things in the last few days.

Wednesday 14th November 2012

So I’ve been having a bit of a blog break. My world has been a moody, hectic and stressful. I withdraw from the blog world when things are rubbish. Things are a bit rubbish right now.

The biggest rubbish thing is that Juno is very, very unwell. She started vomiting everything she ate and got really weak and feeble. The Fam took her to the vets last night and she needed an emergency operation, which she had in the middle of the night last night. Turns out, she’d swallowed a peach stone and it’d got stuck in her intestine. It’d completely blocked her gut and her gut had started to grow around it, so it was becoming a part of her. If we’d left it any longer, her gut would have probably ruptured overnight and she would have died, but she’s healthy and young and got there in time so she looks like she’s going to be ok. They had to remove six inches of her gut, and they also spayed her so she’s pretty unwell right now. She’s still at the vets to be monitored, plus she’s super doped up on painkillers, but me and the Brother got to visit her today and she seemed pleased to see us. Her bat ears stuck up and she rested her head on us and ate a little food and drank a little water. Hopefully she’ll be home on Friday (if everything goes as smoothly as it seems right now), but we won’t know for sure if she’s fully healed till a weeks time. Luckily, they don’t think there’ll be any lasting complications. Fingers crossed.

Juno at the vets, snuggling the Brother

So yer, right now I have no dog and I’m worried and sad and have no one to look after me in that way that dogs look after you. They really do save you sometimes. I miss her and she’s only been gone a day. I hate not having a dog around. So much.

On top of this, our kitchen has just started being redecorated. This is stressful in an eating disorder way (obvs.), but also because my house is full of people and its loud and hard to feel comfortable. They turn up, bump into HTT, smash things and generally lead to me hiding away. I hate people in my house, especially when I’m meant to be home alone. I like my alone time. It’s important to me. I like empty space sometimes.

The £2,000 peach stone

There are good points to it though. In one of my more hyper moments, I decided to create an incredibly selfish Facebook event in which I invite myself to people’s houses for dinner so that they can cook me nice foods to make the transition a little easier. I’ve been struggling with food a bit recently and I’ve lost a couple of kilos, so I think it’s important to try keep my eating up regardless. I figured what better to kick an eating disorder sneaking back in than letting other people cook me normal people meals. I used to find other people cooking for me horrific, then uncomfortable, but now fine. I figure this way, I’m less in control and will probably at least maintain a vaguely healthy weight for a while. Maybe I’ll even gain some weight. That’d probably be a good thing if it does happen. It’s only two weeks. Plus I’ll get to spend a little more time with my friends, which is always fun. Yesterday I saw a couple of people and their aces gecko Ricardo and we ordered Thai and drunk wine and gin and I had a nice time. It was good to see people. Especially people I don’t see enough and actually really like.

But yer, the kitchen makes life more difficult. It’s annoying and makes eating hard. Especially with Valium withdrawal. Valium withdrawal symptoms come and go in varying intensities, but it basically sucks out. I occasionally break and end up taking more than I should, but it is so hard you have no idea. It’s like the worst flu ever – tremors run through your entire body, you’re exhausted but can’t sleep, you get extreme fluctuations in body temperature and mood, my brain is louder, my appetite is just gone, there’s dizziness and generally feeling like you could collapse at any point, your head gets foggy and everything gets less real, you shake and have that not sleep you get with a fever, nightmares, increased urges self-injurious thoughts, anger, irritability, feeling like you literally might be about to die because you can’t breathe, feel nauseous and so dizzy you literally cannot stand. It’s shit. Another reason blogging has been a little rubbish recently.

Another stress had been the major amount of life admin I’ve had to go through recently. Sorting out my freedom pass, upgrading my phone with O2 and Carphone Warehouse, sorting out the Ma’s new phone contract, switching banks, sorting out a new student bank account, trying to work out uni, sorting out deferring my Professional Careers Development Loan due to being in benefits, having no money. It basically means I’ve spent what feels like years on hold. On hold to O2, Carphone Warehouse, NatWest, Co-Operative Bank, Tesco Mobile, Job Centre Plus, university etc. Urgh. I actually feel like I’ve done so much, but it’s probably haven’t done all that much really. I still haven’t decided if I want to insure my iPhone and iPad, so that might be a little bit more admin, but it’s like the least important bit left.

Treatment is also really bringing me down. I’m hating on the HTT, arguing with CDAT, telling the Psychologist I hate him more than anyone else and how he can’t help me, telling everyone off, shouting at the IMPART group that I’m never coming back because they suck. I don’t even know if I need help, but everyone thinks I do and I don’t know what to do about it. Double urgh.

Thursday 15th November 2012

So I did my finish my post yesterday – I got too Valium ill. Sorry.

Things are a bit brighter today because I got to pick up Juno from the vet because the recovery has been going so well. She’s going to need special food and special medications and special walks for a week, but she’s doing well. She’s very confused from all the painkillers and I think they make life a little difficult, but she’s beautiful and home and the vets all really like her and she doesn’t even have to wear a cone on her head because she’s been so good and isn’t even touching her stitches because she’s so well-behaved. I love my puppy so much. I’ve been appointed supreme pup watcher for the next week so I’m going to be well on watching her to keep her safe. She makes me so happy. I’m still scared, but it looks like she’s going to be ok. I now have a purpose again – keep Juno safe and healthy and happy.

I also actually went to my IMPART group today. It wasn’t as bad as the past few weeks, but I think I’ve realised that I’m actually quite behind where a lot of others in the group are right now. I’m pretty sure I’m the youngest and I’m pretty sure that I’m not as good at managing my emotions and impulses as most of them. What they are showing us seems impossible right now. Today, it was anger and anxiety management, but it was all like “in between the trigger and the behaviour, you have all this time to intervene and stop your thought processes etc.”, but all I could think was “what time between trigger and behaviour? There is no time between trigger and behaviour.” It made me feel pretty useless. I don’t think I can stop my impulsive behaviours. I honestly don’t know how. In showing me how, I got to listen to what other people do and it was all like “exercise” which I can’t do without going overboard, or “learn to be assertive” or “step outside the situation.” I am really not good at being assertive and have pretty poor interpersonal skills. I do ok with the people who know me really well, but not so much with new people, and even when the people I’m in love with make me feel too much, I often react in the wrong ways. They deal with it though. I think there’s a general feeling within my friendship circle that I’m not actually the problems, which makes my friends super aces. I’m just realising I really don’t have any coping mechanisms for managing my emotions. Except self-harm, spending money, not eating and getting fucked. Way to go Ellie – fucking useless at self-regulation. Triple urgh.

I am actually complying with treatment though. Kinda. I struggle with the Valium thing a bit, and I drink too much and smoke too much, self-injure too much. I know this, but I’m not trying to fix it because I don’t have any other ways too. Still, I actually went to all my appointments. On most days, I do actually get dressed and out of bed, even if I haven’t slept much. I am really trying to be budget and to eat lots and to stay as safe as possible. I don’t call the HTT as much as I should, but I don’t like them as a whole unit. They can’t keep me safe from myself and I won’t let them really. Maybe I’m half complying.

The thing is, although I’m taking some action to get better, I’m not sure if I believe I’m ill or deserve help or need to get better or have the motivation to. Intense emotions suck out, but sometimes they are great because intense love and intense happiness and intense excitement are really fabz. However fleeting and uncontrollable these emotions may be, I honestly believe I feel them stronger than other people. I know black and white thinking can be bad – everything is all or nothing. However, I have a strong sense of right and wrong and I like that. When applied to myself, it sucks, when applied to outside circumstances, I have a strong opinion and without the grey, I gain passion. Sure, my identity and opinions can change rapidly depending on my surroundings, but I think it means I am more able to empathise with other people sometimes as I really do absorb their views so whole heartedly. My impulsivity around things like drugs and alcohol and shopping etc. make me more fun to be around sometimes. Sure, the dissociation, negative self-beliefs, parasuicidal behaviours, impulsivity when alone etc. suck, but there are positive things about the way I am now. And that’s the thing – this is who I am. I don’t know if I want to be anyone else. I’m taking action, yet I see the positives and don’t know if I’m ready for change.

Still, being unable to work and being unable to do the things I want to do and struggling every fucking day might make this all worth it. I just don’t like knowing what’ll be left of me when this is all done. Will I even be me? I hate not knowing.

But finally, some other great news – my uni have decided to waive my fees and make me a part-time student so I can access all the support I need. This makes me supez happy. It’s also scary as it means I’ll actually have to finish my degree this year, but I have a whole year to do a dissertation so hopefully it’ll be ok. I’m scared, but at least I’m able to access any support I need. Fingers crossed. Once my freedom pass shows up, I’ll be back at uni to try sort it all out.

So goods and bads and lots in between. This is some sort of update I guess. I hope you’re all well.

Juno having a nap – home again :)

“you are not permitted to leave.”

Tuesday 30th October

So I did actually go to the CDAT drop-in service today. My half best/half worst (I can’t decide) HTT was at the assessment with me, which would have been really supportive if it was one of the HTT people I actually find supportive. This one I know quite well. He tries so hard to be friendly and nice, which I obviously appreciate, but he often pushes familiarity too far then I get uncomfortable and want him to leave. He’s a mixed bag.

Anyway CDAT. It was really surreal. I don’t generally say things like this, but my gosh I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite so gay. The guy assessing me had the campest, scouse accent I’ve ever heard. I actually really liked him because he was such a sweetie. He told me his heart just wanted to look after me like a little sister, which might seem weird, but given his general personality, it was really nice. He is possibly the least formal person I’ve ever dealt with in the NHS ever. It was strange though because I (obvs.) had to do a urine test (again urgh) and whilst doing so, he sang Stevie Wonder and Diana Ross to me. He called me “babe” and “baby” a lot. He also told my hair was fantastic and that I remind him of his Mum in the 80s. Apparently, she was a hot Mum so he was always proud when she picked him up from school. She was also apparently “a fashionista” and dressed just like Madonna in the 80s and apparently I look just like Madonna in the 80s too. When I get anxious, I sometimes pick my nail varnish off, which he noticed, so I said that nail varnish is a great distraction technique because it means you literally cannot do anything bad for a while, to which he replied “Baby – do you really think I’ve not worn nail varnish before?” I think I might be slightly in love with him. He was so fantastic, though it’s weird to have someone sing to you whilst you pee. Seriously, it makes peeing really hard. He had the most perfect hair as well. He was really warm and friendly and made me feel comfortable and lovely.

It was kinda interesting. They tested me for bare drugs and I only passed/failed or whatever benzodiazepines and cannabis. Apparently, amphetamines are cleared from your body in three days which I didn’t actually know. And they don’t do standard urine tests for MDMA in case anyone was wondering. It was like drugs pregnancy tests. One line is positive, 2 is negative. I had no alcohol in my system either, but that was less of a surprise. The actual assessment was over an hour, so a bit intense. Lots of talk about my past (in both mental health and general terms), self-harm, abuse, family history (both personal and mental health) etc. Long tingz.

In the end though, he thinks they’ll help me. I don’t think I actually need their help, but the Psychiatrist wanted me to so that’s that. The guy that assessed me talked about day-patient treatment, but I really don’t think that’s necessary at all and said that. He’s taking my case to their team meeting tomorrow and he’s going to call me back to tell me about what keyworker I end up with and what the treatment will include etc. I don’t even know if they’ll take me because my problems seem pretty tiny in comparison to most of the people they must treat, yet he seemed pretty positive they’d help. But then isn’t that always the way – I assume my problems are completely not important to anyone but me, yet everyone else tells me I need treatment.

So treatment team number 5 is now officially involved. Five. Five treatment teams. Why do so many people not get the treatment they need, yet they keep throwing it at me when I don’t need it or deserve it? It’s not like I’m really that bad in comparison to some of the people I’ve talked to/emailed/read about. It really bugs me.

In other news, I’m not pregnant, which is pretty great. I’ve been freaking out about it for days. Incredibly late period, unprotected sex and yes I did use emergency contraception, but it’s less effective if you use more than once in like 2/3 months or something. So yer, serious freaking out, but I finally caved and did it and it’s fine, which is one massive stress off my shoulders, but it was quickly replaced by another – if I’m not pregnant, where’s my period gone? I do not want to have lost weight again and although I haven’t checked for a while, I was pretty sure I hadn’t, but now not so much. And there are so many other reasons you can lose your period, some of which are serious and some of which aren’t. I’m just going to pretend it isn’t an issue for a few more weeks and see what happens. I’ll go G.P. in a bit if it doesn’t sort itself out, but I’m there so often I feel like an idiot, needy bitch each time I go and think all the G.P.’s find me annoying and hate me.

In further, slightly (to most people) or incredibly (to me) traumatically, I accidentally shut the car door on my headphone jack today. If it had been the wire, it would have been fine, but it was the jack, which has now split. I now have no good headphones for walking with. I (obviously) immediately ordered some more on amazon and paid an extra £8 so they’ll turn up tomorrow, but I cursed and cried a lot a lot about it throughout the day. Plus I have no idea what time they’ll show up tomorrow, so I’m stuck in the house until they show, which both sucks (because I hate being shut in) and is great (because it means I won’t have to go anywhere with rubbish music capabilities). Plus my new headphones are prettier because they are cream colour.

But since I wrote this about an hour ago, I’ve had suicide threats thrown at me since and now I want to completely obliterate my entire brain into a haze of alcohol and drugs.

Fuck all this.

Thursday 1st November.

So today, I finally sobered up. I had to be sober for therapy this morning. Generally, I’m all for dramatic displays of distress – I storm out of therapy, storm in again, pout in anger etc. – but I make a point of turning up at therapy sober (not including Valium). I want to have my actual emotions in therapy, not chemically induced ones. After my disastrous phone call and crying, I cut myself quite badly, the HTT gave me some Valium, I drank a lot of vodka, went to the pub, drunk more vodka, went home with some more vodka, then got a medium amount of off my tits till about 4:30/5am. I then took some zopiclone and diazepam, got comfortably stoned and fell asleep to 30 Rock. The next day was Hallowe’en and I was obviously excited. The Ma buys all these great Hallowe’en themed treats and socks and gruesome scar stickers etc., so I was running around, feeling the festive cheer. It all seemed ok.

Then the HTT psychiatrist came over and I had a horrible conversation, realised I felt really shit about the incident the night before so obviously I spent all of Wednesday abusing my secret stash of diazepam, smoking too much and watching Fresh Meat curled up in bed, absolutely fucked. Obliteration of the mind so you literally cannot think. Even walking the dog was a minefield of not falling over and not going the wrong way and now walking into trees. All I managed to eat yesterday was some Hallowe’en chocolate and the McDonald’s the Brother bought home for me. It was all high calorie so I’m hopeful it was enough food. I just couldn’t deal with how horrible my insides are and all the guilt and it sucked out, so I just made it too chemically difficult to have coherent thoughts.

I’ve eaten slightly better today. Lots of fruit and veg and whole grain carbs so I can feel marginally healthy. As well as some cake (obvs). Therapy was really early, so my sobriety started from the get go. Today, therapy was hard. I’m pissed at the Psychologist for calling the Fam, though I tried really hard not to be because I had too much on my mind to not actually talk to him. I’ve put myself in a situation incredibly difficult to get out of and really needed to find new angles to think about. I actually felt good coming home from therapy today because I felt like there could be answers, so was impressively productive when I got home. I paid the Ma back (I owed her over £350 pound), sorted out moving my student account from NatWest to Co-Op because Co-Op are just nicer, found out how to defer the payment of my Professional Careers Development Loan, called uni and found out my dissertation deferral has been accepted and what my new deadline is, as well as what I’ll need to do to enrol as a “Non-attending Student” (which means another student card!), called the uni library to get my books renewed (even though they are hopelessly overdue and I can’t afford to pay them back) and got told they’ll probably waive the overdue fees anyway due to illness, I completed my application for a London Only Mental Health Freedom Pass (FREE TRANSPORT! YUSS!), walked Juno and got her a new lead and decided I’m going to get an iPhone 5 (because I like the clean interface and I want it to sync with my iPad which arrives tomorrow). That is so much more than I ever do. Mostly, I do nothing. I write, watch crap television, lie down a lot and walk the dog. Not today though. I actually sorted shit out. I’m pleased with myself for that really.

But then, as per usual, another phone call, another devastation, another HTT visit (from my #1 favorite, which was good) and now I’ve had some Valium as prescribed and am drinking vodka alone. The HTT person told me I can’t be responsible for other people’s feeling and actions, but that would mean that other people couldn’t give cause my emotional responses and that’s bullshit. So now I think I am the most responsible, the only support network and the worse person ever for trying to put my needs first by using what I’d picked up in therapy. A lot of days wind up like this. In a minute, I’m probably going to get into bed to read some blogs, watch some crap television, cry and try not to cut myself again. Sorry I haven’t been commenting. To be honest, I’ve been a little bit to out of it for coherent sentences. Sorry for being a selfish blog bitch.

Now I’m going to give you a song I should never, ever listen to. I’m going to give you some Postal Service. Give Up has been one of my favorite albums since year 9/10 (whatever year work experience was in my school. I know it was early though because they were all like “it can’t interfere with your G.C.S.E.s blah blah blah.” I used to listen to it on my first generation, pea green iPod mini), so I’ve loved and hated it since before it was cool, whilst it was cool and after it was cool. It is right up there with Transatlantism by Death Cab and Twenty One by Mystery Jets int the top 5 albums that fuck me up. Too much emotional attachment. Too much heartache. Too many memories. So of course, I’m listening to Postal Service now and I thought I’d share with you exactly how my of a fucking disappointment I feel in one of the songs that makes me feel like I have nothing left in the world. So here –

Protected: toxic.

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

mistake.

So I accidentally pressed some keys and published something completely unfinished and without point. To anyone that email subscribes, ignore it and I’ll actually post something soon. Promise.

Protected: crazy person.

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

look! i got an award!

So guys, I got kindly nominated for an award through Rox at Adverse Universe. Although I can’t say that all of her posts are particularly enjoyable, her art is fabz and pretty lolz, plus her recovery experiences are both inspiring, honest and insightful I think. Also, she’s a bit of a bod and as we all know, bods are pretty nang. So yer, you should check it out if you haven’t, though I’m reckoning most of the people who read this would have already.  Genuinely caring woman with a pretty comprehensive handle on words and images.

It’s a bit strange to get nominated for things. I don’t really get the whole thing really. I don’t write primarily for a blog audience, but for my actual friends who read this. I don’t really do that much blog promotion and I’m not trying to share actually interesting or original things, but just want to let the friends that never went away know a bit about me and how I got to the place I’m in and why I can be a bit of a weirdo. However, as I got kinda more into the blog thing, I realised that the community experience thing is entirely fantastic. I’ve found so much support from some seriously admirable people and it honestly makes the whole recovery processes ten million billion times less lonely. I mean, on purely a physical kick, recovery is entirely lonely. Gaining weight is something no one seems to do all that much and society tends to frown upon it. Having a bunch of people who are going through the same thing makes it feel more acceptable, which I think makes it easier. And then there’s the thought processes and all that stuff, and to be honest, it’s so good to have other people talk about their experiences. You realise that actually, although the people are different, the eating disorders are all kinda the same. It makes the disordered stuff easier to identify and you find out so many useful ways of working through if from the experiences of others. So yer, getting awards is a bit weird, but in a good way because this tiny corner of the blog world has been an incredibly asset in my recovery. It’s nice because you feel more included.

Without further ado.

The steps to take, preferably with joy

1. Include the award logo somewhere in your blog.
2. Answer these 10 questions, below, for fun if you want to.
3. Nominate 10 to 12 blogs you enjoy. Or you pick the number.
4. Pay the love forward: Provide your nominee’s link in your post and comment on their blog to let them know they’ve been included and invited to participate.
5. Pay the love back with gratitude and a link to the blogger(s) who nominated you.

The Questions: 

1. What is your favorite colour?

Yellow. It’s just so happy.

2. What is your favorite animal?

Slow lorises. Because they are just so unbelievably slow. And great white sharks. Because sharks get such a bad rep, but they’re just so good. They’re so perfectly evolved and so brutal. I always want them to win in documentaries. I really like predators in general. And whales. Because they are HUGE.

3. What is your favorite non-alcoholic drink?

Coffee. Or diet coke, but I’m ashamed at diet coke because I know just how evil they are. I got over that addiction for a bit, but then I stopped smoking and got re-addicted. When I’m more comfy not smoking, I’m gonna try cut back again.

4. Do you prefer Facebook or Twitter?

I don’t understand twitter, so facebook. But I hate facebook. So much. And to be honest, I don’t really understand it either. Plus I just end up staring at all the people I know who are more beautiful than me and living way better lives. Essentially, it makes me feel bad about myself. So maybe twitter.

5. What is your favorite pattern?

You know something? I have never even considered this. I’ve never looked at a pattern and thought “now that is slightly better than polka dot, but not as good as paisley.” I’m trying to pick a pattern I like out of the ones I can see, but my room is full of clashing patterns so it’s slightly overwhelming. Plus then there are all those patterns in nature. And I’ve taken enough hallucinogens to really appreciate a good fractal. I think I like patterns too much to decide, though now I’m going to put serious thought into a pattern top five because I think I’ve found a hole in my rolling, internal top five index.

6. Do you prefer giving or getting presents?

I’m rubbish at buying presents, and I love to get them so probably receive, though that makes me sound like a bitch. I always worry that I’ll get the present wrong and the other person will hate it thus hate me and think I’m an idiot. I spend hours and hours looking for the perfect gift when I go present shopping and end up getting really upset and stressed and spending far more money than I can afford in the hunt for the perfect give, then hate everything I’ve bought anyway and feel ashamed to give them to people. It’s stressful. I tend to like all the presents I get though because in general, I tend to like stuff. Plus it’s so lovely that people care enough. However, I do really like buying treats for people. Not presents, but treats. I like baking for them, or buying especially nice chocolate for them, or tickets for a night out, or dinner, or cocktails, or stupid cheap plastic toot that makes me laugh, or picnics. It’s not the same as presents though, its implusive treats that require no thought.

7. What is your favorite number?

Eight. I used to eat in eights, when I’m stressed I do eights (write or say or tap eight sets of eight sets of eights. By the time you’ve done, you’re calmer because you really have to concentrate. If you get it wrong, you have to start again, so it required concentration) and other, so good, some a lot less good things. Just in general, eight looks and feels comfortable, it feels like a nice complete set, it multiplies and divides well, plus the digit is continuous so leaves nothing hanging. I promise you though, I’m really not OCD.

8. What is your favorite day of the week?

Tuesday. Because it feels fresh. The worst is Thursday. Thursday is always stormy.

9. What is your favorite flower?

Umm… A yellow one? I really don’t know flowers. I like daffodils because the grow in the forest and the dandelions on my lawn, but there are nicer flowers out there, I just don’t know what they are or worry enough about them. I like trees and moss and lichen best. Flowers are pretty, but not as interesting to me.

10. What’s your passion?

You know what, I’m actually quite low on passion at the moment. When I’m able to feel passionate, I am about my subjects (anthropology and archaeology both), though I do genuinely believe that anthropology is actual such a crucial discipline when used correctly. Actually, archaeology is aswell. Much more than history. Archaeology is the only way to learn facts about the human past. Lots of people think archaeology naturally feeds into historical facts and this isn’t strictly true. Archaeologists and historians disagree all the time, though use each others findings to fuel their own analyses of the past. History comes from documents, archaeology comes from things. And because of that, archaeology proves historical evidence wrong pretty regularly. Documents aren’t fact, they are the opinion of someone from the past. Things are facts though. How we interpret either is entirely subjective and completely fallible, but the fact that things existed in the places they were found at certain times is fact. Plus without archaeology, all of prehistory would be completely unknowable. I’m also passionate about science, politics and the things I hate. I hate with a passion even when I’m not full of enjoyable passion. I passionately hate.

Nominees. Most of the blogs I read have been nominated elsewhere. Or they seem to have stopped blogging for the moment. Or I read them secretly so they don’t know and I don’t really want to spring a “hey – You don’t know me but…” on anyone. I’ve been kinda floating in and out of blogging due to university stresses (which is now on to dissertation. All day. Every day. Really depressing. All the time) so haven’t had much time to involve myself in some of the blogs I’ve more recently found. I will mention two though that I haven’t noticed nominated elsewhere.

Have your cake – Really lolz, really nice, recovery orientated blog. Genuinely a favorite blog and so helpful to me. And suitably grumpy which I actually enjoy. So many shared experiences and so much help and support.

With Eyes Closed I Look Closer – I’m pretty sure she was one of the first people to read my blog after my real world friends. She’s struggled a lot but is making serious headway in recovery at the moment and is honestly a really supportive friend so deserves  a shout out. Without this blogger, it would have taken me a lot longer to find my blogging stride, plus it would have been a lot lonelier.

All the other peeps I like and read should just do this too. I officially nominate you, if you haven’t already been :).

So there you go.

concrete actions.

So tomorrow, my life turns to shit for a few weeks. I’ve got this take home exam which is basically just like normal uni essays, except I have to do two in as many weeks with no prior time to prep. It’s going to be rubbish and chances are I’m not going to blog or keep up with anyone in internet or more conventional ways, so I figured I get a post out before it all kicks off and I crawl into a tiny hole and cry at how unfair university can be.

Basically, there’s still a lot on my mind that I’m struggling with and I’m finding myself kinda lost if that makes sense. And scared. Things are pretty scary for me at the moment. Scary and sad. I saw the CMHT people on Thursday with the promise of trying some new medications, but my technical consultant (whom I’ve never met – I see his SHO) wasn’t there to confirm prescriptions so that was supposed to be held of till Friday. On Friday I had a call explaining that my consultant wants to meet me with his SHO to discuss options. They’re seeing me pretty quickly (next Tuesday. Hideous looking day – weird psychologist and dietitian double team session including weigh-in, followed by this) and there was lots of talk of “first possible time to fit you in.” They also want me to bring my parents. I don’t know why. I asked why and they didn’t tell me. I’m 23. I don’t need my parent’s permission and I don’t see how it’s appropriate for them to be there when I potentially have to discuss my symptoms with someone I’ve never met to decide on medications. That gets to be confidential, doesn’t it? So I’m not taking my parents until I can suss out why this consultant I’ve never met wants to meet them. The whole thing is just adding to the fear and stress. I don’t really understand what’s going on and no one will explain it to me. I hate not knowing. I did see the EDU psychiatrist today. I tried really hard to explain at least some of what’s going on with her, but she wasn’t that useful either. She basically said “Talk to the psychologist and talk to the CMHT.” She did weigh me though and I’m successfully maintaining (slightly down, but no concern) so that’s good.

Basically, I’m just waiting for someone to tell me what’s wrong with me and give me directions on how to make it better. I keep pinning my hopes on appointments to give me some direction, but I just end up more upset and more confused. I just don’t know what’s going on and I really want to understand so that I can start working on feeling better. I want to feel well again.

So for now, I’m trying to think about the aspects of the behavioural traits of anorexia I need to work on. I do think about them often, but I’m struggling to let go of them and I don’t think I’m trying hard enough. However, I just want to focus on something to fix right now. I don’t know how to fix anything else, but I can see and understand what I have to do to beat these behaviours with a stick until they fuck off out of my life. Knowing what to do and actually doing are two different things though, so I’m coming up with a list to try to imprint in my mind what isn’t ok.

Here goes…

• I can’t eat with other people – Well I probably could, but I don’t. I find it difficult when other people are eating. Firstly, I find eating kinda disgusting. Just the actual process of eating, from cutting up food to swallowing. It just makes me feel gross, even when someone else is doing it. Chewing noise as well. Plus I find it really difficult to fit other people’s eating patterns – the times they eat, the way the eat, the speed they eat, how much they talk when they eat etc. Eating with others adds a whole extra dimension of worrying, comparisons and generally feeling icky.
• I won’t eat food other people have prepared – Which is ridiculous seeing as I will eat restaurant food sometimes. I just won’t eat the Mum’s cooking. Or my friends’ cooking. If people I actually know cook, I won’t eat it. It makes me agitated  and panicky. It’s all I can think about for hours before and after the event. Sometimes, I’ll think I’m going to do it, then about an hour before I’m supposed t, it’s all got too much and I pull out.
• I’m still way scared of lots of foods – meat, liquid calories, pastry, butter, potatoes, pasta etc. The list is actually pretty long. I do try with some of them. I had a whole week once of eating meat once a day. Then I stop for a couple of days, and it’s gone again. It never seems to stick. I’m just really scared of eating and I hate it. It all comes down to possible weight in the end, but there are lots of different reasons for lots of things. I’m scared of watermelon because its high Gi even though calorie wise, it’s basically nil for fuck’s sake. I wish I wasn’t scared of so many things.
• I time my food in a ridiculous way – My timings are way less strict than they used to be, but it’s still ridiculous to have eating schedules. When I’m hungry, I just don’t eat. I’d rather be hungry then eat off schedule. I hate that I’m so awful at trusting my body. I’m kinda hungry now. I won’t eat though. Doesn’t matter that I’m hungry. Which is stupid. I could definitely be hungrier though. And my sleep is terrible at the moment, and lack of sleep is supposed to make you hungrier. So who knows if I need any food? I don’t. I ignore my body all the time. I’d like to learn to trust it again.
• I eat repetitively – Day in, day out, I eat the same foods. I eat them because I know that if I do, it won’t be too much. I’ll also feel comfortable with how healthy it is. I still worry about eating healthy so I stick to lots of grains and veggies and pulses. I eat foods in certain orders. For instance, I eat blueberries at breakfast, raspberries at lunch, strawberries at dinner and blackberries before bed. I won’t eat any other berry at breakfast, only blueberries. And I won’t eat blueberries after breakfast either, because that’s not where they belong. Even if I want blueberries. I eat a cereal bar and apple as my morning snack. Every single day since September. I’m not exaggerating here either. I don’t chose foods I want – I eat what I know I’m ok with.
• I walk a lot –  Like a lot a lot. This needs to be cut down probably. I am trying though. Really trying. It’s not just walking though. It’s standing up on the tube. It’s running up escalators. It’s all the tiny bits of the day where I think “I’ll burn more calories if I do it this way.” And trust me, that’s a lot of my day.
• I may not weigh myself everyday, but I take my measurements multiple times a week – Sometimes even multiple times a day. I body check really badly. Every day, about six times, I’ll try to work out how much my thighs touch. They do definitely touch, but I can stand with them touching entirely if I push my hips forward (I have very narrow hips), or I can stand with them not the more I arch my back. I can’t work out how I naturally stand so I can’t work out which is my usual. I try to catch myself off guard, but that’s kinda impossible. I do this with my belly too – try to catch myself off guard so to see my usual amount of breathing in/out, tension, posture etc. It’s weird and obsessive.
• I overestimate everything – Portion wise, I pretty much suck. It’s best when things come in pre-packaged portions because then I know it’s the right amount. Otherwise, I play it “safe”. I know I do this. Especially with spreads. And milk. And cereal. I try not to, but end up doing it anyway.
• Calorie counting – Seriously. I can’t not. I try not to. I really really try. Then I do. As per. Like an idiot. Gah – I fucking hate it. Which means I know I’m eating less than I’d planned to. I’m sticking to what my dietitian suggested, but that’s not even what I think is best. But add that to overestimating and basically, chances are I’m eating less than I think. Probably why I’m hungry right now.
• Displacement activities – When I’m hungry, I drink black coffee, pints of water, herbal teas, diet cokes, eat sugar-free mints, chew sugar-free gum etc. I’ve started to keep my mouth occupied without food. I think this is partly to do with smoking too, but it isn’t good. I realised that if I have a diet coke with my meals, I get much more full, so I’ve started to do that so I won’t want to eat. Why would I not want to eat? That’s a stupid question – I know why I don’t want to eat. But it’s stupid that I do it. It’s stupid that I let that thought win.

I have got to start tackling these things. Right now, they’re kinda harmless. I’m not losing weight really, my team think I’m a healthy weight, I am eating, I am trying, but I’m not rid of everything. I’ve come a massively long way – I can use normal size cutlery now and everything (that was the last thing I attempted to conquer). It’s just the more you work at it, the more little things pop up, or old habits start to sneak back in again. It’s ok. It’s not too big of a deal right now as long as I’m aware and I try to fix it. I really hope I can fix it, I’m just lacking in motivation. Uni stress plus the fact that I’m really struggling more generally and feel bloody rubbish make it hard for me to want to do anything about these things. Right now, the plan is to stop counting calories and to eat dinner the Mum has prepared with my Mum at least twice a week. She doesn’t actually know about this so maybe telling her would be a start. Also, trying to integrate more fear foods – the ever lasting battle I swear.

I wish I felt stronger right now. I feel horrible. I hate feeling horrible. I’ve got work to do on so many fronts. I really have to start channelling my need for concrete action into conquering these lingering issues. Maybe if I can act out getting better, my mood will follow. It’s all I can do right now. Here’s hoping.

Wish me luck on this godawful exam :(

standing up.

I’ve been neglecting the internet recently.  Comment neglecting, email neglecting, blog neglecting. Sorry. I’ve had a lot to process these past couple of weeks. I’ve not really done anything except have serious chats with people to help me get some perspective and reassurance, have panic attacks, walk and cry. All whilst trying to keep up with a mad load of uni work. Real life was too much as it was – internet things were not a priority. It’s ok though. I think it will all work out being really good for me and won’t end up being a negative experience. I’m actually not complaining about it, but it has been hard.  The whole experience makes me feel sick.

I don’t know if this post will end up positive or negative or what I will end up saying. We will see I guess. I don’t really know what I’m going to say. I guess we’ll see.

The psychologist is a G. I’ve been freaking out this week and I called to ask for an earlier appointment. I thought it’d be a flat-out “No”, but instead my appointment was moved and I was offered some time to chat there and then on the phone. I think I got pretty lucky with the psychologist really. I’ve heard some pretty bad stories about treatment of eating disorders on the NHS, but my team seem to really have the support of my needs as the basis of  my treatment. I’m really thankful for that actually.

Anyway, it was probably a really unproductive session as far as body image and food and weight and obvious eating disorder things go, but it was really helpful to me anyway and I think it’ll be really helpful to my recovery process. With a lot of help from people who care for me, it’s become apparent that I’ve been treated pretty appallingly by someone I really trust and it has really knocked back my self-esteem. I believe I deserve to be treated this way because I am rubbish, but really, no one deserves it. No one deserves to be consistently told how awful they are over and over again. It isn’t ok to do that. However much people tell me this, I find it hard to believe otherwise. I feel like I have to be nice and supportive and helpful to someone who has damaged my confidence and belief in myself. I don’t want to do anything that might hurt them. My needs aren’t as important because obviously I’m awful. What’s good for me doesn’t matter as I don’t deserve it and need to put myself second and keep someone else secure. Therapy yesterday really helped me put this into a different perspective.

I find it really difficult to think about what it is that I really need. I try to be supportive and caring and just dismiss what would make me feel better. I always feel like I’d be being rude or mean or selfish. Thing is, I wouldn’t be. If someone treats you badly and shows little respect for you and your feelings, you don’t owe them anything. If someone is emotionally manipulating you, you don’t need to be nice about it. It doesn’t make you bad to follow what’s best for you. You can put the decision off, ignore them forever, talk them through it etc. – as long as it’s helpful to you. Literally, a decision made with your needs in mind is the right decision to make. The truth is, I’d been forced to put my needs second so often that it’s just so ingrained. Although I didn’t want to, I already knew what I needed from this situation. I needed to get away from it. So I did (in the politest way I could think of). I sent an email explaining my feelings and explaining that I couldn’t see them right now as it was all too hard. I didn’t apologise for doing this as there is nothing wrong with it. I have been treated badly and am worth more. In order to gain some confidence and find out what I am without this negative imput, I have to break away from that situation entirely. It was incredibly difficult to do and hurt every second, but I needed to make the break. I needed to set boundaries which will help me to establish what I deserve. No more calls, chats, texts, meetings. I feel like a huge part of me has been ripped out, but at the same time, I know I’m worth more than what I’ve been given. I asserted myself and put my needs first. I feel like a bitch, but I’m not. I did the right thing. It will help me to progress recovery wise and help me to build my confidence back.

I am not responsible for someone else’s feelings or actions, only my own. I have to learn how to look after my self and my mental well-being. I’m not very good at that, but if I disregard my needs, I’m only making life more difficult for myself. I may not think I’m worth it yet, but I have to learn to stand up for myself. So I did.

Now comes the really confusing part of working out what the fuck I am now. If what I’ve been told I am isn’t actually true, I have no clue what I’m like. I don’t know what bits are good and what bits are bad. I don’t even know what bits are normal. My mind constantly feels like it’s exploding. I think I’m getting some hormones lately because I keep raging from crying whilst staring in the mirror thinking “I want to be deserving” then laughing over silly things then pouting over memories then singing to my happy playlist then thinking about all the boys that are pretty (hence the hormone thing – I swear I’m like thirteen. I think about how nice boys are a lot. I also have a spotty chin :(). My moods are confused, my identities confused, my memories are confused. Everything is bloody confused. I’ve never felt so utterly crushed and completely excited all the time. It’s weird. It leads me to spend a vast amount of time getting panicked and very physically anxious. I literally don’t know what I think about anything.

All I know is I’ve got to learn to respect myself so that I can defend myself against anyone in the future who might choose not to. I don’t want to be hurt like this again.

Lots of work to do I guess.

Also this week, I’ve found out my eyesight is worse so now have to wear glasses more frequently and chances are, I’m looking in two different directions more often than I have in the past. The wonkiness of my face plagues me. It seems to get less and less balanced by the day. And I don’t want to wear glasses all the time. Urgh.

And I have osteopenia. A coupe of my lumber vertebra are osteoporotic, but the overall score is osteopenia. Double urgh. Still no sign of a period and thinning bones at the age of 22. I don’t want them to get worse. I really really don’t. I’m thinking of adding a whole load more fat to my diet to try to encourage hormonal production as quickly as possible. I hate that I’ve damaged myself. In a couple of years, my bones will finish developing and any further repair will become difficult. I’ve got a lot of repair work to do in a short amount of time to try to get up to an optimum bone density again. I hate this fucking disorder.

Needless to say, this week has been hell.

But there are positive things too! Today whilst I was getting dressed, I actually spent some time looking in the mirror. I never do this for long as I hate what I look like, but today I’d spent so long in my dressing gown that my skin was getting all dry from the shower and I had to mad-rush moisturize. I sat at my dresser in my underwear and really looked. And you know what? I looked bloody good. Sure I have a little belly these days, but it looked soft and nice. I couldn’t see all my ribs and the bones in my chest and I thought “Actually, maybe that’s a bit better”. My arms didn’t look too big, my face looked all soft and feminine, I’m beginning to notice the fat I’ve gained starting to redistribute a little and I thought “You are properly buff actually.” Not my face, but my body. It didn’t feel big and clumsy. It felt normal and nice. That feeling disappeared with lunch when I suddenly became a planet all over again, but it was there. For a few hours I actively liked my body. That doesn’t happen often. Yesterday I really liked my legs for about an hour when I was dancing on the overground as well. I caught my reflection and thought “Yeah – they’re good legs.” And I actively like my bum most of the time. Maybe I’m getting there with the body image thing. Gradually.

And my bass guitar! A particularly fantastic friend bought me a whole bass and amp and other bits because they are lovely. So whenever things are particularly difficult, I try to learn some of the tracks from my happy playlist to cheer me up. I’m not very good, but it’s fun and it distracts a lot of my sense, plus I’m learning a skill which is always good. I know some really great people. I don’t know what I did to deserve such lovely friends. I’ve got all the thanks right now.

So yer, sorry for being an internet wasteman.

replying.

Basically, all my replies (both online and in textual form) were really very lovely and reassuring. Thank you. I realised when I was writing out replies that actually, I would just wind up being repetitive, so I thought I’d do a quick post.

I know entirely that it wouldn’t be a bad thing for me to gain that weight and that it most likely isn’t fat. And I know I’m actually being entirely dramatic which doesn’t help matters. Slowly but surely I’m dealing with it though. I got carried away and let disordered thoughts perpetuate mathematically laziness. I rounded up figures, I’ve counted it from my last weigh in figure to the number on my home scales (which always weigh me as more than my dietician’s scales). That was almost two weeks ago now, but due to obsessive weighing, I know that this time last week, I’d maintained. I’m just scared because the weight did jump up.

Then I woke up weighing a pound less than yesterday. Go figure.

So it’s actually not as dramatically as I thought. I got myself carried away with feeling rubbish and letting incredibly destructive thought processes take over for a little while. I think my gain over the past 12 days (since my last weigh in) is less than a kilo, which is actually pretty average.

But this morning, I didn’t have time to think about it this much as I was in a mad rush to get to therapy. I’d planned to have not enough time for breakfast or make up (read – “I’m so ugly and fat it doesn’t matter!!”), so ran around a lot so I could actually eat and look presentable and didn’t process the change in weight. When I got there, basically just sulked and was really stubborn today with the psychologist (read – “I was right! I want to leave treatment! I’m fat and ugly and rubbish and nothing you can say can possibly make that any different. You all lied”). Totally unproductive. Now I have thought about it more, I guess I was probably being a little over dramatic (read – A LOT over dramatic. Lots of “I’m so fat! I want to die!” No joke of a lie that is what my head kept repeatedly thinking. And at one point I flailed onto my bed because “What is the point of even trying to do anything?”).

Basically I’m a massive idiot. An incredibly dramatic, massive idiot. I think I may have reverted back to an angry at the world, off-kilter hormones thirteen year old.

So anyway, after reading comments when I got home, and actually thinking about how ridiculous this all is, I had a peanut butter kitkat chuncky because they’re back you know, and they are really good! I fancied a small rebellion against entirely over dramatic, stupid thoughts. Apparently, my brand of eating disorder is lord of the over statement. And you know what, I did eat fish and chips and they were bloody lovely. And I’d do it again. In fact, I did pretty fantastically all things considered. And you know, I am actually trying to gain weight (as much as my brain likes to forget that quite often) so what did I really expect? I was hoping that I’d have lost but why would I expect that?  And I don’t think I can possibly look noticeably bigger with that amount of weight gain so it’s all irrational silliness.

So I guess 24hour madness is exactly right. Huh.

And you know what else – the bezzie of all the many bezzies is coming over tonight for some post-relationship comfort and I am going to get incredibly drunk and I haven’t restricted my calories to accommodate for that.

Hopefully, this’ll work out to be a minor blip. Pack up the bags and move on.

eleven things.

I got tagged by Katie in something! I have never been tagged before so it’s a little exciting. I like doing it though. I was kinda fun.

Eleven things about me (they’re not all that interesting, sorry) –

1) I have top five lists for almost everything. They’re not written, but I just know them. They get edited a lot, but there’s always a top five. And if there isn’t a top five yet, as soon as I notice the lack, I make one. It’s a natural thought process for me. It covers things from songs to stationary items to conversations to places I’ve been and also types of cutlery. I like to rate things.

2) I really love stationary. Like so much. And I’m picky about it. I only use certain brands of certain pens. My filofax is my favorite thing right now. Or maybe it’s my new journal which is the most beautiful thing I have ever owned. I’m entirely obsessive about it though. I know what quality of paper is best for me, what thickness of pen nib, I constantly carry around at least 3 notebooks of some description because I keep multiple journals and also like to have a general notebook on hand just in case. I firmly believe that a person cannot afford to be blasé about stationary needs. My top 5 stationary items are

• my filofax
• my journal
• black clicky ball point biros from paperchase. It used to be muji ones but they got really bad quality recently
• my ruler from muji that also doubles as a protractor as it folds at certain degree increments
• narrow squared paper. This generally has to be a european brand because we don’t really do good squared paper in the U.K.

3) I don’t understand why people have favorite colours. It’s the most useless, inane thing and absolutely meaningless. If  you think about it, colours are all basically the same really. Except yellow is obviously the best.

4) I am a massive girl. I think a lot of people don’t realise this, but I am. I like nail varnish and make up and really good bath stuff. I’m quite brass and cockney and rude and loud and opinionated and I swear a lot, so people tend to think I’m a bit boyish. I don’t dress the girly part all that often either. I like dresses and all, but I’m consistently casual really and never go for high maintenance looks. Plus I have a deep voice for a girl, broad shoulders and absolutely no curves. However, it takes me at least an hour and a half to leave the house, I really like pink, I can look at clothes for hours, I like standard home-maker activities, I most extreme activity I enjoy is walking in forests and countryside, I’m obsessively clean, I pamper myself on a regular basis, I like pretty things. Sometimes people are really surprised by these things. It makes me worry that I come across excessively manly. Just because I don’t wear heels doesn’t mean I’m not a girl.

5) In my undergraduate course, I processed a disarticulated human skeleton (basically meaning I cleaned it, put it back together and used the bones to find out about the person). I’m pretty sure I could still identify and name basically every bone in the human body (including the small bones in the hands, feet and ears and the different fully fused bones that create one bony mass out of many separate bones like in the pelvis and skull). I can put together, age, sex and identify bone pathology pretty accurately I think because I really loved that unit and got the revision down pretty well. Scary stuff happens to your bones if your unlucky. My skeleton had a collapsed vertebra, spina bifida occulta (asympotmatic variation of spina bifida), trama on his femur and osteoarthritis in his knees. He was about 35 and 5’7″. It’s a bit reassuring to know about skeletons because I’m pretty scared about what I’ve done to my bones over the years, but then I think “could be worse” because it really could. There’s this one spinal disease where the ligaments in your vertebral column fuse together and your spine starts to look like a candle dripping with wax. And there’s a particular arthritis that only a small percentage of people who suffer from psoriasis get – it’s in your toes. In the great scheme of bone diseases, osteoporosis is not the scariest. I find that comforting.

6) I unashamedly like sci-fi, fantasy and action genres. I think a lot of people don’t like them because they don’t think its cool, like if it’s not imparting some great wisdom or insight or it’s not indie, it’s rubbish. These people are wrong. I like arty, indie things too, but you know what? Other genres are really good because they are fun. I love Battlestar Galactica because it is actually one of the best recent T.V. shows in a serious way, yet people I know won’t watch it because it’s sci-fi. I really like Farscape because it’s silly. I also like superheroes and they get the same prejudices. Cheesy action movies are really great too guys. Genuinely. It’s the same with people and books too. Come on guys, have some fun!

7) I do not judge Tom Cruise’s professional career on his (albeit bizarre and not exactly my prefered lifestyle choices) personal life, the same way as I wouldn’t judge my dentist. Tom Cruise has been in some brilliant films. Firstly, I defy anyone to not really enjoy Top Gun. Secondly, he can actually act (Collateral people). Thirdly, Legend is an epic movie and trust me, if you like Zelda, you’ll love it. The list could really go on – so many good films I swear. I’ve had to defend Tom Cruise so many times that he’s slowly developed into one of my favourite actors. Plus, he totally saved an old woman from a mugger – what a G.

Top 5 Tom Cruise films

• Top Gun
• Valkyrie
• Legend
• Collateral
• Risky Business

8) I can tap dance actually quite well. I never wanted to be a dancer or anything, so never took it seriously. I learnt in a church hall across the road from my house, but just kept going for a really long time because it’s really fun. You get to make a lot of noise. I’m actually a high enough grade to teach tap, but I don’t have any urge to. I did ballet as well, but I was rubbish at that because I’m just not graceful and I’m too big for it and I tend to bump into things and fall over a lot. Tap however, is actually really fun. It’s big and loud and involves a lot of jumping about. I wanted to keep doing tap, but had a big argument with my teacher over ballet and never went back. It’s probably my fault because I was drunk in my ballet lesson (it was the last day of term and I was 17 so not entirely unexpected behaviour) – I don’t think she knew but I was but I was probably a bit of a dick. I tried to carry on at university, but they only had evening classes and due to the fact that I really struggle being outside in the dark since the attack, it just isn’t feasible during the winter when everyone signs up.

9) One of my main motivators for recovery is that I really want to get old and be a mean little old lady with lots of cats. I want to get to the age where it’s ok to be rude because you’re old so no one tells you off. I want to steal children’s toys that end up in my garden. I want a perm and to only wear dresses made of 100% synthetic fabric that does not need to be ironed. Can’t do that if I don’t get healthy.

10) I jump around at least once a day because it puts me in a good mood. Seriously, jumping is a really good way to feel a little better. I like to jump around in circles. Not for long or anything, but just to make me see the world in a happier way. I realised this through becoming obsessed with aerobics classes and though I’m not sure I’ll ever do aerobics again, jumping is something I hope to keep in my life for rainy moments.

11) From the ages 4 to 16, I had the same thing for lunch every day – a peanut butter sandwich on white bread, a small chocolate bar, a packet of crisps, a yogurt, an apple and a capri sun. Every single day. At school or at home. I didn’t ever get bored with it either. I continued to eat that lunch regularly, just because it was my favourite, until I was about 19 and my eating disorder habits started to sneak their way in. Sometimes I’d have cream cracker sandwiches instead of white bread, and occasionally ribena instead of capri sun, but it was all basically the same. I was an extremely selective eater so I never really get bored with eating the same foods over and over because I’ve done it my entire life so that wasn’t really an issue. Lunch of champions that is.

1. What made you start blogging?

Basically, I started finding other recovery based blogs and they made me feel a little better and less alone. Then I thought “I don’t want to be ashamed of all this”. Then I thought I want to let the people in my life who persistently call or text me and I habitually ignore what’s going on. I figured that way, when I see them they’ll know what’s going on with me without me having to dwell on it. I hope it worked. Plus now I like all the blog people too because they make me feel less lonely.
2. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

Really not all that much. It probably involved being young and far too much acid. Acid makes me incredibly silly and everything is hilarious and confusing and nice, but also, everything is moving. I miss recreational drugs, but I’m not sure my mental stability would thank me if I went down that road right now.
3. When was the last time you laughed until it hurt, and why?

A few weeks ago. I was really sad and the boy was trying to cheer me up, but I was not being very open to the idea. He works in a race relations charity and he told me about a letter they got sent. It was complaining about Diane Abbots comments recently and the person who sent it wrote “As a ginger person, I experience racism on a regular basis.” I didn’t expect this and I laughed so suddenly and so loudly and so ridiculously. This might not make sense to anyone as it revolves around a lot of in-jokes from undergraduate times. But yeah, it hurt a lot because I just wasn’t expecting it.
4. Are you a morning or evening person?

Morning definitely. I turn into a moody, grumpy mess when I’m tired. Saying that though, olanzapine makes it increasingly difficult to wake up and makes me bare groggy for about 2 hours after waking up at noon so maybe I’ll be a night person from now on.
5. This has been asked before, but I don’t care, it’s interesting – who would you invite to your ideal dinner party and why?

Ben Goldachre because I love him. And Yottam Ottolenghi because he always seems so nice and his food looks nang. And George Clooney because he seems to be having a lot of fun.
6. What did you want to be when you grow up?

A bumblebee. Then when I worked out that I couldn’t be a bumblebee, I wanted to own a newsagent. Then I thought that was boring so I wanted to own a newsagent within an insect based theme park so I could legitimately dress as a bumblebee to fulfil both my dreams at once. No joke.
7. What do you want to be now? Are you already there or working towards it?

In a dream world, I’d like to get a PhD. and become an academic anthropologist, but that probably won’t happen as PhD’s are way too much money. I am doing an MA though so I guess I’m working towards it. But I think it won’t happen. Realistically, I wouldn’t mind being an early years teacher, but I’m doing nothing to further that goal right now.
8. Order or chaos?

I want to say chaos because it’s definitely cooler, but that’d just be a lie. I really like order. I enjoy tidying and filing and colour coordinating notes and types of appointments in my filofax (fun is orange, hospital is red, the boy is pink, uni is green etc.). I like knowing what I’m going to be doing at least a day in advance, preferably more. I have intricate systems for keeping my whole existence in some sort of order, further supported by daily routines which only change in the most planned of ways. I find organisation fun. And lists. Chaos is cooler though. definitely.
9. Science or art?

Well I’m an arts student so I want to stick up for my corner of the academic world. Arts subjects contain a lot of fascinating and completely socially and morally valuable knowledge and can trends seen within these subjects shape how everyone views the world as it shapes the ways in which we analysis and understand ourselves and how we communicate with and understand others. Arts aren’t just paintings and sculptors, they give us the ability to reflect on and criticise socially created paradigms of thought in both academic and real-world settings and I think people often don’t notice how they’re socially constructed views are supported by a long history of consciously developed ideas seen within arts disciplines. Even the ways in which we view scientific thought is shaped by developments within critical thought structures in the arts world. And vice versa. You can’t have one without the other.

I love science though. Especially astrophysics at the moment, though generally I get most caught up in genetics of some description. I read a lot of pop science and like to find out as much as I can at a very amateur level. I think scientific thought is one of the best things about the world today and I find it all entirely awe-inspiring. Plus it’s equally entirely crucial to our understanding of the world and what we are able to do within it. It’s exciting. And so entirely beautiful.

So yeah, I don’t think I could choose. I probably took this answer too seriously but I really love both too much.
10. What’s your favourite thing to eat for breakfast?

I don’t actually know. It definitely used to be sausage baguettes from greasy spoons with chips and extra bread to make chip sandwiches. I haven’t done this in years and my tastes have developed quite a bit, but I have no idea what I actually like to eat, so I don’t know. Right now, out of the very limited range of breakfast foods I eat, I like days when I have crumpets with peanut butter and dorset cereals low-fat flakes with blueberries and soy milk and a big pot of proper coffee. Chances are that’s not my favorite though. I’ve never had a full english or anything like that, porridge is good but I don’t like to have it for breakfast really, and I think I like waffles and pancakes and eggy bread, but can’t eat them so I don’t know.
11. Do you find asking questions or answering them easier?

Answering them. I don’t like coming up with things to say as  my topics are really boring. I’m not really a good conversationalist and tend to get a little too intense.

I’m supposed to do eleven questions and tag eleven other people, but I’m not sure I know enough people to tag. Still, I enjoyed it anyway.