Add to the dish a spoonful of self-loathing, a cup of sadness, a dash of doubt and sprinkle a topping of self-disappointment and you’re sure to be left with a recipe for dark day disaster.
I can’t say that sitting in the Primark changing rooms, balling my big brown eyes out, was my finest moment. It was however, a recent moment and one that shook me from the place of comfort that I’ve recently become accustomed too, down a rabbit hole of self pity which I’ve tried my utmost to avoid.
Continue reading “Anxiety, depression and my body.”
I can assure you, it is not easy to love yourself when you look in the mirror and see only ways you would like to change or improve how you look.
“You are a big girl, you could lose some fat…”
Ever the encouraging words that someone who struggles with weight and body image would LOVE to hear when they are mid conversation. I deflect, I pretend not to be frustrated and annoyed at the absurd notion that a human being feels they have the right to tell another human being how they should and shouldn’t look. That one person would have the audacity to tell another person what they should be doing with their body, let alone a blood relative and supposed family cheerleader. Pot. Kettle. Enough said.
Continue reading “Being a bigger woman and owning it.”
I have many hopes and dreams for myself, my family and my blog but I am learning that I need only worry about one thing at a time.
I have spent quite some time reflecting over the last few weeks on the year that was and how the events in 2017 shaped me into who I am today and yet it has taken me a long time to put into words the hopes and dreams I have for 2018 and actually move on from what I went through last year. I think it was an easy way out for me to take the ‘hard done by’ route, the line of thinking that saw me self-victimised and feeling as though the world was against me – only now do I understand that I had to go through last year to get here, where I am today and I am extremely grateful.
To tell you where I am going, I must first explain (as briefly as possible) where I have been.
Continue reading “2017’s hurdles and how I learned to jump”
At any given time, I’m walking around with scales, like a snake in shed.
One of my least favorite topics of conversation is back in the Hollywood headlines this week after a fellow sufferer has defiantly stood against the frustration that is Psoriasis. Kim Kardashian has made it public fodder that she is a Psoriasis sufferer and has backed this up with photographic evidence of the unsightly red patches that dot her legs and torso. Now I may not be the biggest Kim K fan and I’m certain they’re not rushing to develop a Psoriasis Kimoji, but I have to commend her for making public a condition that 3% of the global population suffer with quietly at any given time. Kim has said that she has learned to live with Psoriasis and no longer bothers with unsuccessful attempts to hide the blotchy redness on her body, a fight that I know all too well. Sadly, unlike Kim, I haven’t learned to ‘live with’ this disorder. I’m not certain that you ever truly do.
Continue reading “Psoriasis, a pain in my @ss.”
I would choose a lifetime of pain and suffering in the company of my children and family, over death or stroke any day.
I thought I had reached the epitome of metal sometime before 7am this morning, I’d gone from dying my hair to dying my blood! Alas, the blood dying was merely for the purposes of an abdominal CT scan and by 4pm in the afternoon I was shedding bucketloads of tears, being forced to make a rushed choice between pain and … well, pain.
Continue reading “Dear Diary – Human pincushion again (11/10/17)”
No, this is not a blog on piercing and body modification (I can assure you, that’s the blog I’d rather be writing). Instead, it’s the tale of how I’ve become a pincushion in 2017.
Continue reading “Human pincushion”