I’m starting this post off by saying I’m well and truly exhausted at the moment. I’m at work tomorrow and really should be switching off for the night and trying to relax before the day arrives however, instead I feel compelled to write.
I’ve been feeling a little lost in my blog as of late, some of you more long term readers might have noticed a subtle shift in my words. I’ve been struggling to pin point what’s been causing the uneasiness, part of me even considered if this was my season of blogging drawing to a close. I’m starting to think I’ve cracked where things have been going a bit wonky, I think I’ve took my eyes off the real reason for this blog.
Lost In The Story was created as an outlet for my recovery of anorexia, a safe place where I could just talk to other people and no one at all. This blog started off anonymously, no one knew who I was. I was simply a girl fighting an eating disorder and trying to find God in the mess of it all. I was a science student with no plans for the future, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted a future. Eventually though a small community developed here, whilst we’re only a small group I think I do truly have the kindest and most encouraging readers going – you’re all amazing.
The first year of my blog passed and I finished my science qualification and decided to do an extra year and study business. I started to take my blog more seriously in this year, I was learning more and more and soon was putting what I learned into practice here. I felt more empowered to try and turn this into a potential side job one day. I was still sharing my faith and my struggles but I think this was the first real stumble for me. I said right when I first started that this blog was never about making money, it was about sharing God and all the amazing things he was doing in my life. Continue reading “Where you stand”→
At my house there’s only a handful of things you’ll see on our TV: Top Gear (or the Grand Tour when the new season comes out!), Yorkshire vet and some sort of Mega build type program. We’re most certainly creatures of habit in our house when it comes to the goggle box.
I myself am a creature of habit, I simply do not like sudden changes. However, since August we’ve been through some pretty major and harsh ones.
If you’ve every met me in real life you will know how hard it is for me to go through periods of change. More often than not I will have private break downs behind closed doors and be running off a constant supply of anxiety for the weeks after it. Change and me do not mix well.
I feel sorry for God in someway during these times of change. I’ve started trying to picture God as this big, warm comforting farther figure and me a small child who’s sitting on his lap (I got this idea from a book called Bloom by Beauty Beyond Bones). During these times of change I always picture myself as the small child squirming, lashing out and wailing with pain, but God’s big strong arms hold me close in a loving embrace. My tiny fists don’t even phase him and slowly I wear out of energy, my crying stops and God just holds me in love. Change is painful for me and boy God has heard my cries more than enough time about it. Continue reading “My relationship with change”→
Having divorced parents means that it’s quite rare my mum and dad will see eye to eye on a subject. However, there are the occasions where their advice compliments one another’s. One of these times came in the form of me sharing my faith with my peers.
I really like telling people about God, especially my friends. If I care about you in the slightest, I’ll want you to know God and what Jesus did for you on the cross.
This week I’ve been completing work experience as part of my college course. I’ve been at a fantastic place called ‘Designs in mind‘. They’re a designer and maker studio refered through mental health services.
I have another week left at the studio and I can say that I’m throughly looking forward to it. The project is just amazing and they’re making such a positive impact in people’s lives and the in the local community.
During this week I’ve had a lot of time for relection on my bus journey home. After talking with some of the people there I’ve looked back on my own path and my mental health and wondered how I’ve made it this far. Continue reading “How I’ve made it this far”→
Yes you did read the title right, I did say feral kitten.
Last night my brother brought back a kitten from work, a very angry, scared kitten.
He is a ranger at a Nation Trust property. One day by their workshop they discovered some kittens. These guys weren’t your average domesticated kitty’s though, these were the equivalent of farm cats. They had no contact with people and hunted for their own food, the ones that will try to claw your face off if you try to pet them.Wild moggys are great for keeping the mice population down in the castle, so they decided to leave them and let them do what they were designed to do, hunt and kill.
My brother told me about them a week or two ago and we thought nothing more of it, untill last night.
Meet our latest house guest.
This angry, hissing, spitting, ball of rage is one of the kittens from the castle. Unlike the others though, it wasn’t from the workshop. This little was found alone by some dustbins on its last legs.
As tough as my brother acts, he has a soft heart so he volunteered to take the kitten to the vets to see if it could be helped. It was estimated that the little thing was only about 7 weeks old. With no mum or strength, there was no way it could hunt and would be dead within the nest few days due to the cold nights and lack of food.
As mentioned before though, cats are good at the property as it keeps the rodent population down, so it as decided that the kitten would be helped and one day let back onto the property. This is where my brothers big heart got the better of him and he volunteered to look after the mite untill Monday where he’s pass it on to one of his work colleges as she wanted a turn with the kitten.
That’s how we ended up with the small ball of rage in our home.
Here’s the thing though.
We have been trying to look after this kitten. We’ve been feeding it, giving it kitten milk from the shop, made it a home in a big cardboard box with a ticking clock, put a hot water bottle wrapped in blankets in with it so it can have some sort of warmth, but its terrified of us. All it does is hiss, spit, growl and swipe at us and let me tell you something, kittens have sharp claws.
This is too be expected.
In its short life, it’s never been cared for, it’s never been looked after or had interaction with humans.
It’s terrified of us and all it can do is defend itself from people who’s trying desperately to keep it alive.
It’s amazing how something so small can teach us such a big lesson.
In some ways I saw a lot of my own behaviors in that kitten.
Have I been looked after and cared for throughout my life? Yes, 100%. However, I have been very independent when it came to my problems.
Take my anxiety as an example.
As my anxiety increased over the past 7 years, I ran and isolated myself. Like the kitten found alone behind some bins, I had done the same and just like the kitten I hadn’t had the strength or life experience to survive. I developed anorexia and have been in a bad way physically for a while.
But then someone found me.
I’ve known God for 2 years but recently it feels like I’ve been found again. Gods scooped me up and taken me to safety.
Just like that kitten, who has us as a family trying to help it, I have people around me trying to help in the form of my church. But I’ve never had a church before. I’ve never had this sort of friendship and if I’m honest, it’s terrifying.
I’m left lashing out and pushing people away from my church because I’ve never had a church before. It’s new and scary and I don’t like it, my anxiety is seriously getting the better of me.
The doubts, the fear, the confusion, the suspicion, the anger and the pain just leaves me hiding away from this group of people who ultimately just want to help.
The saddest thing is, I’ve only just saw this.
I have no idea how to let them in though.
I’m really worried and scared.
I’m lonely and on my last legs. I’m fighting my eating disorder every day, I’ve gained weight and am slowly becoming healthier. It’s a slow process but I’m taking the right steps to get better.
However, my anxiety has shot through the roof and it’s the worst it’s ever been in all of my life.
I’m a mess.
I feel like a terrified, small, vulnerable kitten who hasn’t got a clue wha to do next. I want to hide in a small dark space and defend myself from anyone who gets too close.
But I’m so lonely and completely unable to get through this on my own.
I’m desperate for friendship and meaningful relationships, especially with my church.