My second blogger birthday seemingly passed me by this year (21st October). I suppose it's fair that I won't be celebrating, I feel that I've neglected the blog and people deserve to know why. I never expected to look forward to baring my soul on the internet, it's entirely the opposite of the safe internet practices we were told about when we were younger. I've only ever done it because I believed and still believe, that my words and experiences can help people. In the past two years I have been told that friends of friends have benefited from me sharing my mental health journey.
The truth is that I've been majorly struggling in recent months. In July I had a breast reduction, something which I have been longing for since I was 16 years old. Since the days of being bullied, I have struggled with low confidence and self esteem, particularly when it comes to my body. I piled on a lot of weight in a short space of time and...poof or rather KAPOW big bazoomas on my chest, all of the cake had fallen through my mouth and directly onto the cake shelf that is my clevage. I was ecstatic that 2016 was going to finally be the year that I'd make the change, that I'd finally have breasts that would be in proportion with the rest of my body. Although the operation was going to massively impact and improve my body confidence, I knew that it wasn't going to resolve all of my problems. I was even prepared for the post-op period of not being able to do much, of being in pain, being unable to have a comfortable night's sleep and being unable to exercise after consistently working out regularly for a few months prior to surgery. I had the slump, a major low period and over a month of insomnia.
We then went off on a holiday of a lifetime in September. Of course I was anxious about navigating through the airport and getting through the long haul flight. Even if I'm being jetted off to paradise I'll still want to launch myself at the emergency exits because I hate being confined and unable to escape. I had a fantastic time when I got there, for the most part anyway. The bright sunlight, the warmth on my skin, being consumed by two books (non-fiction still), swimming amongst fish of all colours and sizes and doing all whilst comfortably wearing a bikini brought me a great deal of joy.
Unfortunately when you check your bags in and hop aboard a plane you can't leave depression behind. There were some days when I resented how bright the sun was, I felt exposed and uncomfortable. I had bad stomach reactions to the drinking water, was often left feeling downbeat due to poor vegetarian options and generally felt anxious at all mealtimes and social occasions. I felt that I ought to be having a great time, that this was the break I needed and that my gratitude should be beaming from my every pore. Yet, I found myself punishing myself almost every evening. Old habits, an old illness broke thorugh the surface. I was purging all of the bad feelings and resentments I had. It wasn't the first time that I've had bullimia and unfortunately it wasn't the last. I've had a terrible relationship with my body, diets and eating disorders since I was 16. I'm hoping that this will be the year when I learn to love the body I have, or at least be a little kiner towards it.
There was a really bad night that I can't even go into right now. Even before all of this I had been considering that I needed to be put on an increased dose of anti-depressants. I'd had multiple breakdowns before and after the holiday and had generally been feeling empty for a long time. It might sound like the basis of depression anyway, but I knew it was getting worse. It was agreed that increasing the meds was the best way to go. However, due to mess ups with my prescription multiple times it was a couple of months before I was consistently on my new doseage. I knew it wasn't the only change I needed. I decided to enforce a schedule for my week: 3 days of working on my book and filming videos and the remainder of the week would be devoted to household chores and attempting to take care of myself. I'm still not sure whether things will work out, whether I'll start to feel happy or even content ever again. Even when I've achieved something like filming and editing two videos or tackling a load of laundry, I fail to feel good about it. People might praise me when I can't do it myself and I come up with an argument for why I don't deserve their praise. I know I can't just win at life without buying a ticket. I have to enter the prize draw, I have to back my own horse and accept the result I get and aim to improve on it or maintain my winning odds.
I'm hopeful that I will return to blogging more often. It might take me a while as I attempt to balance all of the other plates in my life. My plates might not be loaded with immense culinary dishes and I might have signifcantly lighter dishes than others, but to me it's a hardship and I need time to work on my balancing act and feel OK with the way my life is panning out.
I hope you're all well, happy or simply working on keeping your own plates spinning in the air right now.
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