A journey of finding peace in hospital.
Alone in my room, I look at my list of things to do each day. I tick off the things I have done, fill in my food diary, and decide study and my training diary can wait until tomorrow when I am not so tired. Curling up in bed, I am lonely, but that's okay. I am in the process of learning to feel safe in my own company; to love myself through all the struggles I have, and to not fight back against the waves of emotion that come and go. Yes I am living in a psychiatric hospital, but that is okay. I am where I need to be to feel safe enough to explore where I am at in life. I have the support and tools available to make the difficult task of completely opening myself up and facing my true self possible. I sit with my loneliness, recognising that what I am doing is hard, and that although the pattern I had gotten into of denying my feelings seemed easier in the short term, over time the denial will lead me away from who I am.
My experience of psychiatric medication.
The healing power of movement.
I feel the bay air across my body and the thud of my feet on the footpath. The way my breath naturally reaches a rhythmic equilibrium calms me. But the most amazing thing I have found about being in motion, is the way my mind is able to become more empty than I can ever remember it being in my entire life.
A day in the life of binge eating disorder.
But I know. I know that buying that popcorn and drink won't end there. I know they will spark cravings for other sweet and salty things as I search for the feel good rush that comes with food. For the past few months now food has been my comfort, the one constant that I can rely on to fill the void of not knowing who I am, what I want, or why I am even still on this earth.