Stepping back through time - Wordless Wednesday

Linking up with My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday 

 

Body Love

If the 'fashion world' is to be believed, plus size starts at size 12-14. I call fucking bullshit! How on earth are we supposed to portray to our children that size isn't everything, when a world that is so dominant to a teenager is telling them that they are 'overweight' at a size 12-14.  There is so much outrage...and yet nothing is done.  

When will it be that a woman is recognised for her brain, her voice, her passion and not the size of her bra, shirt and short short skirt?
 

Loving my body is something that I have always struggled with and continue to struggle with.  It doesn't matter what size I am...I hate it.  I stand in front of the mirror, poking and proding, picking out things that I do not like.  I have always felt a strong disconnection between my body and my mind. My mind is strong, my body is weak. 
 

This isn't about hate though, this is about love.  I don't hate my entire body, I don't know if that is entirely possible. Even at my lowest of lows, when poked and prodded I could eventually come up with something that I liked.  As I have gotten older, I have realised the strenght that my body has. The things that I have put it through and it's come through the other side virtually unscathed.  Every weekend I thank my liver for being a fucking trooper.  That bastard puts up with a bashing!
 

I have lived through OD's that if left untreated could have done severe damage, drank things that were intended for cleaning purposes only and still my body is reasonably ok. I have reflux that hurts like a bitch when I forget my meds but other than that, it's doing ok.  I had someone lace my drink with turps and yet all I felt was a couple of cramps. Like I said my body has copped a hiding.  It still does the stuff I want it to do! It might put up a hell of a protest but we get there in the end.
 

I have cut it, burnt it and scratched at it.  I have tried to destroy my body in any way I could. Still it's here, doing the shit it's supposed to do.  It might not look the way that I want it to look. Does anyones?
 

I birthed a mother fucking baby out of my body.  I felt like a beach ball with legs, and still my body did everything that it needed to do.  It created this little Devil Spawn. It was amazing and scary all at the same time but my body did it.
 

Do you love your body? Has it kept you in awe at the amazing things it can do?
 

Link up for #RCThursdays below.  This is the last one for the year so lets go out with a bang :)

Random Post

I decided to have a bit of fun and went searching for random post ideas and stumbled across this site.  There was pages, upon pages of post ideas. This one however caught my eye and I decided to give it a go :)
 

Wearing your ear buds place your MP3 player on "Shuffle." As each song comes up, relate what it means to you or what it evokes in you in terms of emotions and/or memories.
 

I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace:  This song takes me straight back to my dark bedroom when I was teen. Music blaring in my earphones.  Jogging on the spot for the biscuit that I dared to eat.  In front of a mirror, so I could see everything that I hated.
 

She's So High - Tal Bachman: I love this song. It always makes me sing out loud, even though I can't sing to save myself.  It makes me feel empowered.
 

Bootylicious - Destiny's Child: What woman doesn't need a pick me up when they are feeling shitty. This is one of my songs I play when I'm getting ready to go out when I really don't want to go anywhere.
 

Sugar, We're Goin Down - Fall Out Boy: For years I had a crappy copy of this song and it cut off just as it was getting into the good beat. I used to blast it when I needed something quick and in my face. I've got a decent copy now and it's still one of my favourite songs.
 

What Would You Do - City High: This was on my first compilation cd.  It was the only decent song on that compilation cd. I played the hell out of it. 
 

Feelin' Way Too Damn Good - Nickelback: I love Nickelback. I am not afraid to say it. This isn't one of my favourite songs but it's up there.  It pretty much sums up my life. I hate getting too happy about anything because it will no doubt come crashing down around me as soon as I do.
 

Without Me - Eminem: This song made me fall in love with Eminem. I managed to talk my parents into buying the album. You know because it was full of adult content and I was 14 at the time. They of course bought it without checking what the hell it was about. Win for the 14 year old.
 

Firework - Katy Perry: This song will forever be imprinted in my mind to make my entire body hurt. Why? Because it was one of the tracks in Pump.  Pump that made it hard to even sit on the toilet. You know because you did so many squats that your thighs are on fire just sitting on the couch! Yeh that kind of Pump.
 

True Love - P!nk: This song kind of describes Devil Papa and I perfectly. We know all the right buttons to push. We can fight like animals but we love each other so fiercely. 
 

Numb - Linkin Park: When I was a teen I was always on forums for self harm.  When this song came out, the forums where all a flutter because the film clip included self harm.  Of course the song was disected every which way but loose.  I watched the film clip over and over again.
 

What's your favourite song? Does it have a special meaning to you? Or do you like it just because it makes me you jump around the room?

Death by sleep deprivation

DS has been sleeping like an absolute shit head for the last seems like forever few months.  Most nights I wonder if he is trying to kill me by sleep deprivation.

Some places have been known to use sleep deprivation as a method of torture.  Mothers everywhere endure it all the time. We're told to take a cup of cement and suck it up.  We have to go about our day pretending that we are functioning human beings.  

Before DS I couldn't sleep for 5 days.  5 days of utter hell. 5 days of sandpaper eyes.  5 days of snapping psyche. 5 days of writing.  The only relief was a dr who finally believed me when I said I wasn't a drug chaser, I was just tired and couldn't sleep.  It had taken me 3 nights of sitting at ED, only to be told you are a drug addict, go away, to get to that point. I was delirious and probably looked like I was high as a kite.  

I can sometimes find myself returning to that state when we are surviving on 6 hours of broken sleep.  My psyche seems so much more fragile now.  The smallest thing makes me snap.  I can feel myself spiralling. I can feel myself wanting to run away.

DP told me on the weekend that I just need to calm the fuck down.  He doesn't have a clue what the shit I put up with on a regular basis is. He sees a snap shot.  His idea of 'helping' is playing with Dyllan while I do every-fucking-thing else.  I can't even have a shower on my own, ever.  DP complains that I don't let him go to the toilet by himself while we are at his place.  After I death stare him into the ground I utter 4 simple words. Welcome. To. My. World.

We are seeing a child health nurse who I am hoping will help us with the sleep dodging.  I'm willing to try anything at this stage.  Absolutely anything.

 

Neigh

I'm linking up tonight with Edenland for her newest Saturday adventure: Fresh Horses Brigade. This week it's all about Handwriting.  

All through school my weekly reports used to read 'Tegan would do better if her handwriting was neater.' I would have to practice perfect cursive and I hated it.  Ironically I now still use cursive when I write.  The 'f' is my favourite letter to write in cursive, I love how it just flows into the word.

Here is what my my handwriting looks like:

So show some linky love, grab this Meme and head over to Edenland and join in the fun.

Scars remind me that the past is real

Image from here

It's no secret that I have a history of self harm...I have evidence from my wrists to my shoulders.

I'm not ashamed of my scars....but I'm not proud of them either...contrary to popular belief.

Most of them I can tell you a brief story of how it got there...the superficial story anyway.

I often forget that they are actually there...I've lived with scars for so long that they are just part of me...much like a birthmark or freckle would be for someone else.  It always throws me off when people ask me what happened.  My stock standard answer is "It's a long story" aka mind your own fucking business.  Most of the time that works....others are just too nosy and I end up walking away.  

If I do tell you what happened...don't think that I will do any harm to you...that's why it's called SELF harm.  I have no intention on physically hurting anyone else except myself.

Self harm can be all consuming and is much like an addiction.  Before you know it, you are doing so much damage to yourself in one session that it repulses most people...you hardly blink an eye.

Self harm is not an attention seeking venture.  It's a way to make the inner turmoil into something physical. Physical problems are much easier to deal with.

If you or someone you know has the urge to self harm please call someone.  It can be a family member or a friend.  Alternatively if you don't feel comfortable talking to someone close to you, there are numerous help lines to call.

Lifeline: 13 11 14

Victoria Suicide Helpline: 1300 651 251

Kids Helpline: 1800 55 1800 (these guys were a huge amount of help to me as a teenager)

You can also call your local hospital and ask about a crisis line.

If you are in immediate danger please call 000 or get yourself or the person who is threatening self harm to your nearest Emergency Department.

Looking back....

Lately I have been thinking about how far I have come and all that other crapola, thinking about what used to be.  Of what would have been.

Would things have changed on their own if I hadn't been forced to suck it up?  Or would I still be floundering in nothingness, spending my money on booze and not much else?  Today I wouldn't care.  The half bottle of vodka sitting on my bench is looking mighty fine to me right now.  The thing stopping me is that I'd probably fall asleep on the couch after one drink.  Oh yeh I'm a party animal today.

In my thinking about the past I decided to peruse my old livejournal (all the cool kids had one back when I was a teenager oh yeh) and see what was going on over there.  Phew what a crazy fest that was. It was full of the normal teenage angsty stuff and some surprisingly deep stuff too.    

Well after having my 50th car thrown at me as well as a bowl of chips looks like that vodka is gonna win today after all.

Tainted

Does having a mental illness cloud your judgement forever? Or does it just cloud people's judgement of you forever? Does it effect the way that they see your decision making skills? Is every decision you make tainted?

'Everyone' (whoever that is) says that 'aren't your mental illness', 'it doesn't define who you are' but it's hard when every decision you make they wonder if its the 'illness' thinking or if it's you.  Nothing you ever do will be free from that thought.  So while you spend years in therapy learning to distinguish the difference between you and your diagnosis, 'everyone' else still can't see the difference.

Some days I ask what the point in all that work is, if it's not going to change anything? If every time you feel sad, angry, hurt then it must be the 'illness' talking.  Everything is blown out of proportion or lack of.  Your reactions aren't simple reactions, they must be the 'illness' talking.  Your every reaction is a overreaction. You're just being 'crazy'

My thoughts have always been like this....it just took physical actions to bring them to the fore front.  Now everyone is always on the lookout for 'signs' that aren't there.

Food for Thought

Food and I have always had a very much love/hate relationship.  It's not easy to say which aspect of the love/hate is more frequented.

My high school days were spent either eating too much or not nearly enough.  From the age of 14 I refused to eat at school.  I didn't eat breakfast either so was usually ravenous by the time I got home from school.  I had an 'agreement' with my doctor that I would eat one meal a day...this one meal was dinner.  This one meal caused a lot of friction.

Grade 12 I dropped 20 kilos in 2.5 months by exercising for hours at a time and barely eating.  My one meal of choice, that I would eat at 430 every day was ham and cheese toasted sandwiches.  Eaten before exercising of course.  Most of my exercise was done in the privacy of my bedroom.  I would jog on the spot for up to 2 hours every night.

A lot of these behaviours still penetrate my everyday life now.  I still have disordered eating.  I go from eating barely anything to eating a 20 pack of freddos in one sitting.  When things get stressful I regress back to old habits.  Food and I very much still have a love/hate relationship.  I hate it and it seems to love me so much that it sticks to me like glue.

Moving In

Major Man and I have had many discussions - many while drunk about the prospect of moving in together.  I know shock horror we have a child and don't live together.....oh wait we live in the 21st century.

There have been lots of things to consider and we really haven't gotten any closer to a decision.  It's hard and I really don't want to fuck things up.  We have it pretty good and I don't want it to go to shit.

There are days when I would love for him to come home to us, especially when Mini Man has been a little terror and I want to just lock myself in my room.  Then there are days when I am glad that the only person I have to answer to are a 21 month old.  I don't have to answer the 'You bought how many pairs of shoes" question.  I'm also not the best 'house wife' and thats not going to change anytime soon and don't want to feel pressured to conform (hello former rebel).

We've weighed up the financial side and we just don't know if we would be able to afford living together.  Its disgusting really.  If I went to work and put Dyllan in daycare more often which Major Man doesn't want then we would get less money again. 

We are also divided on where to move to.  Major Man wants to live in the bush but I would go insane(er) if I lived in the middle of nowhere.  Hello childhood memories....gag.  I want to live in town but would be willing to compromise for a little out of town...as long as it was walking distance to stuff. 

So the long and short of it is that we are no closer to living together anytime soon and we are both shit scared of making that first leap step