All posts by ieshamanns

About ieshamanns

Iesha Manns, eighteen years old, studying play therapy through open university! I blog to support other people with physical and mental heath difficulties

I Need Your Help to find a Personal Assistant!

I am looking for a young, enthusiastic and caring personal assistant. I am eighteen years old and I have Cerebral Palsy, Anorexia and other mental health problems. I need help with personal care such as, getting dressed, showering etc. You would also be asked to have a full clean driving licence to be insured on my car, this would be to do tasks like taking me to hospital appointments and social outings. As well as this I will require someone to cook for me occasionally and do other things like hoovering my room.

The hourly rate is ¬£12.50 before tax and ¬£10 take home per hour. The minimum hours I will need to be taken is two hours a week¬†¬†(I will be happy to let you choose the day). Also, I would need you to be able to cover my main PA’s annual leave/sickness, obviously in advance. I understand that two hours a week, once a week isn’t much and if this becomes the only thing that puts you off about the job, please ask and I will try my best to sort it out!¬†

I am a girly girl who loves everything pink, I love Chick Flicks, makeup, hair dying, shopping¬†and pop music… Also anything sensory! I am the sort of person that would try and make the job work for you and for it to be fun as well. Like I stated above, I am mainly looking for a young person who has a good sense of humour, the type of person that can be a friend as well as a PA.

For any  other information, please do not hesitate to contact me and I will look forward to hearing from you, if you know anyone that might be interested please feel free to share with them!

Thank you, Iesha

Oh Yeah, Here’s why I Started Blogging…

I think most bloggers do this post right at the beginning… But I totally forgot, (yep, that’right, shame on me!). But I have remembered now finally, so sit back, relax and enjoy reading about the main reasons I write to you all.

I can remember sitting here sometime during year 11, two years ago and feeling like there are so many people that stare at me down the street and have absolutely no awareness about how disheartening that can be. I mean, I know it is obvious that I have Cerebral Palsy, but I wanted to know how all of a sudden that made me an alien! However, I literally wrote that as a status update on my Facebook, but I soon realised after that one off blog that I wanted to take blogging further. I then launched a page on my Facebook specifically for my blogs, after a few weeks though some silly kids hacked into it and posted some inappropriate stuff on there. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was a blessing in disguise because it made me even more determined to get these messages out to people, this meant that I started my page on here. It finally felt like it was meant to be and my blogs were going to have a home and a purpose.

The down point to starting all this though, was that I was in the most important point of year 11 and the stress of exams soon hit me. I decided that I had to put my blogging on hold for a while and focus on my GCSE’s, it did feel silly of me at the time after launching my page just to stop it all. But,¬†I look back now and realise exactly why I stopped for a while, ¬†it was the best¬†decision¬†I ever made! Going off track for a minute, here is a shoutout to all the year 11’s now…¬†It might seem pointless doing all the revision and extra work now, it might seem like the exam papers are just a few questions on a piece of paper and it¬†won’t be worth it, I get that, I felt exactly the same and everyone nagging me about revising did my head in. But, please take my advice¬†when I tell you that it IS¬†worth it and the results CAN effect what you do after it’s all over. However at the same time, please remember that the letters on that piece of paper¬†doesn’t¬†define you as a person, good luck to you all!

I started posting on here again around the January of 2016, the reason I never wrote again before was that I needed a subject to base it on. At this time though, I did because I started working in a special needs school, which then inspired me to write again around special needs and raise even more awareness.¬†Around 6 or 7 months later I had the best opportunity handed to me, I wanted to find a job that paid me, but everywhere I applied for declined me as soon as they found out about my disability. A¬†journalist then heard about my struggle and wanted to write a story to go in the¬†echo and on¬†the radio about this, just about the best feeling ever! They found out about me blogging and asked me to write a post from my view, about the situation, so that is exactly what I did, laying around the pool in Benidorm. This then got published for a¬†magazine¬†company, the echo and the radio, little did¬†I know the best was still to come. I got home a few days later and the story had been posted online, to all social media and it had gone viral, even getting to¬†Canada… BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!

As well as this though, as many of you would’ve guessed, from knowing me and reading my blogs that I suffer with bad mental health problems. This started during year 10/11 and has been a part of me since. However, it became a massive issue during June/ July of last year when I got diagnosed with an eating disorder! From then on my life has been a whirlwind, in and out of hospital and feeling so low. Even now, whilst I sit here writing to you I feel so rubbish… but I’m getting ready for my third day in an Eating Disorders unit tomorrow (1st of June 2017), it goes on daily and there’s no single thought without it. But I will try and keep you all updated with how it’s going as much as I can! A year or so later and I’ve finally accepted it isn’t a bad thing to accept such intensive help!¬†

During all of my therapy sessions throughout school and up until now, I have been told so many techniques to try. One being to write down exactly how I was feeling, but I wasn’t prepared to be a far less attractive Bridget Jones wannabe and write a diary! So, I decided to start my blog, (less like Bridget Jones, more like “The life of Iesha” or something along those lines!) Along with it though, I now wanted to raise awareness of mental health too and try and reduce the stigma around the subject. I want anyone to reach out for help if they’re ¬†struggling, it’s NOT for attention if you speak out about it, its bravery. ¬†I hope you’ll find that when you do admit to how you’re feeling, you’ll begin to notice that you’re not alone and that there are many other people finding it difficult too.

These are just some of the reasons why I blog, but I love writing posts for everyone to read. I can only hope that it benefits you to read them too.

“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today’s a gift and that’s why we call it the present”ūüíĚ

Trapped Inside a Five Year Olds Body at Eighteen Years OldūüíĒ

*This is an emergency¬†blog post, mostly because¬†I need to get a point across! I don’t mean to be rude though*

I am currently sat here at 23:32 ¬†on a Tuesday night, sat in bed writing this to you all hoping to get a pretty big message across to whoever reads this tonight, just a little eye opener from my point of view. So please, sit back, relax and just take some of what I say in, it would mean a lot to me…

Okay, so I am eighteen and nineteen this year. However, I can’t get dressed or undressed unaided, I can’t put the toothpaste on my toothbrush, I can’t brush my hair (unless I want to take a time machine back to the 80s, because that’s what I would look like!) Oh, and on that note I can’t put my hair in a hairband etc at all. I can’t cut up any food I attempt to eat, or drink a drink out of a cup that’s full unless I want to chuck it all over myself in the process, and end up with nothing to drink anyway! That is just the tiniest list ever, but it seems like nothing to most of you right? That’s because it is your routine and that’s okay.

In the nicest possible way, with no disrespect whatsoever, some people that have my disability don’t know that their routine is any different to any able-bodied person, but I do. I get told by so many people, “go to a disability support group and hang out with people the same as you”. Or, “go in your manual chair and do more Physio to build up your strength”. Well, here is how I see it, I do NOT want to go to a disability support group because I am with my friends who are able-bodied or who have the same sort of disability as me, or who I have grown up for years with. All of these friends I love all the same, but a special shout out to my four best friends Chloe, Hannah ¬†Max and Emilie for just being the definition of incredible and giving me hope to carry on the next day. Oh yeah, point two… ¬†I do NOT want to do Physio all the time, I couldn’t care less about my strength levels, because to me? I am the same as my best friends, they don’t need Physio and I want to be that way too.

I get that I can’t get dressed and all that, I get that I can’t get rid of my wheelchair because that is impossible! But, I can decide if I don’t want a massive blue wedge or any equipment to keep my legs in position. I can decide when I want to go to sleep at night, I can decide what I want to post on my social media accounts and I can decide if I want to be the employer of my PAs… but, for some reason I don’t get that with at least 95% of the people in my life, just because I have a registered disability, even though I am eighteen years old!

So, let me get one thing straight… I am mentally like any of the people my age, I just can’t walk or use my right hand. I am currently in the middle of a university course in Play Therapy. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I feel trapped inside a broken body! It’s a horrible feeling because the only thing that has broken my mind is my mental health. But, I guess that’s just the way life is right?

Don’t judge a book by its coverūüíĮ

Death Leaves a Heartache That no one Can Heal… In Memory of Mrs Jennie Deavin!<3

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I guess you can say that eighteen years old, I am quite lucky to be going through my first grieving process, I knew it would hurt but I massively underestimated how difficult it would be.

I don’t know how to live, how to get up each morning and carry on with the things that I have to do. I sit by my window everyday and see people walk past really happy, knowing that they are lucky enough not to deal with the exact loss my family and I have. The only comfort I get from carrying on is knowing that I would be making my auntie proud.

She was the most positive, outgoing, inspirational lady I had the huge honour of having in my life. Even during her five year battle with Cancer, she never once complained or never said “why me?”. Even up until the point that she started getting crucially poorly, she sat at her desk at the hotel she proudly owned and did all the work she could to help out and obviously make sure everything was in order and the way it should be. She pushed herself round a grass track in a manual wheelchair at last years Relay For Life, an event that as a family we all take part in to raise money for Cancer Research UK. Jennie was determined to complete that lap, no matter how hard it was and she wouldn’t let anyone help her! My admiration for her is forever ongoing and that will never change.

She was my best friend always, but especially the last five years. She understood how it was for me, neither of us could do the little things like cut up food in a restaurant, she understood how annoying it was to get the stares from strangers or the sympathy which she never once wanted. I can remember everyone getting together for my seventeenth birthday, Jennie was sat opposite to me and saw how stressed out I was getting with everyone asking me if I was okay because my leg was shaking. She turned around and said “oh for god sake, can you stop asking her if she is okay… If she wasn’t she can tell you”. That is when I ¬†realised that someone actually understood how I was feeling finally.

In the week leading up to her gaining her angel wings I sat round her bed in her flat, on the first day she said to me “Oh how lovely it is to see you and that beautiful smile!” shortly followed by “I have always told you to be a model… I need that picture next to my bed Rosie” then “You should play the piano with how long your fingers are”. Obviously, as the days went by she got worse, but the memories that were shared (and the amount of Mini Eggs that were eaten by everyone) will be remembered forever.

I cry every night and think about her everyday, I am currently waiting for the star right opposite my bedroom window to appear to let me know she’s there. I am so proud of every single one of my family, but especially Rosie-Rachel, James and Russel, I know she always has been and always will be proud and grateful of you all!

One month gone, but the pain hasn’t faded and it never will be the same without you, we all know that you’re pain free up there now, but we’re hoping that everyone who is up there with you are keeping those lists in the right order?! ¬†You are a hero, an inspiration, someone to admire, basically a comedian, an idol and the best family member anyone could ask for!

Sleep tight our Duracell Bunny, we love and miss you always! 05.04.17<3

 

The Pain In My Eyes Can Tell You A Whole New Story…

I often ask myself how she got here, from that little girl who first sat up on a sledge at five years old. To the little girl who was front row in nativities even as a sheep, to the little girl who was full of confidence and loved her for who she was. Now though, what has happened?

At eighteen years old that same girl will sit in front of the¬†mirror and cut off her body, even by putting my arm around¬†herself. She took a picture with her best friend of seven years, who is¬†actually like her little brother, she smiled in the mirror and to begin with her reaction was like “aw thats cute”. But after that, she looked back and I thought to herself, “I look beyond disgusting!”. So where has that girl gone?

Let me tell you, I know that girl… That girl now lies awake every night and fights everyday. She fights against an¬†invisible demon, whenever she is surrounded by food that demon takes¬†control and she physically can not eat because, even though everyone else around¬†her is allowed to eat, she is not because the fear of what she will feel after from this demon is¬†just too much to handle. So this girl¬†won’t eat food but then in the real world gets told that not eating is not allowed to happen at all, why? Because this girl will apparently end up having kidney¬†failure and anything else… Resulting in eventual DEATH!¬†

‘Death’ is a¬†scary word¬†don’t you think? Well, I can now tell you that this girl is no longer scared of it. Because to her, the anxiety she faced by just walking out her front door was just as scary. The past this girl had growing up from the age of nine until she was sixteen was¬†crippling her over in fear. She got told to “let go of the past and live life in the present and the¬†future”. But this girl¬†couldn’t do that, because almost like a CD stuck on a song, it constantly replayed in her head, so¬†I know that she¬†can’t just let go of it. I also know that it scares this girl to pick up the phone, it scares this girl to sit in a classroom but then when she does, the teachers pushed her one step¬†closer and tried to get her to talk in a presentation. Well, I can also tell you thats not¬†the worst part, because in that same presentation it is¬†based on nutrients¬†and calorie intake… Resulting in one huge¬†breakdown, but then those popular girls think that its just for attention.

That exact¬†same girl, dreaded summer ¬†whilst everyone was beyond excited for it, again, you want to know why? Well¬†I will tell you, this girl has to wear hoodies all year round, or bracelets or¬†elastic bands. This is because, unless it is around people who really knew this girl she was¬†ashamed of letting people see the scars of her past! So, to this girl the word ‘Death’¬†isn’t scary at all, as some days it was comforting to her….

I guess you’re wondering who this girl is, or you¬†might’ve already guessed the ending.¬†Before¬†I tell you who it is, this¬†girl wants you to remember that so¬†much can hide behind a smile. She can smile and tell you she is happy and most of you would believe her, because you¬†didn’t see the pain in her eyes. She would be quiet and overrun by thoughts, but¬†most of you would believe that she was simply tired. This girl could look anxious and she¬†would still manage to¬†reassure everyone she was okay. Finally,¬†people¬†really need to stop saying that the pain¬†someone is going through is for attention, because the stigma is horrible!¬†

So¬†I will now tell you how¬†I know¬†this one girl… This girl who I am writing about is ME!! But no,¬†I am not doing this for attention I am doing this because if¬†I achieve one thing in life it is to stop the stigma around¬†mental health. Just¬†please always remember, looks can be¬†deceiving!¬†

Stay Safe everyone, my inbox is always open if you need meūüíú

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“I Guess that is the point of it all, no one¬†knows the¬†impact they have on the¬†lives of other people” ~Hannah Baker~ūüíĒ¬†

24th February 2014… A Life Changing Week!

It’s been three years, three long challenging years but I remember it like it was yesterday. So many people that mean so much to me know exactly what I mean when they see this date, but I have never shared my story in detail from my point of view. So please, sit back and relax whilst I finally share the major and sometimes minor details of my hip reconstruction…A year and a half of being in constant agony and sitting the beginning of my GCSE years with a dislocated hip, I had such a picture built up in my head as to how this journey would be! After getting a sickness bug a couple of weeks before, on my original operation date, it broke my heart but made me more determined than ever to finally live the pain free life I’d dreamt of as soon as the 24th arrived. 

I remember arriving in Southampton hospital car park and taking one look before fear took hold of me. It finally hit me, this was my home for the next week and that in a few hours I’d be under anaesthetic having a hip reconstruction. The only way I was going to get through the next week (by the way no one knows I did this!) was to imagine being admitted to a five stat hotel, pretending to be some celebrity and thinking that no needle would come anywhere near me… it sounds silly but it worked, until I saw one of the first things to calm me down and bring me back to reality. There it was, right in front of me the incredible multi coloured corridor! At 15 years old I was more fascinated than most five year olds, but just round that corner was my ward and perminant base that I’d call home, ward G3 for children’s orthopaedics! 

Then it started, my wrist bands went on, the forms were signed and just because I was allergic to one thing? That was known as ‘high risk’ and I had a red clip attached to my bands. My first set of observations were then done, my magic cream got put on every part of my arms possible, which was followed quickly by a blood test. My fear of needles were soon found out after tear drops flooded out of my eyes like a fountain! Wow, now the waiting began. I waited five long hours until the porters came and got me, trust me those five hours felt like a longer wait than the whole year and a half! No matter how many games of uno that was played I had never been so bored… but the little children that looked petrified did distract me, because I realised that it could be me to cheer them up a bit, even if it meant hearing the Peppa Pig theme tune on repeat! Finally my time for my operation had come around, this time it was me that was petrified, but my life was about to change forever. Going down the normal hospital like corridors on a hospital bed on the way to anaesthetic, which is my worst nightmare and this time my mind wouldn’t let me be a celebrity, this time my mind knew what was about to happen! We reach the corridor and I was waiting to get put to sleep, I can remember watching Ice Age on a massive robot looking TV an then, I was going to sleep that was it, I was gone at 4:00pm. 
The next thing I knew it was 8:00pm, I was awake and hearing my nurse and mum and dad telling me to keep my oxygen tube up my nose, but I am Iesha Manns and everyone knew that’d never happen! I was in and out of sleep, I can remember my dad telling me that my little sister wanted to start ballet, but I can’t remember him leaving. The next time I woke up, everyone was asleep and I was having my drips and cold spray checked on to make sure my epidural was working! It was the same as this for the next few days, I remember my auntie Serena coming up on around the second day and doing a fishtail plait in my hair, whilst I was off my face on my morphine drip, but it’s the littlest things I can remember so clearly, just like that! 
I finally started to feel more alive on the third night/fourth day, that’s when my Physio started and I had the most amazing physiotherapist ever! But, the epidural had been stopped then and I was finally allowed back in my chair… me being me, I went to the bathroom and did my makeup! I had the most incredible visitors, my Nans and grandads, my mum was just the definition of my saviour that week and stayed by my side until the very last night when my godmother took over. My dad and sister, who knew I was poorly even at such a young age and just sat with me, playing Peppa Pig on my iPad laying next to me. My auntie Camilla who by the Friday night realised I was in need of getting back to being me so started throwing Daim Bar Minis at me… that’s love! But the biggest thing I remember, is having my cousin Matilda who is my inspiration by me all weekend, feeding me pasta and chicken and stuffing sandwiches and watching bridesmaids to that guy nurses disgust… all whilst being my rock and my nurse until late at night on the Sunday! She left an I was sad, but then I realised something… IT WAS DISCHARGE DAY TOMORROW!!! I had my last hair wash and hospital bed bath, had some time with the play therapists then went to sleep for the last night in G3! 

Finally we’ve reached the end… it was discharge day! I had spent the days at the beginning of the week wishing the days away to get out of hospital, but now it was here I was feeling a bit emotional. I wrote all the nurses a card, filled in the feedback forms and started packing my bags. I said goodbye to all the children that I’d made smile over the last week, mum had become friends with all the parents and I felt like a big sister to all the kids, we’d become family in the last week and it was so hard to leave! I left the ward, went down the hallway to say goodbye to the most fantastic nurses and therapists for the last time, gave them there card and with tears in my eyes we shut the coded door behind us for the last time. Got down the multicoloured corridor that had been my safe place throughout the last week and I kept looking down until the end. The lift was next and for the very last time I’d hear “ground floor, doors closing” it sounds silly but it was breaking my heart! By now? I was a mess, but I was that celebrity again as we walked out the main doors and I was free to go. Got in the car anxiously trying to do transfers to the car the way I’d been told to, to be comfortable. Drove away, wiped the tears from my eyes and started the next challenge of a six week recovery I knew lay ahead of me! I’m a new person, I had the strength when we drove away and I will be forever thankful of the support from everyone!

Iesha Manns, mission reconstructed hip complete!

Not On The Job Hunt This Time… I’m On A Personal Assistant Hunt!

Many of you know my name, but this time I’m writing this for a friend that I’ve known and grown up with since I was in nursery. Her name is Maxine Moore and I have been asked to help her out, so here goes…

Maxine (but better known as Max) is a 24 year old lady and she has Cerebral Palsy, I grew up with her and always looked up to her, still now she’s one of my closest friends. She has recently started her latest journey by starting University in Southampton studying Web design. But, just like me she needs support of a PA/carer to help her.

When you live with a disability like Cerebral Palsy and you can’t do what everyone else can it can be a very lonely and isolating place, but the support of having a personal assistant takes that all away. They learn all about you and they know exactly what you need, but being able have a laugh with someone whilst they are caring for you is just as important. Max has never let her disability stop her and with the help of PA’s this is even more possible.

Just like myself Max just wants to be treated like anyone else her age, being a PA is not all about the personal care side of things like most people think it is. Being a PA is all about being a friend as well, going out and doing all the social side of things is what it is all about as well. All of my PA’s have always said to me, “It’s just like helping out a friend, but you get paid for it and it is the best job ever!” and I’m sure it will be the same for her too. The main things are that you need to be a female between 20-35 years old and you need to be able to drive.

This bog will be shared by Max on social media, so if you or someone you know is interested in a rewarding job like this please contact her, or contact me and I will pass you on to her. She will be able to give you lots more details about the job and see if it will work. Also, please feel free to share this blog between you, the more people that know the better it will be!

Thank you,

Iesha

Starting The Recovery Journey…

First off, I hope all my readers had an amazing Christmas and New Year! For now though, sit back and relax whilst you read my first post of 2017…

I have decided that last year was the storm and that this year I am determined to make that storm pass. You read all these inspiring mental health recovery stories, they say that “recovery is easy” well, no it really isn’t and I’m not going to lie at all. Recovery is just as hard because the reality is you are still ill whilst recovering. So here is my opinion on how draining recovery really is.

I started trying to start my recovery journey and I am still at the very beginning of it now. There is days where you feel like you have the tools to be able to conquer the world of recovery and there is other days where you just need to shut your eyes as soon as you open them. Let me tell you now, both of them are okay and there isn’t a right or wrong way to recover. There is no instruction guide on the “Iesha Manns Recovery Journey” that has already been written, thats because no one can see into the future, although some days that’d be so much easier! So, what I’m just starting to learn is that you have to write this so called instruction guide as you go.

Bad days should be just as valued as good days, because. otherwise how would you know what a good day really feels like? On the days where. all you can do is open your eyes, but you have to stay in bed, that’s fine because you’re still trying and thats all anyone can ask of you. If you need to relapse, then always remember that relapsing is part 0f recovery. On the days where you need to light a cigarette to calm your mind down, then in a way count that as a positive step because you are learning how to take control. At the end of the day, yes smoking kills but when you are feeling that low, nothing can kill you like your own mind!

Never listen to those mental illnesses voices, you are worth so much more than what they are saying to you. I still get confused daily between who I am and what I need to do versus what my voices are telling me. All of you who are reading this and suffering, knowing exactly what I am talking about, I want you to know that you are never alone, what you are feeling I am too. This doesn’t mean our recovery or how we’re feeling will be exactly the same, because it won’t, but if any of you ever need to message me then please feel free… the world can be an isolating place, but you are never alone!

“Every bad day is another step towards a good one, never forget that”<3

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Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year…

I can’t believe another year is almost over, I can’t believe that in two days we will be celebrating Christmas 2016! 

This year for me has been a whirlwind, but one of the hardest years of my life. My mental health has got the better of me and in all honesty, I’m just proud I’ve survived it. It’s seen me hit my lowest, it’s seen me cry over food, it’s seen me lay awake at 3am with my phone on airplane mode so that I don’t have to have contact with the world. I’ve gained my eating disorder voice that claims to be my friend, the friend who talks to me when anyone mentions food and makes me shout at the real person who’s talking to me, I’ve reached breaking point.

But, this year has also brought me laughs and smiles, some of the best opportunities of my life. I’ve started college and left college, I started weekend work and left weekend work, but I have started my apprenticeship and I’m loving every second. I’m determined to get my level two qualification in childcare this time next year to be able to start my level three! I’ve turned eighteen and celebrated three weekends in a row throughout November, apart from being allowed to do all he things an eighteen year old can do, the novelty wore off quiet quickly. I’ve lost people that I called my friends once upon a time, I’ve gained friends that are amazing and have shown me the true meaning of friendship and I’ve had all the amazing people stay in my life and by my side for yet another year, I am able to wish all those people an amazing Christmas and New Year for another year running and without them I’d be nowhere.

All in all, I look back on 2016 as a bit of a blur, but I am proud that I’ve survived it! Here’s hoping 2017 will be the start of my proper recovery and the beginning of the well and happy Iesha. The last thing I can say is a very merry Christmas and a very happy New Year to you all, my followers on this blog, my friends and my family. Thank you all for the support and courage you have given me to get through this year, without you all I have no clue where I’d be right now! 

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL, I HOPE 2017 GIVES YOU ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD! I’ll look forward to blogging to you all next year, for more of my journey and adventures. 
Lots of love, 

Iesha 

‚̧ԳŹūüíö‚̧ԳŹūüíö

Dear Eating Disorder…

 *Don’t read if you’re easily triggered* 
Dear eating disorder, this letter is for you..
 Dear eating disorder, can I have a break yet? Can I just have one day where you leave me alone, where I can have a normal life. I’m bored of constantly having to please you, or to do every order you tell me. I’m me, I’m Iesha I’m an 18 year old who should be enjoying her life but instead I’m being completely controlled by everything you’re telling me to do, you make me feel exactly how you think I should and I can’t change that, do I not deserve a break yet?
Dear eating disorder, can I have some energy yet? I’d love a day where I can get up in the morning and actually have the energy to complete just a simple task, like brushing my teeth without having to feel like I’ve got the weight of the world on my shoulders. But instead, I can only just manage to sit up or press the controls on my chair to make myself move, even that you tell me I should be crying because it’s using too much energy. I have an apprenticeship to start next week, I just pray you won’t mess that up for me too. 
Dear eating disorder, can I make my friends and family proud yet? To them I’m just being “rude” or “lazy” when I say I can’t face a family dinner, but you know yourself that isn’t the case. It’s you controlling me so much that I can’t face sitting around a table and eating dinner, you’ve made me think that’s my worst nightmare, so now it is! I wish they could see how you’ve taken over me, so to “think positive” or “be proud of myself” is just out of the question. You’ve made me look like I don’t want to try or like I enjoy being sad, which I really don’t… they just can’t understand any of this!
Dear eating disorder, can I tell someone how I really feel? All you let me say is “I don’t like eating” and then when I get asked why you make me reply “I don’t know”. But the truth is me and you both know why, you just won’t let me say. We both know that we don’t like having food inside my body, because it’s a failure and the sad thing is I’ve learnt to believe you. I want my calorie intake to have gone up a bit so that my weight goes up, but you make me believe it’s better if it’s lower and it’s bad if I eat more so I can’t maintain a weight and at 18 years old I’m the weight a 10 year old should be, please just let me be myself?
So yes, eating disorder this is for you. You’re not my friend at all, you already have done and will continue to ruin my life. I want to be me, but you’ve convinced me that my life is better with you in it. I know you won’t give me anything that I have just asked you for in this letter but I wanted to try. I guess you won’t stop until you’ve won, but trust me you already have and soon we’ll end up in hospital together if you don’t stop, but I guess that’s what you want. Everyone tells me to beat your voice in my head, but they don’t know it is constant battle I have with you. In a sad sort of way you’re the only one who will ever understand this battle, but that’s because you made the rules up yourself… I just wish you could make everyone else understand them too, so that they can help me a bit more! But hey, eating disorder this is me and you on this battle. For now it’s you in control, but trust me one day it’ll be me in control, just you wait… Dear eating disorder.
Not so much love,
Iesha