Chill time. We all need it. Yet we constantly beat ourselves up for it because we've all had the ideology of you must work until your on your last breathe to get anywhere in life.
Like yeah I can totally take a nap. When I'm dead. And all this is irrelevant.
I had the entire long weekend off work, uni and my everyday life. Everything simply just stopped in order to relax. No disturbances, just time to self care, self nourish and have me time.
I could let myself get wracked with guilt from my brain over how I didn't work on any uni work, work or my project. How I didn't stretch or pole whilst away. How I didn't respond to emails. But there is simply no point. All of those things would be meaningless if it wasn't for weekends away where you free yourself from all ties such as work or your eating disorder rituals to fully embrace the world and create a beautiful memory. My eating disorder has spoilt a few birthdays, this year I prepared myself healthily, refused to restrict leading up to it and am still going blooming strong. I do not need its control in order to be fucking miserable. I need my control in order to be happy.
Not once did I let these things beat me down and I will never regret the freedom I have experienced. It's just a reminder that freedom from my own brain is always a possibility, no matter how hard it gets. Besides if you go for a pub lunch in your pyjama top and pull out your latest stuffed pal called Nelson the puffin, then you really are free.
Nelson is a solid lad. He's settled into his latest habitat of my flat well. Who knows, maybe one day he will pole with me.
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