See: To perceive with the eye, to be conscious of what is around you byusing your eyes

At the end of 2012 I was diagnosed with vocal chord dysfunction, a severe anxiety symptom, born from my high levels of anxiety at the time. Basically, whenever I had a panic attack (which was at least once a night) my vocal chords would begin to close over and I would struggle for breath. That, along with asthma and an inability to calm down and regulate my breathing, made for a rough few months with far too many ambulance rides.

I spent the following weeks in and out of doctors and counselling, the first to prescribe Lorazepam for acute attacks and the second, to put mental steps in place to alleviate the stress and begin breathing exercises. As my partner would attest to, these were not easy times. The amount of sleepless nights, uncontrollable shaking, crying, outbursts of anger and weight loss only added to his own stress of university, and together we became very reclusive.

This isn't to say that we weren't happy, we were just struggling and treading the ever deepening water of our relationship. We went to social gatherings when we were needed and most people were none the wiser of what we were going through as a couple. I like to think that I was the victim of my anxiety but unfortunately, it has a contagious effect when you live with someone else.

Thankfully to his resilience and many of my close friends, I was able to gain confidence over my anxiety and come off the Lorazepam and learn to control attacks through regimented breathing exercises and yoga. I continued to take Venlafaxine for depression and Quetiapine as an anti-psychotic/sleep aid in the hopes that I would also be able to work my way up to removing them from my daily intake. 

A month ago I stopped taking the Quetiapine as I was becoming reliant on it to sleep. Not only that, I also found myself abusing it if I had a particularly hard day or simply couldn't deal with the pain inside. It became increasingly easy to just knock myself out instead of facing my problems. I would wake up groggy and and see traces as though I had been on an LSD bender the night before. I was having nightmares that I couldn't shake all day and was confusing dream with reality. Some days were so foggy that I literally couldn't remember what I had for breakfast or how I got wherever it was that I was going to. I lost weeks of memories and conversations all from a tiny pink habitual pill. 

Although this last month has been a bit of a blur it makes me realise all the things I've seen but didn't get a chance to see. I was there, it happened, but I didn't truly see what was happening. Just like others see me out at a dinner or at a party, they only see surface value, not what is underneath. It never ceases to amaze me how little we actually see of the world around us and just how little we really know our peers. People are often heard saying to someone feeling negatively about themselves "I wish you saw yourself how I see you" or "If only you could see what I see". To even begin to see yourself as others do takes immense courage and strength. Too often we base opinions of others on gossip and hearsay, using our ears and not our own eyes. The same can be said for when we try to see ourselves the way our loved ones do. We only focus on our own bias opinions of ourselves and wade through layers of insecurities and self instated flaws so by the time we reach our outer beautiful selves, all we see are the flaws. When others look at us, they don't have these negative layers smearing their view they only see the outside.

I did not consult my physician before I ended my love/hate relationship with Quetiapine however I discussed it in great detail with my counsellor. I in no way advise anyone else to stop taking prescribed medication without first consulting your doctor. I am still working on building up a healthy, unassisted sleeping regime and hope to eventually wean myself off caffeine and high concentrate sugars as well.

As the great Mrs Beauregarde said "Eyes on the prize violet, eyes on the prize."

Anon Guest Post: Eating Disorder

They called me fat, and I believed it. Not only did I believe that, but nothing I ever did was good enough for the standards I set myself.
 What started as a diet turned into waking up one morning and literally telling myself I would not eat anymore. I exercised whenever I could, I would throw my lunch in bins, I lied, I deceived, I would not allow myself to sleep until I had done 500 sit-ups. I forced my fingers down my throat ten times a day, not even binging. I felt unworthy of even having water enter my body. I was weak, I was cold, and I felt alone, I spent my days counting calories, hiding food, being scared of gaining weight, thinking about how I was going to keep my secrets hidden from the people I love most.
It felt amazing to be good at something, and it felt even better to see the number on the scale go down. But this was always a temporary feeling, until the voice in my head would be telling me I was too fat, ugly, and a waste of space. I felt worthless; I wanted nothing more than to disappear. It began with people complimenting me but quickly turned into people begging me to eat. Eventually I was forced into hospital treatment, and remember having an ECG and being told that if I did not start eating I would die. I had a 40% chance of having a heart attack at any time, and I was going to need to gain over 10kg to get discharged. I cannot begin to describe how confusing and alone you feel when everyone is trying to make you eat, love yourself, and gain weight, when the person looking back at you in the mirror is your own enemy. There is literally a voice in your mind feeding you with negative thoughts, but you have no idea that it is destroying you. You cannot simply “just eat”.
I was going to the hospital five days a week, getting blood tests every second day, and regular heart tests. I was put on bed rest at home and was not allowed to do any physical activity. My mum was so scared that she was going to wake up to find me dead because I was so weak. I had no idea how bad my health was, and it is only recently that I can understand how close to death I really was. It is even scarier to admit that I wanted to die. There was an incident where I fainted at home when I was alone, I then drank some water and punished myself for this by purging. This was somewhat of a turning point for me. Did I want this to be me for the rest of my life? I had dreams, and I had goals, and with the amazing support from my family and friends my voice started to become stronger than anorexia. I gained the weight I needed too, got discharged from the services I was under, and then did some extensive counselling to deal with the mental side of the illness, rather than just the symptoms. It was the hardest journey I have ever been on, and I am lucky to be ‘recovered’, and even help people going through the same sort of things.
I would be lying if I said I love my body and I never feel fat and I never struggle. Most of the time I have no issues; some days I need to remind myself how far I have come, and that eating something unhealthy is not going to make me gain ten dress sizes. I have actually turned my focus and life around in the sense that I am motivated to be fit and healthy. I exercise 4-5 times a week, eat healthy, feel the best I ever have about my appearance, and hope that I can stay this way for the rest of my life.
Recovery can seem scary, and it is. But trust me when I say it is worth it. You begin to see the beauty of life again, the reasons why you exist and that your existence and worth is nothing to do with the number on a scale. Smash the scale if it helps, because it is nothing. And you are worth everything. Beauty is more than skin deep; your personality, your laugh, your goals, your dreams, your wishes, they are all beautiful. Everyone has scars, but scars tell a story and are nothing to be ashamed of. When the battle gets tough, do not give up because there is so much waiting on the other side. It does not matter how long it takes you to get there.

Vulnerable: exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.

It's so easy to look back on who we could, would and should love, because as a whole, we are so terrible at it. I alone have spent countless hours sobbing into pillows and wholeheartedly believing I am not good enough, all because my love was not reciprocated or was mistreated in some way. We spend far too much time changing ourselves to fit someone else's criteria and focusing our love like a laser beam, instead of broadening its vicinity to include ourselves.
Recently I have been reading Daring Greatly by Brené Brown and how the courage to be vulnerable transforms the way we live, love, parent, and lead. When I look at times that I have felt the most vulnerable or the most shame, it is usually around falling in and out of love or not feeling loved enough personally. Times when I truely believed in my heart of hearts I am not capable of loving because I am not capable of being loved. In her book (or for those more visually inclined, her videos) she talks about how essential it is to embrace vulnerability as a key to 'engage with the world from a place of worthiness" and having the courage to let ourselves be seen.

Along with Brené Brown's wisdom (and some Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert), I have also been delving into Gary Chapman's 1995 book - The 5 Love Languages. It may sound nonsensical, but it discusses how we mirror the way we want to be loved by the way we love others around us using either physical touch, gifts, words, quality time or acts of service. For instance, I adore buying people small, thoughtful gifts or writing them uplifting notes. It makes me feel good to point out others strengths and telling them how they positively effect my life. So it comes as no surprise that my main love language is a very strong 'Words of Affirmation' followed by:
2. Receiving Gifts
3. Acts of Service
4. Physical Touch
5. Quality Time

The beautiful thing when you take the test (linked above) is there are no right or wrong answers and it by no way defines your love, it is merely a resource to help you recognise others love languages and strengthen your relationship with them. I've met so many people who chase after this fabled diamond ring, like a goal to tick off a 'to do' list, instead of looking further at what it intrinsically means. What good is a ring if you don't have a solid foundation on which to hold its significance up with? How can you offer someone the rest of your life when you don't take the time to be present in right now? For me, I know I first need to dare greatly to achieve a healthy level of worthiness and wholeheartedness before I can offer my love. Always commit to yourself before committing to someone else.

Learning how to love is not something you can be taught by someone else, it's something you discover on your own. But I had some advice for my younger self I would say:

- Protect your love from those who would mistreat it
- Love who you want to openly and freely, knowing it is your love to give
- Love infinitely
- Have the courage to share and express your love

- Always know that you yourself are loved

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly"

-Theordore Roosevelt