbands, disagreements with friends etc... I wonder why I find it so hard to be truly honest with myself? Has ana played her nastiest trick yet? Am I simply unable to see all the good because I am drowning in the murky waters below, I hope not, desperately. 

My life isn't perfect of course it isn't, but it is pretty damn good. Having an eating disorder is (unfortunately) part of me, a part that will never go away, so I have to learn to embrace it, to overcome, to shout proudly from the rooftops that I am a fighter. Therapy has taught me to listen to myself, to not beat myself up for imagined failures but to celebrate the positives. From here on in I have made a promise to myself to stop editing, to record my life as it is warts and all, after all what is the point of creating a reminder of life if it isn't my life?

Life

Amen to this :)