'Trust me Hol, it get's better' - you have no idea how much this sentence has been said to me over the past 4 years. It's one of those overly repetitive, yet weirdly comforting, things that people spew out to you in your time of need. It's a phrase as old as time, it's basically the mantra behind every Dua Lipa song and, it's something we've all needed to be told at some point.

It's like the only advice someone can give you at certain times in our lives, because, simply, there really is no other way to explain it. Although life feels crappy, and everything around you is falling to pieces, IT WILL GET BETTER - you just don't know it yet.

The thing is, we just don't want to hear it.

For example, when I was at my worst, dealing with depression and my eating disorders, I remember crying and crying and crying to my Mum, telling her I felt trapped; I felt like I was suffocating; I felt like it was going to be this way for the rest of my life. She'd hold me and tell me, 'you're going to be okay, we're going to fix this', and maybe for 30 seconds, that would heal the wound, it would stop me crying, but right afterwards I would sink back into a dark hole and imagine myself not being around in a years time. The advice didn't do anything for me at that point.

I was void to it. I was ignorant to it. All I cared about was feeling how shitty I felt. I couldn't imagine feeling any other way, and didn't seem to want to either.

But time passes, things change and, hey, look at me now. Just like my Mum said 'we're going to fix this', and we did.

So what if it took 4 years to reach a point of total clarity with it all, I still made it here and things have gotten better.

It all just takes time.

It takes time for these sayings to work - for these things to stick.

Even some stuff that's happened to me recently - I felt like I had been broken for good. I felt so hurt and betrayed and lost.

Everyone around me was saying 'It gets easier', 'It gets better', and I just wanted to be like 'YOU'RE GOING TO SAY THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT FEELING IT OR GOING THROUGH IT!'  - I couldn't deal with trying to be comforted. It all just hurt too much to even try.

Whereas now, fast forward a little bit, and I'm the best place I've been in a long time. I'm so happy, so in control of my mental health, and enjoying my life so so much. It seems like all that hurt and upset never even happened - it's simply not something that affects me too much anymore.

I'm okay.

So, I guess my point here is: Yeah, people are going to spew this repetitive phrases out to you, people are going to comfort you in those ways - tell you things you don't want to particularly hear right now... but give it some time - even if it's years - and you'll realise it's not 'spew' after all. It's actually realistic, truthful and helpful.

Everything always works itself out.

"Trust Me, It Gets Better"


'Trust me Hol, it get's better' - you have no idea how much this sentence has been said to me over the past 4 years. It's one of those overly repetitive, yet weirdly comforting, things that people spew out to you in your time of need. It's a phrase as old as time, it's basically the mantra behind every Dua Lipa song and, it's something we've all needed to be told at some point.

It's like the only advice someone can give you at certain times in our lives, because, simply, there really is no other way to explain it. Although life feels crappy, and everything around you is falling to pieces, IT WILL GET BETTER - you just don't know it yet.

The thing is, we just don't want to hear it.

For example, when I was at my worst, dealing with depression and my eating disorders, I remember crying and crying and crying to my Mum, telling her I felt trapped; I felt like I was suffocating; I felt like it was going to be this way for the rest of my life. She'd hold me and tell me, 'you're going to be okay, we're going to fix this', and maybe for 30 seconds, that would heal the wound, it would stop me crying, but right afterwards I would sink back into a dark hole and imagine myself not being around in a years time. The advice didn't do anything for me at that point.

I was void to it. I was ignorant to it. All I cared about was feeling how shitty I felt. I couldn't imagine feeling any other way, and didn't seem to want to either.

But time passes, things change and, hey, look at me now. Just like my Mum said 'we're going to fix this', and we did.

So what if it took 4 years to reach a point of total clarity with it all, I still made it here and things have gotten better.

It all just takes time.

It takes time for these sayings to work - for these things to stick.

Even some stuff that's happened to me recently - I felt like I had been broken for good. I felt so hurt and betrayed and lost.

Everyone around me was saying 'It gets easier', 'It gets better', and I just wanted to be like 'YOU'RE GOING TO SAY THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT FEELING IT OR GOING THROUGH IT!'  - I couldn't deal with trying to be comforted. It all just hurt too much to even try.

Whereas now, fast forward a little bit, and I'm the best place I've been in a long time. I'm so happy, so in control of my mental health, and enjoying my life so so much. It seems like all that hurt and upset never even happened - it's simply not something that affects me too much anymore.

I'm okay.

So, I guess my point here is: Yeah, people are going to spew this repetitive phrases out to you, people are going to comfort you in those ways - tell you things you don't want to particularly hear right now... but give it some time - even if it's years - and you'll realise it's not 'spew' after all. It's actually realistic, truthful and helpful.

Everything always works itself out.


Well... if that self-indulgent title didn't give it away already, I'm just going to warn you now, this blog post is going to be very much centered all around ME.

That's right, get ready to ready for me to drool over myself, and my new growing self-love, and to let you in on all my little secrets and how I've gone about changing my perception of myself too.

It's been one hell of a ride guys.

But, here we go...

Around 3 weeks ago now, for the first time in 4 years, I just forgot to count my calories one day. Unfortunately, despite everything else I'd overcome eating disorder-wise, this had always been one habit that I could just not drop. However, since that one day where I forgot to do it, I haven't done it since, and MY LORD, do I feel free!

I thought this would be something I would have in my life forever, I thought I'd always have My Fitness Pal downloaded on my phone, and I thought I'd always be logging every calorie I had every. single. day.

But, for some reason, I just didn't go back to doing it. I didn't even bother to open that annoying little app up on my phone, or even seem to panic over that tiny calorie label on whatever I was eating... I just didn't care anymore.

I only noticed the fact I hadn't done it when it got to a week later.

I found myself listening to my body more, noticing hunger cues, feeling 'full' and knowing I was 'full'. I stopped just eating for the sake of eating. I stopped restricting or depriving myself of foods I craved. I just began to look at food very differently... and I think that's one of the best things that's ever happened to me... and I have no idea where it came from.

It's a difficult thing when I think about it really, but I don't think I ever want to go back to revolving my life around numbers again.

Over the past couple of weeks, something that has also changed, is the way that I am trying to view myself. (This is a tough one, trust me)

Sure, I'm not some tight, toned, petite and perfect model, I'm wobbly in places and have scars and stretch marks, and my body has kind of been through hell and back over the past few years, but that's MY body. MY body isn't going to suddenly turn into someone else's, no matter how much I might want it to.

I'm learning to appreciate the skin that I'm in. No, I may not love it, but I appreciate it. This body keeps me alive, keeps me going each day, and this body holds my laughter - my memories - and I have to thank it for that.

All I can do with this body is work on it, to make it a body I am comfortable with. All I can do is take the time to workout, to feed myself well and to mold it into something I am more than grateful for.

That's all I can do right now.

"To fall in love with yourself is the beginning of a life long romance."

I've been trying to remind myself of how amazing I am each day too.

This probably sounds like the most 'vain' and 'self indulgent' thing ever, but trust me, after a while, it really starts to work.

When people compliment me, I try not to brush it off... I say 'thank you' and I remind myself of that compliment when I'm feeling down or like I can't pull myself together.

I have people around me who love me, and that's been something that's been made more evident than ever over the past few weeks or so. And, well, those people love me for a reason, and I need to start loving myself for those reasons too.

So, yeah... I'm pretty amazing, ask my friends.

Getting out the house has done me wonders, or even just distracting myself with work and seeing friends - these things stop me over analyzing myself; they stop me going on a downward spiral into my self-loathing pit of despair.

Simple things like taking myself out on a little walk, or traipsing into Manchester just for my Costa Caramel Latte, have kept my mind at ease, kept my mind away from bad thoughts, and it's been good for me.

Plus, I have a re-ignited love for taking self-portraits too, and that's one thing that has really built my confidence up.

Taking great pictures of myself, looking at them and loving them is such an amazing feeling.

PLEASE DO IT TOO. IT'S SOOOO GOOD FOR THE SOUL.

Last but not least, it's actually a book that's really been a big part of my life over the past few months.

It's 'Happy - The Journal' by Fearne Cotton, and writing in it each day is such a big help with my mood and feelings.

There was one section where I had to write out a love letter to myself, all about the things I liked about 'Me'... and, honestly, it just made me realise, I'm really not that bad after all.

So, here's mine for you to read (maybe after reading this, you can write yours down too!):

"Dear Me, 

You're a brave person. You battle with a lot, and I'm proud of you for that.
I love your red hair and your freckles, and your laugh might be weird and goofy, but I wouldn't change it for the world.
You work hard and try new things, always hoping to improve yourself. I just want you to truly love yourself and everything you do one day.

You're a good person."

"Today I am unraveling, and it's all kinds of beautiful."

Okay, I Think I Love Myself


Well... if that self-indulgent title didn't give it away already, I'm just going to warn you now, this blog post is going to be very much centered all around ME.

That's right, get ready to ready for me to drool over myself, and my new growing self-love, and to let you in on all my little secrets and how I've gone about changing my perception of myself too.

It's been one hell of a ride guys.

But, here we go...

Around 3 weeks ago now, for the first time in 4 years, I just forgot to count my calories one day. Unfortunately, despite everything else I'd overcome eating disorder-wise, this had always been one habit that I could just not drop. However, since that one day where I forgot to do it, I haven't done it since, and MY LORD, do I feel free!

I thought this would be something I would have in my life forever, I thought I'd always have My Fitness Pal downloaded on my phone, and I thought I'd always be logging every calorie I had every. single. day.

But, for some reason, I just didn't go back to doing it. I didn't even bother to open that annoying little app up on my phone, or even seem to panic over that tiny calorie label on whatever I was eating... I just didn't care anymore.

I only noticed the fact I hadn't done it when it got to a week later.

I found myself listening to my body more, noticing hunger cues, feeling 'full' and knowing I was 'full'. I stopped just eating for the sake of eating. I stopped restricting or depriving myself of foods I craved. I just began to look at food very differently... and I think that's one of the best things that's ever happened to me... and I have no idea where it came from.

It's a difficult thing when I think about it really, but I don't think I ever want to go back to revolving my life around numbers again.

Over the past couple of weeks, something that has also changed, is the way that I am trying to view myself. (This is a tough one, trust me)

Sure, I'm not some tight, toned, petite and perfect model, I'm wobbly in places and have scars and stretch marks, and my body has kind of been through hell and back over the past few years, but that's MY body. MY body isn't going to suddenly turn into someone else's, no matter how much I might want it to.

I'm learning to appreciate the skin that I'm in. No, I may not love it, but I appreciate it. This body keeps me alive, keeps me going each day, and this body holds my laughter - my memories - and I have to thank it for that.

All I can do with this body is work on it, to make it a body I am comfortable with. All I can do is take the time to workout, to feed myself well and to mold it into something I am more than grateful for.

That's all I can do right now.

"To fall in love with yourself is the beginning of a life long romance."

I've been trying to remind myself of how amazing I am each day too.

This probably sounds like the most 'vain' and 'self indulgent' thing ever, but trust me, after a while, it really starts to work.

When people compliment me, I try not to brush it off... I say 'thank you' and I remind myself of that compliment when I'm feeling down or like I can't pull myself together.

I have people around me who love me, and that's been something that's been made more evident than ever over the past few weeks or so. And, well, those people love me for a reason, and I need to start loving myself for those reasons too.

So, yeah... I'm pretty amazing, ask my friends.

Getting out the house has done me wonders, or even just distracting myself with work and seeing friends - these things stop me over analyzing myself; they stop me going on a downward spiral into my self-loathing pit of despair.

Simple things like taking myself out on a little walk, or traipsing into Manchester just for my Costa Caramel Latte, have kept my mind at ease, kept my mind away from bad thoughts, and it's been good for me.

Plus, I have a re-ignited love for taking self-portraits too, and that's one thing that has really built my confidence up.

Taking great pictures of myself, looking at them and loving them is such an amazing feeling.

PLEASE DO IT TOO. IT'S SOOOO GOOD FOR THE SOUL.

Last but not least, it's actually a book that's really been a big part of my life over the past few months.

It's 'Happy - The Journal' by Fearne Cotton, and writing in it each day is such a big help with my mood and feelings.

There was one section where I had to write out a love letter to myself, all about the things I liked about 'Me'... and, honestly, it just made me realise, I'm really not that bad after all.

So, here's mine for you to read (maybe after reading this, you can write yours down too!):

"Dear Me, 

You're a brave person. You battle with a lot, and I'm proud of you for that.
I love your red hair and your freckles, and your laugh might be weird and goofy, but I wouldn't change it for the world.
You work hard and try new things, always hoping to improve yourself. I just want you to truly love yourself and everything you do one day.

You're a good person."

"Today I am unraveling, and it's all kinds of beautiful."


So here's a set of photos - a set of photos which I should probably look at and think I look really god damn hot in, and be posting all over every form of social media as my new profile picture, but, instead, I feel quite the opposite.

"When you can't hear anything over the screams inside you, maybe it's time to realize that you need to listen to your insides too."

When I look at these, all I see is weight gain. All I see is someone who I don't particularly recognize. I see someone who no longer looks the way they want to look or feels the way they want to feel.

I see an older, tireder version of me. I see a version of me that has 'let themself go', that has given into all the things she never wanted to give into. I see someone who I never thought I'd be again.

Ironically, the person who I never thought I'd be again is Me. 

I'm starting to resemble the person I was before my mental illnesses came around and that feels very very weird. I'm not used to thinking 'fuck it' about treating myself to a pizza, or going out with my friends and drinking every single weekend. I'm not used to having to squeeze my bum into a pair of jeans, rather than having everything simply slide over my bony backside and fit me no matter what. I'm not used to catching my double chin in photos or feeling like I need to lose 10 lbs.

And, honestly, I know that the only reason for feeling like that is because, before now, I have not been living my life properly, in anyway at all.

I have not been enjoying myself. I have not been doing the things I wanted to do, or being who I want to be.

And now, I am... kind of.

You see, as much as I can see myself returning to a person who I once was before my eating disorders etc., I am still not in a good place - in fact, I'm in a god damn awful place at the moment.

Sure, I'm living a more fun life, socializing, doing jobs I could never dream of, meeting with huge brands and getting to spend time with people I love, but, regardless of all of that, I still despise myself... and that consumes everything that I do.

I still hate what I look like, and that brings a big dark cloud over everything.

I still feel my body and want to cut off my fat with scissors, or dream about the day I can afford multiple surgeries and change my body for good. I still wonder what'd be like if I hadn't 'recovered' and I'd let myself get thinner and thinner, and I still painfully long for the day where I finally feel happy with myself.

I just want to like what I look like. I just want to feel thin and pretty. I just want to be confident in my body - be happy in my own skin.

But, there's something I've realised now, or at least, I'm trying to.

After yo-yo-ing from a size 16 to a size 4/6, and now an 8, no matter what size I've been, I have hated myself. I have hated and hated and hated myself, and no dress size has ever really changed that - despite what my mind is attempting to convince me.

Because, hey, sure, when I was a steady size 6, I felt good. I never had trouble fitting into clothes, I felt proud when I picked up the smallest size in the shop and I worked perfectly for most of the modelling jobs I went to. I didn't get that 'bloated' feeling and I had a big ol' gap between my thighs, which made me feel like I could rule the entire world.

I felt like I was pretty - I felt like someone who could be noticed.

But, on the other hand, everything else in my life was not perfect. I never went out the house, apart from working or a very rare night together with my friends. I never treated myself to anything I wanted, like a simple latte in a coffee shop, or a pizza at the weekend. I never pushed myself to try that many new things, and I lived the same old routine every single day. I ate the same meals at the same times, and had a repetitive workout routine that became like a religion to me.

I was happy I was thin, but I wasn't actually that happy.

Now, yes I am bigger (and as my Mum keeps telling me, not even that noticeably so, but, to me, in my head, I feel very very different). I am a size that feels alien and uncomfortable to me. I feel 'big' and 'squishy' and 'ugly' and all I want to do is be able to fit into my old size 6 jeans and not feel my boobs jiggle as I walk. I want to not have to sit crying over my double chin in a photo or worrying over the size of my thighs at castings. I want to feel 'tiny' and to thrive off of buying that XS clothing size again. I want it all back.

Yet, the thing I have in my head now is - what I keep trying to remind myself of - I'm not willing to give up all the wonderful stuff that's now in my life right that wasn't when I felt like that. I am not willing to give up my social life, the amazing castings and job offers, the greasy pizza I divulge in whilst terribly tipsy at the weekend.

I am not willing to hide myself away in my bedroom and do a boring workout routine over and over, or to eat the same regimented meal plan at the same regimented time. I am not willing to starve myself in order to reach some 'happiness' or 'perfection' that I already know isn't there - I've been there before.

I am not going to give up the freedom I have given myself and worked hard for - my stupid little eating disorders are not going to take that away from me again.

It's taking me a lot of time to build up a good mindset about this - and, trust me, I am not there yet, but I'm definitely on some kind of journey there.

Things have definitely gotten in the way of my feelings/progress; like the pill/contraceptive I've been taking, for example, but I've wanted to learn and grow from it - not let it destroy me. I haven't wanted to let my cravings for that 'skinny' feeling win over my love of a beautiful cheesy pizza *drools*.

No, I am not in a clear 'recovered' mindset right now.

I do worry that when I write pieces like this, people get convinced that I'm okay and I have my thoughts all poised and together... but I still have some big issues going on - some really shitty thoughts swimming round my brain.

But, when my friends text me and say 'let's meet for lunch' or when my someone suggests a Mcdonalds after I've drank 12 double Disaronno and Coke's in Whetherspoons on a Friday night (because, let's face it, without one I'd probably die of alcohol poisoning or something...), I don't want to be that person, sat there, denying it because I might gain a bit of weight or go over my calorie limit for the day - I want to live my freaking life.

That's what I'm going to work on.

I'm going to work on living my life - finding a way that I can live it, that works for me.

I thought I had it all figured out a few moths ago - hence my post 'Self Acceptance - I Can't Be The 'Old Me' Anymore', but I think that this is going to be a very long process - a lot longer than I thought.

Just because I've written this post doesn't mean I've got everything figured out now (which is what I thought when I wrote that last blog post). It doesn't mean I'm not going to cry over my thighs when I look in mirror, or grab my stomach and wish it would just disappear over night. It doesn't mean I'm not going to feel guilty over a bingey weekend or want to restrict my calories every now and again because I feel 'big' or 'sad' - because I WILL feel those feelings again, it's inevitable.

But, trust me, I will fight through them, as I always do. I will wake up everyday and try and love myself, even when I don't.

When I eat a cheese burger, or share some chips with my friends, I will remember to smile, not cry, because that's an achievement for me, not something I should feel bad about.

I will remember how it felt, going from psychiatrist, to psychiatrist, to doctor to doctor, talking about the dark things I used to talk about, and be grateful I am not there in that place anymore, and that I'm now living my life and giggling with my friends.

I will realise that life shouldn't be as consuming as I'm making it be. It should be full of love and happy moments - as many as you can fill it with.

"If you let the ghost of your past scare the life out of your new relationships, it will haunt you."

So yeah, I have to make a choice.

I have to decide whether I want to let this control me forever, or whether or not it's time to let the thing go.

And, just so you know... I want to let the thing go. 

That 'Skinny' Feeling Or Getting To Live My Life


So here's a set of photos - a set of photos which I should probably look at and think I look really god damn hot in, and be posting all over every form of social media as my new profile picture, but, instead, I feel quite the opposite.

"When you can't hear anything over the screams inside you, maybe it's time to realize that you need to listen to your insides too."

When I look at these, all I see is weight gain. All I see is someone who I don't particularly recognize. I see someone who no longer looks the way they want to look or feels the way they want to feel.

I see an older, tireder version of me. I see a version of me that has 'let themself go', that has given into all the things she never wanted to give into. I see someone who I never thought I'd be again.

Ironically, the person who I never thought I'd be again is Me. 

I'm starting to resemble the person I was before my mental illnesses came around and that feels very very weird. I'm not used to thinking 'fuck it' about treating myself to a pizza, or going out with my friends and drinking every single weekend. I'm not used to having to squeeze my bum into a pair of jeans, rather than having everything simply slide over my bony backside and fit me no matter what. I'm not used to catching my double chin in photos or feeling like I need to lose 10 lbs.

And, honestly, I know that the only reason for feeling like that is because, before now, I have not been living my life properly, in anyway at all.

I have not been enjoying myself. I have not been doing the things I wanted to do, or being who I want to be.

And now, I am... kind of.

You see, as much as I can see myself returning to a person who I once was before my eating disorders etc., I am still not in a good place - in fact, I'm in a god damn awful place at the moment.

Sure, I'm living a more fun life, socializing, doing jobs I could never dream of, meeting with huge brands and getting to spend time with people I love, but, regardless of all of that, I still despise myself... and that consumes everything that I do.

I still hate what I look like, and that brings a big dark cloud over everything.

I still feel my body and want to cut off my fat with scissors, or dream about the day I can afford multiple surgeries and change my body for good. I still wonder what'd be like if I hadn't 'recovered' and I'd let myself get thinner and thinner, and I still painfully long for the day where I finally feel happy with myself.

I just want to like what I look like. I just want to feel thin and pretty. I just want to be confident in my body - be happy in my own skin.

But, there's something I've realised now, or at least, I'm trying to.

After yo-yo-ing from a size 16 to a size 4/6, and now an 8, no matter what size I've been, I have hated myself. I have hated and hated and hated myself, and no dress size has ever really changed that - despite what my mind is attempting to convince me.

Because, hey, sure, when I was a steady size 6, I felt good. I never had trouble fitting into clothes, I felt proud when I picked up the smallest size in the shop and I worked perfectly for most of the modelling jobs I went to. I didn't get that 'bloated' feeling and I had a big ol' gap between my thighs, which made me feel like I could rule the entire world.

I felt like I was pretty - I felt like someone who could be noticed.

But, on the other hand, everything else in my life was not perfect. I never went out the house, apart from working or a very rare night together with my friends. I never treated myself to anything I wanted, like a simple latte in a coffee shop, or a pizza at the weekend. I never pushed myself to try that many new things, and I lived the same old routine every single day. I ate the same meals at the same times, and had a repetitive workout routine that became like a religion to me.

I was happy I was thin, but I wasn't actually that happy.

Now, yes I am bigger (and as my Mum keeps telling me, not even that noticeably so, but, to me, in my head, I feel very very different). I am a size that feels alien and uncomfortable to me. I feel 'big' and 'squishy' and 'ugly' and all I want to do is be able to fit into my old size 6 jeans and not feel my boobs jiggle as I walk. I want to not have to sit crying over my double chin in a photo or worrying over the size of my thighs at castings. I want to feel 'tiny' and to thrive off of buying that XS clothing size again. I want it all back.

Yet, the thing I have in my head now is - what I keep trying to remind myself of - I'm not willing to give up all the wonderful stuff that's now in my life right that wasn't when I felt like that. I am not willing to give up my social life, the amazing castings and job offers, the greasy pizza I divulge in whilst terribly tipsy at the weekend.

I am not willing to hide myself away in my bedroom and do a boring workout routine over and over, or to eat the same regimented meal plan at the same regimented time. I am not willing to starve myself in order to reach some 'happiness' or 'perfection' that I already know isn't there - I've been there before.

I am not going to give up the freedom I have given myself and worked hard for - my stupid little eating disorders are not going to take that away from me again.

It's taking me a lot of time to build up a good mindset about this - and, trust me, I am not there yet, but I'm definitely on some kind of journey there.

Things have definitely gotten in the way of my feelings/progress; like the pill/contraceptive I've been taking, for example, but I've wanted to learn and grow from it - not let it destroy me. I haven't wanted to let my cravings for that 'skinny' feeling win over my love of a beautiful cheesy pizza *drools*.

No, I am not in a clear 'recovered' mindset right now.

I do worry that when I write pieces like this, people get convinced that I'm okay and I have my thoughts all poised and together... but I still have some big issues going on - some really shitty thoughts swimming round my brain.

But, when my friends text me and say 'let's meet for lunch' or when my someone suggests a Mcdonalds after I've drank 12 double Disaronno and Coke's in Whetherspoons on a Friday night (because, let's face it, without one I'd probably die of alcohol poisoning or something...), I don't want to be that person, sat there, denying it because I might gain a bit of weight or go over my calorie limit for the day - I want to live my freaking life.

That's what I'm going to work on.

I'm going to work on living my life - finding a way that I can live it, that works for me.

I thought I had it all figured out a few moths ago - hence my post 'Self Acceptance - I Can't Be The 'Old Me' Anymore', but I think that this is going to be a very long process - a lot longer than I thought.

Just because I've written this post doesn't mean I've got everything figured out now (which is what I thought when I wrote that last blog post). It doesn't mean I'm not going to cry over my thighs when I look in mirror, or grab my stomach and wish it would just disappear over night. It doesn't mean I'm not going to feel guilty over a bingey weekend or want to restrict my calories every now and again because I feel 'big' or 'sad' - because I WILL feel those feelings again, it's inevitable.

But, trust me, I will fight through them, as I always do. I will wake up everyday and try and love myself, even when I don't.

When I eat a cheese burger, or share some chips with my friends, I will remember to smile, not cry, because that's an achievement for me, not something I should feel bad about.

I will remember how it felt, going from psychiatrist, to psychiatrist, to doctor to doctor, talking about the dark things I used to talk about, and be grateful I am not there in that place anymore, and that I'm now living my life and giggling with my friends.

I will realise that life shouldn't be as consuming as I'm making it be. It should be full of love and happy moments - as many as you can fill it with.

"If you let the ghost of your past scare the life out of your new relationships, it will haunt you."

So yeah, I have to make a choice.

I have to decide whether I want to let this control me forever, or whether or not it's time to let the thing go.

And, just so you know... I want to let the thing go. 

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