A Head Full of Beauty

Well, I got the job. I spent the last three weeks living and breathing the company and the role, preparing myself completely for the onslaught of interviews. Every spare moment pouring over economics textbooks, business journals and newspapers, paperbacks and online resources. I did everything I could to get that job. I sat on the train on my journey home with my eyes closed and sent my thoughts up to the sky please let me get it, please, please I start in 4 weeks, straight after I finish at the school. Right back in the centre of the City of London. where I belong . where I can thrive, work hard and play hard back to my best whatever that best is I got the call to say I'd been offered the job in the middle of my therapy session. I was overjoyed. My therapist congratulated me. We talked about the incredible progress I had made. We talked about the end... We decided that my last session will be the week before I start my new job. The sun was shining outside, I felt invin...

I have a final interview on Monday for the company I desperately want to work for. Final round interview. Role play business meeting and pitch. Less than a year ago - seven months ago in fact, I was sitting in a bitterly cold, dark London suburb. I wanted to die. I wanted to feel pain. I wanted the body I hated so much to be ripped apart, ripped to shreds. I binged and threw up, binged and threw up, binged and threw up... I felt nothing else other than the desire for pain and death. I do not feel like that anymore. In fact I cannot even put myself into that headspace. I do not want to die. I no longer have that deadly chilling sadness running through my blood. A few moments ago I lay in my bathroom cured up in a ball on the floor. A floor splattered with blood and vomit. Every time I coughed up food my nose began to bleed. I had to get every last morsel out, bending as far over as I could until I was almost bent double. Again. Again. Again. Fuck you. Fuck you YOU MONSTER. I h...