*only you can decide which oddities are worth keeping or eliminating some most definitely are worth keeping- the ones that make you feel alive keep- the ones that make you feel ugly and insignificant -discard*
TIP FOR A SENSE OF EMPOWERMENT:
Expose
Detox
Eliminate
Cleanse
repeat regularly.
Bonjour tristesse, I leave you without a second glance.
6hours to go until a new dawn greets me with its fiery dance.
No amount of Moons ago, could I foresaw this trip to such a bodacious planet.
Lavender dreams interrupted by the need for a bubble bath to cleanse my soul,
enrich my palate.
How it leaves me in stark clarity,
other daisies grow wildly in meadows.
2 am cleanse off- eliminate others’ unwanted worries and troubles.
Herbal tea infusions – a meet up with friends who know about life’s true haggles.
Comments intended to cut to the core.
Manage to lick-up one salty tear
begging for more.
A soul is awoken when it faces all directions.
Never blind yet always courageous to evoke dear affections.
Common goals shared by trolls made by the same finger pointing corporation
Pity those who continue to live not a decade but over half a century in miserable devastation.
Hot water filling a tub – a sauna to enlight.
Voices
You are “divorced”, a drama queen, I only wanted a shag.
It tickled your delight to dangle carrots when I was newly married
you are most certifiably unbecoming the state of inner jihad.
I’m having fun acting in a workshop.
That accent is dreadful I can sign you up for electrocution elocution lessons.
Don’t mind me having a gas- the whole purpose of improvisation is to get involved.
Don’t use me as a pawn for fear of being put under your harsh self-imposed scrutiny.
You are ugly.
the biggest topic under dissection in a house full of self-confessed millionaires.
All those beatings, and Sangria holiday hangovers yet,
still, no permanent fix for happiness to last longer than a child’s joy at the penultimate of funfairs.
Three perfect lessons in all that is wrong not with me, but with others,
who can’t equate strength alongside vulnerability.
How can it be true that the two run side by side like rivers?
merging into one ocean of clear waters.
Confucianism arise in accountability.
No one can possess opposing characteristics!
She does not conform to why we hate her
so, now we must turn up the gas lighter
justify our vexes and vehemence to assure we are credible witnesses, to attest, this Red lettered calamity remains hidden,
In dead carcasses.
Oh, Shame!
we shall honor you and remain her loyal Foe.
A few written words, at an ungodly hour.
I’ve never been one to conform to another with power.
Time is up, my bath tub is run.
Imagine it freestanding.
careless in an era where it is encouraged to be eccentrically unique. cartwheeling in a quest to not only live and work hard,
remember to have fun.
*inspired by toxic people.
Daisy, how can you just assume it’s other people who are toxic and not you?
Well, I say it takes one to know one.
I know how to be toxic, I’ve been toxic and I know how it feels to live away from toxic vibes and people. *
Preying on vulnerable open wounds -healing will never begin.
Investigate those eyes before committing to a reprise.
Listening to melodies – Sirens come with mixed genitalia -long hair is but one disguise.
take a ruler to the heart – measure the worth of sufferance again.
Sever the connection – scatter archaic ashes in rivers – imposing artificial zen.
Follow your path. Look at how far you have climbed.
Never forget the struggle of clinging onto that mountain – raging, over-imbibed.
How many tears must you swallow before realizing he only wants you to taste his edifice?
He will spin webs of verse -words veiled in lust just to share his murderous impotent vice.
Remember the reality – the aftershock of his insults.
Remember the silence- the disrespect – the calculated spasmodic my mind has no google map whereabouts
This is a wake-up call – a reminder – It is not just you- he has chosen in an attempt to toast with a contrived roast.
He suffers from genuflecting self-esteem issues that cause the desertion of Hells own residential ghosts.
You and he are not alike.
You and he are not alike.
You and he are not alike.
You have a mind that looks for the good- seeks to find friendship without shame.
He has a mind that will convince you are ruined to think two genders can reasonably rhyme or mime without the bane of another unfulfilled echo of ‘I just came’
Take this negative,
filter out all color from this overspeeding thought.
Look at the skeletons – black and white – bones tell the history of those who he tried to thwart.
He’s alone for reasons he alone can only answer for.
Keep hold of your bright light for those who offer you a light when they sense a dull veil surround your core.
Gentle men and women don’t give ultimatums laced with sexual innuendos.
Sing this kumbaya to those ready for climatic conscription conditioning,
volumize the colony of desperados.
*dedicated to all the toxic pricks I’ve ever met. You taught me how to recognize your kind well. Namaste*
SO MUCH RESPECT FOR THIS LADY! . DARINA i 6 or known as manyofus on word press, lives with an illness called dissociative identity disorder. Even more respect for her because she digs rap and hip hop.
hihi everybudy it me darina and i am six i maked this video and i introduced myself and i want share it to you all here it is i hope you all like it❤ darina i six
‘Pearls do not lie on the sea shore if you desire one you must dive for it’ – Chinese proverb
I have lost my courage lately, I found this proverb. My volunteering life with HEALTHY MINDS picks up again next week. I will be doing a workshop on Monday, in front of a lot of volunteers who work with vulnerable families; to help raise their awareness of the stigma against mental health. I then start a two-out four-day training course starting on facilitating groups and workshops. I’m also pushing myself to re-edit an article for one of the newsletters I sometimes contribute towards. I’m also 12 weeks away from getting married!
It is okay to be scared and nervous. I won’t ( and you too mustn’t)let temporary fears get in the way of my ambitions and passion.
Take it day by day. I find my lack of courage and confidence comes when I live in the future of ‘ shoulda’s and ‘couldas.
I am sure many of you can relate to this proverb. Let us go out with a bold stride and a sense of determination today :0
So, I ended 2015 in a state of stupefied drunk despair. Regretting every action I committed on New years eve. Just over one month has passed. I’ve kept far away from the alcohol. I had my dip with my Anorexia. February life has started to pick up where I left it in December.
Waving my hands in the air like I just don’t care!
I’m gaining my self-confidence back. My diary is filling up – idle hands all that jazz. The wedding is coming together. I’m am delighted and a tad ‘on edge’ at the same time.
Positive people are gravitating toward me again. To say I have to peel myself from the roof is an understatement. Lionel Richie and me are busting out some moves on the ceiling. Oh yeah, baby. Has anyone ever seen him being interviewed? He is such a dick head! There is no way someone like him could write such beautiful songs. Who remembers ‘Ballerina girl’ ? Google him in an interview and then you will get it.
I am doing my -co-production awareness training workshop on the 16/02. All of these workshops brings me closer to getting the Eating disorder recovery group up and running. As a person in active recovery from an Eating disorder, to be able to realise this and watch it germinate and blossom like a flower 😀 and be a huge part of the process off it-is like -not being God- no, I am not Kanye Wet ( Yes, I will keep that last spelling error) delusional. It’s more self-validating. What I mean by that is, it shows I am on a good path. A well-lit path. Like this dude. There is light in my hands I am responsible for keeping that light going and I am in charge of where I end up. Does that make sense?
I’ve recently posted some seriously depressing posts and I will continue to share my past with you; but their needs to be some writing room to rollick in the present. I need to feel the quiver of fluttering,
the beating of butterfly wings, reminding myself I am indeed alive and have purpose. I think my posts need a bit of balance. I don’t know if I am the only person -I suspect I am not. I sometimes finish writing posts that send me lunging backwards to my past and I am reaching out for the Diazepam- I can have full-blown panic attack.
The cure? ( Great band. wrong context- or is it?)
Stop writing Daisy.
No! I won’t!
I have a purpose.
I am a human being.
I have a story to tell.
A past, a me right now and a bright and vibrant future.
Without me trying to get all Disney ‘Lion King’ on you (cue African music that makes the heart swell); I believe our lives and experiences are full circles. Sometimes you are at the top and then inevitably you need to go round that circle. Of course, there will be many times when you are at the bottom. I always say
‘Look for the silver lining’.
That is my way of saying: I and you will come full circle again (eventually) . We all will get to the top of that circle of life again. The only thing I can’t tell predict is how long it will take to come full circle.
I have this belief, that if I use my time at the bottom of the circle, productively and push ahead and not do too much damage interfering with the flow. Then, I won’t slow down the time scale it takes to get back to the top again. I need to learn the lesson, feel the pain or whatever happens but I must move on. Easy words to type. Harder to put in action. However, it is possible.
Possible is all I need to hold onto and go and do great things..
To get off the whole philosophy bandwagon. My man and his rumbustious friends 😉 are coming round to ours for ‘SUPER BOWL 2016’ night. It is a tradition in our home. I don’t want to watch a bunch of dudes watching another bunch of dudes ‘tackling’ and touching up one another. I DO want to know who is doing half time this year.
I don’t know if anyone saw Katy Perry and her foam mascot sharks last year?
So here is to a fresh new week. (Great shit is happening. Everything is coming together, not at the pace or even exactly how I plan it to go, but that’s cool with me. Stuff is getting done!
My mantra, I have used for a few months now is working. Mantras work! Mine is:
‘I am a success in everything I do’ –
I’m fulfilling my thoughts- the ‘mini-like prayers’ that I tell myself. Find one that resonates with you. It works! I am the most analytical person I know – I wouldn’t lie to you .
Time to buzz off and get reading some of your awesome blogs and thoughts. Word reader is a bit crap. I don’t ever get to see all the posts that I follow. I don’t know if anyone else has the same problem but I will read as many as I can.
Namaste, Soca, peace, light and love until next time.
Possibly one of the hardest posts to write down- ever. The one that I don’t want to put down into words for a fear of failure and nor giving my fight the justice I feel it deserves.. I need some form of a creative out let, so I am going to go all Dear diary, I think I’m going to re-invigorate our old diary by giving it a name.
Dear Sid,
From the years 2012 to just before summer this year in 2015. I thought I had recovered from Chronic Anorexia. How fucking arrogant is that? I started eating more types of food and letting myself indulge a small bit. I got into exercising to be healthy. It was great I lived with a set weight that varied by 1-2 kilograms
Roll on to the present day…
Seemingly from out of nowhere, those Anorexic thoughts have managed to take on Greek tragedy chorus effect. Telling me things I don’t particularly want to hear. It tells me that I have put an extra two kilos on and that is way over the limit. My mind can’t process this thought. The weight needs to go down. Some days I can shake off those critter thoughts in my head. This is great progress from a few years ago. If I had put on a couple of kilos back when I was entrenched in my illness, I would hide away from the world, purge and restrict all food and fluid intake until my weight was in back in my safety zone. It feels like being stuck in a painting with no room to move and evolve.
I have been challenging my thoughts for the past few months now and for the most part, they have been silenced.but then they release a double whopper and it literally throws me into irrational thinking and behaviour. It grabs my animated emotions by the scruff of the neck and bullies me with my own negative emotions. Then I think I have ‘fooled’ myself into a body that I don’t know how to dress for. I wear proper bras these days, that makes me feel self-conscious and womanly. I am now forced to confront my true identity. This is a huge mountain of ‘oh fucks’ in itself.
These past few weeks I have wanted to scream and ask people to tell me if they think I am thin or average or chubby in places. I have been thinking a lot about my food intake. I feel myself falling down that spiral staircase into unhelpful thoughts and behaviour. I get angry when I say yes to food and ‘give in’, I weigh myself a lot, I am possessed with capturing my weight gain in images again.
Let me get something straight: I don’t want these thoughts. I don’t. I was so happy and then seemingly out of the blue, the thoughts have been coming at me like arrows. One after the other. It seems like pot luck if I manage to escape from one or another. Eventually, I know I was going to get hit- in my case, repeatedly.
I have moved ahead in my life!
I said that to that Anorexic part of me. It still haunts me. I could dress in anything. I didn’t have to worry about size-all clothes would fit me and look ‘great’ on me. I was non-conforming to society. I was in the elite who had the willpower to restrain myself. I didn’t need pro- Anorexic websites. The power was all in my head. It reminds me how intoxicating and almost euphoric that feeling too surpass the hunger is. Then the adrenalin kicks and I get a kick out of that too. The figures go down on the scale and that drives me on even more. Then the food cuts down. Drinking water turns to drink coffee or Pepsi max. Chewing large quantities of chewing gum.
I communicate less and less with my world until I am genuinely scared to go out. People begin to terrify me. They might talk me back into recovery to stop me from relapsing. I can only see a merging of people. A black unfocused mass. The mass becomes a force conspiring against me. The panic attacks start. The hissy fits and pouts begin. Excessive exercise takes over more of my time and I push myself to go until, I literally pass out
RECOVERY from eating-disordered goes in cycles and not in a linear way. It is very easy to relapse.
I don’t want to relapse. I want to enjoy time with my family. Eat what I damn well like and without shame and guilt. I want the anxiety and depression to go. I want to embrace my womanly curves. I want the next 30 odd years of my life to not be held at knifepoint by a merciless pirate whose only aim is in collecting things. I am not a thing! I a person.
I suppose this is where I start talking to people, using my WRAP and getting my plan out to challenge my thoughts. Even thinking about going to war over fighting my thoughts has brought on feelings of betrayal. Something- a whole identity- a person-almost- has been in my life for nearly 25 years. A whole quarter of a century.
Not an easy post.. but it is out of my head and on paper. The one thing I have to remind myself is it doesn’t matter if other people read this or not. It is the fact that I am articulating my pain and my issues in a way that releases some of the pressure..
So Sid.. thanks for being a good diary. You are doing a great job. Keep it up!
