Grief, ED recovery, Mental Health and all the lovely things that give my Sisyphean rock meaning
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.
During one of the hardest weeks of my life, my son handed me a purple Liberty bag with a Jellycat bear inside. This is the story of Enfys — a rainbow in bear form — and how she reminded me I’m loved, even when I can’t feel it.
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
I made jars of sweets filled with memories — my nan’s Quality Street, WeeGee’s Jellytots, and buttery biscuits that felt like home. These aren’t just snacks. They’re comfort, legacy, and a little bit of healing in every wrapper. Sometimes recovery is sugar-coated — and maybe that’s exactly what I needed
Recovery didn’t start with a grand moment. It started with panic, meltdowns, grocery aisles, excitement and a macchiato. Day One wasn’t perfect — but it was mine. I fought for my life in small rebellions: biscuits, salad bowls, olives, and coffee. It was messy, brave, terrifying — and beautifully, finally, real.
This isn't a choice, it's a vow. I'm not doing this because it's easy or aesthetic - I'm doing it because I refuse to stay lost. Anorexia recovery is hell. It always was. But I'm done putting my toe in the water. I'm swearing to fight for myself. No illusions. Lets jump in head first.
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.
I didn’t expect to feel her again. But there she was — in a glimmer on the pavement, in two ducks blocking the path, in my chest where grief lives. For the first time in years, I felt her presence instead of her absence. Like maybe… we’re still walking together.
I’m trying to recover from my anorexia relapse. For this week’s challenge, I’m increasing my intake with tea and biscuits—using the only safe food memories I have from childhood to help me. Alongside the nostalgia and my favourite custard creams, Biscoff the bear is here with his usual fluffy emotional support.
Absurd Universe 