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Leigha is a married mother of two young girls and a Toronto blogger. To read more from Leigha, you can check it out here WWW.LIVINGLAVIDALEIGHA.COM
Trigger Warning
Image Credit: UnSplash
Throughout my life, I have struggled with perfectionism.
The clothing in my closet had to be organized and arranged in a systematic and precise way, divided by colours, texture, and seasons. The books on my shelves had to be sorted by author, subject and year. I would spend hours shaping my external environment to be meticulously spotless.
Image Credit: Delia Xenophontos
Too many people suffering from mental illness feel alone, embarrassed, and guilty because of the stigma attached to it. In honour of World Mental Health Day, I’m sharing my story to remind all those suffering that it’s okay not to be okay.
Image Credit: photo provided by the author.
In Jewish mourning tradition, it is customary for the next of kin to request memorial donations
for a cause important to their loved one. This tangible offering of tzedakah (righteous giving) connects the loved one to the mourners, their family, friends and community in an act of tikkun olam (repairing the world). When my mother died this February past, choosing an organization to honour her memory created an inner whirlpool that still spins inside my heart.
How do I gain control? How do I make my world stop spinning? I stopped eating. I learned that I could control what went into my body and what came out. It was the first time in my life I felt like I had something that I owned, something that was all mine.
On this week's blog, an annonymous blogger tells her story of how ED took over her life, and how she learned how to tell the eating disorder voice to SHUT UP!
Photo Credit: Dave Martyn
TRIGGER WARNING: the following material may be triggering for some individuals - please read with caution.
It was like walking into shadows for all those years, at first I fought it, wrestled with it, then let myself sink deeper down and gave into all those urges and destructions that ran through me. My entire life feels like one big waiting game. Waiting for death; waiting for life to begin; waiting for help; waiting for people to leave me alone; waiting to be saved.
TRIGGER WARNING: the following material may be triggering for some individuals - please read with caution.
Over the past four years I have been admitted to treatment six times, had my parents bail me out of jail four times, ruined countless relationships, and lost faith in myself. Not only have I been in a decade long battle with anorexia, I also developed an addiction to alcohol in my early twenties.
If we were all programmed with the same exact genes, experiences and interpretations, I suppose globalized beauty ideals would be adequate goals to reach if they represented all of us. But, do they? Well, what beauty ideals do represent and where they come from have numerous theories, which all seem to have a valid point to make.
Beauty depends on the angle from which it is explained. It involves attraction to posses, hold, value or admire attributes that are recognized in oneself or elsewhere, whether it is a landscape or a face.
So, what’s in a plan, anyway?
In short – the answer is NOTHING. But, it took me a while to realize and fully understand this.
I thought that my plans defined me, and when I deviated from them it automatically meant failure; as a person, in my beliefs, and every part of my being. My plans were what made me proud, made me feel like I was successful, and made me feel complete.
I was watching my doctor type when my heart dropped. Around her already slim wrist, just under the sleeve of her white lab coat, was a black Fitbit.
I felt physically sick.
I’ve seen my GP for a few months now and overall I really liked her. She listened to my needs, didn’t have the fake “concerned” face when I described my struggles, and laughed when I made stupid jokes. But seeing this Fitbit? I started to re-evaluate everything.
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