Imperfection

I have always thought I was imperfect. Not good enough at anything or for anyone. I don’t think people knew how insecure I felt in my skin when I was younger but after the attacks it just reinforced my feelings about myself. At the time I couldn’t understand why these attacks had to happen to me. I will never get an answer to that question. It is one of life’s unanswered question which I have come to accept.

About a year and half after the attacks I completely stopped eating and drinking. I couldn’t cope with the flashbacks in my head and felt I was disgusting and unclean.  At first it was not to lose weight but to disappear: but as I lost weight I did disappear.  My mind slowed down, my body became weaker. My blood sugar kept dropping, extremely low. I didn’t know what day or even year I was in. Time just went by.  It was a lonely and isolating world living in my head. Lost in a system of care that didn’t understand.

But throughout the years, I have started to embrace my imperfections, because sometimes you can keep changing yourself for everyone else.  I have lost friends to my illness and that is because I thought they never really knew what was going on for me. Just left school. Disappeared.  We need to talk more openly about mental health because many people don’t understand it. I have struggled to talk to friends about it. It seems to be a taboo subject; a “no-go” area.

In my view we are all imperfect. If we were all the same; all perfect then what would make us different, unique.  It seems people like “safe”.  They don’t like the unknown. Nor do I but most people would treat somebody with a physical condition differently than someone with a mental health condition.  I am not a monster.  The monsters are the individuals that hurt me.  I never asked to be hurt.  But instead of people embracing, helping and accepting me I am looked down upon.  They don’t see me: they just see the conditions. Not everyone is like this and I know a lot of people who have read my blog and have surprised me by their response, and treated me like nothing has ever happened.

I have scars on my body, stretch marks on my legs for my weight going up and down, due to medication and not eating.  I take daily medication but I am me, with all my imperfections.  Some days I feel lost and isolated in a mind where I believe there is no hope….but there is hope. Sometimes we just have to believe, hope and work every day to be a better person and accept that we are all different. That is what makes this world so beautiful, alive and full of colour.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

About Rosie Burnham

Twitter: @Rosie_Burnham Blog: rosieburnham.com Huffingpost Blog: www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/author/rosie-burnham Very Loose Women (ResonanceFM): http://bit.ly/2l02xw3 Women's Health Magazine (Strong Minds Issue): https://www.pressreader.com/uk/womens-health-uk/20171201/282948155497339