OK this is one of those times when I just need to blog, to write, and I'm not sure where it'll go or what I'll say but I just feel suddenly crap and I don't know what else to do with myself.

I just read an article about Helen Mirren and the 'date rape isn't really rape' fiasco, which has obviously made me very angry. I should just stop reading the news haha, stupid people make me cross! Well, it's not even stupidity, that's the thing - it's attitudes that I know are working against me every second of every day. Every time people bring up the subject of when rape isn't rape (as though that's a category anything could fall into), it exacerbates this feeling I have of wanting to hide under a duvet on the sofa and never let anybody see me.

Going out I often feel really "looked at", if it's the summer like it is now and I'm out and about in shorts or something, I walk along the main road hoping nobody honks and worrying until I get onto a footpath. If I notice anyone male looking at me I try to get out of the way as quickly as I can. I touched on this in the body positivity post I did the other week. But any mention of people's attitudes towards rape just....gah. It makes me scared to show myself anywhere in public, for fear of being open to someone taking advantage, even just having to push off probably harmless but leery drunk people makes me cringe. And feel like it's my responsibility, because if I look nice deliberately, then so many people will blame me for anything that happens, which means I can't look nice without panicking. I'm so terrified of something happening, of even being at a house party or a dinner with people I think I trust and then alcohol happening and everything going wrong...it makes me too scared to drink, and for some reason today, too scared to even go out. Seriously I don't know what's up but I suddenly feel like I want to hide, my mood has plummeted (doesn't help I'm tired and woke up in a bit of a mood), I honestly don't know what to do. I wanted to go out and get something from the shops but now I find myself just sitting here feeling shite and not knowing what to do or how to proceed with anything. What? I don't understand.
Somebody please fix the world and slip me a note through my door so I know. Thanks. x

Let's Talk Bodies! Bodies Bodies Bodies

Inspired by a post by the wonderful Tracey http://justas1am.blogspot.co.uk/ , I decided to follow her lead and do a bit of body blogging. I am much more comfortable with my body than I used to be, and I've made huge strides in eating disorder recovery - and the classic ED paradox of constantly looking at your body, yet never actually managing to see it, because your vision is too full of all the pain and the hurt you're channeling onto your poor old body.

Straight up, life is much better now than is had been for longer than I like to think about, so on a very simple level there's less for me to be dumping on my body and blaming it for. And yet...

The negatives. Let's just say it and be done with it.

LEGS. My legs have been the rather unwilling object of a lot of my perfectionism. They're never thin enough, and I hate the thigh wobble with a passion. I also have a bit of a hang-up about whether or not they touch at the top, how close together I can get my feet before they do, etc - which I know is textbook ED.

HIPS. They're just. so. wide. That's it.

TUMMY. Oh, my poor little tummy. Never flat enough, never small enough. I'm technically ok with it not being flat (there's a womb in there, for fuck sake), but whenever the "flab" sticks out over jeans etc I just want to hide it. And I haven't even got flab, what is wrong with me?!

BUM. Bottom, arse, derriere, glutimus maximus - whatever you call it, everyone I know thinks their is either too flat or too big. This might sound weird but I actually hate the fact that mine is what many would consider ideal. This comes down to being sexy, and the fact that even the thought of it makes me squirm. Obsession with thinness is directly related to this, because thin = good without necessarily =ing sexy. Of course I want to look good, but sexy? Not in a million years. I am incredibly uncomfortable with guys looking at me in a sexual way, but let's face it they're going to whatever you look like! Thanks, instinct. You got my back. NOT.

ARMS. What is it with upper arms? Every photo of me, that's what I look at. -_- I still do that thing, when I'm sat on my bed and I catch myself in the mirror, of resting on my knees because it makes my arms look thinner. Wtf.

FACE. It's lush that I don't think I'm butt-ugly any more, but it's the sexy thing again. Not gonna lie, when I get dressed up and go to a restaurant or whatever, I notice heads turning. And I fucking hate it. I will literally do everything I can to avoid getting up and going anywhere (toilet/outside to answer my phone/etc) because I don't want to walk back in again and be aware of eyes on me. Esdhfljwef *shudder*

Right, that's that done. Now then.
Positives

My body works. It does almost all of the things it's supposed to - ok, my wrists might not really work (RSI, sigh), but they're not totally unusable. I'm sitting here typing, right?

I'm not physically disabled or disfigured. When I say that I'm grateful for this, I don't mean that those who are disabled or disfigured automatically and necessarily have a lower quality of life, because that's clearly BS. But it does make everything so much easier because the whole world is accessible to me, and when I'm travelling I don't have to worry about it. Also as an actor, not being facially/visually disfigured is bloody useful - it shouldn't be, but there it is.

OK, so my thighs wobble. That's because when you shake something, it wobbles. This is not cosmetics, this is basic physics. Ditto for when you sit down - yes, your thighs might suddenly look twice as wide. But hello, that's because they're half as thick. The shape has changed. The amount of fat on them has not.

And while we're talking about wide limbs, let's give a nod to the upper arms. When you hug someone, are they thinking 'gosh I think this person's upper arms are looking 2mm wider than they did before'? No - they're thinking 'mmmmmm hugs :)'.

And as for sexy, well. I might not like the attention, but if anyone dares to act on it without my consent I will sul ki do their ass until they want to crawl back into their mother's womb. And you know what? One of these days I'm gonna fall in love with somebody, and then I shall embark on a meticulously planned campaign of seduction that renders them totally incapable of looking at anyone else without thinking of me. And y'know, if I ever have my heart broken, I've got everything I need to inflict crippling jealousy in the most immature, throwing-toys-out-of-the-pram way possible. So there.

No matter how much I may dislike my body, no matter how much I may use it as a scapegoat for all the other crap going on in my life (if I only lose weight everything will be better! =D ... what? O.o), it does so much that I take for granted. And being able to take a good, well-functioning body for granted is a privilege that I intend to start honouring.

BOOM.
______
You really want to leave me a comment with your body loves and hates. Yyyyeah you do. x

Most people, myself included, find the idea of a 5-month holiday luscious. It's not quite so straight forward when you do actually have things to get done in said holiday (don't we always?), and then you get confused about what 'holiday' means and what your priorities are and how you're hoping to feel by the end etc etc etc.

There's a Doctor Who episode where the Doctor is explaining why he likes to travel with companions - because he can't see the wonder in the universe any more. "When you make the whole of time and space your back yard, what you get is a back yard." I feel similarly about this 5-month break which is not a break; it seems there is a limit to the amount of time you can consistently feel on holiday. When you make holiday living your every day life, what you get is an every day life.

I'm currently in rural Wales visiting family, waiting to hear about extras castings (as ever), and trying to treat the week like a proper holiday. Time away. Don't think about work. I don't count extra-ing as work because I really love it, so I'm trying not to think about tour guiding, which I don't love. I'm actually getting pretty fed up with it tbh. But I feel slightly trapped by needing to have an employer to write references for future things, and the tour company boss is the only person who can currently fill that role so I have to stay on his good side. Not that he would have time to write any references anyway, so I'm not sure what I'm trying to get out of this...

I have changed my desktop wallpaper on my laptop to a summery image of a Hawaiian resort, because a) I grew up in Hawaii and find pictures of it comforting, b) it's a summery image and therefore maybe will help remind me I'm on a proper holiday, and c) I usually stress out a bit when I'm away and open my computer because I'm reminded of all the things I left behind, so I'm experimenting with avoiding that. We'll see. I am enjoying seeing it, at any rate, so I've achieved something.

But if the only way I can come up with to help me feel more relaxed is to change my desktop wallpaper, things are getting serious. Suggestions on postcards. x

After Oliver

It's official: Oliver Twist is OVER.

What madness. It still literally feels like a few days ago I was e-mailing the director, saying sorry I can't make the auditions but are there any small parts for me, I'll be around in July. That was 3 months ago. THREE MONTHS.

Time is going by so very fast, though I'm not sure what would need to happen for it to go by slowly. I keep feeling like I want time to stop, I don't want the future to happen yet because I need something to look forward to and if it's happening, that means it soon will have happened, and what the hell then?

On top of which I'm entering the post-play void which inevitably descends after each production. It's been such good fun and I'm so sad it's over; I always am, so it's no surprise, but the thought that I won't be able to go on that stage and be that character and do those scenes again is genuinely upsetting!

I'll just have to replace it by becoming even more obsessed with the Codeword in the i (and other papers too, apparently - maybe I should start buying those), and oh wait yeah maybe finish those short stories I told my friend I'd write ages ago? I do have plenty to keep me busy, and lots of active relaxing + healing as ever, but I'm going to be feeling that empty Oliver-shaped space for a while. Sadface.

Facebook => Envy

The nice thing about Facebook is that it allows you to keep up with what all your friends and acquaintances are doing.

The problem of Facebook is that it allows you to keep up with what all your friends and acquaintances are doing.

I'm supposed to be chilling out atm. Relaxing. Healing. Having a break. Which I've almost forgotten how to do, so it really doesn't help when I go on Facebook quite innocently and am then bombarded with all the shit my peers are achieving. You know, the Oxford types who write 4 plays, establish a travel magazine and direct Macbeth in one term, and then get a 1st. All these disgustingly energetic, healthy people who can do whatever the fuck they want.

And here's me, stuck at home trying to remember how to relax and stop putting pressure on myself, to stop setting targets and goals and forcing myself to achieve, achieve, achieve. What the hell would I be doing if I wasn't stuck here healing, you know? What if I was as healthy and happy as them? Their CVs are exploding, and I'm not jealous from a jobs perspective (although there is that), because it's not just having a full CV. It's having a CV full of stuff that I want to do. Stuff that I like to think I would be doing if I was running on all cylinders like they are. This revolves around acting and writing, mostly, though there are all kinds of other things too.

I know that if they're happy doing those things, that happiness probably stems only partly from the activities and achievements themselves, and partly from other life factors. But that doesn't shake the huge sense of injustice, of unfairness. Which is rare, actually, in this kind of context. I often resent what I've been through, I find it sad to the point of tragedy how much of my youth I've lost to it, but the "why is this happening to me?" sentiment is not one I'm that familiar with. Now I know why people whinge about it so much...

F*ck Mirrors!

I'm having a moment here.

I was watching a video about putting sticky notes on your mirror(s) with nice qualities about you, and then I started wondering what if I put a diagram of how mirrors work from a physics point of view, to remind yourself that that's all it is. Light bouncing off cells and surfaces and hitting your eyes upside-down and getting flipped over by your brain etc. How all it can show you is the outermost layer of your body as a living organism.

And then it occurred to me that this whole thing of 'you get what you give', 'you're a good person, people love you' etc is quite a nice parallel. Because you are reflected in other people. The way you treat them affects the way they treat you. The way they think of you might be totally different to the way you think of yourself, but then all they're going on is the way you behave towards them, and that's normally very positive. Because we're good at convincing ourselves that we're useless etc, but if you want to know what you look like, use other people as a mirror. Temperament, personality, honesty, integrity - all personal traits reflect themselves in other people, just the same way light reflects off matter.

So please, everybody reading this, stop obsessing over that piece of f*cking glass and go find out what you really look like. The end.

No rest for the wicked

Work is so exhausting!
That's what I have to say right now.

Working supposedly 1 day a week as a tour guide in Oxford but have been doing more than that as a sort of booster start. Every day I've come home I've been absolutely shattered; in fact today, I'm still shattered from yesterday. (Didn't help I forgot to take my meds this morning so have been half-asleep all day, but I'm not really talking physical tiredness here.)

I don't know why it's so draining. It's quite nerve-wracking, I mean, I have to take these groups round and pray that I do well enough to earn money, since their tips minus commission to head office is all the pay I get, so I really feel the pressure. And it's so disheartening and demoralising when you get a stingy group who give you nothing and you're like, well why did I just bother taking you round then? Not working next week at all that I know of, thank fuck! (Unless there's a sudden private booking that needs to be covered, I've just got my fingers crossed that there won't be...)

It's crazy how I'm just tired ALL THE TIME. But then, this is the first time I've actually given myself a break, with no goals (theoretically at least) to meet, for the first time in 9 years. So I need to reach targets with rehearsals and work and I'm writing some short stories as well (Doctor Who fanfiction ftw, megalolz), but I'm refusing to set tasks related to the Masters like learning vocab or politics or whatever. It's like when you don't realise you're tired until you sit down and then you can't get out of the chair.

Well, I've just sat down in my metaphorical chair having been on my feet for the last third of my life. So no wonder I can't even contemplate moving.

Managing Healing - what do you do?!

Hey everyone.

As you may know I came back from Russia in the beginning of April because I basically couldn't take any more - stress from my job, stress from other people messing me around, and all of that on top of other things I was trying to deal with to begin with. When I went out, I was still recovering from the huge amount of stress that is Oxford - and let's not forget that the end of that term was marked by an overdose - and had then been put through a pretty awful summer of uncertainty and frustration just trying to get to Moscow in the first place. When I got there, I spent the first couple of months starting to process the overdose, which I hadn't done until then, and that was obviously quite tough.

What it comes down to is that I hadn't had a break since my depression started, not a real break, not the kind of break that you leave feeling actually able to face life again. Any of the experiences that have fallen between 2004 and now would have warranted some healing time, but part of what's made it such a struggle is that I never get that chance, and every new trial comes before the weight of the one before has been lifted. I was kinda feeling like a huge Jenga tower - just about upright, but put one more block on the top, or take one out from the middle, and I'll collapse completely. That's what was happening. That's why I had to finally put my foot down and leave.

I know it was the right decision because as soon as I made it, something changed. I decided I was going to leave on a particularly horrible afternoon, and that evening I was going out to an English club. As I stood in the metro watching the train coming down through the tunnel, I suddenly realised that I had no desire to jump in front of it. Without even being consciously aware of it, that's what I had been thinking every time I stood on a metro platform for I don't even know how long. I had never been planning to do it, it's just that the thought always crossed my mind, in the way that when you pass a holiday advert you momentarily picture yourself on that beach. Realising that it had stopped was what alerted me to how fucked up it was.

I've been home for two months, and I really don't know where the time has gone. I wanted to use it for healing, but I don't know how to go about it. I'm torn between wanting to set myself tasks and goals, and feeling that actually the constant need for tasks and goals might be contributing to this mess in the first place. I'm not very good at letting things happen gradually, following their own course, even though they have been. I'm not nearly as depressed as I was, in fact I've been feeling much better; my eating and more importantly my attitude to eating has changed, and those are both massive results. But I was sensing that within weeks of coming back, so what have I done with the time since then?

I think the worry is legitimate because I'm starting a Masters in October and if I'm not ready for, if I'm not healed enough by then, I honestly don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do. But neither do I know how to ensure that the necessary healing happens. Aaaah!

Just back from a rehearsal, but for some reason I seemed to be having something of an off night tonight. It just happens sometimes - anyone else reading this who acts will know what I mean - it's not that you can't concentrate, you DO concentrate, it just has no effect! No involvement or engagement with the scenario or the characters, idk why. Maybe cos I'm knackered lol.

Got back late this afternoon from Wales, where I was visiting my family, chiefly my grandma on my dad's side. She lives in a little caravan in my aunt & uncle's garden, the idea being that she still has some degree of independence and so do they, but she turned 90 this spring and she broke her thigh recently so it's been a bit strained up there. She does need to be looked after, to a greater degree than she would like to think, so it's wearing the rest of the family down a bit; still, at least there are a few of them (my dad's 2 sisters and their husbands, and sometimes my cousins who don't live there any more but can be around). Given all that going on it was surprisingly pleasant, though the fact that I didn't do very much is probably connected lol. I was only there for one full day, in which we went out for lunch and then I went to the book club my aunties both attend for dinner, which was surprisingly interesting considering I hadn't read the book!

In other news I got an e-mail today from the research team at the hospital, who used to do regular assessments while I was receiving CBT for my eating disorder. I knew I was going to have an assessment around now because it will have been over a year since I finished the programme, I can't remember when I officially finished because we did quite a bit of hopping around and stopping and starting. I have a funny feeling this is the 2-years-after-end-of-treatment one, but that can't be right because I know I finished officially in 4th Year...anyway, soon I will have to go up to the hospital and be asked loads of awkward questions about my eating and my thinking and all that bollocks, which I'm not looking forward to, but I already know that my answers are going to be drastically different from what they were last time.
And there's something comforting in that.
x

Sometimes I don't know if I'm doing the right thing...

...and this is one of those times.

I've been in contact with this guy who is has written, and will direct and star in, a low-budget film. He advertised for amateur actors/actresses which is why I got in touch. And part of the whole low-budget thing means not doing anything through agencies, which is great in that it gives me a chance without an agent, but it also means we know nothing about each other.

Now, I've known from the start that this film will involve a sex scene, and initially I waved it off because I was really interested in the project and, you know, sometimes as an actor you have to do that and that's the end of it! The problem is, of course, that he wants to know before the auditions what the applicants look like, including what they will look like in that scene. i.e., what you look like naked. And fair enough - he knows what he's looking for and he doesn't want to invite people to audition if they're going to turn up and not look right. That's his prerogative as a director.

BUT. I'm just not entirely comfortable with this. If I had no doubts about the legitimacy of him and this project, I wouldn't be worried - but I do, so I am. It turned out, when I pushed with questions, that when he said there would be a sex scene he meant that we as actors would literally have sex, at which point I was in a way quite relieved because it made the decision easy: I'm not prepared to do that, so I'm not interested. Dilemma about whether or not to send him the photos he's asking for: over. But he ended up backing down, saying it could just be acted, and I could keep my underwear on if I wanted under the sheets, and all you'd see would be side shots, back shots and possibly (=probably) my chest. Now see, that's the kind of nudity that frankly every actor is probably going to encounter at some point anyway, so if that's all there is to it, then maybe I don't mind. He was very keen for me not to drop out, to get me in for an audition anyway, because I've made it clear that love for acting is my only motivator and he likes that. And I'm thinking that maybe I would go for a smaller part instead if I was offered one.

In the end, I sent 2 photos which are in no way 'sexy' (lol), but put it this way, he was wanting to make sure that I don't have some crazy skin disease/am not covered in scars (you have no idea how much I lol'd inside at that), and people see that much of my body every time I go to the beach in a bikini anyway. I did make sure that my head/face was not in them, juuuust in case - I wanted to make sure they were just photos of a body, rather than identifiable photos of me, if they're going anywhere via e-mail.

But the fact remains that his attitude doesn't really make me feel comfortable, and I know literally nothing about him and have no-one's word but his that he is who he says. His e-mail address doesn't even have the company name or his surname in, for fuck's sake, and he doesn't have a website either. He asked for some references for the plays I've been in, and I asked for some from him, which he said he'll provide after the auditions. Hmm. Maybe I'm worrying over nothing, but I can't shake the impressions of "I bet you're loving this, getting all these girls to send you photos of themselves", know what I mean?

Gah. I just don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Because if there's one thing I learnt from Russia, it's to get the hell out the first bad feeling you get. And I do have a bad feeling about this, but I don't know if it's worth persisting a bit further at least to find out more. I just. don't. know.

Madness never seems like madness to the mad

I've just been reading a really fascinating article on schizophrenic hallucinations by Yvonne Nahat. This is not something I have any personal experience with, but her writing is fantastic and it just draws you right in. There was a particular paragraph on madness that I got so excited about I had to tweet immediately! (OK, that doesn't take much. But STILL.) Because I can't say I know about schizophrenia, but I sure know a thing or two about madness, and it is so incredibly difficult to express. I think she hits the nail right on the head:

Would anyone have said to me "Yvonne you are ill you must see a doctor," I would have thought the person talking to me has gone mad and does not realize the magnitude of what is going on here! Madness never seems like madness to the mad. It is an unshakeable reality or a reality that shakes everything, things become rearranged, they reach a new order or constellation. The music from the Hurricane film is on: "Nobody knows what trouble I've seen.......he had to fight developing his natural right....a freedom bigger than life a freedom with many dimensions........I am the inescapable, the unintelligible, the unnegotiable, the unchallenged.....I AM TIME.... I hold no prejudice......you can't conceal me....cover me run from me ......I AM TIME.....many have wasted me but now you're facing me.......I AM TIME .......I can't even explain the pain.....imagine if your life were like a hurricane."

I think that should be put into acting textbooks, for those who've never personally ventured outside sanity trying to understand a character who frequently does. Maybe it's just me who finds that so eloquent, because I already know exactly what she's talking about; maybe somebody to whom that is all new would make no sense of it at all. But reading that felt like sitting down after 3 hours on your feet doing something stressful which you've now finished. Just... Aaaaaaaaaaah. :)

For the full article: http://www.archetypewriting.com/articles/psychology/Hallucinations.htm

(Not) Busy ... ?

I'm a bit confused by the last month or so. 3 weeks since I left Russia, and while I certainly have been much less stressed, I don't seem to have been less busy. I suppose it doesn't help that in the couple of weeks before I left Moscow I was doing practically nothing, having quit my job, and was worrying that my time at home was going to turn into one of those long drags of never-ending nothingness somehow filled with time killing. There's nothing worse than realising the week has ended and you've done nothing, and you think, what the hell have I been doing for 7 days?! (Well, ok, there are worse things, but within the topic of passing time and its relation to sanity, it's definitely right down there.)

So here's a breakdown of where the last 3 weeks have gone:

Week 1 - Holland. Lovely little holiday visiting my sister en famille, although it was exhausting after a very, very long journey back from Moscow. (38 hours without sleep is bad enough if you're doing nothing, let alone being busy the whole time.)

Week 2 - Had a cold for a few days, which was predictable, actually I'm surprised it took my body that long to get ill! And then I had to learn the 40-page, over-2-hour tour script for the tourguiding company I've joined and will be working for soon. It's a mammoth task, take it from me. I was, or so I thought, being tested on it, so it was quite stressful as well as time-consuming.

Week 3 - Masters interview. Again, took some preparation, mainly trying to remember how to speak French. In the end it went ok, and I should hear within a couple of weeks, but it certainly didn't allow me to just kick back and take a break! And now I have the *actual* test on the tour material this coming Monday, so this weekend isn't a big kick-back either. Sadface :(

I've been keeping a log of pretty much everything I do during the day, and then categorising it with the help of my favourite set of highlighters (stationery love :') ), and it seems that I have actually been mostly doing fun things. There have been educational, productive/constructive, necessary, and therapeutic things, but mostly just "fun". And in fairness, my stress levels have been much lower than you would expect them to be given the job and Masters stuff. But I still just feel like I'm doing nothing! Which I intensely dislike. Need to work out how to move forward from this. Suggestions on postcards. x

The Slow Fade

This keeps coming up, time and time and time again.

Friendships slipping away, closeness getting looser and looser until it's not there any more, shared experiences suddenly not appearing to mean anything.

I have never found a way of dealing with the pain of friendships slowly fading, and I certainly haven't found a way of dealing with what's upsetting me right now, which is the failure of what I thought was a solid bond. And it failed because, well, of me. Not entirely, but chiefly. I won't name any names here but a friend who I hold very dear I think saw the bad side of me, the me I am when I'm upset or anxious or just being a bit stupid, and it went on for a while so that I think it came across as 'the real me'. She was supposedly getting to know the real me, except I wasn't me. And nothing has gone wrong, exactly, which makes it worse - there's nothing I said or did which in itself I can apologise for. I just know that I wasn't great company, that I was quite selfish about some things, and now when we talk it's awkward.

I cannot express how much that hurts. I know I shouldn't worry, but I do, because it's fucking miserable.

Oh lordy lordy

Hello blogosphere!

I am still alive, I've been in Holland since Saturday. I'll blog about it soon. Currently in Paddington station, stealing Starbucks' wifi (I know, they're evil, I know I know, I'll try and make up for my patronage by donating the cost of a latte to some worthy charity), waiting for my parents. I very carefully booked a Eurostar back that would allow me to travel outside the rush hour; wanted to travel with my parents but had to book the tickets very quickly before they sold out and didn't have time to ask which train they were on. Turns out they were on an afternoon train, should've known they weren't thinking about the rush hour and were more worried about not having to get up early! Which failed because they got up to see me on the tram outside the hotel at 7:50 this morning....

So anyway, here I am, got a spare minute to blog, thought I'd drop in for a howdy. Also, can I just say, St Pancras is FUCKING COLD and their wifi is so slow it's almost counterproductive. Sorry, had to express that outrage to someone.

I was supposed to be learning stuff on the train, which I didn't, but I may have accidentally plotted a novel. Whoops. Good though?

Apologies for randomness, humour me for now.

x

Москва, прощай! (don't worry this post isn't in Russian lol)

Yo dudes

First off, I just want to thank everyone who's replied to my last coupla posts, reassuring me that there are people reading. It's not just the fact that you're there, but the fact that the reason you're there is you feel like you get something out of reading this blog, that really touches me :') If I start posting more often, as I hope to, I can't guarantee that every post will be deep or meaningful or even thoughtful, but those ones will inevitably roll around too!

Today is my last day in Moscow, how mad is that... I've been whinging lately about how my stomach has been feeling weird and it's not helping me in my efforts to eat enough and stop losing weight, and going back to England should remove a lot of the stress that causes that. Yet today, and the irony of this is so beautiful, my stomach has been feeling so heavy and bloated that I haven't been able to eat at all BECAUSE I'M SO EXCITED about going home tonight. Oh, lol.

Went to the Bulgakov museum last night, will make a separate post with some photos, and tonight's programme looks something like this: go to English Games at 7. Perform our version of The Importance of Being Earnest at 8ish. After party with champagne etc. Transfer to a pub nearby and smoothly transition the after party into my leaving party; stay there drinking and making merry until 10 minutes before the metro closes and everybody suddenly realises they won't be able to get home if they don't leave right now. Come back, grab a coupla hours' sleep (if possible..), wake up at 3:15 (if possible..), wake up and say good-bye to flatmate - they're idea, not mine! - get in taxi, go to airport, sit watching downloaded Dr Who until the flight, go home. Bish bash bosh. Can't wait!

A Torrent of Torrents

OK, so I've recently - within the last few days - worked out how to use a bit torrent client. More or less. Still have issues with the programme not downloading, but they're get-roundable (is that a word?).

Omg, MediaGet, where have you been all my life??

Currently downloading Dr Who season 5, already have several albums including some that I lost when my computer and then iPod crashed...if only it were a bit more reliable, it would probably become a strong contender for Best Thing in the World, Ever.

In other news, tomorrow is my last day in Moscow. Can you believe that? I can't. Well, I kind of can, I've definitely got my head around the fact that I won't be here on Thursday. But not being in Moscow is one thing, actually being in England is another! Proper excited though.

Spring, here I come!

Sleepless

Goodness me. I woke up at around 2:30am, after 4 hours' sleep or so, and haven't been able to get back to sleep since. I was feeling atrocious, largely because of having not eaten enough yesterday which I was aware of at the time but my stomach was refusing to accept food for most of the day (I'd just feel really full almost to the point of nausea if I tried to eat anything). This is so typical for when I'm not eating enough; my stomach seems to get out of the habit of digesting stuff, but the rest of my body still makes its usual demands!

I got up, had a cup of tea and a plain piece of toast to settle my stomach, which was reasonably successful. Went back to bed, tried to sleep, listened to like 3 podcasts including a relaxation one, none of which worked. Had some more toast, this time with stuff on, went back to bed. Nothing. At like 5:30 I ended up skyping Michelle who happened to be online, having tried and failed to arrange a time lol.

I think I had some more toast after that (well, I definitely did, but not sure exactly when), and tried to go back to sleep because I had to get up at 9:30 latest for a 10am lesson at my flat. I vaguely drifted off some time between 8 and 9, but didn't really sleep, and let me tell you it was a task getting myself out of bed when the alarm went off! Like a gift from the heavens, my student phoned at 9:45 saying she couldn't come and apologising; she'd already paid for the lesson but said it would be more awkward trying to arrange a time to come and get the money back off me, and given that she was only calling 15 minutes before the lesson, probably wouldn't have been cricket to come and demand a refund anyway.

Thought I would go back to sleep, but I haven't. Finished watching an episode of Sherlock from season 1 dubbed remarkably well into Russian (Russian dubbing is frequently crap, lol), and had some pasta. Weird breakfast, I know, but I'm trying to be careful, and given that my stomach is both feeling hungry AND accepting food, I'm trying to make the most of it to avoid a repeat tonight!

God I love being underweight.

ps Does anyone know how to add multiple tags? Every time I try to put a comma or a semicolon in, Blogger assumes I want to put in all the previous tags I've used and just inserts them because it thinks it's being helpful. Driving me slightly up the wall.

Anybody there?

Been reading other people's blogs, and keep realising that I've been neglecting my own for quite a long time! Well, I never have posted very regularly. I suppose since I have so few readers I never feel like it's worth it - I have a journal for writing for myself, if the blog is for other people and there aren't any other people then...what's the point, you know? But at the same time, nobody's going to start reading a blog that's never updated...so idk, we'll see where this goes. Maybe I'll start posting more often, maybe I'll still mainly to YT updates, maybe I'll find a nice balance of the two.

I guess the reason I feel I should be blogging is because, even if nobody reads it, the fact is that someone *might*, and that makes me in some way accountable. Like, if I put it out there that I'm using behaviours, for example, the mere fact that it's on the interwebz means I'm not stuck in my own shell not answering to anyone and not having to be honest with anyone else about what's going on. I suppose it would help if I knew for certain that it would get read, but even if it doesn't, it's still there in clear writing, and that means I can't ignore it.

Some accountability would probably be helpful right now. I tried joining MentorCONNECT but was distinctly underwhelmed, I might make a YT video on it because I'm interested to see if any of my viewers have had a similar experience, or a more positive one, and just generally what you guys think. I actually brought the book Beating Ana, written by the founder of MentorCONNECT and the reason I went on the site at all, with me after Christmas. But I haven't even looked at it. I have read some of another recovery book I downloaded onto my Kindle app, but not as much as I should.

Thing is, I'm not exactly relapsing...but I'm certainly not recovering. Not by miles. I suppose I'm trying to, but really, that's only my vague attitude - I'm not putting it into practice. And I need to DO something about it. And I don't think I could do that alone.

So, if you're there, let me know. Let's talk. Let's do this blogging shit!

Celebrating "Might Have Been's"

I know it sounds a bit controversial, because isn't the normal line to forget all the coulda shoulda woulda, to let go of what might have been and embrace what is?

I fully agree with the principle - but actually, I think sometimes, it's a Good Thing to remember what could have, but hasn't, happened. Because the idea of forgetting the might have been's is about letting go of opportunities we didn't seize, and good experiences we missed. But let's remember that we also manage to make decisions which purposely *avoid* certain circumstances - and yet when we do successfully avoid them, we don't celebrate it as a success. Bad situation avoided, everything's fine, move on. And yet it's not equal, is it?

When something terrible happens, we quite rightly lament how we (whoever that means) failed to prevent it: we could have done this, we should have thought of that. But when we actually do what we "could have done", when we think of what we "should have thought of" - when we do all those things which, if we hadn't done, we'd be kicking ourselves about afterwards - we don't congratulate ourselves. Intensity of regret is always correlated to the gravity of the tragedy you failed to prevent, whereas celebration of tragedy aversion never is.

My main example here is going to be about suicide attempts, which is an extreme but because condensed version of my general point. When somebody embarks upon a suicide attempt, but stops in the process, all anybody says afterwards is "you shouldn't have done that", "you've behaved unacceptably", etc - not in those words, maybe, but that's often the gist. Yet there are two actions involved there: starting, and stopping. If you stop and turn back during a suicide attempt, you've probably just saved a life, because if you hadn't stopped, you probably would have killed yourself. OK, if you hadn't stopped at that precise moment maybe you would still have survived somehow, but you can't ever be sure. So why don't people throw a freakin party in honour of the fact that this person did not complete suicide?

This is the kind of "might have been's" that I encourage everyone to celebrate. A lot of the time when battling with demons, we find ourselves in situations of real danger and often it's down to us to stay safe. But we don't congratulate ourselves when we manage to get out of a sticky spot, or do the right thing. To make up an example from ED recovery: in the past, you've fainted from not eating breakfast or lunch. Today, you have eaten breakfast and lunch, and you haven't fainted. No, it's not a definite that if you hadn't had those meals, you would have fainted - but the fact is that you did eat them, and you haven't fainted. If for some reason today you had restricted, and collapsed, afterwards you would have been berating yourself for not having those meals - if I'd only had them, everything would be fine. Well hello, you did have them! And that's why everything is fine! You avoided a crisis!

That's why every single achievement is worth celebrating in recovery, because you never know what awful things you're avoiding each time you make the right decision. Don't just accept that you did what you were supposed to and carry on - celebrate everything that goes right, because it could so easily have gone wrong.