 At the moment, I’m far from emotional so I don’t feel that I can really blog on this today. I’m a mixture of numb and quite depressed. I still do feel emotional in some ways, they just aren’t very intense at all. The emotions are flat; besides the obvious depression.
In some ways I’d like to feel emotional rather than numb. At least I’d then have some energy to talk to people and get out from underneath my duvet!
Being emotional can be good as if you’re feeling intense emotions, you can try to direct them into a positive form. For instance, if you feel very angry, you can direct the energy that is in the anger to doing something that is constructive. It’s not really the same when you’re numb and depressed.
Like I said, there’s not much I can say on this ‘emotional’ stuff today. I do apologise as I feel I’m letting you down! But I still made an entry, so I hope that’s enough.
Take care. <3
 I’m a very logical person when it comes to practical tasks; when it comes to helping other people and giving advice. I’m entirely rational with it all. When it comes to myself? I can safely say that I can be totally illogical and totally irrational.
It’s strange how you can see people so differently to how you see yourself. If someone you loved was suffering the same as you and exhibiting the behaviours that you yourself were exhibiting, would you stand by and let it happen? Wouldn’t you intervene? Give logical advice and support them? Can I answer that for you with a yes?
What about when it comes to yourself? If your self-esteem is like mine and you hate yourself, you hate how disgusting you are; would you see your behaviours as illogical and irrational? Do you see yourself in the same way as you see the people you love? Do you take your own advice? Again, can I answer that from my opinion? I’d say no. I do the total opposite. I give advice to the people I love that I would never follow myself. I give suggestions, I give help, I try and support them. When it comes to me, though, I seem to just dig myself a hole and be totally self-destructive.
Sometimes logic plays no part in your decisions. Sometimes your decisions are based on distorted thoughts. Sometimes your decisions are based on pure impulse and you act without thinking about any consequences. I’m impulsive. I sometimes act without thinking, at all. There are times where my behaviour and thoughts are totally illogical, totally irrational, yet I feel they make perfect sense. To other people, they see the complete opposite. They can see the truth sometimes, when I don’t see it.
You may be logical when supporting other people with practical advice and suggestions. But can you be logical to yourself? Can you tell yourself that what you’re doing is dangerous and that you should try and change it? Of course there’s going to be setbacks, but when you become logical and move yourself out of denial and into admitting you need help, that’s the first step. It may be the hardest, and it may be a steep hill to climb afterwards.
It may have been long ago when you felt in control of your behaviours. Consider the willpower it took to start your behaviours off. Can you change that negative willpower around and turn it into something positive? Use your willpower to change. To recover. To live.
 It’s easy to end up in a lot of trouble if your perception of things is different to everyone else’s. I found myself in trouble a lot at the children’s home I stayed in before moving with my foster family, in regards to my restrictive food intake. I fainted on two occasions and got people seriously concerned over my health. I even scared myself, wondering when someone was going to finally turn around and say, “Keri, your organs are shutting down, there’s nothing we can do. Your behaviour is killing you.”
I have amnesia from before I was 8 years old. I remember nothing. But at that age, you associate ‘trouble’ with lying over whether you did a piece of homework, or blaming your little brother for stealing a piece of your grandparents’ chocolate and then being found out afterwards. That was trouble.
As you grow older, you learn what trouble can actually turn into. You learn that it sometimes doesn’t just involve a ‘slap on the wrist’ and being grounded. It can involve hospitals, it can involve police, it can involve losing all your friends, and it can involve you ending up being so isolated that you don’t want to go on. You wonder whether it’s worth the ‘trouble’ in fighting to make things better.
I know people that still associate trouble with being grounded or not doing coursework. To them, that is trouble. To me? That’s nothing. It’s all about our own perception and sometimes behaviours cause you a lot of hassle and get you into trouble, but does that stop you? Take disordered eating for example. You yearn to be so thin and beautiful, and/or to be in total control, that you go through all the trouble of secrecy, isolation and serious health consequences. Does that stop you? You lose friendships, you lose your life, does that stop you?
One day you see that what the behaviours do is just cause you trouble. They don’t turn out how you expect. You aren’t in control of your behaviours anymore, your behaviours are in control of you. That’s the point where you need to stop and think, is it really that worth it?
 As soon as I saw today’s word I was quick to realise that this one would be slightly difficult for me to do; not because I’m dishonest, but because it’s something I find very important.
I’m a very honest person, most of the time. If I’m asked a direct question, I’ll answer it with as much honesty as I can. It’s obvious when I lie as my brain betrays me. If I’m asked a direct question and I’m telling an outright lie, then my brain says ‘You can’t make eye contact’. If the person knows me well, they instantly catch on to when I’m lying and when I’m telling the truth. It’s extremely frustrating if I’m trying very much to keep something a secret.
I find that, especially with disordered eating, that dishonesty plays a key part in the behaviour. I often found myself lying to people about what I’d eaten that day so that they didn’t nag me to have something, or I’d use sly tricks to make it look like I’d had something if I knew they wouldn’t believe me when they asked. Obviously I’m not going to go into the tricks here as that would be on the borderline of giving ‘tips’ which I’m highly against.
It’s strange how that kind of thing can turn the most honest person in the world to someone who is, I wouldn’t say dishonest is the word; quite ‘sly’ would probably be a better term. Or sneaky. I felt ashamed of myself for keeping secrets. I still did it. I would, and still do, hear voices telling me to be sneaky, telling me not to talk to anyone, telling me to do anything I could to get away with what I was doing; even if I knew it was wrong or that it wasn’t acceptable behaviour. The longer it goes on, the better you get. That once honest person can turn into the most untrustworthy person around. Is untrustworthy the right word?
And yet, when it comes to trust? I’m still very trusted. So, in a way, many people think that ‘honesty’ and ‘trust’ go hand in hand. I found that not to be the case. I’m still very trusted by people, too much at times, yet they know that sometimes I lie, as everyone does at times even if they don’t have some form of distortion in their thinking. Everyone’s always very honest with me, even if it’s something I don’t want to hear, which I really appreciate with people. I know that I’m not being conned or lied to.
I’m almost broaching a whole different subject here so perhaps I better stop. But to finish, I’d like to say that in regards to recovery or treatment, honesty is the best policy. Even if you feel ashamed by what you’ve done, or what you’re thinking, or how you’re feeling. It’s always better to tell the truth, even if it’s going to hurt someone. I would personally rather be told the truth, even if it hurt, than be lied to straight to my face.
Lies are always discovered, the truth lasts forever.
 A warrior, to me, is someone who fights and fights and never gives up, even in the depths of hopelessness.
In some ways, I am a warrior. Sometimes I give up and let everything take over. But there are times where I just keep fighting, no matter how hard it is to continue to do so.
That’s what makes a warrior. Even when you feel like there’s no other option but to give up, you continue to fight through it, knowing that one day all the hard work you have put in will eventually pay off. Warriors are people that should be respected.
Some people don’t understand what it’s like to be in the depths of a fight between life and death. To be so entrenched in your behaviours, to be so overcome with depression, that hope is just another word without meaning. Yet people who continue to strive for a positive outcome through all of this become stronger when they pull through it all.
A lot of people give up, not seeing any point in fighting. Even a strong person has times like this. It doesn’t make you weak, it doesn’t make you flawed. It makes you human. Fighting isn’t always about being positive ALL the time. There are always going to be ups and downs, relapses, rollercoaster rides. It’s the outcome that counts.
“Warriors do not win victories by beating their heads against walls, but by overtaking the walls. Warriors jump over walls; they don’t demolish them.” – Author Unknown
 As soon as I saw that this word was the prompt for today I instantly thought of my family.
sin·cere (sn-sîr)
adj. sin·cer·er, sin·cer·est
1. Not feigned or affected; genuine: sincere indignation.
2. Being without hypocrisy or pretense; true: a sincere friend.
3. Archaic Pure; unadulterated.
When you’re trying to recover from an illness, any illness but especially mental illness, the people around you are the ones who can help you most. The only way you’re going to get better is by working hard yourself, but having people around you who are always sincere and supportive is helpful.
My foster family are the most sincere people I know. They never pretend to be people they aren’t. They don’t pretend that they know what they’re talking about. If they don’t understand something then they will say exactly that. They won’t try and pretend they do. No one is perfect, but to put it bluntly, they’re as close to perfect as anyone I’m ever going to have in my life.
 ‘Crazy’ is exactly the word I’d use to describe myself in times of complete distress. I’ve been described with many words and one of them is definitely ‘crazy’. Although this isn’t a word that’s been used in a good way. I’m not crazy. People who live with me know that I’m not.
I think the world is quick to jump to label people as ‘crazy’ if they’re in the slightest bit different to what is considered socially acceptable or ‘normal’. Why? Is it because they intimidate you? Is it because your life is so boring that you can’t handle the concept of someone being different?
I’m not crazy. I just have some problems I need to work through. That’s different to crazy. Everyone has things that they have to deal with, everyone’s got problems that are sometimes so large that they’re extremely difficult to cope with. Would you call them crazy too?
People need to stop labelling and accept people for who they are, not for what they are. Underlying every diagnosis, illness, or label, is the person that wants to be heard. The person that wants to be known for who they are, not labelled and called ‘crazy’. Ditch the crazy label and start to accept people instead of being judgemental and ignorant. Everyone’s different, as they have every right to be.
Everyone’s got their secrets. Everyone’s got things on their mind. Don’t focus on that, focus on the person. If you can’t take the ‘crazy’ parts then you don’t deserve the loving, fun, caring person who’s underneath the ‘craziness’!
 “Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear of punishment.” –Mahatma Gandhi
Power is something that many people crave. It can used in so many different ways, yet, the way I’ve experienced power by other people has been nothing but negative. Some people abuse power to maintain control over people they believe are inferior to them. It can destroy people’s lives.
People can use power to control people who are vulnerable, young or able to be manipulated. Such relationships between parents and children can be based on power. That power is naturally supposed to arise from acts of love. However, there are times when that power is used out of fear of punishment.
Children do what they are told by parents, even if there is an instinct saying that what is happening is wrong. Children follow the advice of their parents, believing what is said and done is right. That’s it’s normal. Sometimes this isn’t the case and children grow up in a household where right and wrong is warped into a whole new dimension.
I spent my childhood trying to get control of my life. What I didn’t realise was that what was really going on was the fact I had no control whatsoever. The control ultimately lay with my parents. The ones who are supposed to teach children how to behave, that it’s okay to cry when you’re upset, that it’s okay for you to make mistakes.
The truth is, some parents are abusive, controlling and manipulating. They destroy the lives of their children. In my opinion, you should earn the right to be a parent. Just because that child was born from your DNA, doesn’t automatically make you the parent. If you can’t bring up children to know that they’re loved and care for, if you use your ‘power’ as a way of control and to use it to abuse vulnerable people, then you shouldn’t be called a parent at all.
Me and my little brother have taken our power back after being deprived of it for so long. Our abuser has been charged and the court date is pending.
Power that arises out of acts of love is the most powerful of all.
 When I was living at home with my parents and my little brother, I always felt invisible. I tried so hard to be the best behaved child I could but my mother never understood me and my father abused me and my little brother, although at the time I had no idea it was happening to my little brother too.
After a while I wasn’t invisible anymore, but that’s because I was receiving a lot of negative attention. I was going off the rails. I was self-harming. I was running away. I wasn’t eating. Doing that kind of thing never made you invisible, it just attracted attention. I wanted attention, but I didn’t want it that way. I wanted positive attention for things I’d managed to achieve, not negative attention for things that were self-destructive and, putting it bluntly, life-threatening.
I’m loved and cared for by my foster family. They do all they can to support me. So why am I sat here wanting to shrivel away into nothing? Why am I sat here wanting to be so small that no one can see me? I don’t want this kind of life. I don’t want my life to be dominated by low self-esteem and no confidence. I want to feel happy, I want to feel wanted, I want to feel like I’m not just a label.
I want to feel like me. The problem is, I don’t even know who ‘me’ is. I don’t know who I am. Maybe that’s why I want to be invisible. I found a song that I listened to a while ago about feeling invisible. It’s by Skylar Grey. It described pretty much how I felt when I lived with my parents and my little brother.
I don’t feel so much like that anymore as I’m loved and cared about by a family that isn’t formed by genetics, it’s formed by support and love. To me, that’s what family is all about. Screw genetics. It’s about respect, understanding and feeling cared about.
Change is a big word and it means different things to different people. What does it mean to me? My life has been turmoil for the last several years and it hasn't exactly been good change.
The one thing I'm proud of is my foster family. I moved here 18 months ago and if they hadn't taken me in I wouldn't be here today.
My biggest change? The transfer from CAMHS to adult services. I heard lots of horror stories about adult services. One of my friends transferred to them and saw a worker once every few weeks, if she was lucky. I was dreading it. I was used to the support.
Turns out, it's nowhere near as bad as I thought it was going to be. If anything, my adult services have been a lot more helpful than CAMHS. I've been given names for the disorders I suffer from which seems to validate them so that I know that what I'm feeling and experiencing is actually real, that it's not just in my head, that, sometimes, it's not as easy as just "pulling yourself together".
I'd like to cure myself, but I know it's not possible. What I can do is try and change my coping strategies and try and become more stable. I may not be able to cure my illnesses but I can treat them. I can regain control over them instead of having them control me. They may linger in the back of my head, but at least then I'd have a life. It seems a long, long, LONG way away right now and there's a lot of times where I just want to give up, but I really hope I'll get there eventually. <3
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