Posts Tagged ‘christmas’

In the absence of addresses…

Friday, December 24th, 2010

This is a virtual Christmas card. You have to imagine some glitter and a festive picture, because my flu addled brain is too fuzzy to create them.

I realised, when I was writing my real cards, that some of the people who have meant the most to me this year were being missed out.


Whilst I’ve been fortunate enough to have met some of my fellow bloggers and tweeters this year, there are still a lot of people out there that I now feel very connected to, and who have helped me indescribably in the past year….

And so, in the absence of postal addresses, I’d like to a wish you a very very happy Christmas here.

I know that, for some people, Christmas can be tricky. I remember, only too well, the loneliness and anxiety and disconnection that has characterised my Christmases for many many years – but this year, despite the past few months, has been infinitely better; and it has a huge amount to do with the support and learning that has gone on over here.

It has sent ripples through my world, and given me the courage to do things I could never have dreamed of.

I’m taking that courage into the New Year with me.

Thank you and all the very best for 2011.


The Echo

Wednesday, December 30th, 2009

In a horrible echo of how things used to be, I have spent the afternoon trawling the shops, only to return home, empty handed, because what I am looking for can’t be found on a supermarket shelf.

I am finding Christmas quite hard.

In the long unstructured gaps, when people are together or spending time with their other halves, the years that I spent rejecting companionship have come full circle; and, whilst I’m slowly getting back in touch with the world, the gaping hole that the eating disorder has left behind has been highlighted by the holiday season.

People – Not Presents

Sunday, December 27th, 2009

Last night, as I surveyed the wrapping paper wreckage of Christmas and the bag of goodies waiting to be packed into the car, I realised that it was the people – and not just the presents – that I would be taking back with me.

And when I got home, after the excitement had died down and the evening had settled into a cinnamon infused glow; I noticed that I was, indeed, unpacking the people – along with the presents –

Because each carefully chosen gift is a constant reminder of someone’s care; and, every item, however big or small, is imbued with the person that gave it and the relationship behind it.

And so, every time I slip my fingers into my new gloves, the warmth will be doubled by the thought that they were chosen for me; and, as I touch the soft leather of my new bag, the love that selected it will feel equally tender.

The scent of my new soap will be automatically associated with a face and a person; and, when I’m using my new salt mill, it will not just be the fact that I can actually grind salt that makes me smile –

It will be the continuous reminders of other people that were wrapped up along with my presents.

New Year, New You?

Monday, December 21st, 2009

I am not great with new years.

I tend to find the ending, daunting; and the expectations, a little too much to take.

I get a little scared that I will wake up, on the first of January, to a completely alien landscape –

Or that it will be completely the same.

For a few years, I worried that I wouldn’t wake up at all.

I’ve clearly brought into the ‘new year new you’ hype and the inevitable annual apocalypse; so, this year, I’m getting prepared, and I’m trying to enter 2010 on a more positive footing –

It is an opportunity, and not an ending.


Sunday, December 20th, 2009

If I hadn’t ignored my head then I wouldn’t have seen the snow, shimmering and sparkling in the early morning sunlight.

And if I had, as it commanded, stuck to the weekly regime and gone swimming; then I would have missed being the first to walk through the unmarked snowfall, spraying glitter in my wake and leaving a dance of footprints behind me.

If I had given in to the demand to justify and earn every mouthful, then I would have been lapping up and down an empty pool while the sun was working its magic over the snowswept fields; and, against the diamond white backdrop, the colours and shadows became breathtaking.

And, if I had listened to my often overpowering head – rather than my often overpowered heart; then I might not have noticed how beautiful the world can be, and how much fun there is in the smallest pleasures –

Like a twirling whirling flake of snow.

Handmade Cards

Friday, December 18th, 2009

One Christmas in hospital, handmade cards were my salvation.

With time on my hands and a head that wouldn’t behave, having a clear focus was a godsend.

After months of food and failure and going round in circles, a tangible product was just what the doctor had ordered; and, being able to give something – rather than always being on the receiving end – was a pleasant change.

Feeling all alone at Christmas

Friday, December 11th, 2009

Because everyone’s blissfully happy and they’re all having so much fun; depression feels worst at Christmas, heightened and highlighted by the contrast.

And because everyone’s partying hard and booked up for months in advance; loneliness is heavy, shot through with the pain of being left out and accompanied by a barrage of self-criticism.

And when your eating disorder’s turns the Christmas roast into a new form of torture while everyone’s merrily tucking into mince pies or relishing the last bacon clad sausage; then the separation between you – and them – can feel unbridgeable.

Arguing over mince pies

Tuesday, December 8th, 2009

This is what I remember when a cut price box of Chocolate goodies feels too good a bargain to miss; or the buy one get seven free offers would save me money in the wrong run, because I’m just going to end up succumbing to the temptation –


What I am really paying for is a particularly violent binge, after which (and if I’m still standing) I will feel like death – for the sake of a bargain.

An eating disorder at Christmas…

Monday, December 7th, 2009

Christmas was a bit of a double whammy for my eating disorder.

The bulimia was in seventh heaven (with a touch of hell); the anorexia was on a permanent state of alert; and I was bouncing between the two.

Keeping Calm at Christmas

Sunday, December 6th, 2009

There are three weeks to Christmas and I can already feel the panic, surging.

The whole world has gone mad.

Supermarket shelves stocked sky high with temptation, full of aggressive trolley-pushers swarming to unmissable bargains, leading to Christmas tables laden with food and cupboards, bursting at the seams –


This is not what Christmas is about.