Grief, ED recovery, Mental Health and all the lovely things that give my Sisyphean rock meaning
Crying while macrameing a tiny bag for my Jellycat bear felt like the most “me in recovery” moment imaginable—grief, chaos, thread everywhere, but still trying to make something soft. I didn’t want to keep going, but my hands kept tying knots. Somehow, that felt like hope anyway.
Recovery today was a pick ‘n’ mix: bipolar highs, Lidl bakery lows, and a Jellycat bear walk in between. I challenged Greggs and pain au raisin, surfed a mixed episode, and somehow still ate dinner. It’s not linear, but I’m still here — with biscuits and bear in hand.
Recovery isn’t just about food—it’s about everything that not eating kept buried. On Day 10, grief, bipolar symptoms, trauma, and even sinusitis hit all at once. I tried to fix it all, fast. But recovery isn’t Pipe Dream. I can’t stop the leaks—I have to survive the flood.
Recovery with bipolar isn’t just hard—it’s a war between two dark sides. Anorexia gives stability. Eating gives chaos. I fight Darth Bipolar every time I eat. There’s no lightsaber, no peace, just me—dragging myself through it, hoping it’s worth it. Maybe the only way out… is through
ED Recovery is a superposition - I’m in and out of it at the same time. Sometimes I’m brave, sometimes the chaos goblin makes me eat half a block of cheese and I feel shame. Sometimes I want to crawl back into the paperclip arms of Clippy. Tonight though? I made peanut butter toast without spiralling.
Recovery isn’t linear. Sometimes you cry over beans while getting emotionally slapped like Chris Rock at the Oscars—by grief, rage, and trauma. This is a story about relapse, cheese, corrupted Clippy, and why I’m still doing recovery anyway. I didn't feel like I won. But I ate the beans.
I woke up in a panic, handled NHS frustrations better than usual, found comfort in Starbucks and plushies, and ended the day very on-brand with an existential crisis over my medication increase. Don’t know why I’m hoping—so fucking naive. Falling for the promise of the emptiness machine.
Absurd Universe 