A Head Full of Beauty

I must start off first of all, I suppose, with a remark: You will see now, in the top right hand corner, my little award. I... well, I... it meant a lot. I'm reading a fantastic book at the moment: The Golden Notebook  by a wonderful British author called Doris Lessing. I had never heard of her until she was mentioned on a programme chronicling the great British authors on television recently - I made a list of all the ones which sounded interesting - this book was top of the list. I had recently finished reading Rebecca by Daphne DuMaurier - what a remarkable, all-consuming book. It became a necessity for me - I used it on my commutes to and from work, craving to just be taken away for those two hours a day, completely consumed in that world, that world of yearning. I could smell the fresh woodland of Manderley and the pure salt air of the sea... I could feel the chills of Mrs DeWinter - yes it was a book of feeling - wonderful feeling! It took me away from London, they gre...

I haven't logged on since I wrote my last post three weeks ago. I think I thought it was my last post. It would have been a nice note to end on wouldn't it. I want to thank you for all your kind and positive comments. I will find the time to comment back I promise. The first thing I noticed when I logged back in was the number of followers I have. 456. Four hundred and fifty-six people thought my words were worth following. I'd never really thought about what an extensive number that is. Of course I can't leave. And I can't leave for many reasons - this blog is like blood letting. Take that to mean everything that blood letting can do and for every reason that it is done. But more than that, this blog gives me a connection to people who understand me, people with the same wires crossed in their brain, the same creatures crawling underneath their skin, the same heart beating the same desires to the same rhythm... I'm part of a community and a family whe...

I wanted to try and get away. Everything has been hard. The two people in my life who know about my eating disorder, who know I see a lady once a week, are the two people feeding it. If I wrote about the things my mother says to me... well I can’t . I can't leave. I have to write. If I don’t write... if I don’t write, it’s because I’m cured and my mind is empty and emotionless. I watched a fictional TV programme this evening where the characters travelled back in time to meet Vincent Van Gogh. The exploration of Van Gogh wasn’t deep by any means, but it touched the nerve of his genius quite simply: The Doctor to Van Gogh: “I’ve seen wonderful things, my friend, but you’re right, nothing quite as wonderful as the things you see.” His madness was so beautiful. What a mind, what an exceptional mind. Of course I would never compare myself with Van Gogh’s artistic genius, but it brought me back to the name of this blog: A Head Full of Beauty . I may have an eating disorder, I m...

How far back does my pain go? I forget sometimes, how long I have lived with this... and no, my pain didn't always manifest itself in the shape of an eating disorder - or at least as ferocious an eating disorder as I have now. I was trying to remember a poem I used to love... and it led me to search back into my old computer files to look through the poems and writing that I produced when I was 17 and 18. It struck a chord with me. The pain was the same back then. I just hadn't learnt to channel it through my relationship with food. I never got better, I never got happier, I never found what I was looking for... I just got worse; I just got older; I just wasted more of my life. 19th May 2006 I am so scared. I am so lost, and so confused. So many times I have been falling, and sometimes I have even been soaring, but right now, I’m on the outskirts of a whirlpool, spinning rapidly, awaiting to be sucked into oblivion. I’m just swirling round and round, feeling sick, ...

Why, oh why has Ophelia been posting so much? I drifted so far away recently, posting once a week, once a fortnight.... Well, truth be told, Alex has locked me out of my facebook account in an attempt to get me to concentrate on revision. Oh yes - exams! Exams... seven to be precise - three hours each - the day after each other. excellent... So instead of sitting at my laptop pressing the 'refresh' button on my facebook homepage and seeing what uninteresting things my 480 'friends' have been doing, I have been sitting on blogger, reading old blogs, reading new blogs, commenting here and there, and of course, posting my usual rubbish! I used to be a good blogger - good to read, good at replying - an attentive blogger, a caring blogger. I think it's the slide from Ana to Mia. Ana makes for a good blogger, and Mia makes for a very bad one. Lets face it, what is inspirational about a wobbly white girl stuffing her face and spewing? This is the most messed up my li...

Facebook says I am 'in a relationship' with Alex. So, everyone knows; it's not a secret, it's not being kept quite, it's not a rumour, it's not gossip. It's there now, in black and white. Ophelia is in a relationship with Alex There we go, dear readers, after all the endless posts of turmoil, lust and heartbreak, it's happened. Ophelia has a boyfriend. Sweet Jesus. Tonight I have cried. Uncontrollably weeping on my bedroom floor. Like the Drama Queen I am. Crying because I know I can't do this. I can't keep up the act. I can't keep up the lie. I'm trying to think up excuses not to see him this weekend because I am too fat, because I am too sad, because I am in too much pain. I've been spending almost every other night at his. And this week the cracks have begun to show... I can't keep it up - this happiness thing - it doesn't understand me. I should be the happiest girl in the world. For I am the luckiest girl in the world. I...

I don't make any apologies for what I write on this blog. This is my head - Uncensored - All the uglyness of my thoughts in beautiful, bleeding words. Fundamentally, I set up this blog as an interactive diary. I've always written. I've always had to put down everything on paper because I could never tell anyone or trust anyone or burden anyone with what I was feeling and what I needed to express. Everything I write on this blog is what has happened to me, what I am thinking and what I am experiencing. I do not apologise for it. I do not apologise for sounding selfish or self-obsessed. I do not apologise for seeming shallow or weak. I do not apologise if you dislike me. Because this is me. I will never exclude or edit events to make you like me more. Because I have to do that in my real life everyday. I could never and would never tell anyone in my real life the depth of my insecurities or the confusion of emotions I feel - because they would judge me and hate me and think I...

Apologies for being absent for so long. The past week has been... crazy, emotional, sleepless... exciting . I've been writing everything in my notebook - It's been necessary for me to still write about everything even though I have been unable to sit down at a computer and update this blog. So, what follows are my entries and self-analysis from the past week, dated when they were originally written... Sunday 21st March - Analysing the Past You know, all of this would be so much easier if I had someone... If I had someone who loved me, I think I could cope. I think it would all be alright... If I had someone... someone who truly loved me. I wish I had a rock; someone I could turn to when I was in need, someone to hold me tight, shield me, dote on me... But I am too fussy - too much of a disaster - but most of all, I'm scared of the pain. If he were to leave me or betray me, it would kill me. I know I could never take that pain of heartbreak. What really push...

All the power I have comes from the mirror: it comes from seeing fresh, clear skin, big brown all-absorbing eyes, soft dark hair and plump pink lips. From toned legs, a trim waist and slim arms - my power comes from my confidence; my power comes from the way I look. It's a lie, when people say it's what's inside that counts. But we all know this. We all know that's a load of crap. The world is powered by superficiality. As a woman, being beautiful is more important than anything. Period. And I don't mean fake hair-extensioned , plastic beauty, I mean REAL beauty . I mean that naturally glossy smile, that healthy twinkle in the eyes, skin that glows and a body that's lean and fit: with charisma that sparkles. You see, when a woman has all these things, she can command anyone - any man, even any woman. I don't have Real Beauty. But sometimes, with a great deal of effort, I can come pretty close. The experiences I have in this state are simply ethereal . I can...

I mentioned a few posts back that I was off to have an assessment for psychotherapy on the NHS . So I feel I should update you on how it all went. Diagnosis: Bulimia Nervosa (How enlightening!) Ok , let me stop myself there. I need to say at this point that anything sarcastic/rude/mean that I say about my therapist or my session is just my frustration talking. She actually turned out to be one of the nicest people I've ever had to talk to (out of several doctors, nurses, councillors and other random do- gooders ). She was the first person that I have ever spoken to who I did not feel was judging me. I would even go so far as to say that she understood. My words made sense to another human being - it was incredible - in an odd way, for the first time, I felt sane. So, it was quite revealing - all the stuff I had to talk about. My non-existent, fucked-up relationship with my Mum. My alcoholic Dad drinking himself to the grave when I was a child. As a teenager, the hated ...

Dear everyone I hope you are all having a very Merry Christmas, I hope you are all safe, with your families and I hope you are all well. I want to take this opportunity - in case you don't all already know - to tell you all how much I love and value you and how much you all touch my hearts everyday. I hope you know that I am walking and cheering you every step of the way until you reach your dreams.... * * * I am so thankful for this cyber somewhere over the rainbow. Our buzzwords: 'beauty', 'perfection', 'thin' - they are so socially unacceptable - not right to think - not right to believe in or desire. All I hear is their anger, whenever I explain that I want to be perfect. "You should be happy and accept yourself as you are." "BUT WHY?! I know I can be better than this, so why shouldn't I work to be better? Why should I accept myself in this lowly state? - WHAT is so wrong about wanting to better myself and strive for perfection?!"...

I think this has been the longest I have been away. Or it feels like the longest... A combination of event planning, essays, job - and an overwhelming sediment of stagnant weight - are my excuses for abandoning you all - and I am aware that they should not be excuses. I haven't posted, I haven't read, I haven't commented and I haven't replied - but I will do better, so please forgive me. In my last post I told you that I was being interviewed for a waitressing job - and I did indeed get the job - much to my joy and relief. I've done a couple of shifts so far and apart from my first night when I broke about 20 glasses and dropped cream cheese down a guest's jacket, it's been ok . The only downside is the food... every night the waiting staff get to eat all the leftovers - and there's a lot of leftovers, and it's all ridiculously incredible. I have never found it so hard to resist food. I'm not talking the urge you get for a midnight bread binge....

Wow. Firstly, thank you. Caiten , whoever and wherever you are, that one comment meant so much to me. It was a shock and a truly great comfort. At the same time, I was also very shaken. I have come out: This other identity, this dark side of me, this unspoken monster that I really am. Now I know she exists, alive and free from her chains, and it's a scary prospect, for in revealing this monster, I am also acknowledging her. My illness is not a secret anymore - it is real and I cannot deny it, for this page is living proof of its existence and its power over me. My heart desires to give so much more to this blog, to post photos of myself, my mum, my friends, my university town, my hometown, my room, the boys I liked, the places I have been... I want to share my memories, and these huge images of who I am. But this page must remain just words for now. I fear even telling you what University I am at... This leads me to question why I am so afraid of being discovered... I am ashamed of...