Monday, 9 March 2015


I went to my wardrobe and opened the door. I feel uncomfortable in the room that used to be my bedroom, and still houses a bed, but is home only to Misty. I've slept on the couch for years.

I know exactly where it sits - the tattered old manilla folder, inconspicuous, underneath the box of pieces of paper I've acquired during hospital stays. 

For the last two years, I've not peeked inside it. I've avoided it like the plague, even though it jumps out and hits me in the face whenever I open the wardrobe. But this year I was anticipating it. Not looking forward to it, by any means, but it had pulled me in long before the day.

Inside it houses what little evidence I could recover. I don't know why it's so hard to not look at.

Two books full of depressing teenage poetry, a lot of it about Him. There are 57 journal entries about Him, printed off from my old, mostly private Live Journal - that's probably the most important thing. A chat log from an online helpline. The statement sits half-written in an old lime green notebook. It stops mid-sentence, and I still can't bear to say or write the next line. It's been five years since I last wrote in it.

Now the folder sits next to the couch, under the table, between my laptop and Stable Table, staring at me. 

I don't want to write too much more about it, but it goes a little something like this: during the four months it lasted, each year I go back and re-read everything I wrote about it. Sometimes it's all in one go, resulting in one colossal breakdown. Other times, like this year, I drag the process out day by day. February through June, 2008. I was 14, coming on 15.

"On this day seven years ago..."

The Sick and Twisted Ritual has begun.

I've never talked to anyone about it. They know it happened, but I've never talked to anyone about it. When I first told someone - I think it was the following year - I was supposed to see a specialist counsellor but never did.

He came up in my second-last appointment with the MHN, when she tried to convince me there's nothing to be afraid of when I go outside. I was just sitting there thinking "don't do this to me, don't make me feel able to open up when you'll be gone in 30 minutes or less".

To add insult to injury, it was the 12th anniversary of my father's death, the first time it happened. And he knew it. February 29. A leap year. The most painful date in my world. Next year, it will be 20 years since I lost my dad, and 8 years since I lost my self. A leap year.

I don't get to the New Year or my birthday and look back at the year. I look back during the Traumaversary.

The dates are burned into my head.
The memories burned even deeper.
There is no escape.
There is no relief.

As for the dietician drama... If we were a couple, I suppose you'd say we're "still fighting". 

I don't feel like I can talk to her or trust her like I used to. I've lost all zest for her appointments. Once something I looked forward to, a much-welcomed break in my week, now an obligation, something I have to drag myself to do.

"My heart jumped with joy when I saw your little blue car in the parking lot."
She says it every week lately

I feel like we've hit a wall. I think she knows it too. It took such a long time for me to be able to make eye contact with her, to be able to hold a conversation, and now it's all coming unravelled.

I didn't even ask 'why' this week. It's obvious she's not going to give me an explanation, and it hurts less to not ask. 

I mumbled my answers and didn't tell her about the horror weekend.

"So, what are we doing today? Where do we go from here?"
"I don't know."
"Was it hard to get here today?"
Brick wall.

It's like I'm back to square one with her, in terms of trust and being able to talk to her, and it sucks. I miss how things were a month or two ago. Eye contact is fading again. She has to pull answers out of me. I still haven't gotten on her scale again - obviously it isn't important. It's not so much her weighing me that I have issues with (although it seems pointless), but more her not-a-big-deal response to consistent losses are triggering as fuck. 

I think I should cut my appointments back to once a fortnight. It doesn't seem worth going every week any more. She's starting 6 weeks leave at the end of the month, so after that we'll see what happens. 

It's times like these I'm inexpressibly thankful for this community. You guys just really get it. Like no one else. 

I still haven't heard from the MHN. She said she'd call last week to organize an off-the-books catch up (for which my lovely GP has offered a room at the clinic to avoid having to go out of my safe zone). 

It feels like my support system's been torn down in the space of a month. The MHN is gone. I can't talk to the dietician any more. My GP is also taking leave while the dietician's away for 6 weeks. The new MHN... I'm still not sure what's happening there. I see the GP next week, and we'll see what happens.

And I know this is long enough, but I thought I'd quickly mention, I started reading Wintergirls this week. I'm about a third through, but I don't see what all the hype's about. It's an easy read, but it doesn't hit me in the face as being an ED book the way others have. Maybe I'm missing something?

Anyway, it's a free .pdf copy I've been reading. It took me so long to find one, so I thought I'd share the link in case you guys want a copy.

The dietician did give me some freebies though. She had all these extra Ensure TwoCal's sitting in her cupboard. Best Before: April 2015. So she gave me seven, and told me to grab more next week. I've had little bits of two so far, and will try another tonight, maybe watered down a little. They taste so foul - I'm used to buying big tins of powder and weighing it up myself to the perfect strength for me to stomach. 



  1. I just want you to know how sorry I am that you are going through all this, and at the same time... Important dates can be hard and obviously these days are for you.. I know it's not much, but I'm always here if you need to talk.

    As for your dietitian, I understand your feelings towards her, trust is a really hard thing to win back.
    I hope these things get resolved because it's no way to continue a relationship with anyone (especially someone in her position) if you feel she can't be trusted.

    Many hugs and kisses and stay as unbelievably strong as you are.
    (I know it's hard in times like these but)
    Take care of yourself.
    You are a wonderful lady.

    Mandy Devoidde xx

  2. P.S - I downloaded the pdf book :3

  3. Bella, I'm so glad you keep posting. I take solace, in a way, from reading your updates. They help remind that I am not alone. I sympathize and empathize with your struggles. I have lost interest in personal pursuits with my mental health team. I don't want to connect again. I don't want to open up and then have my appointment be over. Keep trying though, dear - they do want to help. And as hard as it is to shake the feeling that there's no point in trying, the beauty is in trying, in refusing to give up. I was thinking it might be nice to work on a sewing project together. Just something small, and we can send progress pictures back and forth to each other. I hope to hear from you soon via text. Keep on going! XO

  4. I hate talking about hard times. Some people around know what have happened and treat you in a strange way, either avoiding the topic or checking if everything's okay all the time. I think I prefer avoiding the empathy because almost everyone had something that changed him/her or made them the person they're today. Be strong!

  5. I'm so glad I got to catch up on you. Dates are always triggering to me. I know how hard it is to relive everything. Unfortunately I do it all the time. You are strong, even if most days you don't feel like it. I read Wintergirls a couple years ago and I loved it. I'm currently reading "Being Ana." Its pretty good so far. Easy to relate to. I've missed you dear.

  6. I want to wrap you in many many hugs! xoxox

  7. I just finished the book and loved it. Thank you. She has your title in her book but backwards. Not enough, too much. I was touched by that for some reason. (((Hugs, Bella)))

  8. My heart is breaking
    And I am hurting for you my dear Bells
    It makes me so angry that this happened to you
    Why do shitty things happen to good people?
    I wish I knew
    And I know it's an understatement to use the word shitty
    I know this tore your world apart

    As for the dietitian
    She really messed up with the whole weight thing
    But as I heard someone say this week
    Give time, time
    Keep going to your appointments
    Make sure she knows the way you want to do things
    I know its hard to trust again after its been broken
    But try if you can at all

    Always here for you x

  9. I love you so much Bella and I am so sorry it has taken me so long to write a reply to this realy sad post - my heart is totally with you and I know that brick wall feeling very well at the moment. I'll try and send a little letter this week and I'm so sorry I haven't been around more, I think we both understand how difficult communicating is at the moment, but I love you so so much, and everything you've sent me is next to mmy hospital bed, you're my positive, you're my little star, and I love you and always always will. Vent anytime, Amanda xxxxx