Up and lost at 1:38am…

So I was on my way to bed (midnight-ish), when I heard my son make a strange sound. He is narcoleptic with severe cataplexy, and on a night-time medication called ‘Xyrem’ (a very dangerous, controlled sleep medication used in the treatment of narcolepsy). He MUST not have anything to eat for two hours before taking it, in case he is sick in his sleep and won’t wake up, due to the medication. He knows that. He has been told that. He knows the danger and the potential consequences. He knows he could die. His father died suddenly when he was only three, so he well and truly understands the meaning of death…

So I hear him make a strange sound, and I walk in to check on him. He’s up. (He shouldn’t be – he should be lying down, and shout for help if he needs up for any reason while this medication is still in his system.) I ask him if he’s okay. He says yes (seems slightly disoriented), and says he felt ‘restricted’. He is wearing a back brace for scoliosis (curvature of the spine), so I help him out of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot something on his bed sheet. At first glance I thought he had been a little sick, so I switch on the light to see what happened. It’s not sick. It’s a mini egg. Squashed. Chocolate everywhere. That was NOT there when I gave him his medication at 10:45pm. Once more, I caught him not only eating after having his medication, but lying about it. We have done this SOOOOOOOO many times before, it’s not funny. I am furious. I don’t know what to do. I get he has a hard time with everything going on, but I am sooooooooooo tired of his CONSTANT negativity. It’s ALWAYS ‘nothing good ever happens to me’, ‘do you know what really annoyed me today?’, ‘this really horrible thing happened today’ and so on. When I ask him to tell me ONE good thing that happened today, it’s always the same answer: ‘I can’t think of anything.’ or ‘Nothing good ever happens to me.’

I am SO tired of him feeling sorry for himself!

When will I learn that I CAN’T MAKE PEOPLE HELP THEMSELVES?!… It’s not just him with his issues, it’s also my stepdaughter with her anorexia. This CONSTANT pretence, lying and feeling sorry for themselves, the constant jealousy, the constant ‘poor little me’ drama…. I am so bored of it, and I don’t know what to do. Don’t know how to help. But I am losing myself trying. Losing myself trying to fix them. When I know that I can’t. But I keep trying… WHY????

So here I am, 1:48am, drinking beer, typing, ranting, listening to the dogs snoring, only to wake up again tomorrow, trying my best again.

Will it really make a difference?

Does it really matter?

I don’t want to give up. I won’t give up. But I can’t MAKE people better. Can’t MAKE them make the right choices. Can’t TALK them into being more positive….

So what CAN I do?

Look after myself?



Don’t know what to do…

Haven’t been on here for ages, just trying to plod on and get myself in a good frame of mind in order to support our kids. My stepdaughter’s anorexia however, is beginning to suck the life out of me. I keep believing that she will have the strength to change, I keep loving her with all my heart, holding her when she cries and wants to kill herself, when she says she can no longer do this, when she sobs for hours; her boney little frail fragile body pressed against mine, damp from all the tears, until the sobs subside. But nothing ever changes. She now has gone back to hiding and pretending, laxatives, making herself sick, hiding away etc. etc. etc. – I am sure those of you who have lived with an anorexic know exactly what that feels like. It hurts me so much seeing her like this; wasting away, throwing her precious life away, her precious time away, whilst sucking the life out of those who love and want to help her most. And I feel unheard. Unhelped. Unsupported. I’m being called ‘selfish’ and been told to ‘get a grip’ and ‘be bigger than this’. Well, I am crumbling, and I don’t know who to turn to. I feel so heavy today, so empty…. Like I’ve literally had all strength, life and joy sucked out of me….

Sorry for the rant, but right now I have noone to talk to. So had to put this somewhere.

Much love to you all – those of you who are struggling, and those of you who are struggling supporting someone who is struggling…



My “New Year’s” Resolutions…

Bearing in mind my previous post about time, here are my ‘New Year’s’ Resolutions:

I will say ‘thank you’ more often than ‘sorry’ (as in: “Thank you for listening.” instead of “Sorry I am such a mess…”)

I will encourage myself as I do others.

(As long as I have been kind, helpful and honest), to see people’s behaviour towards me as a reflection of the state of their relationship with themselves, rather than a statement about my value as a person.

Understand that the only person’s actions I can wholly influence are my own, and that I am not responsible for those of others.

Understand that the only person’s happiness I can wholly influence is my own, and that it is outwith my power to ‘make’ people happy – I can merely be kind along the way.

I will not dwell on the negative for too long, but tackle life with honesty, humour and positivity.

I will not label things/events/behaviours as ‘good’ or ‘bad’, but see them simply as neutral – they are what they are, nothing more and nothing less.

I will smile the sort of smile that makes my eyes light up like a thousand twinkling stars on a dark night.

I will laugh the sort of belly laugh that makes everyone stop and stare at you before bursting into at least a little giggle themselves.

Much love xxx

The concept of time and New Year’s Resolutions…

I usually make some New Year’s resolutions, and this year will be no exception. But I already know that they will be quite different from any of the ones I’ve made before.

Looking back over the last year, I have to say it is the year that nearly broke me.

But how could a ‘year’ possibly break me? What does ‘year’ even mean?

‘A year’ is merely a concept we created ourselves in order to measure the passage of time. A grid, if you like. But I am beginning to wonder if we would be better off without such rigid definitions. Years, months, weeks, days… Months ‘repeating’ themselves – January, February, March…. you get the idea. But by defining specific chunks of time, do we not merely create more problems? There is no year, month or day that can ever be the same; we only ever have the present moment.

So I wonder why it is that we get so caught up in timescales that only exist because we defined them in the first place? Granted, they are based on the repeating rhythms of night, day, the moon and the seasons, but through giving them the same names are we not creating the artificial concept of sameness?

I understand the necessity of defining time – how else would we know how to write down our doctor’s appointment for example? I am merely arguing that we are possibly creating more pain for ourselves than necessary. Think about ‘the anniversary’ of a death of a loved one. Why should that day be particularly painful only because it happened 365 days ago?

And why should we ‘only’ be able to start over at the dawn of ‘a new year’? Why might we feel that ‘the whole year’ will be bad if something throws a massive challenge at us early in the year for example? Why do we feel we almost have the ‘right’ to ‘give up’ (as in ‘next year will be better’)?

Maybe, if we didn’t define time quite so rigidly, we would be able to rely on feeling what we feel when we feel it. And maybe we wouldn’t need to make New Year’s Resolutions as such, because it wouldn’t matter which day we picked to change our lives…



Can you imagine what it’s like to watch a car crash in slow motion, where each millisecond in real time lasts a whole long day? Slooooooowly watching a driver speed towards disaster, completely unaware of what’s around the corner. Completely unaware of all traffic around him. Where you spend every day trying to somehow reach that driver to tell him of his imminent fate. To warn him to slow down, or change direction. Or even to just look around to notice the traffic. Innocent kids by the roadside, playing with their bikes and chasing balloons. Where you spend day after day after slow-motion day trying to figure out a way to change his direction. To change his future. But no matter what you do, no matter how loud you shout, how much you jump up and down, no matter how upset you get, and no matter how many people join in the fight to warn that one driver of the devastation he is about to cause – not just to himself and his vehicle, but to so many innocent bystanders, there is absolutely nothing you can do. The driver just keeps on going, and your time is running out…

Well, this it’s what it’s like to live with someone with anorexia. Except that this driver sees you. This driver hears you talking, reasoning, pleading, breaking down, crying and fighting your corner. Trying to stop you by any means possible. But this driver not just choses to completely ignore you, but this driver tries, through many intricate and manipulative lies and mind games, make you believe that they ARE actually trying to change direction, then, when that doesn’t work any more, that they are in total control. That this driver knows what may be about to happen if he was a BAD driver, which of course he isn’t. And how they are different, how they know how to drive better than anyone, as they know their car and their own skills, and that they will be able to stop right at the end, do a fancy wheelie, and bathe in the applause of the onlooking crowd that has gathered to try and warn him.

And so this driver continues to plow towards certain disaster at break-neck speed, blinkers on, and foot firmly on the gas.

And all you can do is wait for the crash, before you can run and help. And hope that it’s not too late…

She’s back…

… and with her selfish ways, lies, deceptions and games, she leaves behind a trail of broken souls. Beautiful souls, who cared too much, who believed too much, who tried too hard. Trampled on by her pretence of helplessness, dying in her cruelly calculated path of manipulative destruction.

Actions speak louder than words.

As do no actions.