RETROSPECT

I took a break.
'I didn't intend to but as it turns out being reported to social services wasn't exactly a laugh and a half and it left me feeling confused and vulnerable. Something so malicious, using my children as ammunition is a rough thing to experience. So I took a step back to reevaluate.
It also turns out that I stand by what I said before, I am not backing down to bullies. Never again. And I'm teaching my children the same.
Recently the world has been rocked by bullies. So many people have been killed by ignorant, selfish individuals that I have been aching with the world as it tries to recover.
I believe that we should all stand up to ignorance, we should stand up to bullies and strive for better. Strive to open the eyes of the ignorant before people get hurt.
And I was left with the question; what on earth I should do?Because my belief system is one thing but my fierce protection as a mother is another thing entirely. And I want to put an end to bullying, I want to teach my children not to lie down at the feet of bullies but to stand up and say "No! You cannot do this to me" but then, someone targeted me and used my children to do so and the fear that people will use children in such a way and so flippantly scares me. I was scared. I was angry.
Man I was so angry.
And my emotions kept me holding back. My fear held me back.
As a mother if someone threatens your children you will do anything you can to stop them and for me that was stepping away, shutting up and not speaking out.
But this is what I do.
This is a huge part of who I am and I am immensely proud of that.
And now not only can I talk about everything that pops up in my mind, I can honestly talk about my recovery. Recovery is lonely and isolating and bloody rough.
I can talk about that honestly.

So I'm back.
I'm back here.
I'm back on YouTube.
And I've reimagined and vaguely restructured my Instagram (hllylzbth not holz105).
Because I am entitled to do so.
My voice has worth.
I am worthy.
And absolutely no one is allowed to bully me into submission.

I strive to be an example for my children.
And this is me standing up, dusting myself off and carrying on.

EASTER TWENTY SIXTEEN

We had a relatively eventful Easter period planned. Between Easter bonnet parades, theatre trips and outings to museums to see some dinosaurs the plan was to be pretty go-go-go. Until Dylan got sick. And then he got sicker and I wondered if I should haul him to the doctors office (impossible over Easter weekend by the way), then Isla got sick too. Dylan missed his last three days of school, Easter bonnet parade included (I cried internally), Isla made it through school before she was completely struck down on Good Friday.

We made it though our Saturday morning dance classes and cafe hangs which while I should probably have left to let the, rest the family time together as Harrison actually joined us this week was lovely. Not to mention special,unexpected moments that made me want to start weeping in the dance studio.

                           

By Saturday evening I was sick. And then I realised that the children weren't sick they had the flu. Because I have the flu. (FYI - going to the theatre with the flu isn't great fun. Kinky Boots on the other hand is flawless.)
So it comes to today, Easter Sunday and we skipped the church visit we had planned and struggled up to my mums house to celebrate. I had planned to take some photos, especially as I got a little drunk on Christmas and forgot to take those photos. But today I have the flu and I just about kept my eyes open so I've forgiven myself for leaving the photos.
I did get these though. Even though they aren't well. Even though we all have the flu (not Harrison though) they have a light within them and they shine light within me.

I hope all of you who celebrate Easter had a blessed weekend of celebration and to those who don't I hope you had a wonderful weekend of enjoying whatever you choice to enjoy.

DEAR ISLA

It's been so long since I last wrote to you this way that it feels as though I'm writing about a different child. I'm not, of course. You've just grown and changed so much over the last year or so that I struggle to even remember how you were before now. It's funny how that happens, with time all the milestones and stages blend into one and it seems impossible to imagine you being any way other than you are now and harder still to imagine a future you. Although now I think that may also be because your future is a little more uncertain than we thought now.

Recently we got some news. I'm inclined to say bad news but upon reflection I've decided that all news is just news neither good nor bad and our own take on it will dictate how we feel about it. I don't want to feel bad and I don't want you to feel bad so by any reasonable logic I should lead by example. While it's still to be made official at your recently neurology appointment you were diagnosed with diplegia and that leaves us with as many questions as the appointment answered. Some of them about the diagnosis itself and what it actually means but mostly about what it all means for you and your future.
As a parent I've been worrying about your future since you were just a blurry little spec being pointed out to me by a sonographer (and if I'm honest I'm not sure I could even make you out despite smiling and nodding along happily). And despite the fact that we've spent over a year now knowing that something was wrong (again! I'm starting to dislike my limitations within the English language. I'm so negative!) we didn't know what or why or how and it was very easy to hide behind your progress in physiotherapy and ignore the prospect of it being long term. Because long term presents itself as a worry for your future and most importantly for your happiness.
And now I've found myself talking about this when our year has been full of so much more, our days are full of so much more. Although in a way also shaped by your disability.

You go to nursery now, your paediatrician suggested it and wrote the relevant paperwork to get you this special place. Your disability gained you this opportunity but it doesn't hold you back in the slightest. You've been making friends in a way that fills my heart with so much joy when I witness it. You run and play with them and they slow down for you if you start to fall behind, the give you extra chances to kick balls and more time and patience while you climb the slide. They behave differently with you but only so they can treat you as an equal. Maybe I'm looking too far into it because you're all only two, but I see it, and it warms my heart.
This is something that we've worried about, me and your dad. We worry about you being left out or left behind or made to feel different as if there's something wrong with that. But between you and your new friends you give me the confidence that I've been struggling to find within myself.

You, my darling girl. You're so strong willed and resilient. You emit so much life and energy every day, exploring the world and challenging yourself. Pushing yourself to keep fighting to do what you want. When you wanted to dance you danced and twirled until you could do it without falling over. When you wanted to run you picked yourself back up over and over again until you could chase after your brother, and although you still can't catch him you never stop trying. You're learning to swim and jump and both are progressing far faster than I had expected and I know that that has nothing to do with me. Of course I'm here, always. And of course I'm holding your hand if you need me and I'll always be giving you support and encouragement but it's your will, your determination and your passion that are propelling you forward.
And you're moving forward swiftly in your own direction, which is currently swayed towards glitter, wands, tutu's, princesses (Elsa and Anna in particular), singing and lots of jewellery. I'll admit this is not exactly what I envisioned when I pictured having a daughter, I still can't do a French braid and buying dresses adorned with Elsa's face makes me weep a little internally. And yet watching you bloom I know that I wouldn't change a single thing.

When we got our news I cried because it wasn't fair. I cried for the opportunities that you may not have and the dreams that may be squashed before they can develop because limitations can dictate reality. I was sad for you and oh so angry at myself because I want to give you the world and I had failed you.
I'm still sad, because it is sad news although we still don't really know what it all means. But I know I have no reason to cry anymore. You are who you are and your are fabulous. And if I took away your disability I'd take away all the parts of you that you've built within yourself to push past it. I'd lose the parts of you that inspire me, give me hope and make me so unbelievably proud every day.

I'll love you always

Mummy

WHAT CAME FIRST - MENTAL ADJ. OR MENTAL ILLNESS?

I should sleep more. But I suppose if I did I wouldn't come up with highly interesting and somewhat amusing questions like that. Although maybe that's a good thing because a) I'm pretty sure I am the only person who finds my own humour amusing and b) questions like that keep up all night trying to answer them. Either way I thought of it and have been turning it over in my mind and on Google and unless I'm missing something obvious I still don't have an answer.
But that's unimportant really, just a (not very) witty way to start a post that I hope people will like because right now I'm going through a short phase of uncertainty and need validation from someone other than my children who are apt to telling me that I am awesome and amazing because I've bought them a Kinder egg. I suppose it also led to the thought process I'm currently toying with, what comes first? In relation to my mental health.
I have a number of mental health problems listed in my medical records. I actually saw it all the other day during an appointment and I had no idea that some psychiatrist or other at some point in my adult life had decided I'm on the spectrum of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Who knew? (Answer: not me).
Over the last few years I've noticed how my various disorders intertwine and a bad episode of one can easily result in a bad episode of another.

For instance, last year the first disorder to rear its ugly head was depression, in full force, absolutely out of nowhere. Quickly followed by crippling anxiety. The struggle was far more than real. Every day I felt like I was dragging my body along as if it were a corpse and the only break in the crushing depression that felt like it was a heavy weight suffocating me was anxiety and its corresponding panic attacks that genuinely did suffocate me because I couldn't breathe. While struggling to cope with the overwhelming emotions I fell into the obsessive and ritualistic cleaning and organising as a way to create some sense of order in my world that was suddenly complete chaos. At the same time the reckless spending and evening bottle of wine amped up, which at the time I rationalised as perfectly normal things that people do to cope. However while this is true, people often turn to alcohol or materialism to cheer themselves up, I am not people. I am a person with a personality disorder and these things are not nothing, they are the starting point of reckless behaviour that damages myself and those I love if I don't confront it. Which is difficult because when my borderline comes out to play I struggle lots with dissociation. It's difficult to hold yourself accountable or even recognise the extent of a problem when half the time your body feels like a car and you've suddenly handed the wheel over to someone else and climbed into the back seat (or sometimes the boot depending on the day). I don't know if lucky is the right term although I continue to use it regardless, before my BPD had the time to become what it could and has done in the past I stopped eating.
Being in recovery from an eating disorder is a long old slog. I have been diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa - purging subtype. It's been a long time since I received my initial diagnosis (thirteen years to be exact) and longer still since I actually developed my eating disorder. And since then my life has been in part a journey of fighting it. It's long, hard and doesn't have any certainties even when I feel like I'm in the clear. Last year when I stopped eating I wasn't even aware of stopping. And by the time I realised I had stopped I had also rationalised reasons why it was a perfectly ok thing to do, for now. Despite being in recovery and actually doing very well (have you guys seen the muscles on some of my yoga pictures? #hollydoesyoga) eating still brought anxiety and guilt with it at almost every meal time. And as my anxiety was spiralling out of control it relieved some of it by not facing that daily challenge. That was probably the most rational thought in regards to my mental health for a long time. In part utterly ridiculous, but it made sense.
So within a month I had gone sort of loopy. One disorder either masking or triggering the next. My borderline an unwelcome symptom of my declining mental stability, my anorexia and OCD symptoms I was grasping onto to cope with my anxiety and depression. And as the year went on they overlapped more and more until I wasn't really at all sure if my sudden bouts of anxiety were a product of the initial anxiety or if they were coming from my borderline, and the same with my depression.

It's all well and good being able to map it all out on paper or screen like this where it almost makes sense if you read it a few times over. But when it comes to treatment I'm left with a problem. That question, what comes first? In a way my wellbeing depends on it. Because it's all well and good treating a symptom but if I don't tackle the cause then I'll be back at square one faster than I care to think about.
And it's not just last year that I'm considering. Maybe because I'm just curious or maybe it really does matter, I'm unsure about that too (I'm planning on hashing it out with my psychiatrist) but despite the fact that my anorexia was the first of the list to present itself diagnostically what if that was because I was predisposed to it because of another mental illness that I just hadn't been diagnosed with yet?

They say eating disorders come hand in hand with both depression and anxiety and science dictates that if you starve yourself you'll feel pretty crap and your brain will go a bit wonky. But not everyone starts with their eating disorder as their first diagnosis. I've also noticed that eating disorders and personality disorders seem to go hand in hand a lot. Or at least people claim they do (more on that later).
I often feel like the mistreatment of my body, the behaviours and rituals I adopt due to my anorexia mirror those I fall into when I have a particularly bad episode with my personality disorder. So then I wonder, did I only develop anorexia as a symptom of something else? Is that why I've been fighting this fight for so long? Because I haven't been treating the cause, just a symptom? Am I essentially putting a little Peppa Pig plaster on an open wound and expecting it to heal?
On the other hand I may just be making excuses.

But now I'm faced with decisions about my recovery. This is the first time I've been given the chance to properly discuss my options and it's a heavy burden to carry sometimes because I want to get it right. I need to get it right. Right now, despite my weight I am fighting against going into an eating disorder specific route of treatment. And of course that raises questions about my motives, and I won't lie, I don't want to gain weight. The thought terrifies me, and I have had genuine dreams of suffocating in fat.
But the thought of leaving the people I love scares me more. The thought of an NG tube scares me far more than eating does and that scares me a lot. So no, I'll admit it, I don't want to gain weight, but that's not why I don't want to go down that road.
I'm fighting because this time I truly believe that the anorexia didn't come first and at least in this case I have absolute and concrete evidence of that. And regardless of my weight, regardless of it being my first diagnosis tackling it first will leave me out in the cold and possibly/probably worse off than I already am.
How does an anorexic with untreated borderline personality disorder react to gaining (a lot of) weight? Answer: Badly. So, so badly.
And I don't want to go there thank you very much.

So this is where I am. I'm hedging my bets on a question I don't really know the answer to but I'm willing to risk it. I wager that I might know my own mind better than anyone outside of my skull and while I have the clarity and opportunity to be part of the (very important) decision making I shall do just that.
For the most part I'm back in the drivers seat as of the last two months and it's tiring but a lot better than being in the boot. (Remember the: my body is like is car analogy I made at the start before this post made your brain fall out of your ears?)

I've also decided that the mental vs mental question will probably join my list of things that bug me so much I don't sleep at night.
The current top of that list is
What came first orange (colour) or orange (fruit)? And was orange even a word before those two things?



Also isn't it really lazy that they didn't think of a different word for whichever came second?

DEAR DYLAN

I've noticed that I've been so caught up in life that I haven't taken the time to sit and write recently. Living our lives is such a whirlwind these days that by the time you and Isla are asleep I can hardly keep my head up.

You turned three! And we had such an amazing weekend, so full of excitement and love, with your first birthday party where you invited your friends and enjoyed their company as we enjoyed the company of our friends and family.

Your party theme was pretty telling to how we spend most of our days now. Firemen!

You love Fireman Sam with a fierce passion that surprises most people you meet. You have all the engines and characters now, in fact our house is overflowing with fire engines of various different sizes and designs and most of your games revolve around some form of rescue.

Last week your friends next door had a fire in their house! I marvelled at your compassion, although there were thirty fire fighters right outside our window your first thought went to your friends. 

"I hope Sam and Elvis saved my friend Mummy"

Of course they did, we spotted them playing across the road safe as can be, and once assured they were fine you couldn't keep your eyes off the engines and fire fighters. They even invited you outside to talk to them and explore one of their fire trucks!

Days like that don't come around often, most of the time we spend out days exploring the world around us, crafting, shopping, going to playgroup, ballet or the park and running as fast as you can. And those days, normal days are amazing. Watching you learn and run and find excitement and freedom fills my heart with joy. And watching you embrace your sister as part of you life makes my heart feel like it could burst.

You're kind to her and mostly patient, even when she crawls over and ruins your games.

You share your toys (mostly) and her food and want to teach her everything that you know. She loves you so much, every time she spots you she makes a beeline for you. 

Watching your love for each other is beautiful. 

Right now we're waiting for the next step. 

We're waiting for your passport so we can go on holiday.

We're waiting for the confirmation of your place in your new nursery.

And we're waiting for the summer to finally come and stay so we can run wild in the woods and parks and meet new friends.

So far three has been kind to us. Although we're only a few weeks in you already seem bigger and more grown up.

Each year I learn so much more with you and about you. This year is set to bring a lot of change and I'm ready to hold your hand through it all.

love always

Mummy x

DEAR DYLAN

I realised the other day that you'll be starting proper nursery this year. I say proper nursery because this one is actually part of a school, the school you'll hopefully be in for many years to come.

How have we reached this point? Where has the time gone?

Over the Christmas period this year you've suddenly learnt so much. You can name your shapes, animals and colours and you can count to twelve! It's no wonder you're sleeping so much now. 

Speaking of Christmas, you were such a joy to watch this year. You understood the stories we told you about Father Christmas and his reindeer and told everyone you could about what you were askng for and how the big man in red would come down your chimney and that you would leave him some Christmas pudding. We actually left him milky tea and biscuits this year because mummy forgot to buy the proper treats (oops).

You've suddenly blossomed into the most amazing child. You're the top of your ballet class, you're even moving up to the next grade next term! Your learnt to draw (and paint) people with heads and limbs in the right places and you love to help with cooking, pouring and cutting things with me and naming the different ingredients as we go.

My favourite thing is to watch you with Isla. You think I don't notice yu whispering to her but I do and it warms my heart to watch. 

You've handed down one of your amber necklaces to help her feel more balanced and replaced it with your own amethyst necklace.

You help when she cries, telling her things are ok and bringing her toys. And you love to have her sit with you which helps her learn to sit up by herself.

This year so much will happen, not just nursery.

I have plans for all of us that I'm so excited to watch you experience. Aaa

This year you turn three (only five months!) and you've already requested your fireman party.

I'm so proud to be your mother, to watch you grow and learn and become the amazing little boy that you are.

Love forever 

Mummy x

DEAR ISLA

I meant to write more often. To track your growth and development, to show you off.

But life gets in the way.

Watching you grow and develop is far more important than writing it down, although I wish I had.

You're five months old now and those five months have been a whirlwind. You've grown so much that I look at photos of you taken just a few months ago and it shocks me.

You've just had your first Christmas and despite it going completely over your head you were very spoilt. Dylan understands Christmas now, he's been trying up explain it to you to along with so many other things.

Sometimes I catch him sitting with you talking in whispers and my heart feels so full. 

You won't remember any of these moments and neither will he. It's probable that I'll forget most of them too because there's always new memories forming with every day. But for now it's so wonderful to watch. 

I'm shocked sometimes when I realise you've been a part of our lives for almost half a year, that in no time at all you'll be crawling, then walking and talking. 

For now you're on the brink of learning everything. You're a centimeter away from rolling and sitting up by yourself, much like your brother it seems like despite being slightly late to gain some small skills you're going to figure them all out at the same time quite out of the blue. It's strange how similar you are to him in some ways.

You're interested in everything around you, your reactions to things makes smile on a daily basis, as does your smile.

My heart is so full when you smile which happens so much.

I can't imagine life without you in it, in fact it's hard to picture out home being any other way and even if I could picture it, I never would.

Love always 

Mummy x