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The optimistic Anorexic

I know I have been going on and on about my Anorexia lately but what else can I do but pour out all my stress in my head  out and down onto paper ( well a post) I have started eating again and yes, the scales have gone up by 2 kilos. I do feel anxious and think the scales are going to go up and up and up and up – you get the picture. Since eating food again I have finally got my strength back. 

I have the energy to exercise again which means I can eat stuff I enjoy and fingers crossed not put on weight. I still am holding back with portions etc.. but I feel alive again.

 Anorexia had started to take all my confidence again and I didn’t think I could work in the volunteer sector any more. I had started to become paranoid and my thoughts came out in jumbled sentences.

 I was forgetting how to communicate. I felt like a failure.

But, the silver lining is I keep on fighting. I didn’t resort to old coping mechanisms such as  using coffee, chewing gum, pepsi max and other vices to kill my appetite. If I had chosen to go down that route then I might as well have built myself a coffin. The truth I am stronger than my illness. I’ve accomplished so much in four years. I have a lot of livin to do and being skeletal is not a part of that journey.

Of course, I want to be lean and toned. I want to be healthy. I don’t know what has happened but there has been a shift in my mind set. 

I wish I could tell you how I have done it. I suppose seeing what life is like on the other side of a despondent hell has helped me a lot. My family has helped me. I’m stubborn and wilful but I guess that has been  my anchor.  

My life raft. These tr

aits are  being used for a more positive reason.

I read a lot of posts where people with mental health issues are suffering so much. They don’t have the support and help they need. Here is me with an almost perfect little family, my health- I am not in a wheelchair or have problems so severe I can’t keep healthy and fit. I am not some idiot. I am articulate and smart. I am ambitious and a go-getter. This is my true nature.

 Not some vile, putrid anorexic that cowardly hides behind a mask . I got my medication changed and I do feel better. It may just be a placebo but it works for me. It has helped get me back on equal footing with the world.

I’m feeling optimistic again.  I am going places and with one blow the candle goes out and I can turn the volume down on those voices- trying to lure me like Odysseus’ sirens. I’m navigating my way around the rocky depths of Scylla’s cave.  I’m on my way home- to reconnect with my Penelope- my soul, my pure self. My most loyal self. The self  who has never let me down.


HUMOUR ME

If you don’t suffer from a sense of humour may I suggest this post may offend you.

I bet you didn’t know that Socrates suffered from Agoraphobia ( fear of open places) .

Rate her or hate her. The term narcissism came about because of Kim kardashian

Bet you didn’t know that Nostradamus made sure he got the credit for predicting his own death on Easter Sunday. 

How? He committed suicide that very day. 

 Need a genie The next best thing to a genie? Find a random bipolar person – make sure you rub heads – turn around anti- clock wise; three and a half times and any wish of yours will come true.

Come on , what bullshit Daisy? 

Okay here is a heads up? It is bullshit .

This only works if you do the same routine with schizophrenics 

Want to trace your mental health ancestry -it’s a common fact that all people with mental illness descended from gipsies and witches in a forest just outside of Bulgaria. 

We all know that people with mental health issues are not the same. Illness can happen to a diverse range of people. The most important part of this fact is they are all left handed -I should know. 

We all know that people with mental health issues are so consumed with themselves and can’t see past their own nose. This is why they mostly have goldfish for pets.

Who the hell started this myth?

I mean let’s get real here, us mentally ill people also have crabs, octopus and Wildebeests as pets. 

Here’s a secret- us mentally unwell folks recognise our own kind with a secret handshake  and talk to each other in an ancient language ( borrowed and  used in the ‘minion’ films) so no one can understand us.

Actually that is bullshit again,

The truth is we all have special decode-fier rings that can translate the language of green space aliens – FACT!

New pub trivia knowledge for  you,

There is only one support group that all Swiss people will attend for Depression. Only one. 

If you want extra kudos and bonus points  

Did you know that in the  Korean  language there is no word that can be translated as ‘paranoia ?  

You should get a free round with that one. 

Heard of Xeno ? another Greek philosopher even older than Socrates.

Well, he was an actual Xenophobic – he was!  I studied Greek myth at university.

Who likes a ‘few’ drinks to calm themselves every night and possibly in the morning too? Well, don’t worry ,back in the middle ages= drinking copious amounts of alcohol was seen a prestige hobby like hunting and not an illness. 

Did you know you have more success getting a psychiatrist to engage in conversation  if you disguise yourself as an Orange. Why? He thinks he is more likely to get all the juice from you . 

FACT NUMBER 101 I hate waiting.

The End…



Mind tricks

“I feel as if I were a piece in a game of chess, when my opponent says of it: That piece cannot be moved.”  Soren Kierkegaard   #FollowGreatFootsteps

WHY I’V CHOSEN THIS QUOTE

Not an especially inspiring quote  but it does reflect  my mood and the frustration I am feeling at the moment.

There are plenty of us  living with all sort of illnesses and I just like many of you , try to cope with living with them in the best way I can. These days I have good coping strategies but they don’t seem to be working.

I’m using my new skills and upping my game harder than ever and still I suffer.

No purgatory.

Well, there is an element of being lost and not knowing in what direction I am going in.

My opponent not only mastered this game of chess ,he carved the very pieces of each piece,  made the board and wrote the the rules. To say I’m frustrated and stuck is an understatement.

I’m struggling . That is the truth.

I need to start to think differently. I don’t know where the rule book is. I know all the cheat ways to get to my goal but I want to do it in a courageous and new way.

Our fight is frustrating. We feel at the mercy of our illness but we can stick together and support one another. Just by expressing ourselves in our blogging we are reaching out for support.

I need another way. I’m reaching out today becasue I don’t know who else to turn too

Acceptance

“Happiness can exist only in acceptance” George Orwell

Why this quote?

I have days when I am buzzing. I’m on an all self empowerment mission

 

if you don’t like me then talk to the palm , see the worry on my deadpan face.

Not accepting what and who you are and look like is a one way trip to an asylum – I know  this.

Some days I accept I am a “normal” weight  and body shape now. I am not supposed to l have  the body and measurements of a 14-15 year old.

 

I know this but I have moments where I struggle to accept I have breasts, periods, thighs that touch, hip bones not jutting out.

I work out but I am not muscular -I try to see that this is healthy and is a  desirable  look  to achieve and aim for.

 

Sometimes it is hard to separate my old beliefs that healthy =  chubby or not slim or thin.

I wonder if I have made some God awful mistake taking up  exercise. I’ve bulked up and when I see a picture of myself, on a down day. I zone in my arms.

Why are they so big? Where have my waif arms gone?

Not accepting yourself can drive you mad. I know this.

It drives old behaviours and thoughts.

There is me trying to fit in with the world and it ends up like this!

My biggest not so helpful behaviours are weighing myself obsessively -so I may as well super glue the thing to my feet, I do it so much.

The worst mind fuckery is when I ask my partner to take pictures of me. It is hard to accept myself  and be happy in a body when the mind won’t allow it.

It rejects the body as a whole. It zones in on one particular aspect.

KevinCorrado7.jpg

Big arms, no six pack, bloated tummy, cellulite.

So many thoughts scrabble  the mind

It must be the increase in medication

 I eat too much 

Why did I fool myself?

Why did I let myself be fooled that I am beautiful? 

The most insane thought…

Let me upload a bunch of pics of me  in my bikini,not in some exotic holiday place lazing by the pool ,sipping cocktails; but in my small bedroom, pale , no tan, trying to get in  as many angles as possible so I can scrutinise my body.

Anorexia begs me

PLEASE PUT THESE PICTURES UP! WE NEED SOME KIND OF VALIDATION!

I won’t and I can’t….

So this is just a small insight into how even ONE day of not accepting yourself and others can turn your day from driving by in a vintage open top Rolls Royce, past cotton fields, the air is a  sweet honey and the smell of fresh pine.

Not accepting yourself or  others can turn into a day of picking cotton, boiling and beating the starch out of the linen, the smell of sweet honey becomes a harbinger, it coats the scent of dead charred bodies- slaves.  Try to mask it. You become the person who sees the carefree people drive by so cool and seemingly  no problems.

I want to be happy so I must strive to accept myself as much as possible. I cling on to the good days and try to remind myself of the days when  I feel like I am in a suit and not a real body.

in other news today… Money comes in and money goes out.

It’s bill paying day  Just go with this one, please.

That is fucking seriously depressing but it doesn’t depress me because I accept that in order to be comfortable and happy I have to pay for that privilege.

It sucks that  I have to pay for it but it DOES NOT  have an impact on my happiness. I know I am poor in money and rich in love – I accept that just a  thought. ….



The unsensational one dimensionals

 The pain inside me remains the real deal

It’s  a tragedy how I  only cruise on wordpress when I have tears dripping onto the steering wheel.

The journey that promotes me to tap away is always inspired by an ill gotten day.

Deal with the past. It’s too easy to blame.

I swear, I  look forward.

Stand up for where I  go wrong and who I  maim.

Revolving doors of asylum,  inpatient wannabe beauticians.

Incredulous  that  my  own mother

bipolar, institionalised,

beaten by her lovers and suffered her own ills.

Thinks its better to throw me behind the institution with E.C.T.  waves and the  barbed wire.

Jesus had a crown of thorns – aesthetically cruel in their Romanic decisions.

It’s  a loop on a loop.

more drama –

 Every.

Week.

It’s.

Something.

 New.

No.

every week its  the same song coming out in different shade of blue.

This won’t disappear by erasing my face from your mind.

My child is my glory.

You wonder why i can’t take this lying down?

 instead I give you the flamboyant, cussation  sign

 Call the crisis team.

We live in a Theresa May ,Tory sperm infested  government.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not drinking

I’m not overdosing

 Not taking drugs.

Merely holding myself at a metaphorical  gunpoint.

I want to protect my family from the inner Iago in me.

Deceives and twists all the good my heart seeks to see.

A mighty herculean -blinded by rage.

Numbers  are his torment – he looks to  them like riches dripped in gold.

an obssesive compulsive disorder compells him to have less –

It  must be all light  and sage.

Alone , i wake up to the sound of silence.

No daughter to say good bye to ,

 no husband plodding about drinking coffee and watching QI on rinse.

In Africa I would be welcomed for my rise in weight.

I’m not in Africa.

I’m in a mind fed on media, with distorted ideas about what to look like.

Social media , I hate.

Insight is a curse -Ignorance is bliss.

Two weeks away from my deadline.

 Post graduate, Daisy willows , in the Humanities

I  should be riding out to the ocean to collect my sun’s kiss.

I feel like I’m there for everyone- I listen  to their woes.

I jump up and celebrate every time they make a success of their lives.

 They shine so bright – I call them my ‘little twinkle toes’.

I know I shouldn’t expect,

then I wouldn’t ‘t get disappointed.

I do,

 i do…

I do..

 life.

I keep up appearances until the night terrors pull me out of my bed, torture me under veiled sight.

 Days

 filled with  infected cuts and perceptions line up disjointed.

I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a family!

So, why do you get the hump when i have no other alternative but to call up the family intervention team?

I want my daughter to grow up without these bouts of fits & confusion.

the cycle of poorly managed mental health to skip a generation .

 Enough with another  ‘daughter following  in her mother’s  steps’ delusion.

There is more to the back lash of her tounge and callous remarks than plain  old wickedness.

We are a narrative of complex emotions bound up, in a body of flesh and bones.

look beyond your eye line fall.

Seek and you  will find a person who is not transparent -less.
Sick of seeking approval from social media one dimensional folk.

Cull the people who can’t see it for what it is.

 Fakery

 it’s  beyond a joke.

Cutting down on so called friends.

re catagorise my means to justify making  ethical ends.

 People see right through you

Unless your name is printed in black and white.

The best stars shine and go about unseen,

making wishes of hope seem bright.

Her rage tips over the sides – the current for those who get credit for being generico stereotype.

It’s all hype.

they barely even look alive.

I want justice.

I want the people who make a difference

 to get credit where its due.

I’ve had enough of this  fake bakery .

Diabetic shots brings out the bad assery in me.

I’m done with pretentious folk .

Emotional  vampires who expect.

Because they think they precribe the ideal look.

Its sad, a shame.

Don’t get caught up in the superficial.

Remember, reality goes way past the fantasy of this screen.

Cos we naturally wired to be a human being.

We need to communicate

 reciprocate.

Technology has purpose – it’s not for living life in a kumbaya state.

So many lies,

people all have ties

Issues-

That keep them  reaching out for 39p tissues.

I’m here for authenticity.

Denounce those who I see,

in all their duplicity.

I can’t be good and kind to all that seek attention.

selfish,

marred

 How tragic is this situation?

Goodbye to many of you.

who will never wake from your boggled  eyed fallacy.

I don’t do this out of spite or even maliciously .

I see clearly what and who holds me back.

My sole purpose is to stay on track.

So good bye to some of  those

I’ve met on my path

Good luck with your life and everything that comes with decisions aftermath.

I aint got no more energy for you.

My people, my life needs my attention. Arrears paid up –

Well overdue.

 Mini life update 14 days  until I  hand in my End Of Module assessment for year one of my Masters. 😛

I will have a post graduate certificate in the Humanities 😛🤓🤓

I have news….

A director (not name dropping) wants me  to send him my script about the homeless couple.

I don’t think Im going to……..

Or maybe I should …..

I don’t know.

I’ve never thought  I was a good enough writer to see my work brought to life.

It”s scary to think that success is possible.

Rejection is normal, but the more I distance myself from the people in my life who made/make me feel shit about myself, and my abilities, and my sense of belonging; the more I  meet  people who see the good in me .

 I don’t want to feel like shit around people.

So, I would rather be surrounded by a small number of those who are true and think I’m cool ish 😎😉.

Let the rest of world get their claws out in their need for attention, and to be heard.

 Be humble.

Life is a blessing already

One thing is for sure. I will never work for fame. I will always work for justice and what is right.

I’m struggling, but never will I give up or give in.

This heart beats.

These eyes have fire behind them

DAISY
Xxx

 

Why did I eat That? 😀🤔

Why did I eat that ? 

Any cat will know I’m gonna scream bloody hell I’m so fat.

If only I meant it like I’m cool dealing with  a belly

extended like a starved, fledgling Biafran

Doesn’t mean I’m happy when the scales groan  

-too much mass. 

Why did I eat that? 

inhaled beans, and camembert cheese , tuna and peas

Hard core, non divergent, box ticking  Anorexic.

 I can’t throw up. I can’t use laxatives.

I sit with my newfound rolls.

Puppy dog

not cute .

Eating disorder   you smutty little tease.

Why did I eat that?

Mushrooms to grow?

 Or shrink my stomach to  give off a sexy new  glow ?

Only so much fungi  I  can  mitigate when I’ve had an oral mastication blow.

This is not a pleasurable job.

Hands cover my eyes. No mirrors must  ever let me know.

Why did  I eat that ?

A memoir to torment myself – 30 tablets a day – neck it down

Sit on the psychiatrist’s couch.

How about we  lose the meds, you give me the cure

I can show off a palatable pageant, non dentistry crown.

Why did I eat that?

I need energy, Can’t go places without any juice

This ole devil gives me every sodamistic excuse.

The answer?

I’m feeling not quite right in the head.

I’m determined to  live out the next 30 years living free of   Bio-Pyscho-Social, self punishment  misuse.

Sheep on suicide

Where is my mind?

The weed who has every right to declaim — life’s not fair.

I’m back , I’m here . And a round of applause for me.

I’m reclaiming my life!

Life is like tax credits. We have to keep on reclaiming it to make sure we get it.

For one reason only:

This is my life and I care.

separated from the one I thought I loved needed.

 woke up

  saw my life for what it really is

If that makes  me a hard bitch, emotionless or selfish.

I’ll take every adjective and I’ll mix it in with my next meal.

Add an extra portion of muscles and plenty of shellfish.

One life to choose.

Mine or another?

I choose me and my daughter.

Every. Single. Time.

I’m a cheater, I’m a druggie.  I’m crazy. I’m a …what? 

I ain’t got time for your nonsense,

Pack your shit up and get out;

so I can raise my family

to understand

people are human.

Some people keep on building the same rickety, useless fence over and over and over.

And then die.

If my vices-when activated

render me a misfit of society?

Bah j’en fiche!

Translation –

Whatever!  I don’t value your opinion.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not a sheep.

I’ve been swimming since I was living in an amniotic sac.

Water baby.

Born and bred.

The water life chose me.

Life is not fair — don’t be patronizing. 

Boy ( you’ll be a man soon)

 Listen. I don’t need you or you  type.

I sure as hell, don’t want you.

What about all I’ve done for you.

I  literally picked you off the street.

Must I go into detail ….

Nah! Bro.

My issues.

My mind.

I’m dealing with it.

I can’t hit a button and go on the rewind.

My daughter.

My daughter. 

Her bond to me- is first and foremost.

She’s already living a lie.

I have to explain to her  who her biological father is.

Parents walk away every day from their children.

Others do step  up

and do good by them.

Until… abuse and disrespect start again.

Back off deal with your emotions.

Cut the strings. Grow a ..ahem

Pair of wings.

Fly – be ambitious — live your life.

You want to be role model?

Live your life.

Make something.

Anything.

That is the greatest show of love you can bestow on a child.

Show them –

yes, life is unfair.

No one ever said it was easy.

Nobody wins a prize for it.

Depending on your religion.

 If you want a prize

go pick one and go with it.

We just  gotta keep going on,

Don’t lose sight of that lighthouse.

It will bring us back to shore.

I can’t carry another dead weight.

I need to save myself and my child.

I was drowning in all of your shit.

BLAH!

BLAH!

BLAH!

The ones I chose to sleep with, and play a game of common whores.

We can all do  chores

We can all be whores.

We can all be bores.

Genderize it. Put it into context.

I look around me and everyone with ‘a stick to throw’ has disappeared.

I’m on my knees.

 

A new dawn, a new day.

New gossip to come —  Lodi Dodi  -there’s some tussle or gossip to come from some other party.

(Slick Rick reference)

Fodder for the foraging masses.

Self brainwashing

I don’t owe you an explanation

time,

money,

me!

If  being busy is a sign of vindictiveness

If saying no- is a sign of vindictiveness-

Throw  that hoop on me.

And I’ll hula hoop my way into ‘the vindictive dance award’s category.

What else can you/people  throw at me?

It hurts more when I’m unstable, high – not using my resources.

When I’m me. I can take it.

It doesn’t hurt.

big heart

Increasingly

Selective.

my journey,

my life —its where I’m at

Live for yourself.

miserable human lives for someone else’s approval.

Trust me, I’ve tried, never lied, nothing to hide.

Everything to gain

 lose my sanity, possibly my child?

My Biggest gamble.

 willing to take my own life.

You’re stood there  crying like you are’ the shook one.’

I’ve stepped into reality.

Scraping dog shit off my shoes every day.

 willingly believe dog shit is a sign I’m going to receive good news.

willingly believe that  I have what it takes to make it — Again.

 gasped my first breath in years.

lookup,

see beauty,

the stars,

see promise.

Not willing to let you cripple me

see another way-

see another route never said I cared about you or him or that.

probably did.

probably did

probably do. This is where I am at.

I do not answer to you.

Or you –

maybe you.

I know who I have to answer to.

Pass me more tissues

aware of my issues.

My life or yours?

I’d be certifiable insane if I  allow me to take more attempts on my life.

On a final note

‘I am an artist and I’m sensitive  about my shit ‘

TECH N9NE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKs5OsT4dIY

 

 

 

  • Photo credit Francesca  Woodman

Perhaps I want to..

I want to stop stuffing my mouth with food

To allow the words I swallow tumble out my own truth .

I want my voice not to sound happy

I want it to be happy.

I want to eat meals without guilt.

I don’t want to be overweight.

I want anorexia to stop carving every single slice of edible part until there is nothing but my skeletal soul

Nothing but the debris of littered thoughts

Soiled emotions

Discarded remnants of self love.

I’m screaming

Pleading for just one match to light up my black holed life

The abyss that taunts

Torments

Each moment

Each breath

Every movement

I want to publish a book of my words

One solarity book to place on my bookshelf

I want to feel sexy without thinking that being curvy is criminal.

I want to feel pretty

Confident that I can eat sushi tonight when my daughter has a McDonald’s happy meal.

I’ve scoured the Just Eat.com menu

The thoughts become lairy loud

It becomes easier to take a valium or a drink

Awash myself clean against the accusations

I’m tainted

Impure

My thighs touch

My breasts are disproportionately imperfect

And,

I don’t want to blame it on Some tasteless comment some child made when I was 12 years old.

My collar bones are disappearing

My butt is bigger

Im not disappearing

I’m not smaller

I want a worthwhile exsistance

I want to claim my happiness

Perhaps my words are my winning ticket to recovery .

Perhaps I need to buy enough ink and paper to print off 6 years of documented writings, poems, plays, stories and musings

I want

I want

I want my body to understand what it needs

I need

I need

I need my mind

To understand

What it wants.

The neglected child

There are many types of Child Abuse 

Emotional Abuse can be hard to spot and is easy to miss the signs. 

  • humiliating or constantly criticising a child-

 When my Mom was in a Domestic Violent Relationship with my ex step father he would constantly tell me I was chubby, too clingy.

  • threatening, shouting at a child or calling them names
  • making the child the subject of jokes, or using sarcasm to hurt a child
  • blaming and scapegoating

My ex -step father would shout at me for wanting to be close to my mom. He would drag me into my bedroom -my mom would stick up for me and she would get the brunt of my tantrums, clinginess, my eating issues.

  • making a child perform degrading acts
  • not recognising a child’s own individuality or trying to control their lives
  • pushing a child too hard or not recognising their limitations

My ex step father’s idea of teaching me how to swim was to grab hold go me, jump into the swimming pool and stay under the water until I thought I would pas out. He would do this as a joke in front of his friends and laugh at me for being so scared. I was 5 years old

  • exposing a child to upsetting events or situations, like domestic abuse or drug taking

My ex step father used to beat my mom up regularly because she dared to challenge him for cheating on her constantly ,for getting a 15 year old pregnant. He was always high and there were always parties going on with strange men and women around. I used to try and defend my mom until I became too afraid. I used to barricade myself in my bedroom. I would wait until he came home from work and hide under the bed. 

  • failing to promote a child’s social development
  • not allowing them to have friends
  • persistently ignoring them

I felt like my life was irrelevant. I wasn’t worth anything. I remember having an argument with my mom. She was struggling with her Mental health and the abuse. She came home from work when I was 5/6 years old. I was dressed up in her wedding dress and having fun. She screamed at me to get out her room .She was crying, I didn’t want to be away from her. She locked me out of the room because I started to have a tantrum. I went to the kitchen and got a knife out of the drawer and went to her bedroom door and yelled I was going to stab myself if she didn’t open the door. No reply. I heard her crying. I felt alone and that I couldn’t help her.

  • being absent

When I felt helpless and angry. I would act out. I would binge on food, wet the bed conrantly and go and sleep with the dogs in the kitchen. I recall one day feeling so worthless and useless that I couldn’t make my mom better or please my ex step father that I packed a suitcase falloff toys and clothes. I needed to get away. I walked down the driveway (to my child self -it looked like I was walking a long way from home),  When I reached the end of the driveway I looked left, right, I looked across the road and I thought to myself: What do I do now? I prayed that a car with two nice people would stop and pick me up and take me away from where I was. That didn’t happen. I had to accept my defeat and I walked back up the drive way angry. No body knew I had disappeared and I didn’t get the attention I wanted.

  • manipulating a child

Manipulation can be so subtle. I recall a time when my mom had found out about another affair that my ex stepfather had. He turned up from work with a puppy for me. I was over the moon. 

  • never saying anything kind, expressing positive feelings or congratulating a child on successes
  • never showing any emotions in interactions with a child, also known as emotional neglect.

BEHAVIOUR PROBLEMS

  • wanting attention or becoming clingy

I never wanted to leave my moms side. I refused to go to school. I would have tantrums and do anything to be heard.

  •    not caring how they act or what happens to them

I became a child who started walking home from school on my own from 5/6 years old. I remember a group of older boys pushing me about and touching my breasts and vagina. 

  • trying to make people dislike them

I didn’t feel very likeable or good about myself so I pushed people away from me. I didn’t feel Could trust people and even today I will show people the worst parts of me to protect myself.

  • developing risky behaviour, like stealing, bullying or running away.

The first time I stole anything was a 5 rand note from my mom so I could buy myself and people in my class sweets at the tuck shop. My ex step father refused to allow me to eat sweets because I was too ‘chubby’. I ran away from home many times as a teenager to get away from my mom when I was a teenager and my Nan and my Dad who refused to acknowledge me. I didn’t want my family to dictate to me. I didn’t want them to tell me they knew what was best for me. I wanted to escape and drugs and being around strange men seemed like the right answer.


There are many types of Child Abuse 

Emotional Abuse can be hard to spot and it is easy to miss the signs. 

humiliating or constantly criticising a child-

 When my Mom was in a Domestic Violent Relationship with my ex step father he would constantly tell me I was chubby, too clingy.

threatening, shouting at a child or calling them names

making the child the subject of jokes, or using sarcasm to hurt a child

blaming and scapegoating

My ex -step father would shout at me for wanting to be close to my mom. He would drag me into my bedroom -my mom would stick up for me and she would get the brunt of my tantrums, clinginess, my eating issues.

making a child perform degrading acts

not recognising a child’s own individuality or trying to control their lives

pushing a child too hard or not recognising their limitations

My ex step father’s idea of teaching me how to swim was to grab hold go me, jump into the swimming pool and stay under the water until I thought I would pas out. He would do this as a joke in front of his friends and laugh at me for being so scared. I was 5 years old

Exposing a child to upsetting events or situations, like domestic abuse or drug taking

My ex step father used to beat my mom up regularly because she dared to challenge him for cheating on her constantly ,for getting a 15 year old pregnant. He was always high and there were always parties going on with strange men and women around. I used to try and defend my mom until I became too afraid. I used to barricade myself in my bedroom. I would wait until he came home from work and hide under the bed. 

failing to promote a child’s social development

not allowing them to have friends

persistently ignoring them

I felt like my life was irrelevant. I wasn’t worth anything. I remember having an argument with my mom. She was struggling with her Mental health and the abuse. She came home from work when I was 5/6 years old. I was dressed up in her wedding dress and having fun. She screamed at me to get out of her room .She was crying, I didn’t want to be away from her. She locked me out of the room because I started to have a tantrum. I went to the kitchen and got a knife out of the drawer and went to her bedroom door and yelled I was going to stab myself if she didn’t open the door. No reply. I heard her crying. I felt alone and that I couldn’t help her.

Being absent

When I felt helpless and angry. I would act out. I would binge on food, wet the bed constantly and go and sleep with the dogs in the kitchen. I recall one day feeling so worthless and useless that I couldn’t make my mom better or please my ex step father that I packed a suitcase full of  toys and clothes. I needed to get away. I walked down the driveway (to my child self -it looked like I was walking a long way from home),  When I reached the end of the driveway I looked left, right, I looked across the road and I thought to myself: What do I do now? I prayed that a car with two nice people would stop and pick me up and take me away from where I was. That didn’t happen. I had to accept my defeat and I walked back up the driveway angry. Nobody knew I had disappeared and I didn’t get the attention I wanted.

manipulating a child

Manipulation can be so subtle. I recall a time when my mom had found out about another affair that my ex stepfather had. He turned up from work with a puppy for me. I was over the moon. 

never saying anything kind, expressing positive feelings or congratulating a child on successes

never showing any emotions in interactions with a child, also known as emotional neglect.

SIGNS OF EMOTIONAL ABUSE IN OLDER CHILDREN

use language you wouldn’t expect them to know for their age

act in a way or know about things you wouldn’t expect them to know for their age

struggle to control their emotions

have extreme outbursts

seem isolated from their parents

lack social skills

have few or no friends.

EFFECTS OF EMOTIONAL ABUSE

BEHAVIOUR PROBLEMS

wanting attention or becoming clingy

I never wanted to leave my mom’s side. I refused to go to school. I would have tantrums and do anything to be heard.

   not caring how they act or what happens to them

I became a child who started walking home from school on my own from 5/6 years old. I remember a group of older boys pushing me about and touching my breasts and vagina. 

Trying to make people dislike them

I didn’t feel very likeable or good about myself so I pushed people away from me. I didn’t feel Could trust people and even today I will show people the worst parts of me to protect myself.

Developing risky behaviour, like stealing, bullying or running away.

The first time I stole anything was a 5 rand note from my mom so I could buy myself and people in my class sweets at the tuck shop. My ex step father refused to allow me to eat sweets because I was too ‘chubby’. I ran away from home many times as a teenager to get away from my mom when I was a teenager and my Nan and my Dad who refused to acknowledge me. I didn’t want my family to dictate to me. I didn’t want them to tell me they knew what was best for me. I wanted to escape and drugs and being around strange men seemed like the right answer.

EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT PROBLEMS

feeling, expressing and controlling emotions

lacking confidence or causing anger problems

finding it difficult to make and maintain healthy relationships later in life

higher levels of depression and health problems as adults compared to those who experienced other types of child abuse.

MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEMS

mental health problems, including depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts

I went on to develop serious mental health issues. I developed social anxiety from a young age.  My first suicide attempt was at 12 years old

Eating disorders

I became obsessed with my weight. I couldn’t deal with my weight issues and I started taking diet tablets at the age of 15 years old. I abused cocaine and mandrax and ecstasy -any drug to stop me from thinking about food. I used to demand my mother take me to doctors to prescribe diet pills for me even though I was thin. I had huge problems and I eventually developed Chronic anorexia. I was sectioned twice in the U.K.   In 2007 I developed Bradycardia. My BMI was 14. My weight was 39 kilograms. I wanted to die. 

Self-harm

I don’t know why I felt the need to cut my legs in my Nan’s kitchen when I was 12/13. I didn’t know how else to express myself. When I lost my virginity to a guy who had left his ex and promised to date me and be with me. The next night his ex, myself and him were in his car and he chose his ex over me. I flipped. I couldn’t deal with the pain, the headache and I cut myself with a bottle neck and became uncontrollable. 

language development

problems forming healthy relationships.

If you want to help someone who is being abused in all its forms or to help someone who is self harming.

Second life -Mort tell et tea

* This Borderline poem was written a week before I attempted to take my life (again).I ended up in Critical Care in a coma for 7 days & in ICU for a further 6 days. I was discharged from hospital on the 21st of May 2020 *

Please, make sense of reality.

Use a stream of consciousness

words to

 Vent,

rant,

rave,

A discovery in recovery

Fathom out sense because words are only as good as the interpreter.

Could add literary success to a Gravatar profile in an E-book

Add a few drafts poured into that fulminate crunched up chaos.

This doesn’t invoke a feeling of literary success.

Trying.

Struggling to convey all words .

Reciprocated words are often misinterpreted

Misheard

Another attempt to convey these words.

Perhaps one person will see this array of affray spread its torment defecating the inner spiral case of the

Mind,

It swirls down these steps in every way.

The moment to call it a day

This draws an outline forever to have the last say.

Hear me proclaim

This

Is

My

Life.

Don’t want to carry on living this way

Shame lingers

It overstays — the bailiff texts for rent arrears

Read,

What is laid down?

Listen

I’m not done yet.

Hanging by a thread it’s tethered

Seen many days to identify as weathered

Hanging by a thread

This is my life purpose!

Final chance to meet my fate

Waited for this all my life

A mystery date with a severed soul mate.

Taught & tethered & weathered is this rope

To late

convinced

I’m no tightrope walker.

I’ve become my own word stalker.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda arrested these rants before my digress

Covert corner

Wait in this hidden corner.

Evidently I’ve learned that survival is innate.

It ain’t easy to digest the days I’m not blessed to eat from a plate.

keep rising up despite a lifetime’s worth of trip-ups.

Until I die

One fine day

I’ll face the final exit of my mortality

I’ll know the truth

Either way it’s gonna end up with a body

Fatality.

Subconsciously know why I feel

It’s called humanity

What do I know about that damp dark corner entertaining souls I’ve yet to meet?

Going to have to wait for a promising future chance we haven’t dreamt of taking yet.

If I lose all memory

Forget those words 

soggy, wet, lost to another realm of the bereft

Lest I forget.

I write to recover.

Be happy or die trying.

Simultaneously a resilient species & inconveniently inept.