All You Have To Do Is Ask

My knees hurt from the tile. My left hand clasps the porcelain, while my right has teeth marks on it. My heart races.

Just keep going. You did this to yourself. The cake I ate ten minutes ago fills the toilet while relief fills my head.

I finish, brush my teeth and stop to look at myself in the mirror. I've popped blood vessels in my face, they look like freckles. My mascara is running down my face. I leave the bathroom in disgust.

I try to write.

I can't. I'm shaking too badly. Tears fill my eyes.

I do what I don't want to-I call my sponsor.

"I've done it again. I drank last night. I didn't want to. I over ate last night. I didn't want to. I ate a cake this morning. I didn't want to. I threw it up. I didn't want to. I called you. I didn't want to."

Deep breath.


"I want help."


And that's all I've gotten since I said those words.

I called my best friend. She listened to me. She let me cry. She gave it to me straight, I need help, I've needed it for a while. She gave me love and understanding at my lowest point.

I recieved a call from an old friend who has a similar story, only thing different is she's no longer sick. She told me I'm not alone, that I can recover, she told me that I deserve happiness. And I'm tempted to believe her.

That night at a wedding I met a woman who's a recovering alcoholic. She told me her story of multiple relapses and how she's healthy now. She told me it's not going to be easy but that if I keep working, I'll get there.

The next day, Sunday, I went to church. The pastor spoke about God's love. How He loves us no matter what, no matter what I do, where I go, my sins, he's always there when I seek him. There's nothing you can't redeem. I needed to hear that.

Two women from my church prayed with me afterwards. They looked at me with sadness, understanding and hope in their eyes. Their words and prayers were full of love. They asked God to give me direction, to talk with me, to walk with me. They blessed me and my recovery.

Before I could leave the church Pastor James asked me how I was. He remembered my name and that I'm addict. He leaves for a three month sebatical and I was one of the last people he spoke to.

That evening I realized I could go to an ABA meeting so I grabbed my journal and raced out the door. I got there 5 minutes to 7 only to hear that it started at 6, I was an hour late, no one was there.

I called the one person I knew in the meeting, we have met once. She told me she was in Colorado, checking into an inpatient program for her ED. We talked for an hour like old friends with no abandon, we understand each other better than anyone else because of our struggle. I gave her hope to go to her first session tomorrow and she gave me  courage to call a friend for help.

I called that friend who I used to think was much more sick than I, turns out she's healthy and has been for a year. She got a number for a treatment center that's highly recommended and told me who to talk to and that she'd join me for my consolation.

I can't make this up even if I wanted to. God didn't leave my side for one second yesterday since I let go and said I can't do this on my own and he's not letting me.

Groundhog Day

She can feel her thighs sticking to the plastic booth, it’s uncomfortable and sparks immediate anger and self-loathing. 

Release is only moments away. It sits in front of her, teasing her. 

She looks away and tries to remember why she shouldn't give in.

The next thing she knows the glass in her hands and it's half gone.

She hears herself ask the waitress for another, then another.

This goes on for hours, but something’s wrong, she doesn’t feel better. 

The girl next to her is naturally pretty, strong, confident, everything she wishes she was and everything she feels she’s not. The girl sips her beer, then starts a conversation with strangers. How does she do that she wonders? How can she set the glass down? How come she's not nervous? How does she know what to say? What did she do to look that good? She wonders why she doesn’t look that way.

She asks for a shot. 

Something’s got to work.

Hours go by when suddenly the girl wakes up fuzzy. There are lights and dancing and laughter. She feels happy.

Look she thinks, everyone loves me, they are taking pictures with me, I have confidence, why was this so hard before? She wants another drink.

The rest of the night is a blur, there’s dancing, there’s talking to strangers, there’s more free booze, life is fucking great.

It gets dark.

She comes to in the kitchen, wrappers of food are everywhere, the fridge is open, the kitchen’s a mess. She feels sick.

It’s 6 am and the alarm is going off. Her mouth feels like sandpaper her head hurts she wants to not feel. Memories come back from the night before. She’s trying to look sober in pictures, she acts like she didn’t fall in the bathroom, she remembers the shots she took alone, the awkward conversations she put herself in and then the food she ate.

Regret, remorse, shame then hate floods her. She’s disgusted with herself. She’s shaking from the liquor, she gets sick and feels weaker. She sees her makeup is still on from the night before and her clothes on the floor she puts them back on and heads to work—time to play pretend.

She laughs at jokes, talks with everyone, does her job—last night never happened.

Works over, she’s home, alone. She wants a drink. She gets one. 

And well you know what happens next.

FackingMuthaFuckaFuck.

I’m fucking annoyed.
Why is the stupid lady next to me looking back and forth on the train and fidgeting. Why is the red head next to me rocking out and chewing gum like a damn cow. STOP MOVING PEOPLE. It’s fucking annoying. 

My right eye won’t stop watering. What’s that about. 

I’m really late for work. I should be there oh...now. 

I just couldn’t leave because I felt like I hadn’t accomplished anything. I didn’t workout so I was hoping to clean my apartment put up pictures on my barren walls etc. 

Well I tried putting up the damn sign I just bought but after losing two thumb tacks behind my bed and breaking one I got the stupid sign up which ironically says ‘LOVE’ in frilly fucking flowers.

I do not feel LOVE or FRILLY at the moment

But I finally get it up and it was fucking crooked-that's what she said-BAHAHAHA.

I just wanted to be able to come home and see that damn thing on my wall and be like oh it’s so sweet and straight and everything is in it’s place. Yay. But no, now I’ll get home from work late. I’ll see the stupid crooked sign and burn holes in it with my eyes and then throw a damn tantrum. I can just picture it on my wall sideways, each time I imagine it I see it more and more sideways. I even used a damn leveler. 

So I’m trying to not be annoyed at life because there’s nothing I can do about it and I’m blessed to have today and it’s sunny and oh ya I look like an idiot. I couldn’t find a damn thing I wanted to wear and what do I end up in? a pink stripe shirt LONG SLEEVES and BOOTS…it’s going to be 80 today. NOTHING is going the way I want it to and I’m having a fit over it.

There’s a big difference between seeing that there’s nothing I can do about it and understanding what that means.

I’m tired too. I am such a grump. I just pictured myself as grumpy. Hahaha short bald and bearded ewe.

So now I’m trying to think of all the things I learn in program and that I am always like oh shit I wish I remembered that back when I was mad. But nothing comes to mind but praying. And well I have asked God to help me calm the fuck down and well I’m still annoyed. 

Plus I’m talking to a friend about how I fucked up this weekend. I hate the question “how’ve you been?” it’s stupid. How do you sum up your life in a text. I’m good has no depth but the truth fucking sucks and I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to admit I suck and that I’m a loser and what I did to my body.

But then again I’m reminded and don’t want to believe it right now, but…oh I want to be in this state of mind, I can’t expect to feel better when I’m set on NOT being better. But being grumpy and tantrumy feels just grand right now, or no wait no it fucking doesn’t because I just wrote out like four paragraphs as to why it feels shitty. 

This means I have to do SOMETHING about it. I’m reacting to life not acting on it. 

So I’m going to go into work and focus on work on my coworkers' lives. Not mine. 

As soon as I did this I felt better. I realized happiness is a choice.

God Bless.

I Woke Up On the Concrete

To quote my girl Katy Perry, I’m wide awake.                                                  

“Crashing from the high. I’m letting go tonight.”

Usually a 3 day bender full of music, hot dudes, dancing and binge drinking is called Vegas.

I call it relapse.

I’ve completely broken my sobriety. I did it because I lost sight of who I am, of what is important to me. I listened to everyone else but God. I did what I wanted to do.

I drank because I was nervous. Because I saw others doing it. Because I hated myself.

It’s twisted but how I picture my past month since breaking my sobriety is me kicking my own ass.

I took my shoulders in my hands and pushed myself hard against a wall. Hoping it hurt. I threw punches trying to calm my rage. I grabbed a hold of my clothes twisting them in my grip, picking myself up to look into my face. All I see is a blank face, dead eyes, someone who disgusts me then I’d shove my pathetic ass to the ground. Again and again until neither of us felt anything anymore.

I would wake up shaking uncontrollably, my heart racing and feeling sick. Confused as to what I had done the night before. I had to pick the pieces up and try to put things back together, go to work, be normal then get shit faced again.

I now know how important honesty is. Every time I stretch the truth, misconstrue it to make myself feel better I’m only hurting myself. God knows what I’ve been doing—the guy wasn’t born yesterday.

I didn’t want to admit I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, I just wanted to forget in that moment the pain, the shame, the fact that I have a problem. Looking back it wasn’t this abusive or deliberate at the time…I really just wanted to get a buzz and go party. Now I see it was much more than that. I wanted to be someone else, anyone else.

But something has woken up in me and I believe that thing is hope. I believe it is God listening to the last little flicker of light within me, guiding me towards him. As soon as I was willing to admit my sin, my shortcomings he listened.

I opened the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous at random and he showed me a story of a man who relapsed. An old friend called and invited me to a meeting. Another friend in program let me cry in the middle of the gym after my workout today. I see now all the people that care about me when I wouldn’t care about myself. Support, grace and serenity are surrounding me all because I’m willing, all because I actually want to get better this time, because I’ve seen the girl that I was and I don’t like her at all. I see now what a good person I am and what I deserve and that is another chance at life and I’m fucking taking it.

Dear Self, It's Hungover You

PS Next time I won't film myself sideways...promise.

Dear Self,

Hi you charming, beautiful, sassy, smart girl you. This is hungover Kris. Hung over Kris is no fun. She doesn't like life. Currently, she has a head ache and can’t put words together very well. She resents herself for drinking too much last night. She scoffs at the fact that you tried once again to only have a couple, to cheat the system, to drink in moderation. She wishes you could remember the remorse you have in the morning, the anxiety about the decisions you made, the things you ate, the  people you contacted, the dance moves you thought you could pull off and the fact that you give your phone number to everyone who asks for it and well those who don't. 

She usually feels like she wants to throw up but there’s nothing in her system. She wants to eat everything and nothing at the same time. She worries about what she did the night before and has to play detective when she wakes up at about 6 AM when the drunkness wears off. 

Typically it's a frantic search for the phone which is usually underneath her pillow or in her clutch still. This leads her to wonder where her license is and then upon hopefully finding said license find her credit card. Which then leads to her remembering the drinks she bought and how fucking nice she is when drunk. DRINKS ON ME! Seems to be a very fun thing to say to Drunk Kris.

She goes to pee and sees her make up is still on and washes her face, tripping over her heels that for some reason look like they were litterally kicked off in a fit of joy about her room. Oh and her clothes too. WHY DO YOU ALWAYS GET NAKED WHEN YOU SLEEP DRUNK? (Mind you I always go home alone thank you.)

She tries sleeping the head ache off but can't. So she picks up your room but can’t do that efficiently since focusing is hard. Nothing makes her feel better. She regrets the calories in the drinks and the food she binged off of. Sometimes she has a blast, or at least thinks she did because after the second shot she can’t remember. 

Stay away from liquor. Beer is the way to go if you think that you simply will die without alcohol and chances are you won’t do that that, rather this stuff will slowly kill you. Ok that's dramatic but we are angry with you.

Hung over Kris also hates cleaning up the mess in the kitchen that Drunk Kris made. She wonders where the bruises came from. She wonders how she got home. She wonders why she didn’t stop. So please, take all of this into consideration when you think you want to drink. Hung Over Kris really isn’t very fun and we don’t want her coming around anymore.

Thanks,

Your Funny Sunny Self

Finding Faith

Here's a rose. Because I'm obsessed. And I like when I post this on Facebook and a picture goes with it. That's all.

My last post, which you should have read...because...well...I'm awesome...talked about that I'm not sure where my faith stands. I found out that I wasn't as secure in my beliefs as I thought I should be. Turns out it's difficult to put your all into something you can't see. But I guess that's like with anything.

You put your faith into a relationship that just starts because you believe there's a spark there, there's something special that's worth your time and effort and trust even if it's just starting out. You don't know how it will turn out, you can't know until you get there.

You put your faith in work, in your goals and dreams. You can't see the end result or how your efforts will prevail, what the long hours will end up getting you, but you keep on working because you believe it'll get you somewhere.


Even with the gym haha I keep switching from you / I. I guess in the above I mean I when I say you, but I'm too lazy to change it. HA. I go to the gym in hopes that each set I do and mile I run will produce a hot bod, even if I can't see the results now.

Now this isn't very Godly or spiritual but eh. . . this is swhat goes on in my head. Lucky you getting to read it haha HANYVAY...

I was journaling yesterday and realized faith isn't as easy as just going "Welp, God loves me. Cool." No no no. You've got to work at it. You have to pray for him to show you the way. You have to be willing to see how he's working in your life and count your blessings. AND you have to do his will NOT yours. Oye I really suck at that.

Sin. Little lesson for ya, sin is spelled with an I in the middle, aka you do what YOU want when you sin. It's self will not his will. Sin brings you further away from God and that's why life can feel crummy sometimes.

But because I was willing and prayed and acted on what little faith I have, he showed me the above. He speaks in many ways. And yesterday he came through me into my writing. Also, he came through in a Facebook message. OH Facebook.

A friend who is an avid reader, I made that up, I just wanted to sound cool, but she has at least read two of my posts and I thank her for that! Anyway, she reminded me that I'm not the only one confused. OH YA I'm not the only person with problems. I forget that you people are out there too and you don't have perfect lives. :) But she reminded me to keep at it and to keep at it honestly. He already knows everything we do say think the good and the bad so it's silly hiding from him, thinking he doesn't know what's up. Like Santa. haha Gosh I love Christmas.

ANYWAY...Long story short. God is here in my life, he always has been and he has a plan for me that he's revealing when I'm read for it. Even when I think I'm not. Even when I think he's stopped listening he's there.

I'm feeling so blessed. And I hope that this post reminds you that everyone's confused everyone's a little lost but you're never alone.

<3

Faith

I’m having issues with my faith.

I realized it while walking today, and I’d say that’s an act of God working in my life, helping me to see what’s going on in my head. So I’m getting closer to figuring it out.

I only believe that there is a God and that He’s there for me after He does something great. After I see him, feel him working in my life. Not before. My prayers, even though I mean them and I do want help, I feel phony when I say them most of the time.

Why would someone ever forgive me for all my sins? Why would someone accept me for who I am? Why would someone love me unconditionally?

I had this question the other day in my fourth step. Are you pessimistic or optimistic? And I didn’t realize just how negative I am. For whatever reason I don’t believe or trust that God is there for me or loves me. I just don’t see why.

I also feel this way about most people. Why would so n so like me? Why would she want to be my friend? He is so gorgeous, giving, funny. She is so pretty, positive and likeable. Then he leaves me and my fears are reaffirmed. I am demoralized lost and just more gung-ho that I am as bad as I’ve always told myself I am. Just waiting for my friends to leave me too because I don’t deserve them.

I heard in a meeting the other day that God will love me until I learn to love myself. That’s a great quote and idea but how do I believe that?

I’ve been acting as if. So praying like I believe, really trying to mean it, but then again you can’t force things. Trying too hard, forcing things, has always been a down fall for me. I tried too hard to get a job exhausting myself, I tried so hard to be liked making myself miserable, I try so hard to be in shape and thin and control my eating and in the end what do I get? This disease.

The answer is generally to turn it over to God. But how do I turn over my faith to something I don’t even believe in, in order to believe it?

Honesty is the Best Policy

This is hard for me to tell you, because if I admit it here. If it's typed out in black and white, it becomes real. I have to face it. The shame. The hate. The confusion.

I’m out of control, my disease has taken over.

When I go home to Bothell, and stay in my parents house, it reminds me so many bad things, things that I mostly created within my sickness. I see now how I twisted words and situations, creating my own hell.

I was taken back there yesterday. Thoughts and feelings arose and well you know how parents can get on your nerves...

I made cookies. MISTAKE. Cookies are one the hardest things for most people to say no to, but for me they start something I can’t stop.

I thought I would be ok with my family downstairs, they could see me. They should know better than to let me do this. I started out fine until I thought it was ok to have one. Well I am a great baker and that lead to another which lead to another which lead to fuck it I’m eating as many as I can.

I am a very good liar. I am a cunning deceitful person and you wouldn't know it...that's how good I am. My family was watching a slideshow from my mom’s trip to FL. I engaged. I asked questions. I thought I was so sly. And I just kept eating. Even as my dad cleaned up the dishes. It was a rush. I was doing this right in front of them. I could keep doing it then get sick and everything would be fine.

And that’s what I did-but everything wasn’t fine.

I couldn't stop. So I did it again.

It’s twisted, it’s sick and it doesn’t make sense but I cannot stop. I’m derailed. I am humbled and I am so sick of writing that I messed up again.

I went to a friend's house. And I wanted a drink. I wanted an escape, so ‘escape’ I did.

However, I found that the buzz wasn’t working. I felt insignificant. Ugly.  Unimportant. Awkward. Lame. 

But I stayed away from the food, until I couldn’t because I had nothing in my system but beer. So I ate a little bit with the help of friends. And then I drank some more because why the fuck not. And the next thing I know I am eating the rest of the cookies I made secretly.

This is embarrassing. This is not something many can relate to, but if I’m going to be honest I need to be entirely honest.

I am ashamed that no matter what good intentions my friends have I let them down. That I once again wasted so much food, energy, time a perfectly good day hurting myself. It’s a very selfish disease.

But what have I learned from this?

I have learned that I cannot drink like I thought. I need to cut it out again. I cannot bake. I know that something else needs to be done and that I can’t quit trying because I just experienced what happens when I give up and I don’t like that either. 

My sponsor said to LET GO. That I am trying to work program too hard. I need to surrender and say I am powerless and I need help and I can't do this alone God. 

How do you let go without giving up?