“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”

Dear Me of Christmas Present,

“‘You fear the world too much,’ she answered gently. ‘All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of soridid reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off, one by one, until the master passion, Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?”

It’s Christmas 2016. Life is a little bit messy right now, and Christmas may not be all plain sailing. Be brave. Be strong. Say yes. Trust that it will not be this way forever. Smile. Eat those advent chocolates. Know that the fight you fight now will ensure you your next Christmas and the ones that will follow; not every lead up to Christmas will be spent in the cold waiting room of Marlborough hospital and the stiflingly warm, claustrophobic ward of an eating disorder unit. 

In other news (sadly it’s somewhat limited, because anorexia kind of dominates right now…) you’ve recently rehomed another dog…and you whole-heartedly intend to dress your gingernuts up as reindeers! You’ll decorate the tree, and you’ll wear your Christmas jumper, and you’ll place your stocking outside your room – because tradition is, and always will be, tradition. And you’ll smile, because there will be glimmers of hope, glimmers of innocence, glimmers of a Christmas past, where illness wasn’t present. And you’ll smile, because you know that one day, someday, things may well be different. And just as little you refused to give up that stocking, 21 year old you, in all your terrified uncertainty, will refuse to give up hope that maybe 2017 can be different, maybe the Christmases that follow will include desserts and indulgence, stuffing galore and leftover turkey suppers. You’ll hope that the Christmases that follow will see you lose the fear of cooking your veg with other peoples’…because salt is just salt and contamination is the biggest falsity around. You’ll hope that the Christmases that follow will, once more, see you sticking star anise into the ham without fear of unknown calories at your fingertips. You’ll hope that one day, someday, Christmas will be Christmas, in its magic and its happiness, its indulgence and calories – uncounted, of course. You’ll hope that one day, someday, Christmas will be measured in memories and smiles, once more, rather than numbers and meal plans, portion guides and nutritional value. There are many things greater than the back of a packet…and we never did like maths. 

You’ll make paper snowflakes in front of the fire, and drape fairy lights round every surface. Yes, you should have started your MA in September, instead you got your latest referral to an eating disorder unit, but, for the first time in a very long time, you're actually making progress. Instead of collecting essay marks, you’ve started needle-felting, and no, it’s not “academically challenging”, and no, its worth can’t be measured in a grade or percentage, but you enjoy it, and that’s worth more. Instead of revising for January exams, you're about to be admitted as a day patient on the eating disorder ward, not because you're weak, but because you've fought so bloody hard for so bloody long, and now it's time to accept how unwell you really are. Be brave, current me. Be brave, because you deserve to be present. 

Your friends make you burst with pride multiple times a day, everyday. You’re not sure how, or why, or what you did to deserve such wonderful people in your life, but, despite it all, they have a way of making you happier than you could ever have imagined. Jake’s okay. You’ll drink champagne on Boxing Day with your second family…because, well: tradition. Let Christmas in, maybe just a little. Let yourself LIVE, Yas…even just a little. If not now, when? 

Take care current me.

You’re stronger than you seem. And you don’t believe that yet, but you ARE still fighting, day in, day out.

When everything seems impossible and you’re lost in the fog, just try to remember, tradition is, and always will be, tradition.