Guest Post: One Piece of Advice to a Chronic Illness Sufferer

Moving house brings about a naturally busy time for anybody but coupled with chronic illness makes for quite the uncertain and worrisome situation - c'est difficile. Last week I felt an incredible surge of glum wash over me, as I reluctantly came to the realisation that I wouldn't be able to give the love and attention that I perhaps would have wanted, to my blog during the change over. Just as I was sitting down with the intention to write out a short and sweet post explaining why I would be absent in the coming weeks, I had somewhat of a lightbulb moment and decided that instead of leaving this space to gather dust throughout February, apart from a very special something on the 14th wink-wink, that I would call upon a few of my talented and generous friends to pitch in and write some guest posts to keep things ticking along.

This one is from Em; a 24 year old beauty guru in the making and fellow chronic illness sufferer who, through the lower points over the last year, became one of my closest friends and a source of endless support - aren't I lucky? Emma documents her life with chronic illness and all that she has to say about anything and everything on her blog, Emma Drusilla. I'm actually really pleased that she was happy to write a guest post as it gives me the perfect opportunity to share her new, top-notch YouTube channel which, if you haven't already, I'd definitely urge you to give it a visit and big ol' hit of that subscribe button.

Hi to all of the lovely Rachel's followers! My name is Emma, I'm 24 and I suffer from ME. Thank you to Rachel for asking me to write this guest post today.

Before I was diagnosed with ME around two years ago, I had an active and normal social life. It wasn’t unusual for me to do a day at university, go for dinner afterwards, go to the pub in the evening the next day and, on the odd occasion, take the 15 mile trip into Brighton to go clubbing until the (not so) early hours. In doing this I had no second thoughts about energy, no second thoughts about the anxiety of feeling unwell or if who I was with would understand - as most people don’t.
Then ME struck and life very quickly changed. Feeling alone and misunderstood with an invisible illness, even my GP’s didn’t seem to know what was going on - so I turned to the internet. Googling turned to forums, forums turned to blogs and blogs turned to social media. After reading the blogs of very inspirational girls online I started following them on Instagram. I never imagined that this could have turned into an outpouring of support from the ‘spoonie’ community, many followers going through the same thing and most unbelievably, friends.

It’s easy to bond with someone who has been through an experience as unique as yours. To find people who know exactly what you’re going through is one thing but what took me most by surprise was how extraordinary each one of these people are and not just because of their illness or battle with adversity but because they are caring, insightful, hilarious, ambitious and so intelligent. We all live in various locations across the country, even across the world, and would never have met or become friends under any other circumstances but I feel so privileged to know them and be part of their community. It hurts to see such incredible people be held back by their illness, I can guarentee chronic illness is not the plight of the lazy, but it’s brilliant rooting for them and sharing in their triumph and successes.

When you have a chronic illness you get all sorts of advice. Advice from your Doctor to stop worrying; advice from your family to get out and have a walk; advice from strangers to try ‘magic pills’ because the Daily Mail says so. My advice to a new sufferer is simple: get online. Not only is there a whole community there with helpful first hand advice and experience but most importantly there are amazing people you are going to want to know.What brought us together was illness but what keeps us together is friendship - that’s a great medicine. x

Be-you-tiful

Body confidence was something that I contemplated blogging about when I initially planned 'Smell the Roses', but it's bubbled to the surface lately after the release of the song 'All about that bass' last month, causing bloggers to type eagerly away at their laptops in a frenzy to join in with all the nitty gritty. 

These days 'real beauty' or 'real women' are terms that are thrown around as often as 'skinny' and 'petite' and while I'm very fond of the whole born-beauty metaphor, I struggle to feel comfortable with the common misconception that we look to the use of the word 'real' as a positive affirmation of body image.

In my early-mid teens I was somewhat of a late bloomer, my jeans hung loose across my hips and I wasn't yet busty enough to fill the cups of a AA. For a long time I didn't really take too much notice of that fact that I resembled a much more similar shape to my best guy friend than that of the majority of female peers. I can't seem to pinpoint exactly when I became body conscious; I just remember feeling more and more unformed and inadequate as a woman.
For a few years I willed my concave stomach to curve so that my tops might hug me in that way that they 'real'ly should. I felt no place of comfort amongst my friends, who were busy bickering over who would win the award for the chubbiest arms, as they labelled me confident for not sharing in their puppy fat years, innocently overlooking the guilt I felt for my inability to be good enough; to be womanly.

Isolated by these nagging feelings I decided to ask myself why I felt so meagre, solely because I didn't slot comfortably into the 'real' beauty category. I was real, I didn't participate in any fad diet, or restrict myself to sucking on one watermelon segment a day, nor did I take up my Grandma's suggestion of supplementing my smarties with chicken fillets. I was just me, flat chested, straight up and down - little me.

This skewed definition of beauty is no more healthy than that of which it was designed to counteract, yet we open-heartedly applaud anybody who chooses to rock this mantra. To me, there's some disunity about it all. 

What seems to be deemed too tough to chew is that insecurity does not discriminate. It does not favour those who are conscious of weight, height or skin, it affects every-body, regardless of size. We could have the juiciest of J-Lo curves, the tiniest waist band, but there would always be that one thing about ourselves that we struggled to feel confident about. So why is it that we are so quick to assume that skinny is equal to happiness? 

I don't dispute that women with love handles, gapless thighs and spare tyres are sexy, and that they should attempt to attain hollowed middles and sullen cheeks, rather that they are just as beautiful as those without. The slimmer girls among us are in no way unremarkable because we have less booty to shake. 

So, if we have to cling to the word 'real', then let's not relate it to any physical attribute, instead that gentle moment when a woman knows her own body and accepts her naked self, feeling empowered and confident in her skin.

Nowadays when I look in the mirror I see something pretty special. So although I will always hold a slight distain for the wrinkles that gather across my forehead, and the knobbliness of my knees, I really like having blue eyes and it may not be Kim K's but I have been blessed with a damn fine derriere - there, I said it! So, with that in mind, I'm asking you to have a kind look at yourself and leave a comment below to let me know which of your features you feel are simply too good not to share - let's celebrate each other <3 

BE YOU TIFUL

What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail?

The fear of failure is all consuming, it is the biggest barrier to our happiness and self fulfillment. But what if failure was no object? What life-changing decisions would you make? 

Fear of failing essentially boils down to a fear of shame. If we let it, failure highlights the limit to our capabilities, it makes us wonder about others' opinion of us, even our own opinion of ourselves. But in reality, failure is no more final than success and it is actually a crucial part in the learning process. 

We might not like to admit that there are often times when we don't even consider trying in case we stumble. We miss out on opportunities to flourish and become the person we would really like to be, choosing security instead. The only way to break the cycle is to decide that what we want to do is more significant than the anxiety. The key is to reinvent ourselves, move out of our cramping comfort zones and launch into whatever it is that we have been so stubbornly avoiding - the place where the magic happens. Failure is inevitable in a person's lifetime, but we don't have to let it signify the end of the road, just an unplanned change in direction. 

This is not my first attempt at a blog, in fact it's the third, simply because each time that I've chosen a template and hit the publish button on my first or second post the ugly self critic has reared his head and I've retracted it for some small reason or another. But this time I decided to give myself a little nudge and an almighty pep talk to encourage me to realise that perhaps the biggest mistake I could make would be that I was too afraid to make one. 

Who knows where it'll take me <3