What if I love myself today?

I’ve spent so many years telling myself “I’ll be happy when……”. A big thing I would always tell myself is that once I’d lost weight I’d love myself so much more and be filled with happiness. So I did it, I lost weight and got to my ideal weight. I went to the gym every day for an hour, sometimes twice a day. Lifted heavy weights, did squats and got the body I’d always dreamt of. But I would still look in the mirror and not love myself. For me this was the worst part, everything I’d dreamt of as an overweight teenager I now had. It’s funny because everyday I would go to the gym, but if I weighed 0.1lb more than I did the day before I would feel disgusted with myself looking in the mirror and convince myself that people were looking at me because I was so fat and disgusting. I’ve spent years of my life trapped in a cycle of hating myself and not liking who was, always telling myself if I was just perfect I would be able to love myself finally.

So today I thought, what if I loved myself today? What if instead of feeling disgusted at myself I thanked my body for all the years it’s spent functioning, despite me never loving or appreciating it the way I should have. Telling yourself you’ll love yourself when something has changed in your life will mean the love you have for yourself is conditional. Often I’ve dreamt of someone meeting and loving me in an unconditional way, but how can I ever have the love I deserve if I don’t love myself? And if someone does love me unconditionally, when I don’t love myself in the same way my self-worth will always be determined by how others treat me. It makes me sad to think of all the times I’ve got something good and heard the voice in my brain tell me I don’t deserve anything good. Loving yourself doesn’t mean you think you’re better than anyone or that you’re shallow. It just means telling yourself, that you are worthy and beautiful and deserve to be happy. Life is about being grateful and I am grateful for the body that I have been gifted with. It’s taken me so long to realise that no matter if I am 240lbs or 120 lbs, my body is doing an amazing job. Protecting and loving me, healing me when I bleed and growing, even when I haven’t looked after it. I’ve struggled with self-love for so long, but I really feel as though I am turning a page. It doesn’t meant I’ll love myself completely when I wake up tomorrow. But day by day, I will be working towards it. Healing your soul and mind is often a long process and it’s easy to lose yourself at times. All I can say is be patient with yourself and give yourself the love and advice you would give your dearest friend. Often we can be so unkind to ourselves and not notice.

I hope who ever is reading this post is in good health. If thing aren’t going great at the moment remember, even your worst days can only last 24 hours. Feel free to e-mail/contact me if you need someone to talk to and thanks for reading.

-Ellie 🙂

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and so she stopped singing in the shower

Singing in the shower has always been one of my favourite parts of the day. If I could, I’d spend my whole day singing along to cheesy songs and dancing about in my pyjamas. But last week I just stood in the shower, the music played but my lips didn’t even attempt to move. I knew I hadn’t been feeling the best, but then I realised things were about to get bad again.

When I say bad I mean my depression was getting worse. For me, depression is more than sadness. It’s smiling with your lips, but never with your eyes. It’s the darkness in the sky at night, when you realise how truly alone you are. It’s watching days pass, but nothing gets better or changes. It’s dragging your feet out of bed and feeling like there is not a drop of life in you or your body. It’s trying to convince yourself that there is a purpose and that things are going to get better, but not believing a single word of it. It’s your friends not knowing where you are for weeks, sometimes months at a time. But it happens so often that people have stopped looking or wondering about you. It’s looking at the hollow shell of the human you’ve become in disgust, realising no one could ever hate you more than you hate yourself. It’s fantasising about ending it all, thinking of the perfect way to do it. It’s writing letters to your family and friend, in case you actually find the courage to.

So I’ve come to realise perhaps I’m not as o.k as I convince myself I am. When my psychiatrist asks if I’m planning to end my life, I smile at her and reassure her that the idea hasn’t entered my brain. A part of me hopes she’ll see through my smile and tell me she know’s it’s a lie. But in reality I’m just another name and she’s so overworked that I don’t think the thought even enters her brain. Or is that I’m just so convincing? My whole family are convinced, heck so are my friends. They think I’m some thrill seeker who disappears on adventures, in reality I just lock myself up in my house and then reappear with perfectly applied makeup and an even faker smile. I’m becoming convinced people ask you if you’re o.k, but don’t really want to know if you’re not.

So then I ask myself, do I drop the act or keep pretending. How long can I keep this up and how long can I keep it together? I mean honestly, the reason I don’t ask for help is the fact that I’m scared. If I open up to someone and they don’t care anyway I think that would push me over the edge. Sounds stupid, but my friends and family are my only hope in my mind. A bit, like a secret weapon which I’ll only ever use out of sheer desperation.

But for now, goodbye until my next post. Thank you for reading, I enjoy writing out my feelings. It helps me put things into context better, I know I’m going to be o.k. It’s just sometimes I feel like I’m trying to climb a plastic rope that is covered in oil.

Until next time

Ellie