I climb the mountain. I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere. Then an unforeseen bear appears, mauls me, and eats the very symbol of my progress. It looks like I never climbed at all. There’s no parka to prove it. Only I know I was there.
Category: eating disorder
Waking Up in the Sixth Year Without WeeGee
Today marks six years since my best friend WeeGee died. It’s the first year I’ve lived this anniversary without running away from it. So my son and I went out to do all the things she loved - coffee, candles, little gifts - carrying her with me in every small joy.
Thoughts While Sedated
Being sedated has made mindfulness accidentally achievable. My brain is finally quiet enough to exist without spiralling. It won’t last, and I know that, but for now I’m living inside the stillness — decorating my base, rescuing teddy bears, and letting slowness be enough.
Objects in This Mirror May Appear More Healed Than They Are
I look well. I even look strong. But what’s visible isn’t the whole story. Recovery doesn’t move in straight lines, and strength doesn’t guarantee capacity. Some battles leave no marks at all. Sometimes staying upright is the work, and sometimes that means being still to gather strength.
When Recoveries Collide
Covid recovery and ED recovery have collided, exerting their own gravity and bending everything out of shape. Hunger isn’t honesty right now—just noise from a body out of calibration. I’m caught between forces, trying to tell whether I’m being pulled toward a brighter star or into something that feels like collapse.
The Birthday Cake That Wasn’t A Lie – Turning 42
Turning 42 wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. Between cramps, cancelled plans, free Starbucks, Jellycat penguins, and Biscoff cake, I found glimmers I didn’t think I’d feel again. Even though the gold didn’t last all night, it existed - and that alone felt like a tiny miracle in the dark.
Little Lights in the Dark – Pistachios, Pigeons, and a Cursed Toothpaste
I’m not okay right now — I’m tired, hormonal, broke, and held together by scaffolding, pistachios, and spite. But even in the mess, little lights keep showing up: cursed toothpaste, shiny bargain-bin hair, and Squigeon still visiting me through the net. It’s not much, but it’s something.
Contra La Luna – You Are Number 28 in the Queue
After a night of The Bad Thoughts™️, I planned a calm day of blogging, coffee, and Greggs. Instead, I faced the NHS boss level. Between hold music, bureaucracy, and a mixed episode, I somehow survived - Festive Bake in hand, chaos intact, still hoping for Schrödinger’s tomorrow.
Grief & Greggs – The Emotional Support Festive Bake.
For years, Christmas food ambushed me with grief. This time, buying a Festive Bake felt different. I still miss her fiercely, but the memories came with warmth, not only pain. I tasted pastry and remembered laughter, comfort, and love. Somehow, joy returned - quietly, wrapped in white Greggs paper.
Benign Lymph Nodes But Brain Still Unhinged.
I went for an ultrasound convinced my swollen lymph nodes were planning my demise, only to be told they’re just dramatic and like to stay enlarged for fun. I still haven’t felt the relief, but I did get kindness brownies, deep chats with my son, and a strangely good day out of it.
Absurd Universe 