goodbye 2011, hello 2012 (a belated Part 2)
January 15, 2012
I guess it is fair to say that 2012 is now in full swing, being the middle of January. My end of year review has been quite late this year, usually its at the end of a year, as it should be, not the beginning of the next one. Hey ho … I am also quite late in writing a Part 2, as i felt Part 1 had gone on long enough so I though I would split it into two parts.
so, below is the last thing I want to mention about 2011 …
* I was just back reading a blog which had something written in it that has stunned me. Alot actually. In Feb 2011, I wrote ‘It has been 10 months since I last self harmed’. That in itself was massive. To now be able to sit here and write that its been over 20 months is even more massive. I dont know who reads this blog, and its fair to say I dont know your experience and your thoughts on things like self harm, however for me, it has been a very big part of my life. For a long time a very secret part of my life, something I never wanted anyone to know about, and was very careful to make sure no one did/could see. Once or twice in a few crises moments would ‘seen’ places such as my arms be affected, but on the whole I self harmed in places no one could see. It was not about attention. It was not about people knowing. It was a personal private thing. And so very hard to try and explain the release, physically and emotionally self harming gave to me. Its fair to say it hasnt been easy. Theres been some close moments! It still isnt easy, because when things get tough its often the first thought that comes into my head … maybe because it was a coping mechanism for so long … and dont get me wrong I’m not saying i’ll never go back to it. I hope i dont though. So, as to how that relates to 2011 … I’ve gone a whole date wise year without self harming. Wow.
I wanted to share the above with you because i see as being something that reflects how 2011 has been for me. There seems to have been very little ‘drama’ throughout the year, which is unusual, but what there has been in a steady continuation of the journey that I guess i could call recovery, or moving on, or whatever phrase you want to use to be honest.
Its fair to say, and I am sure I have written this before somewhere either on here or twitter, that 10 years ago I could have never imagined in my wildest dreams that life would turn out how it has done so far. I could never have imagine how tough it would/was going to get. Dont get me wrong, I was not stupid, or naieve, I knew life wasn’t a bed of roses from an early age, but equally so, I didnt think that when things were already tough, they would get even tougher, and more tougher on top of that.
I never imagined that once id been crushed into tiny little pieces, that Id then get trampled on, and turned into even smaller bits. Fragments into more fragments until there was nothing left. Who does? But it happened …
however, here I still am. And somehow surviving, and dare i say it … almost thriving?
I am on a road, a long road which i am sure is going to throw out more blows no doubt, but a road which has some sunshine on it too … i am starting to enjoy life, enjoying learning how to live again, how to laugh, how to love.
And i cant not say thank you to everyone who has been involved in my journey. People as i mentioned in my previous blog whom I dont think I could ever express truly how grateful i am to, for their love.
as for 2012 … who knows what it will bring? I dont for sure …
however, as i think about the year ahead, i think about the three new years resolutions I have made (something i never normally do ) …
they are :
1) to lose weight ( see my blog titled My name is fragmentz and I’m fat (no really I am) to see why this is SO important to me! It is something that I am going to spend alot of 2012 focussing on. My first goal is to lose 2 stone by Easter, which is roughly 2 pounds a week, and by eating sensibly, going to the gym and execising more and the help of Slimming World, I am sure i can achieve this. The bigger goal is way to huge to think about all in one go … as ideally its about 6/7 stone … i dont think i’ll reach that by the end of the year but If i could be well on the way, id be pleased.
2) to continue moving forwards … to spend more time looking into the present and forwards instead of backwards. this one is simple in words, but maybe not to simple in actual practice. My past is part of who I am . Its part of who everyone is. And i disagree hugely with the pastor who once told me that if i became a Christian my past would be erased and i’d forget it. Unless you took my brain away, or erased my memory entirely, then that aint going to happen. And why would I want that … because despite some of the horrific memories, and the things that have happened that haunt me, and even to this day appear in my sleep sometimes, why would I want to erase some of the happy memories? I dont want to erase my past. and some of the experiences are shaping who i am becoming now … shaping how I am able to support other people in their lives. For example, there is a situation with someone who I chat with regularly to, who I would not be able to walk along side and support in the way I do, if i had not experienced what I have (if that makes any sense). So, although i dont want to ‘forget’ my past i also dont want to spend more time dwelling on than living in the present or looking towards the future. I want to spend more time focussing on the here and now, and the things to come, then what has been and gone. Its something i am going to try anyway!
3) to somehow get closer to God/to learn more about God (I have no idea in what shape or form this will happen). This is a biggie. For me anyway. As I wrote before, I had some interesting experiences in 2011, including Spring Harvest. Those experiences have made me come to terms with the fact I am a Christian. Yep. I am. Even on the dark days. I am. And actually I have been for some time. But Ive just chosen to sway between good and bad days and ‘yes i believe today’ and ‘ no i dont’ … so, for 2012 I want to be more committed. To God. I dont know how this is going to look. What shape or form this will play out. But I am going to give it a go. I want to learn more about God. I want to get to know more about Him, and more of Him. I want to understand more of His will, and why He came to die, and forgive. I want to learn more about his nature. I want to continue my relationship with Him … and deepen what I already know. This is tied in with Number 2, about looking forwards and not backwards too. I want to do the same with God. I want to try and come to terms with my past and the role god has played in it, but also then to look forwards more. As i said, who knows how this will play out … maybe it wont at all. But I hope it will.
So, thats me done for now … thinking about 2012 and what its going to look like.
love
Fragz x
another year has gone … goodbye 2011, hello 2012 – Part 1
January 2, 2012
Wow, so thats it, 2011 has gone. Well and truly gone. Its the eve of the first day of 2012, and my head is still in last year. Partly I think because I worked through the night this year for the ‘New Years Eve’ so have not felt like I have truly said Goodbye to one year, and Hello to the next.
Having said that … its true to say that New Year never usually means much to me. Usually for me August signifies the end of one 12 months and the start of another, and usually at Greenbelt I have a little space and time to reflect on the old, and think of the new and go from there. I usually blog at length about it, however this year GB was a rather different weekend for me, and I didnt do the whole ‘end/start of the year’ thing.
So here I am … joining in with the trend that most people follow … at the same time as most people too … thinking about the fact that a whole year has gone by … and thinking about welcoming in another 12 months.
I dont think I’ve ever felt a year fly by so quickly before … I dont know about anyone else, but I feel like I blinked and it went.
I also don’t think I’ve ever had such a year go by that seems to have been relatively calm. Gasp. Some of you reading this will probably be agreeing totally. The last 12 months seem to have been the tamest that have been going for some time … granted, some blips and I thank wholeheartedly those people who love me and stick by me through those blips, who answer their phones any time 24/7 and who hug me when its needed, and offer me coffee when its needed, who give me wise words when its needed. Who do more than they’ll ever know to sustain me, and make me feel loved.
Anyhow … where was I ? oh yeah, 2011 … reflections of 2011 (i prefer to reflect instead of calling everything a highlight, even though many things about to be written would be considered highlights, although some wouldnt),
so, starting the ball rolling …
* Seeing Glee live !! Ok, there we go, if I have yet to admit it publicly on these pages or my tweets, I am a Gleek, uhuh. I dont care what you say … Im proud, and I had an amazing weekend in London in the middle of the year with some girly friends seeing Glee live at the 02. It was mega amazing!
* 2011 has been the year I have finally managed to win (for now) the battle with the smokes. Something I consider a huge achievement. I hope those of you who know me well stand beside me in agreeing that it is an achievement. Ive always been an adamant ’i love smoking’ person. And to be honest … having tried to stop a few times before, its been a real challenge and battle, partly because most of me didnt want to stop, and a small part of me knew I had to … (for reasons I’ll mention next). So, for the time being, and for the last 6 months or so, Ive been a non smoker, and Im adjusting to life now (it took a while to get used to a different routine, to get used to not going out with friends on breaks at work/pubs etc)
* 2011 saw me having several Asthma attacks. To someone who doesn’t (or didn’t) have Asthma, they were big shocks, and pretty scary! Two very serious ones requiring professional emergency help (NHS – I am VERY grateful!). I now have a regime of inhalers, am am monitored closely by my GP at present. A recent chest infection crippled me, and meant I ended up on steroids and really struggling. Its very hard to describe what having an asthma attack is like. Having problems with your breathing when you are in your mid twenties is a pretty scary thing. Most mornings for a while I was waking up sounding like a 90 year old woman who had smoked 100 fags a day … so being diagnosed as asthmatic contributed greatly to stopping the fags.
* April 2011 saw a pretty big milestone in the life of Fragmentz … (other than going to Spring Harvest – i know i know, but yes I really did!) April meant 3 years since I tried to die. At the time I wrote a blog which you can find here …. its been 3-years and I also very recently wrote another blog called ‘I wanted to die …’ which you can read i wanted to die Both of these blogs talk about this openly, so all I will say here is that i’ve been alive for over 3 years after I intended not to be, and I am glad i am!
* April also saw me go to Spring Harvest. Er yeah. I did. Uh huh. Thats right. Why? Erm, I am not entirely sure, apart from the fact that when I agreed to go/said I wanted to go, I had had quite a bit to drink and the person egging me didnt think I would, so being the kind to do alsorts just to prove a point found myself mooseying off to Butlins Skegness no less, over Easter to spend a week with happy clappy Christians who mostly smile and pretend that life is grand. Thankfully I was in a chalet with someone (a very groovy and cool meffodist minster) and her friend who I knew a little. They were truly two amazing woman and I had a fab week spending time with and getting to know them both much better than ever before. I also found myself incredibly challenged. I found the entire week a challenge, but not in the way I was expecting. I had gone expecting to spend the week wound up and annoyed by peoples smiles, cringeworthy stories and optimism and a general ‘lets all be christians for a week and forget the real world exists’. I expected to somewhere along the way get into a row with someone over their theology, and to walk out of a talk/meeting after getting so pissed off I just wanted to go and smoke (I was still smoking at that point, leading to a hilarious moment of leaving my chalet to go for a fag and getting locked out therefor having to track down friends in the big top whilst wearing my funky bright butterfly pyjamas … well they found it funny anyway). I half expected to go home halfway through the week to be honest. However, and I wish I had blogged about this at the time really as I could write forever on it … all of my expectations were smashed. I met some superbly down to earth normal people, who were very willing to debate and argue out (rationally) their views whilst understanding my points of view and not just casting me as someone who does not understand. I engaged with some intelligent people who were willing (including SH leadership people) to chat/discuss/think about things on my level, and I found the Zone concept brilliance. I went almost daily to the ‘discuss and debate’ zone, and although the group was small, Jools I think his name was, the guy leading that space was brilliant. I also had the joy of meeting Rob GT who I tweeted with for a while, and that was great too. Two other things stand out for me about Spring Harvest. The first was that every morning (not being a good early riser) Id stay in the chalet doing my make up, having a cuppa and a smoke (out the door of course) whilst being able to listen to the morning preacher do his thang via the tv screens they stream into your accommodation. The guy Malcolm Duncan is a legend. I dont really know who he is, or where he is from to be honest, I do follow him vaguely on twitter now, and had never heard of him before, however he was witty, funny, engaging, and most of all honest. I liked his willingness to engage with the 3000 plus people if not more? by having a ‘text number’ and then using the first part of his time slot to discuss/answer questions and thoughts that people would text in from the day before/on the topic he was preaching on. I thought this was great and a real gem of a way to engage a) with technology and b) not set himself a part as such from the people he was teaching. Anyway, I remember listening one morning to some of the questions, and one came up … that someone had texted in to him the night before … and I honestly dont recall what the question even was … thats the irrelevant bit to be honest, what I do remember though, is him standing there in front of his little book holder thingy (what do you call those things they put their notes on?) and saying ‘I dont know’ … I nearly spat out my tea. Hes the preacher right. Dont they know everything? (ok, so I know they dont know everything but isnt that the usual perception that is given about these people? ) So, to hear this guy on a big stage simply say ‘ i dont know’ to something was, for me, astonishing. and Refreshing. I was like ‘yesssss’ at last! someone at one of these events who is normal! and down to earth, and willing to not speak out of his arse to satisfy people who would expect him to know. He didnt. He was honest. And left it at that. The other thing that left a lasting impression on me about Spring Harvest was the fact that they appeared to, for some topics at least, have people leading talks/seminars who knew what they were on about. I mean, who really knew what they were on about. I attended the seminar that was being run on mental health issues. As most of you know these issues are close to my heart. And I had been bet a tenner by a friend that I would not stay for the whole of it, because I’d get annoyed by the usual ‘christian’ response that gets bandied about when it comes to such things as this like ‘just pray’, ‘you need saving’ ‘have more faith’ and so on … Thing is, that these things are usually addressed by a well meaning person who is perhaps speaking because they have church authority behind them. By that I mean, they are probably a church leader/minister/pastor or someone with some kind of title which makes them important and therfor able to have an opinion on everything and anything. What I found refreshing about the Mental Health one I attended was how sensitively and well done it was actually done (I stayed for it all!). The speaker, who, oddly, in fact very oddly I turned out to know from a previous life, of when I used to volunteer for the youth/young adults stream at another christian weekend event in Lincoln (years and years ago i might add!!) was Dr Roger Bretherton. A very well qualified physchologist. Who lectures at a local Uni on the topic. And who is obviously also a Christian. It meant so much to hear him talk on the realities of life with mental health illness, and the normal stuff, as well as bringing in the spiritual/christian element in a very non judgemental way. I went away with lots of food for thought. All in all SH was a huge week for me because it challenged me. It challenged my attitude. My attitude towards God, other Christians, learning, my life, my past and my future. I really hope I am able to make it in 2012 – (sorry for the essay there about SH!)
* 2011 also saw various other things happen such as meeting Dan, who bless his heart didnt turn out to be Mr Right, despite his insistence. Thankfully after a few difficult and interesting moments with that story he got the message.
* 2011 saw me change jobs, wahooo. I still work for the same company, at the same place/site, with the same patients, however I am now the Activities Co Ordinator and cover alot of the Pastoral Care that takes place in my work place with the patients we care for who are all very ill and nearing the end of their lives. Its an incredibly challenging role, that often has many ups and downs, and can be very emotional however after spending quite a few years as a team leader there, working many hours/shifts and having much responsibility I am enjoying the freedom of regular hours, most weekends off and being able to have quality time doing what I love – communicating and trying to ensure people have the best quality of life possible.
There have been many many other moments I could document about 2011 such as getting to know lots and lots of new people, meeting new people, getting to know people I already knew but just much better.
When I started to write this, I didnt think I would have enough to fill out one blog, let alone run out of time and space to fit everything in … I hope your still awake and have not fallen asleep yet !!!
there is more to write about the last year and I also want to write about some thoughts ive had on the year ahead too … but I think I am going to do this in two parts … so for now, I’m signing out, but I’ll be back soon with Part 2
xx
i wanted to die …
November 29, 2011
my name is fragmentz … and as well as being fat (see a previous post) there was a time in my life when I wanted to die.
A few times in fact … but one very clear time that I will never forget about … when there was no other option than to die. That one time was more than ‘wishing’ or spending time planning or thinking about … this one time was about acting on that wish to go.
obviously … here i stand, by the grace of God if you believe in Him (which I do) or by sheer luck or fortune if you dont. So for me, it didnt work. And at the time … I was gutted. Devastated. Some people have the view that if you dont ‘successfully’ kill your self when you try then you didnt really mean to do it, and that you were just crying out for help. I disagree with that whilst acknowledging that for some people that may be the case. For me it wasnt. I had tried the call for help. Numerous times. I had tried many many things. I had gone beyond wanting help. I wanted release. The end.
Why am I writing about this? Again, some of you may say, as I have written one or two blogs over the last few years about my experience. The reason is because I can. And for that, now, I am thankful.
Why am i writing about this today/tonight? That would be because since Sunday all day and today I have been reading some very beautiful writings by some beautiful people about a beautiful person. Gary Speed. A former football player turned manager. Who sadly committed suicide so it would seem over the weekend. I dont know Gary, in fact I know very little about him, other than his job role and family status, oh and the fact it would seem there was something very dark going inside of his life that not many if any people knew about. This past week has also seen the apparent suicide of Angie Dowds, a celebrity fitness trainer, known for her role as a joint trainer on the UK version of ‘The Biggest Loser’ … a determined, strong and inspiring person to many. She also, for some reason, and who may ever know the real reasons why, felt there was no other option left to her other than to die.
So, the internet has been awash with tributes/tweets/blogs/reflections/thoughts. Its been over the news, over facebook, over the twittersphere. Famous people, celebrities, friends, family, fans and other folk have all come out to pay their respects. To give humbling and heartfelt reactions to the deaths of people who meant much to them.
And of course … the topic of mental health … depression / suicide has been bought to the front of peoples minds. Its been very interesting seeing it happen. Seeing the discussion, the empathy, support, the kind thoughts, and well meaning comments to the families effected by these two peoples passing, but also the whole on the topic of people wanting to kill themselves.
I whole heartedly advocate talking about it. And it feels uncomfortable to say but it has been heartwarming to see the responses of such tragedies. People not shoving it under the carpet.
I was touched hugely by the article Stan Colleymore released via his twitter … click here to read his thoughts . A very brave peice and I admire him greatly for putting it out there.
A few years ago, there was a documentary on the television about depression in the sporting industry and I remember writing at the time how indiscriminate mental health illness truly is. How indiscriminate depression truly is. How at any time it can surround any person. Rich, Famous, Poor, Not Famous, Fat, Think, Black, Green, White, Mothers, Daughters, Professionals, Sons, Fathers. Anyone. The list is endless. It could be anyone. It could be you.
It was me. And how life changing has it been. I am never going to be as poetic and eloquent in my words as some of the other blogs I have seen and read over the last 48 hours whatsoever, I am not even going to try. I dont think right now its needed particularly as so many other people are doing such a good job of describing their experiences.
I tweeted earlier on today this ‘Some really beautiful blogs and tributes bring written since the sad news of Gary speeds death … But please please don’t just move on from The topic of depression/suicide/mental health as soon as it leaves the front pages coz his family/friends and anyone else effected by the Sadness and life changing/wrecking illnesses won’t. They don’t and won’t go away for the many millions out there who suffer daily’
And I suppose that is what is on my heart/in my mind this evening as I write this … depression is such a far wider thing that what we sometimes imagine it to be. It effects more than the person who has the illness. It effects so many different people, and even after maybe the final act is committed, for those people that isn’t the end. At I guess part of me feels that right now, this topic is being discussed hugely, probably because its effecting the famous the publicised, the people who make it into the papers (I am not intending this to offend whatsoever so apologies if it does to anyone) and that no doubt, as the headlines fade away so will the discussion … or the majority of the discussion, because for some of us there is always the discussion (there are some amazing mental health bloggers/writers out there).
But it doesn’t fade away for the millions of people who are out there struggling tonight. as I write this, it does not fade away for the people who go to sleep this evening wishing that they didn’t have to wake up in the morning.
It does not fade away for me. Yes, I am alive, yes I have come a long way from what is almost four years ago, from the time when I went to sleep having hurt my self significantly to not wake up again … (trust me, it was a shock when i did).
And I am glad I did. Wake up. I am glad that I have amazing people in my life who stand by my side as I walk this journey of learning to live again, learning how love, how to laugh, how to enjoy life. Some days are good. Some are not. The not days however are not as bad as they were. For now. But I live under the cloud .. all the time, as do many millions out there … the cloud of depression, of mental health illness. The cloud of being precariously balanced on a ledge of normality waiting for it to spike, to go into overdrive, or waiting for it to tilt the other way into a pit of despair that one can only claw to try and get out of … its my hope and prayer that I never have to experience how bad life was then again … but who knows? Because its so much more than just ‘being sad because …’ or ‘having a bad day …’.
I really want to encourage people who have been moved by the death of a sports personality, or anyone and RIP dear Gary to have the courage to continue the thinking of mental health, and how you see it. How you are affected by it. How you engage with it?
Keep the conversation going … because it needs to be talked about. It needs to become less of a stigma and the only way that can happen is through awareness and people continuing to speak out, write about it, be honest/open and make it the very real thing that it is.
Please.
Remember, Remember … the 11th of November.
November 14, 2011
Remember remember … remember remember … the 5 th of November. Such popular saying. Regarding the day when we set off an obscene amount of fireworks and stand in the freezing cold going oooh, ahhh, eee, or maybe even oww if your lighting them or the bonfires and get it wrong …
However, I think we should change the Remember Remember saying to Remember Remember the 11th of November.
The 11th of November is Armistice Day. Remembrance Day. And the Sunday nearest to that is Remembrance Sunday. And as I sit writing this blog, it is the end of the day that has been Remembrance Sunday. The 11th has been and gone, and now has the Sunday too.
Every year I write a blog around this time, mostly on the day, or very soon after. Obviously this year its shortly after. Why do I feel so compelled always to try and put some words into a post, and attempt to pretend I know what I am talking about?
I am a huge advocate in Remembrance Day. A huge advocate of poppy wearing. A huge advocate of red poppies. A huge advocate of people taking time to think about and remember the cost the people who have gone before have paid.
As I have written before and always write and say … this is not about politics. Politics are for another day. The other 364 days that there are in a year, and which are used very well by al sorts of people to debate/discuss/agree and disagree with war. Politics are for those days. Not for the 11th of November. Regardless of what religion you are, regardless of what culture you come from, what your identity is, who you are, and what you believe in.
you can find my previous blogs on this topics at please remember them and thank you which talk a little bit more about why this is important to me, and some of my experiences of working with the elderly around this time.
You dont have to agree with someone or something to show some respect for the loss of something very important. And to me, in this case, on Remembrance Day that loss is the loss of life. All loss of life that has happened due to war.
The past few years I have had the privilige of being able to go and mark the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month in town, by the local memorial with local people and local men and woman who have fought in past past wars and men and woman who are currently in services and spend their lives in conflict now. Its always very emotional, and poignant.
This year I had to work, however had the huge honour of ensuring all the people I care for who were unable to get a Poppy had one if they wished. It was an honour to lead staff into gathering all together with some of the people we look after, and observe the 2 minute silence. Let me tell you, it was humbling to stand in the midst of a very busy unit, with 20 or so members of staff, nurses, carers, domestic staff, chefs/cooks and of course our elderly patients and see/hear it fall silent as the chimes of Big Ben (we used the TV as our guide) chimed.
I always get teary eyed.
Why? Because to me, loss of life is sad. The loss of soldiers lives is sad. The loss of children caught up in zones they didnt want be caught up in is sad. The every day man and woman going about their business when their God calls them home. That is sad. It is sad that children are growing up without their parents, and that could have easily been me (both my parents served in the forces). Children are growing up without a mother, a father, a brother, a sister. It is sad that a father and mother bury their own children. It sad that wives lose the person they thought they would grow old with. It is sad that healthy, normal everyday people with a job to do, go and do that job and take huge risk and pay the ultimate price. It is sad that someone can kiss their beloveds goodbye in the morning, and never again return to their home. It is sad that all of the above applies to people/families in the military, but also to the civilians in their villages/towns and cities.
To me , whether or not I agree with war or not it is all sad.
And those people who have died, solder or not deserve our thoughts. Our respect.
I could write and write on the effects these tragic events have had on our history. And how it effects each and every one of us right now. And that in many ways, especially previous wars their loss has been to our advantage. For those people who have died gave their todays for our tomorrows. And personally I am thankful for that.
That is why I proudly wear a poppy. A red one.In memory of those dead, those who are dying and those who are still caught up in the midst. In memory of the people I have known and not known.
Because the poppy is a symbol, of the blood that has been shed. Then, and now.
It is not and should not be a political statement. Wearing a red poppy is not saying I agree with war. It isnt saying I dont.
It is saying that I am remembering and going to remember those lives lost and the cost they paid.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
my name is Fragmentz and im fat (no, really, i am)
October 18, 2011
my name is Fragmentz and im fat … (no, really, i am).
its been a while since i’ve written a blog, hope this update finds i still have people who read. and i also hope that you are all well.
ive titled this post the way i have because its the truth. I am fragmentz. and i am fat. the no really part of the title refers to the many people over the years who have turned round and said ‘no, your not fat’ or ‘dont say that about your self’ … all people who mean well, and who think i am just being hard against myself, which is something i have a good talent at doing.
however, the thing is … i really am fat. no, i am not an anorexic who just thinks i am. i am just fat.
ive recently realised how high my BMI is, and that in the space of 3 months ish, i have put on nearly a stone. a stone on top of the too many i already own. i always knew my bmi was high … of course i did … but i never could have imagined how high.
I had to buy a new top recently for something i was attending, and ive never had to buy such big clothes in my life.
over the last few years i have seen a few programmes on the television, about people who are so big weight wise that they have become labels such as ‘half ton dad’ or ’60 stone mother’ or whatever … and although I am not exactly 60 stone, or half a ton … i am fat. i weigh alot. i am ‘morbidly obese’. i am a walking heart attack. i am a walking health hazard. i could drop dead any minute and they would probably blame it on my weight. in fact, people probably look at me and blame everything on my weight.
and i could end up ultimately like some of those people on these documentaries.
now, dont get me wrong … being fat does not stop me doing stuff particularly. i dont need two seats on a coach, or am unable to put on my own shoes etc … but it does stop me from many other things.
it stops my ability to be healthy, to think about food properly, to exercise sensibly, to do things that normal fit people would do, like run, jog, walk miles. all things which dont worry me too much because not everyone does anyway right? fat or not.
however something it stops me from doing is forming relationships. with the opposite sex. in a romantic way.
it also stops me feeling good about myself. it feeds into the ability i have to tell myself how ugly i am, and why would anyone ever want to be interested in me, looking the way i do.
it stops me buying the clothes i want to, and feeling like i look nice.
the battle of my weight is raging. big time. it has done for many many years … but never more so than now. where i stand at my biggest ever.
and i have mostly done it to myself. i have eaten too much food. i have eaten the wrong foods. i have eaten at the wrong times. i have not taken any care what so ever of my body and what i have been putting into it. i have not taken properly the medications i should be taking to deal with an underactive thyroid (which can aid you in gaining weight – the underactive thryoid that is, not the medications!). i have used food as a comfort. i have seen food as a friend. i have had an unhealthy ability to binge but forget to throw it all back up, each and every time.
why? because i think i feel like i deserve to be fat. i know no other way of living. and that i couldnt possibly look after myself, because i inherently believed that i didnt deserve that.
and it stops unwanted attention. at the very heart of it, it stops people looking at me. in fact, now i am realising it dosnt, because people still look at you, but go ‘eugh, i wouldnt touch that’ … but i can cope with people saying bad things about me or at me … after all thats how life rolls right? what is harder is to accept people saying nice things …
its hard to accept people saying you look nice … if the outfit you wear is good, its hard to hear people say ‘your hair looks nice’.
and over the years its been easier to make myself look a way that causes people to generally be un nice than any other option.
its what i have wanted. its what works with my level of self confidence. and when i was very very unwell with depression, it just fed into that even more …
when i was so unable to even contemplate life being worth living, which some of you may know about, and some of you may not … i was pretty much incapable of thinking about much, especially about myself in a positive way. and so my eating habits and my weight were not an issue. after all, i wanted to die anyway, so whether i died skinny/thin/healthy or fat didnt really matter did it?
thing is … that was a little while ago now … and i am not saying i dont struggle with depression … of course i do … but the desperate feeling of darkness, of being in a hole so deep there was no way of getting out of it has moved away a little …
i am learning to live again, i am learning to laugh again, i am learning to smile, and do stuff i enjoy, and accept that maybe, somehow in the mess that i call my life … maybe there is a bit of hope. it takes a long time … and i still find the pitfalls … the bumps in the road that knock me back a bit
but i am so thankful to have some amazing friends and people around me who support me in that … and see me through it.
i am learning that there is hope. i am learning to have faith. i am learning that life isnt all about ‘survival’.
and so to that end … because for me, right now, life isnt just about ‘getting through’ and surviving I feel I have the ability to focus a little bit on other things. Maybe on things that could improve my life. the life i have right now, and am living. because actually, it aint so bad … really, it aint so bad to still be here.
but what could make it better … and make myself happier is to lose some weight.
i aint planning on getting to size 6, as if that would ever happen … but i can take steps and be proactive in losing weight, becoming slimmer, and in the process a healthier and fitter person.
so, i have joined a diet plan. slimming world to be precise. i am going back to the gym.
and i am determined to try and lose weight. i am determined to eat healthier. to not stop eating, as if that would ever happen either … but to diet in a sensible way.
the target is 5 stone. the plan was to do that in a year. i dont know if thats too high or not. i wont be upset if i dont reach that.
its time to try hard to unravel some of the damage i have done to my body over the years.
its going to be a long haul. i know that. big time.
so bear with me. when i moan. when i groan. when i tweet or blog about not being bothered. because actually i am.
when i say ‘i dont care if i am fat or not’ i do.
when i say ‘its ok what you look like or what weight you are’ i dont mean that about myself. i genuinely mean that about people who are genuinely unaffected by their sizes … but actually i kid myself by saying those things … because its easier to put on the brave face then to face the reality of life being fat. its easier to joke, be jolly … and say im happy and size shouldnt matter. because actually it does … deep down it does … to me, about me
*i am not talking about anyone else and their weight and how they should feel or be, whatsoever, as i am aware everyone feels and sees this issue differently*
i once sat in the staff room chatting to a group of people. everyone was doing the typical ‘it doesnt matter what weight you are’ talk … and one person, who over the years has become a friend just spoke out loudly and said ‘i think it does’ … everyone stopped and started to argue with her. her point however was simply put … it does matter if it matters to the person themself who is fat.
and however much i deny it, which i am good at .. it matters to me.
so, this is the start of another journey in my life (just think how boring it would be if there wasnt SOMETHING going on eh!)
a journey to get myself trimmer, slimmer and healthier.
heres hoping huh!
my love affair with twitter ended over the weekend. you might laugh, but seriously, since i joined twitter a few years ago I have had positive experiences. thats not to say i was naive enough not to think that people spouted whatever they wanted to on their feeds. however, this weekend when the news was bought that amy winehouse had passed away, it also bought a host of tweets and retweets that i found so sad to read. sad to see and be so aware of the lack of sympathy/knowledge/empathy that the life of a relatively young person, in fact, in the same age range as i am, is dead.
I am aware that some people may say, and have already been saying ‘but there are more important things happening in the world …’ well, its true that there are OTHER things happening in the world, but when did we as humans become limited to only caring about and being sad for one thing at a time? surely we have enough heart in us to be able to express emotion on alsorts at one time? people are suggesting that tweeting/news outriding the Norway attacks meant that people dont care about the horrific tragic events in that country also over the weekend. I beg to differ. I’d like to suggest that the norway incidences had been in the news long before the breaking new of any winehouse’s death was. however, since when did it become a competition? just because someone has tweeted a ‘sadness’ about the death of such a talented yet troubled person does not mean they dont care about africa/somalia, norway, hackgate or anything else thats been thrown out there.
there has been some vitriol out there the last few days. which has been so sad to read. and its tempted to me to blog my self on this topic. and as always, as i start to write i give you a disclaimer. i tell you i am not a professional, i have no qualifications and do not profess to have some ‘important’ view that people should listen to. I dont.
what i do offer, and what most of my writing does come from, is the experience of life. and of that i seem to have plenty. so i am told anyway. the experience of having a family member affected by the demon that is drug and alcohol abuse. i write from the experience of growing up around it, being surrounded by it, and having some of the days of my life that were supposed to be happy ones, unhappy. i write of the experience of the ‘phone call’ that russell brand was so eloquently writing about in his blog article today. the phone call you spend your life expecting, hoping that it is from the person themselves begging for help, wanting help to turn their life around, but mostly it being phone calls of devastation when you are told that person is n o longer alive. For me, so far the phone calls we have had are ones that have turned our ives upside down, the ones from the person who wants money, has no food, gets abusive, or calls to say he has been arrested/in hospital or the various other ones that have happened. It hasnt yet been the one to say they have died … but you spend your life expecting it.
so, i am sure when mitch winehouse and his family received ‘that phonecall’ although it was a shock because who would have expected it that particular time and day … maybe it was not so unexpected. it definitely wasnt in the public despite some peoples reactions. because drug and alcohol addiction is a killer. assuming thats what she has died of. because of course, as of yet, no one is quite sure, are they as no cause has been released? it would be fair to suspect it is very highly that drugs played a part however.
despite the horrible tweets i have read, i have also been humbled by others, for example @lesanto who is a local ish person to me, who i have yet to meet sadly, but who has also lived the life of waiting for ‘that phonecall’ and sadly who did receive it, the final one, to tell him the sad news of the death of his young son. do check out his twitter account @lesanto as he does have something to say on it all, and he knows.
as usual, i started out with an idea of what i wanted to write on this blog, and it seems to have changed as i ramble on. but i guess what i really wanted to suggest/ask/plead for is some compassion. some empathy. and for people who have no idea about it to stop being so callous and to maybe speak to people who have first hand experience.
amy winehouse did not deserve to die. personally i believe she was unwell. as unwell as someone with a mental health illness, or someone who has broken their leg and who needed crutches. who knows why she was so unwell. some one on facebook suggested it was because of her ‘poor background and upbringing’. that tends to often be a response doesnt it … the ‘oh she didnt have a chance’ but as far as i have read, she didnt have that poor an upbringing. she got through stage school didnt she? now i am not professing to know much about her background, but i think its a pretty poor show when it is assumed that someone is an addict ‘just because of their upbringing’. i am sure many people would back me up on disputing that.
as i have written before, about mental health illness being so indiscrimate, i truly believe addiction can affect anyone also, and anytime for any reason. the rich, the poor, the common, the posh, the black, the white, the famous, the every day guy, the employed, the unemployed, married, single, loved, unloved. it can hit anyone.
and it is not just the person who it ruins the life of. its the mothers, the fathers, the sisters, the brothers, the friends.
the people who are there for every minute of the trauma, the people who are there to take the abuse often, or to desperately try and get them into rehabs, help, support, the people who pick up the pieces every time, the people who dearly love them, but who wake up every day wondering if this will be the day when it all ends.
some tweets suggest that, for example, no one cared about amy winehouse. i dont think that could be further from the truth. as her song would suggest, they did try to make her go to rehab. and she did actually. but it just wasnt meant to be.
a few years ago my mother told me about the time she sent my older brother off to a different country for a ‘backpacking’ time. some would suggest that was a bad decision, but she was at the end of her tether. not getting any help or support from anywhere, no funds for rehab, no funds for anything really, despite pleading, and someone in a different country who could look out for him. it was a gamble, he would either go out there and make the most of it, or he wouldnt. my mother waved him off at the air port, and expected to never see him again. we are lucky, we did see him again. and do see him again. but there often isnt a day that goes by where we/i wonder if we will get ‘that phone call’.
there is so much more i could write about the effects of drusg and alcohol on a person, and on a family, but it would turn into an essay which isnt what i want.
one of the twitter responses of late has been ‘they should just kick the habit’ … which is said by people who truly have no understanding of ‘the habit’ or just quite how it affects life/lives.
i think what i want is to ask people to have some more compassion for those who have such broken and hurting lives for whatever reason. please. and to not publish comments that are hurtful when you know nothing abotut what you talk about.
RIP Amy Winehouse, Nimai Le Santo and all the other victims of substance abuse, and thoughts and prayers with those and families suffering from it today x
lets talk about … rape. Part 2
May 18, 2011
i woke up this morning … and little did i know, that by the end of the day i would be blogging about a topic i have already written about once. I always intended on writing a Part 2, and in fact had a draft already typed, but thats deleted now. I’m starting over, because this week, the word ‘rape’ has been front page of most media types due to some french bloke i’d never heard of until his arrest for allegedly raping a hotel maid, and now comments made today by the justice minister.
two things i’d like to start off by saying :
first one is: this blog is about RAPE. As i start writing, I have dont have any idea of where my writing will go, but i feel it fair to warn you of the topic nature, if you hadnt picked it up by the title, so if your sensitive to it, or it potentially could trigger you, consider yourself warned.
second thing is: i am not a profressional. I dont write for a living, i dont have any academic qualifications that give me a right to have an opinion, i’m not a ‘well known’ person who’s opinion matters to people. i’m just me. a little dot in this huge world who takes some space, and attempts to write about issues that mean the most to me. i write about my life, and the life that goes on around me. I am perhaps not going to be writing anything any different to the many blogs always written, lots today by people. i definitely not able to express words and thoughts as eloquently as the things I have read today.
if you want some background and an idea as to why i am writing about this topic, now, then please feel free to check out ‘lets talk about … rape’ – link is below.
in my previous blog i gave some definitions of the word rape. essentially it is imposing sexual intercourse on someone who does not consent. that could be a man against a man, a woman against a man, woman against a woman, and the most widely talked about variation of a man against a woman. it is really really important to acknowledge that all variations exist, and do happen, and that rape as a whole is so very under reported anyway, and so by default some of the variations, for example males being raped are even less reported, but still happen.
Last week I got embroiled into an argument on facebook. as some of you will know, getting into debates/disagreements with people on social networking sites such as FB or twitter is not a rare occurance for Fragz, although lately the occasions have become much less. Anyhow, last week, someone who is on my facebook, and an odd exception to the ‘i only have people i’ve met on my FB account’ rule, posted the most offensive thing i have ever read my friends post. I am used to people updating status’s with stuff i dont agree with, lame jokes, filthy stories about whatever, however i have never been so offended by anything as the status that said ‘i’m sorry, but woman should take responsibility for being raped, after all men are men arent they’. WHAT? When I dared to totally disagree with this line of thought, i was told i was mis hearing what was being said. I disputed that too. I was not mishearing what was being said, i was simply disagreeing. I heard what was being said. I just didnt like. I still dont. This person’s argument was that if a skantily dressed woman is raped then they should accept some esponsibility, especially if they walk around looking like prostitutes (their response, not mine!!). Their trying to condone their thoughts just seemed to make it worse, because in my view, it is not acceptable for a non sex worker to be raped, and it isnt acceptable for a sex worker to be either. end of.
I was blown away and stunned by the response this status got, and the fact i was the only person arguing a womans right to say NO, and that ‘men being men’ is NOT an acceptable reason for raping someone.
Rape is rape. Whether you are out having a drink, whether you have gone to a dance, whether your walking home at night, or in the day. Whether you spend your time on the streets, or whether you meet someone for the first time while out and get chatting. Whatever the situation, whatever happens, if you DO NOT WANT SEX and someone forces you too, in my mind that is rape.
There is no ‘serious’, ‘more serious’ or ‘less serious’ rape, as has been suggested by Ken Clarke, the justice minister no less today.
I am aware some people will be saying that his comments were taken out of context, some will be saying, including himself that this current media storm is ‘spin’, however, my own view is, that if he didnt feel/think what he said, then why say it? he knows the position he holds, he knows he is talking to the media, he knows what he says is going to be reported. he says he knows that rape is rape, but to be honest, does he really? someone who says rape is rape, AFTER suggesting there are more serious ‘rapes’ than others, and who is also suggesting sentences for convicted rapists are cut, doesnt seem to have a clue, does he?
I am not sure that he really understands the effects on a person, a woman, a man, a child, who is raped. the life changing, heart breaking, never going to be the same effect is has.
I’d like to invite Ken Clarke to live the life of a survivor of rape. Maybe to live the first 5 years of their life or longer after the event. To live through the pain, hurt, anger, desprair, self loathing, blame, nothingness, dirtiness, the depression, the flashbacks, the nightmares, the tears, the sleepless nights, the fear of going outside, reliving time and time again what happened. Maybe he would like to live a life with feelings, that for some never go away. For some, maybe the moving on can happen, but where the memories never leave. memories that are always there, even if not in forefront of a mind, memories that are never far away, ready to come flooding back at the click of a finger. maybe a smell, a sense, something that triggers the mind to flood back the memories.
Maybe he would then understand that rape is rape, whether it was violent or not.
I am unable to do this topic justice, really. I just get sidetracked. So I’d like to recommend, if your interested, two beautifully written articles, one by Johann Hari, and one by Laurie Pennie.
johann hari – the prejudices that allow rapists to go free
laurie penny – ken clarke comments rape
both blogs express eloquently what i wish and want to, but am unable to.
Dear Blog, and Everyone who reads/follows …
I am sorry I have been so crap at writing recently.
I am alive.
I will write, very very soon.
Lots a Love
Fragz x
its been 3 years.
April 11, 2011
I have no idea where this post is going, but, anyway …
my life is full of milestones. lots of them. lots of ‘its been x amount of years since this … or that’
today is one of those milestone days.
its been 3 years since i tried to take my own life. and failed miserably (well, at the time it was miserable failure)
i got my dates a little confused last week, with something else, but having clarified with my faithful old journal, today is the day. 3 years ago. wow. where have those 3 years gone? sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday, sometimes it feels like it was a long time ago.
and what an immense journey it has been. the journey beforehand was immense anyway, so i guess its been extra immense since.
Sometimes i try to put into words just how incredibly hard the last 5 years of my life have been. And i am never quite sure if i have managed to do it justice, or whether or not i just come across like some whining woman. I hope i dont. Something I think about quite often is how 5 years ago I had no idea how life was going to roll for the next set of 5 years. Same with 10 years ago. Who knew that 10 years ago the roller coaster ride of my life would bring me to this point.
Who could ever have imagined that when you are already at the very bottom, end of the rope, struggling to hang on anyway, that life could get 100 % worse. That one moment life meant one thing, and the next moment it meant another. I was already unwell, struggling with childhood memories, abuse, self harm, faith and God, big time, and then came the assault.
I wrote in a blog once, this blog, some time ago, about feeling like a glass vase, being broken in to pieces. And then each piece of glass being broken even more, into tiny shards. The smallest bits, until there were no bits left, just dust, sprinkled all over the floor, for people to trample on. Thats how i felt. It was all too much. Too too much.
i had to do something. to get out of it. on reflection, i now feel guilty. i didnt leave anything, for anyone. my head was in a spin. i was being irrational. even to this day, some very close family members do not know, because it would hurt them too much to.
I could not see any other way, i felt like life would be better with out life. i already had no life, so what was the point in breathing? I felt like everyone elses life would be better without me in it. i was too messed up, too complicated, too many issues, too much hurt/pain, too much for anyone to do anything with.
so i tried to die.
it didnt work. now i say that thankfully! it didnt work. i do believe here by the grace of god i stand (the story of how i was found is a whole other blog for another time)
thing is, its fair to say, despite it all, there were people who were able to do something with me. people who loved me. who cared.
who helped me pick myself up off the floor, and slowly turned the dust back into shards, and then into fragments. Ever so slowly and lovingly teaching me that life can be worth something. that life IS worth something. that I am worth something.
its been a long ride, and one that isnt over yet. but 3 years on and life is slowly turning. I am learning to live with myself, and some of the pain. I am learning to laugh again, to smile again, to have fun again. i am learning that I am never going to forget the past, but there is a way, and a time to move on from it. to not be beholden to it. that doesnt mean i dont have my dark days. i do. nights when i cant sleep because the nightmares have kept me awake, or i am so restless because something has triggered a memory. however, the intensity of it all isnt as intense. I dont want to die because of it!
the last thing to say that i am learning to do again, is to love and accept love. i am learning to love people and life again and accept that people and life love me.
I would like to say such a deep huge and heartfelt thank you to all of the people involved in my life the last however many years.
You have all had a part to play in the fact I am still here now. Thankyou.
thank you for everything you have done and do for me. you really have and do make a difference.
lots of love
fragz xx
Dear Dad.
March 1, 2011
I have been reading an old hand written diary. One I wrote roughly three years ago. In about 6 weeks time, I will be celebrating a 3 year milestone in my life, and so I thought it time to read back at how life was three years ago. How I felt, and what I was writing. Three years ago, I was a mess. A bigger one than I sometimes am now! Life was a big struggle, in fact, everything had collapsed. The letter below, I wrote, to my biological father. I wrote it the same weekend I decided I couldn’t live any more. Its very poignant to read back. To read this back. Its also poignant for me to publish it. For some of you to read. Because it signifies moving on. For me anyway. A couple of years ago, about a year or so after I wrote this, I met him. For the first time in many years. It was an incredibly emotional experience. However everything I’ve written below still stands. I never sent the letter. He has never read it. Maybe if I was to write another one now, it would be a little different. Life has changed over three years, however the hurts are often still around somewhere nearby. They never go far.
I have so much inside of me, that is never going to be said to you. So much that I want to say and so much that I just want to put at your feet. But I never will. I will probably never let you know how much you hurt me when you walked out that day. When you left that day, I was only young. A small child, but do you what one of my earliest chilldhood memories was? You. Walking out. I even remember which way your huge motorbike turned as you went out of the driveway. I have never been able to admit out loud, in voice how much that actually hurts. How much it hurts to have no happy memories of you. The summer holidays we had to endure with you were hell. Did you know that? Did you know that when you were beating me that day, in that room, my brother, your son was learning from you. Do you know that he then went on to copy you? When you were not there. Do you know that? Do you give a damn? I think not. Do you know how every word you spoke made me cry inside. Every single nasty word. Yeah, I smiled, at you and everyone else, laughed it off. Promised to try and change. Be a better, different person. But I did wonder whether even being a different little girl would have made you happy. I tried so hard to be everything you wanted me to be but every time I reached a goal you would knock it down. And how do you still have the ability to do that? Even now? Even now, while I am an adult you have this power to knock me down to the ground with your words. Do you know how much my heart used to cry because you were not there? And then how much my heart used to cry when you were there, for those 2 weeks of the year because of your behaviour and action. Did it ever occur to you how much harm it did for me to stand at that window that day while you had my brother in the garden? Did it occur to you what you were doing to my brother and I? I doubt it. How could you.
Will you ever know how much pain I then had to endure with my brother? My darling brother. Who couldnt cope with your behaviour towards him. Who turned to drink and drugs to blot out the memories of you. Who do you then think took the blows when his anger let out? That would have been me. So, I was at school, and being bullied there, and then I would go home and be bullied there too. Bullied at home is probably a tame way of saying what happened. Bruised, beaten and hurt are prbably the words that describe it best. Will you ever know how hard it was to live at home, taking it from my brother, as he let rip? And where do you think he learnt/got that from? Where did he learn to hit, smack, punch, burn, taunt and spit out words that will probably never go away from my memory?
Do you know how hard I tried to please you? How hard I tried to please everyone? And did it ever work? You will never know that as I sit writing this, the tears fall. The tears I have never cried. The tears you believe show weakness. I have spent so long being strong, not crying, because what would it do? Change everything? Make it all better? I doubt that very much. But does anyone care? Do you? Again, I think not. I usually doubt you even loved us at all. Maybe we just an inconvenience.
I dont know what it is I have to do to make you proud. To make you love me. Sometimes I ask myself why it even matters. Why you even matter. And I wish I knew. I wish I could explain.
I have never said this to anyone, and I don’t know if I ever will be able to say it to your face, but do you know how angry and frustrated I sometimes feel. Sad, angry and hurt with you, at you and your behaviour. Why couldn’t you or don’t you love us? I know I am not good enough but isn’t a fathers love suppose to not be about that? Were you not supposed to love us no matter what? Why do you disappear from my life for months on end, and then when I am finally coming to terms with you not being in contact you ring or email. Sometimes I long and long to hear from you, but then when I do I cry.
