Because When I Grocery Shop I Only Buy Condiments.

At 27 years old I find myself in the grocery store trying to buy food for the week ahead. It seems easy enough, everyone around me is doing it with ease.

The thing is, every time I get home I find myself stocking my fridge full of condiments. Ketchup, pickles, olives, ranch dressing…

Ask me why, someone as intellectual as I, is not able to grasp the concept of simple adult tasks. Basic common sense seems to elude me.

Along with the lack of such skills, I also have a hard time with change, building friendships and managing my moods.

I’ve been diagnosed with both high-functioning autism and bipolar disorder. It has been a wild ride.

A hilariously wild ride.

When I do get home and begin putting things away in the fridge, I realize exactly what I’ve done and every time I vow to do better.

On the good days I end up buying bread and can usually fix together some kind of sandwich.

So.

Now, finally after much debate back and forth between my ego, my pride and my fragile sense of self… I have decided to ask for help from the professionals that deal with this sort of thing.

This sort of living.

Impulsive on the seat of your pants, feeling everything so completely, loving, and hating, and dancing in the kitchen in your underwear at 3am, sort of living.

Was it difficult?

Yes, it took me at least 10 years to ask for the help I needed. To admit to myself that I couldn’t do certain things on my own. To admit to myself that I just didn’t seem to measure up to what a normal adult was supposed to be. That maybe, I didn’t fit into the box society wanted a productive member to fit so slenderly into.

It took me 10 years to remove the pressure I put on myself. The pressure to make my parents, my partner, my community proud.

I very slowly came to realize that the only person I was really hurting by pretending, was myself.

And, that any healthy person who loved me would understand. They would simply have to, and if they didn’t … well, that really didn’t matter anymore. What mattered is if I felt good.

What mattered, is if I felt safe in my own mind.

What mattered, is if I was living in a way that made me proud of myself.

Which brought me here, at the age of 27 asking for help to understand my own mental illness. With help buying groceries and making a list of priorities. Help with cementing a real routine, getting on the proper medications and finding the proper outlets.

Will I still buy a lot of condiments?

Probably.

But, now I’ll be that much closer to actually buying something to put them on as well.

—– seriously.

It’s not romanticizing mental illness. It’s trying to let you know all the small little things that happen.

All the good, the bad, the weird.

So that maybe if you are out there struggling you don’t feel so alone. That man, is a beautiful thing.

Keep living — keep growing — keep dancing in the kitchen at 3am.

You’re worth every minute of recovery and triumph and connecting.

 

Love to you all,

Carlee.

 

— you are loved. you are worthy. you are blessed. —

 

Too Fat To Blog?

“Am I too fat to blog?” the thought had crept into my mind the moment I got serious about blogging and building a brand. Creating online content means putting yourself out there in the form of video, picture, audio and written word. I wanted the blog to be fun, honest and bring value to my audience, but the very thought of starting, brought huge amounts of self-doubt and insecurity. As I gazed down at my body I questioned myself, am I too fat to blog, am I too fat to build a brand?

I had watched women of all sizes create amazing platforms on social media and to be honest, I hadn’t thought about their weight either positively or negatively. The reason I watched their content was because they provided value, humour, good-vibes and personally made me feel good while I consumed it.

The fear might sound irrational, because so many different types of people all over the world create successful brands and businesses everyday, regardless of their appearance…but it didn’t seem irrational to me at the time. I had looked up to major bloggers and brands with beautiful, strong  women running them. I was honestly worried that my appearance wouldn’t measure up and that my appearance is what mattered most.

I mean hell, I can fully admit to enjoying good food, often, and not exercising as regularly as I should, but should that stop me? Should it stop anyone ? 

The obvious answer is NO FREAKING WAY!

Anytime you put yourself out there on social media you have to be ready to put up with some level of criticism. What you shouldn’t have to put up with is believing those things long after the laptop has been closed, and you’re sitting at home wondering if you’re good enough.

It took a lot of journaling and taking time to figure out what exactly it was that I wanted to share with people. I am “The Self-Care Enthusiast”, after all…I can’t come to you honestly and say I don’t have doubts or insecurities. I can’t offer you only images of me in a designer bathing suit sprawled out suggestively on the beach (although, if you’re into that thing live it up, do you girl!). What I can offer you are seriously open and vulnerable blog posts about the good and the bad aspects of self-care, mental illness and entrepreneurship. I can be real with you, because sometimes that’s all we need.

So yeah, before I started the blog, my Instagram, the Facebook community and the brand as a whole, I was scared shitless because I thought I was too fat to be taken seriously. I write this while I eat a piece of pizza, after practicing a 30 minute yoga session in my spare bedroom. I’m finding balance babe, any way that I can.

I write this because there are a lot of us out there creating content and sometimes it’s nice to hear that other people are just as human as you. If you’re afraid to start, I’ve been there. My advice? Create the content, figure out why and who you’re creating it for and have fun with it all. If you aren’t having fun with it no-one else will.

Oh, and the best way to deal with an internet troll is the block button. Don’t give them the satisfaction darling, you’re worth so much more than that.

 

Love to you all,

Carlee.

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