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I have wanted to come back for a little while. So much has happened since my last post. Work colleagues mostly, a trial run with a boy from an app. Arthur, Francis, Gregory, Vincent, Russell, Simon R. Shoes that didn't fit. There are pages about them of course, not here, but in notebooks and scribbles on my phone written on my tube commute. Some indifference, some annihilation, all part of my continual journey.

In February, I met Thomas, and the turn began. We began dating in April, I was labelled his girlfriend in August, and he is the kindest man I have ever let into my life.

I went to Bali in March. Like the healing of the Nile, the energy pulsed deep into my cells and blood and I have not let it go yet. The vibrations of the gong still echoing in my ears, the sunrise still glowing in my heart, the peace and tranquillity in the silent hum of those green fields... I came back with a deep, divine knowledge, that I treasure, every time I am close to forgetting.

And now, I am train…
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"Here I am, sane and dry"

"I stayed there, staring at myself in the glass. What do I want to cry about?.... On the contrary, it's when l am quite sane like this, when I have had a couple of extra drinks and am quite sane, that I realize how lucky I am.
Saved, rescued, fished-up, half drowned, out of the deep, dark river, dry clothes, hair shampooed and set. Nobody would know I had ever been in it. Except, of course, that there always remains something. Yes, there always remains something....Never mind, here I am, sane and dry, with my place to hide in. What more do I want?....I'm a bit of an automaton, but sane, surely - dry, cold and sane. Now I have forgotten about dark streets, dark rivers, the pain, the struggle and the drowning...."
Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight

Love. Sick.

And finally, today, I cried; soaked the tissues and pillowcase like I had been longing to do for weeks. The most I had been able to manage recently had been dry crying with a scrunched up face and aching heart. Such relief now to be able to physically release emotions other than vomit.

What words do I use to write about the last few weeks? Crippling, torturous anxiety, studying for finance exams, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting, seeing Gareth, fucking Gareth, hating Gareth, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting. Overcome by the fear and confusion and heartache. Studying for finance exams, but really just exercising and bingeing and vomiting.

The exams are done now and I have been free from those chains for a week - definitely alleviating a great deal of the pressure from my mental crumbling. I was close to slipping back under into the darkness. The darkness of having complete loss of control, complete loss of everything to the sickness in my brain.
days …


We both knew what we wanted - of that there is absolutely no doubt.
We didn't have to say anything, from the start of the week, right up until the point where I was naked in his bed; we both knew.
About two weeks ago Gareth and a few of our colleagues had arranged to have a night out this Friday. We had a pretty tight knit group of 6 who often lunched together at work, but this was one of the few times we were actually going out together. From Monday Gareth was pestering me like he had before:  "Are you coming out on Friday, are we going out out, are we gonna have a big one..."  "Yes", I had replied, "of course." And I booked my waxing appointment and blowdry for Friday lunch, my mind made up about what I wanted.  I had been thinking what would I regret more; sleeping with him or not sleeping with him. I decided on the latter. I'd not been with anyone since Joe left in January and more than that, thoughts of Gareth were continually running through…

"Just another stage - pageant the pain away"

"People always leave." That's what I'd told my therapist in one of our last sessions together. "Men always leave. They will die or leave you for someone or something else. That's what I've seen from my life."

There was never a man standing by my side to hold my hand or look after me. Even now I make it clear that is neither what I expect or even want from a relationship. I've never been anybody's little princess. I could never be. The thought of someone looking after me and doting on me and treating me 'like a princess' feels so wrong. It feels WRONG?!  I want to be an equal. I want to split the bill for dinner. I don't want to feel owned or controlled in any way. I want to know that he isn't weak and needy. Because however weak and needy I am, I will never, ever display that side to him. 
And that's where it goes wrong. Sure Gareth knows I have issues with food and how I look (note: 'issues' not bulimia). But the…

"Feeling 22, acting 17"

Except at 26, neither feeling 22 nor acting 17 is okay.

All the secrets I have to keep.

I can't tell anyone what I did last night. Except the whole world here, with my anonymous face.

Because I know I should be ashamed.

All week I had been thinking about Gareth. Thinking, longing, dreaming - at the expense of my work and my sanity.
But the strangest thing happened to my eating. No binges, no starving, no vomiting, just level-headed control. Was it the faux joy?

We spoke every day: whatsapp, office messenger, lunches in the bank restaurant and 'meetings' in the bank coffee shop, sessions in the gym and runs along embankment. No sense for being sensible and holding back, getting closer and closer. I wanted to be closer and closer. I kept thinking about having my hands on him. Fuck him. Fuck him for literally putting those thoughts firmly in my mind. And damn me for going back to being the fuck up I'd suppressed for so long.

It's no coincidence that my one-…

...good things come to those who wait

Funny, the way things work out.

I got sick of waiting for Josh to text me, so on Wednesday I tracked him down on facebook, added him, messaged him, and set up a date for next Friday.
Life is SO much simpler when the woman takes initiative.

Gareth - the hot 22 year old working in my department - is also one of my best friends at the bank, so obviously I'd been discussing the situation with Josh with him a great deal. On the few occasions when I'd been out in a bar or club together with Gareth and other work mates, the sexual tension been between us had been unbearable. However, considering the fact that he has a girlfriend and I also knew he was sleeping with a girl in another department of the bank, I stayed well enough alone. Since the time we were in Cargo a month ago though things had gotten more tense - he'd been keen to keep going out (with other work people too of course) and I'd kept pushing back for fear that the next time would be the time we overstepped the …