How's your year been?

I am well aware that I've been absent for much of the past year as I continue to battle with PTSD, chronic anxiety and depression - so this post is just to say that I am still here, guys, and that if living with an eating disorder in the family for year on year has had a damaging effect on your mental health, you are not alone!

7 months on, I am still here guys...

I've had a tricky 7 months since my last post. My son is fine, going from strength to strength, whereas my own mental health and PTSD has been going in the other direction and I've found it impossible to write about or face anything to do with eating disorders. I have also been referred for more therapy in an attempt to get my head sorted out and get rid of the effects of the years of trauma. In the meantime, I have started a companion blog. I've been meaning to do it for some time, but - like so many things at the moment - have found it too overwhelming. So I'm starting small, in bite size chunks. Just the odd thought that comes to mind - and, because cycling on my bike is about the only thing I can focus on these days, the focus of the blog is cycling to improve mental health. Check it out here. But be warned... there's not much on it at the moment because I'm taking things slowly...

I am still here, folks. Just needed a bit of time out from the world of eating disorders.

Over the last month or so I've found it impossible to even so much as glance at anything to do with eating disorders let alone do anything useful and worthwhile. I even had to make my excuses to the January meeting of the Men Get Eating Disorders Too charity at which I am a Trustee. I seriously couldn't face anything to do with eating disorders. Nothing. Zilch. Zero. So that's why I've been keeping a bit (or a lot) of a low profile for the past few weeks.

In 1993 the sheer enormity of the task I was about to undertake - impending motherhood - suddenly seamed impossible

In the summer of 1993 I remember walking along the South-West coastal path in South Devon. I was six months pregnant and my emotions were all over the place. I remember sitting down on a bench overlooking the sea and bursting out into tears. The reason? Because the sheer responsibilities of impending motherhood had just hit me like a ton of bricks. Did I have what it would take to be a good or even reasonably good mother to the son or daughter inside me? Even an average mother? The sheer enormity of the task I was about to undertake suddenly seamed impossible. With my hormones all over the place, I burst into tears and couldn't stop.