If you are what you eat, when did I eat a lunatic?

I had one of those days when you look in the mirror and in one day you have gained 2 stone. No exaggeration, on your thighs, your stomach, your face, sometimes even my elbows feel fat.

So with a holiday to Spain looming I decided we needed to start eating cleaner. No more eating out 4 times in one week and instead green smoothies, salads and nuts would rock my world.

The doctor told me that my anxiety will be made worse by caffeine, alcohol and smoking.. so I try to have decaf as much as possible and probably still drink and occasionally smoke as much as I usually did- but I’m only human and I friggin love mojitos.

So day 6 and apart from 3 meals out, a chocolate fondue, a few Easter eggs, we are green eating machines. Do I feel better? Yes actually I do. Is it in my head? Yeh probably. But at least my elbows feel slimmer. 

I have tried Slimming World so many times I could use the revolving door as body magic- (little slimming world humour for any members out there) but I can’t stick to it. James eats around 3000 calories a day and continues to stay so tiny and we live for 2 for 1 cocktails and groupon deals.

 But more importantly on some days I don’t even want to cook. My brain will be so fried or I am so scared about getting up that thinking about cutting the fat off bacon or cooking some tomato pasta will result in such a horrific panic attack and with so many knives in the kitchen- it just isn’t worth it. 

So on days that my elbows have rolls I need to remind myself, I lost my Mum, I have an mental illness and I am doing okay. My body is proof that I went through the worst time in my life and came out the other side. My chunky thighs kept me standing when all I wanted to do was fall. My lack of cheek bones and occasional chins supported me as I plastered on that fake smile that got me through the day. My soft and squishy body held my brother and sister safely and tightly in my bingo winged arms as we got through it together.

I’ve been through hell and back so it seems a little ridiculous to be worrying about losing weight. On that note I’m off to get a mojito- at least the mint and lime is green….

Because only vampires and Bridget Jones write diaries anymore

My name is Maddy and I lost my Mum three years ago in April. I was 19.

In that time I helped to raise my baby brother and sister. Supported my Nan through cancer, pneumonia and a heart attack. Got engaged, planned a wedding- broke up, cancelled said wedding. Gained 3 stone- lost one. (Although probably gained it back) Have had 5 jobs, 5 houses and more tinder dates than necessary.

But this year I moved in with a great man, celebrated my 22nd birthday and toasted our first year anniversary together. So many things have changed since I lost her but many haven’t.

I was diagnosed with panic and anxiety attacks shortly after she died and as I write this I truly can’t remember how bad I was at the beginning. Scars on my arms, broken friendships and painful flashbacks are all I hold with me from that time. I’m better but I’m not there yet.

And that’s why I’ve decided to write a blog- although it goes against everything I stand for and kinda want to punch myself in the face I need to write it down. I need to see how far I’ve come but that it’s okay to fall back.

My name is Maddy, I am 22, overwhelmed with anxiety, probably around the 13 stone 13 mark and in love with a gorgeous carpenter.