Fatal Reflection

Chrissy Cahill

Description

Fatal Reflection is not a crime novel but has criminal overtones in that the main character is assaulted by a relentless killer, Anorexia Nervosa. Alexandra takes us, chapter by chapter, through her relentless fight against a determined enemy. She tells it how it is, does not shy away from exposing her own weaknesses, nor does she underestimate the ferocity of the battles she must win. Her writing skill allows us into her private world where she paints vivid pictures of skirmishes and battles, not only with Anorexia, but also the medical authorities. She gives an honest and factual account of her battle with this deadly disease which may help sufferers, carers and particularly professionals to understand a little more about it. First, know your enemy.

Sujets

• Sociologie, société et politique
• Abnormal psychology

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 29 novembre 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528972260
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Fatal Reflection
Chrissy Cahill
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-11-29
Fatal Reflection About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Alexandra Wrote: My Dream Alex Said It for Me I Miss Her so Much Alexandra Wrote: What I Remember Being a Child Alexandra Wrote: What Made a Diet Progress to Anorexia? Alexandra Wrote: Alexandra Wrote: Happy Alexandra Wrote: Moods Alexandra Wrote: Mr Minx 2 Alexandra Wrote: Mr Minx Alexandra Wrote: Lunch Alexandra Wrote: Weighing Alexandra Wrote: Anorexia Alexandra Wrote: Leaving Alexandra wrote: Alexandra Wrote: Treatment Alexandra Wrote: Sadness Alexandra Wrote: Recovery Alexandra Wrote: Help Alexandra Wrote: Depression Alexandra Wrote: Feelings This Is an Extract from Her Diary Alexandra Wrote: The Demon Within Alexandra Wrote: What to Expect Alexandra Wrote: Mum Alexandra Wrote: My Fight Alexandra Wrote: Please Believe in Me Alexandra Wrote: Why Alexandra Wrote: Who Am I Alexandra Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote: Daily Battles with Anorexia Alexandra Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote: Moving Forward Alexandra Wrote: Letting Go Alexandra Wrote in Her Diary, December 2002 Alexandra Wrote in Her Diary, End of January 2003 Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote: Go and Catch a Falling Star Alexandra Wrote: Goodbye Alexandra Wrote: Two Images Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote: Job Description Alexandra Wrote: Last Steps Alexandra Wrote: A Letter to Anorexia Alexandra Wrote: Future Thoughts Alex Said: Alex Wrote in Her Diary, 8 th April 2007 Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alex Wrote in Her Diary Alexandra Wrote: What Prompted Diet in First Place Unhappy with Body Shape What Maintains It Triggers Obstacles Fear of Change Pros of Getting Well Alex Wrote in a Tiny Notebook
About the Author
Chrissy Cahill was born in Hackney, North London, in 1950 to working-class parents. She was the youngest of three children having an elder brother and sister. Her mother suddenly died when she was 13 and as her father, brother and sister were working, she had to mainly look after herself. This gave her confidence and an ability to tackle and solve problems.
She worked as a civilian admin officer in the police and later in the motor industry as a personal assistant. During this period, she trained as a race marshall at Brands Hatch racing circuit. She also undertook training in counselling and subsequently did voluntary work in family abuse matters.
She married twice and is now retired, living in Essex with her husband, where she spends time visiting her five grandchildren, gardening and looking after her two Miniature Schnauzer dogs.
Dedication
For my daughter Alexandra, who I miss so much.
For Roger for giving me much support.
For Claire who Alexandra was so proud of.
For David Alexandra’s brother-in-law, who was also her hairdresser.
Copyright Information ©
Chrissy Cahill (2019)
The right of Chrissy Cahill to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528948463 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528972260 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ


In the great scheme of things, funerals are a very common occurrence. The deceased perhaps knows nothing of what is occurring, many of the mourners are only giving lip service and the officials are just doing their job. To attend the funeral of one’s child is not generally a common occurrence and is never forgotten by the chief mourners.
My daughter battled with anorexia for 18 years, and at the age of 33, she lost her struggle to this dreadful disease, and I said farewell to my beloved Alexandra on 31 st March 2009, at 11.00 am.
The crematorium was packed; the attendance was well over 100 people, except for the immediate family. Representatives came from eating disorder units, and Maidstone Hospital; she was so well loved and admired. The flowers were so beautiful and so many.
I felt numb, helpless, isolated and so alone. No parent should bury their child. My emptiness will always be with me, she was my best friend, and I sense she walks beside me and holds me close; one day, we will be together again. I would like to share this with you, this was her dream.
Alexandra Wrote: My Dream
I’d love to be a bird, flying free right through the sky, swooping round and round and up and down and going low and high.
My wings spread wide, flapping up and down as I fly over houses, trees, fields and towns.
The breeze blows my feathers as I fly along, and my eyes face down, so I see what’s going on.
I scan the fields to find my prey which is something I do every day.
It sounds quite nasty to kill to eat, but I must do it and it’s no mean feat.
It feeds my mind and gives me strength, to continue my journey and fly for great lengths.
The morning sun shines strong and bright, and as a new day dawns, I take my flight, I prepare my take off and swoop down low and I spread my wings as it’s what I know.
The freedom of flying leaves a feeling of peace.
This sky is all mine, clouds show me the way, the breeze pushes me forward and creates a great day.
Birds are strong creatures that seem happy and free and all I desire is for that description be of me.
Alex Said It for Me I Miss Her so Much
I would like you, the reader, to take her hand, as Alexandra walks you through her tortuous, and destructive journey, to silence the inner voice that was her constant companion. Her writings are her feelings and experiences, her memoirs, she left to help us understand.
This is my daughter, Alexandra, born on the 6 th May 1975, at 11.57 am. Describing your child shouldn’t be difficult, but it is. You are so proud when you hear those first screams, when coming away from the security of your womb, a life, the bonding, the softness of their new skin, the security they feel when close to you. Being so proud and so looking forward to the excitement of showing her off. Alex was 8lb when born, only slightly heavier than her sister, she walked at about a year old. Her sister Claire was always close to her from the moment I brought her home, Alex had a beautiful smile, which would melt any trace (of anger) from you if you were cross. She was loyal, warm, caring and shy; she never liked people to stare at her, that would upset her, she hated being teased. She was very strong-willed, diligent and a high achiever. Her headmistress wrote, “Alexandra is conscientious, makes excellent use of her abilities, she is quiet, courteous and thoughtful and an excellent member of her form.” Such a lovely appraisal, like any mother you are so proud. Don’t get me wrong, there were times that Alex controlled, and on reflection, she used her strength on herself.
Her sister Claire, who was born in the same month, but nearly two years her senior, is very loving, considerate and adored her new sister. When Alexandra came along, she would do everything to assist me in helping and showing Alex the things she had learnt. The difference was Claire had patience; if it didn’t go right for Alex, the stubborn side would show (I will not give in, this square peg will go into that round hole), not quite as bad as this, but I think you get my meaning?
Alexandra grew to be a lovely child; at school, in primary, she had a very close friend, he adored her, they were best mates, in fact, a lot of her friends were boys. Umm, it must have been that smile and her eyes. If she wanted a pencil, he would be the one to ask, he loved her to bits and she knew it, great fun.
Alexandra Wrote: What I Remember Being a Child
I remember the games we played, hide and seek and forty forty.
I remember going out on my bike and cycling as fast as I could, faster and faster, then taking my feet off the pedals and letting the speed of the bike take me further along the pavement.
I remember playing with my favourite doll; putting it in the pram and taking it for a walk, feeling proud of my pram with its shiny wheels and the basket underneath to put shopping in.
I remember going to school and playing games in the playground, I went on the slide and the climbing frame, I played hopscotch and skipping and kiss chase with the boys and I did cartwheels on the grass, then I stood still when the bell rang before we all walked back to class.
Long holidays, happy days of freedom, frolics and fun.
I remember making sand castles on the beach, paddling and swimming in the sea, messing around in the dinghy and getting brown in the sun.
I remember going shopping in the supermarket and throwing everything I wanted into the trolley.
I remember enjoying my food…all food – sweets, chocolates, crisps, roast dinners, chips, and I helped bake cakes so afterwards I’d lick the spoon.
I remember taking my dog for a walk every day before and after school. I’d run along the path with her and throw sticks, telling her to ‘fetch’ even though she never did.
I remember Christmas days and birthdays with lots of presents and festiv