WHO THE BLOODY HELL AM I?

So here I am sitting twiddling my thumbs at work, re-reading ‘This is going to hurt’ by Adam Kay, for the fourth time and inspiration finally hits! Time to start the blog that has been written in my head for the last two years and share it with the world. I am clearly a fascinating human-being, and an insight into the life of ME is just what everyone needs… HA Bloody HA!

I like to think I am one of those humans who give off inspiration and positivity just by the opening of my mouth or the sweat from my pores, but, in reality I am just like one of the many millions of people who think they have something good enough to share with the world and make a difference. This blog is predominantly for my benefit, to grow my confidence and to remind myself how far I have come in the last three years both physically and mentally. Saying this, I am also rather self absorbed (clearly) and love myself enough (now) to think that my life story is interesting enough to write about, and when handfuls of friends respond to my ridiculous, over dramatised stories about my oh so stressful day, by saying, ‘bloody hell Tabby, you really should write a book on your life, it would be like a reality tv show’, it makes my little brain think a bit… but maybe we’ll start with a blog not a full blown novel for now. So here goes, the story of Me, Tabitha Bell.

I am in no way a wise owl, at the mere age of 22, I am practically still a child – at least I act like one most of the time, but pretty much since birth I have experienced more drama than most (ask my mother). I mean it’s all relative – how much drama can a middle class, privately educated white girl have had?! My drama growing up did not involve living on the streets, being malnourished or having a broken family. Far from it actually, I grew up in beautiful big houses, had delicious and nutritious meals cooked for me, and had the kind of family who would climb into bed together and fall asleep watching Mary Poppins at Christmas to avoid all the wrath of crazy grandparents! I have two incredible, bright, amazing, beautiful, perfect brothers who are now 25 and 18, and I do not know what I would do without them. My parents are wonderful and do more for me than I could possibly ask, they have been happily married for 26 years and I hope to follow in their footsteps… ONE DAY! I quite literally had the picture perfect upbringing, so how did I end up with a life which led to years of eating disorders, mental health problems and lack of respect for myself, especially, when it came to my love life? The question still remains unanswered!

From a very young age I was always slightly larger than my friends at school, looking back on this now I realise that was ridiculous and it was merely just a bit of puppy fat. But the rare comments from idiotic childish boys at school (some of whom are funnily enough my best friends, and have been for the last 12 years) stuck with me as a constant reminder that I was slightly different. So, when puberty came and smacked me in the face with a baseball bat age 13, out came ‘Kevin the teenager’, who proceeded to stay and cause havoc for the next SEVEN YEARS! My poor parents… more on those dreadful years later!

Every teenage girl faces general issues growing up, like how to get the boy you fancy in your art class to notice you, or how to roll your skirt up past your knickers without being told off at school. These are standard protocols, a right of passage even, that is expected and basically comes in the manual of, ‘How to be a teenage girl’, if that were to ever be written (maybe I’ll write it). I found myself pushing these to the extreme, and just being a normal teenager with normal teenage problems wasn’t an option. Thus began, the seemingly never ending catalyst of problems and disorders. Over the course of my schooling career, I developed everything from Bulimia, to Self Harm, to Depression and of course drinking myself into oblivion – a lot of which I think back then was just attention seeking and viewed as the ‘norm’. Each of these had their own severity, and have their own story, which I will discuss in more detail in my later blog posts. But, fast forward to present day. I am happy and healthy (most of the time) and live a generally rounded life. I think, in order to thrive and be really happy you need to have set backs and be knocked down a peg or ten. So I do not resent my issues and my past, but I view it as something I had to face straight up to, look it right in the eye, and tell it to fuck off! I am very aware of my past on a daily basis, as at times it becomes my present, but I have learnt how to manage it and to pre-empt the things in my life which trigger it.

So before I sign off and stop rambling. I would like to welcome my readers (if I have any) to this ridiculous blog I have written. I don’t want this to become a pity party for me and the shit I’ve been through, because it’s not that at all, yes, there may be times where it feels more like a diary and all gets a bit personal, but I want to discuss some of the harder hitting topics that are not deemed ‘socially acceptable’ yet and hopefully encourage other people to start speaking about it – because I know for a fact, I was one of a very large handful of young girls who went through these issues, and I count myself as one of the lucky ones.

Lots of Love x