Own Your Mistakes

This morning I was pondering why (after countless mornings filled with regret and remorse) I drank again last night. I mean I didn't get wasted, held my own, but I came home and ate and ate and then threw up. Again. 

However, I realized why I keep doing this. I am not taking any credit for my issues/disease/faults etc. I'm not owning up to the fact that I am an alcoholic and that I have an eating disorder. I like blaming my actions on these things but not owning up to them. That's why I keep drinking and overeating, because I let myself. Now while it's an addiction it doesn't mean I don't have choices to not partake in them and I've been choosing to let them have their way with me, when it wants aka when I want. I use it as an excuse. It's very hard to put into words what I'm trying to say...

While I didn't ask to have this disease it's not like there's nothing I can't do to help it. It's like finding out you have an allergy to your favorite comfort food and you keep eating it anyway. It's not your fault you have this allergy but it's your fault that you keep eating it expecting not to get sick. This may be obvious to everyone else but mind you I'm slow at this really important life stuff. I've let the disease win over. Honestly I've been saying I'll go to treatment ya but until then I'll let it walk all over me so I can keep doing what I want and not have to have the consequences because it's not my fault I have these issues problems fucking stupid things I have to deal with.

I can't make promises but I hope that realizing this makes me take responsibility for what I have and in turn the actions to get better. Not when it's convenient but right meow.

Do It With A Smile Damnit

I'm calmer today.

Note to self, being angry, being sad, well any emotion, it passes. What you feel right now you probably won't feel tomorrow, nor will you remember it.  I can't even remember what I had for lunch yesterday or specifically why work upset me. This helps reinforce living in the present. If you live for right now doing  whatever it is you have to do right then and do it the best you can with a smile really it makes life so simple.

And yet I can't quite get this—guess I'm human.

Yesterday the jiggle of my thighs and my stomach growling overpowered everything else. It caused me anger for gaining weight and losing control and yet my fat ass was still hungry? It doesn't deserve food. This went through my head nonstop and it darked my day which was great if I really think about it. Work was tough but no one died. It was sunny. I had a killer work out. I got invited to go see Yeasayer…Yeasayers? I should probably learn that before Thursday's concert that I'm going to with coworkers. I had some laughs with some awesome people I get paid to work with. I got to see this charming old guy. Had texts and phone calls from people that are thinking about me. And my granny had a good day = Totes a good day.

I think this is why I like music and dancing so much. It makes me feel more present and alive than anything else. All your senses are awake and you can just get lost in the music. It's a great way to escape while as I said being present. Maybe this is why I spent $90 for Freaknight, when I really can't afford it. I mean treatment is $2,000. AND I'm not getting paid while away. Ouch.

BTW I go in September 10. Fack.

Anyway, what I'm trying to approach today with and hopefully after it becomes a habit, my life with, is to take it easy on myself. I am human. I make mistakes and I am not perfect. Live for today and for making others smile. Realize what you have not what you don't.

<3 o:p="o:p">

Fuck You Itty Bitty Bikini

I'm so sick of fighting with myself.

I'm sick of the up and down and the "you're ok" "no you're not" "you're fat" "you do need to eat" "no you don't"...

My legs are sore from working out.

My feet hurt from standing and walking and running so much—but I can't bare to sit down because it makes me feel fat. I've convinced myself that I must stand to burn more calories.

I've been doing 45 minutes or more of cardio everyday for two weeks almost, but yesterday I took the entire day off because I was weak. I lost sight of my goal, which is to lose 5 pounds immediately.

I've given into my urges to eat bites of a cookie. To have an extra protein bar to try to not be so hungry later, but that never works, I'm always hungry.

As I sat on the bus today I felt my fat stick over the side of my shorts. I felt the elastic squeeze me tighter—that sensation wasn't there before. I am reminded of my failure.

My bra doesn’t fit right because I have boobs again—I missed them.

I run up the stairs to my studio and feel my ass jiggle. Another cue. I clench my teeth and begin to condemn myself for not trying hard enough for not being better at losing weight.

I am weak for giving up. I am weak for not being able to go meals without eating. For not wanting to throw up after one. For not saying no to cookies at work.

I hate others that are thin that eat whatever they want with no abandon. Skinny girls that walk around in their cute outfits drinking, not caring about the calories.

I try on countless outfits only to end up in my underwear with clothes littered around me. I am faced with just my reflection. I'm in my Victoria's Secret matching set. I look nothing like those models.

I look away to avoid crying.

After dinner and giving into eating more than I should I have to pack for a river floating trip.

I get everything done except my bikini. I put my game face on and grab the one I'm always comfortable in. The one with the bottoms that sometimes sag and make me feel ok. I pull them on, there is no sag, they are tight and I'm ballooning out of every inch of it. And no I'm not being sarcastic. They don't fit anymore and it looks like I'm trying to wear a fucking thong rather than bottoms.

I try on another pair, my cellulite is there for all to see. My imperfections standing loud and proud. Mocking me.

I try on one more and they are a little better. But as my eyes trace my thighs that touch and my dimpled skin and my curves I feel them coming, the tears, the hot white anger and the shame.
There's nowhere for me to go, to hide, to make things better, this here and now is who I am and I can't fucking stand it.

I'm torn between breaking down and ripping my body to shreds. Screaming, throwing, fighting, destroying whatever I can. Then I cry. I pull the bottoms off and hide in a blanket. Me and my pathetic self.

Did you know that I haven't worn a bathing suit all summer? Well now you do. Not once. You know what's sad to me is that I work out all the fucking time and I'm still not in good enough shape to be seen almost naked. And I'll go through this entire summer hiding. When will I be good enough?

And it upsets me that I feel this way. I really wish I didn't. I envy guys that can just pull on baggy board shorts and go. For girls it's not easy.  I wish I could remember what I just realized recently. I truly understand what they say about media's influence on us.

The only life I really know outside my own is what's on tv or what people chose to tell me. So all I've seen about norms with sex, relationships, success, body image has been learned through television. But when I go to the beach and see girls that are heavier than me pulling off bathing suits with more confidence than me, it puts me at ease. I see the truth I guess. But I don't ever remember this. Plus if the movie stars can look perfect then why not me?

Fuckers.

Oh Shit. I Look Good.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MNy2_K43oWY&feature=share&list=UUqYKE-lCouDvzakdd_oFepA

Today I filmed for The (206) which is a new local comedy show starring and written by Chris Cashman, Pat Cashman and John Keister.

Today these lessons were reinforced:

1. Do what scares you.
2. God will help you if you ask him.
3. You CAN obtain your dreams, it all starts with you believing in yourself.
4. You deserve to be happy.
5. Cheap razors are not worth it. Buy the expensive ones so you don't have the stylist at your shoot ask you to take off your SpongeBob Band Aids...true story.

Took A Detour

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqyEzFzkJWs

Every morning on my way to work I follow the same path. Sometimes I'll get ballsy and will go on the other side of the street OH! that's usually if someone is annoying me.

While walking / trotting down Capitol Hill I talk to God. I tell him I'd like some help today. That I need to face another day and I can't do it alone. I ask him to help keep me sober and out of my destructive habits just for today, we can worry about tomorrow when I'm facing it. I usually pray for friends who need it. Those who are looking for jobs, whos grandparents are sick, who I haven't talked to in a while.

Today during this I realized I was 5 minutes early for my bus-THAT my friends is a miracle in itself-but not the point. So I got this crazay idea to walk all the way to work (mind you I'm wearing my cool new Nikes and work out outfit) and so I did.

Took me about 40 minutes but that's including me stopping to take pictures. And here they are:

Walking towards the water

My favorite place in all Seattle...by the water!

Saw these bad boys pull up one after the other at QWEST (F off Century Link) today policemen take a disabled child out for the day and let them be police chiefs! How fun!

Ya they are out of order...but I'm rushing.

Sun outside Safeco

<3 td="td">

The entire journey I listened to music like Breathe Me, Sia and Shawn McDonald.

I was very present in that moment, feeling the sun on  my skin, taking in my city, and talking to God.

It was wonderful.

Have a good day!

Talking to Myself

I'll admit, I'm quite the bully.

There's this girl that's so fucking lame that I can't help but manipulate her, torture her.

I call her fat. I tell her she's not worth it. I scoff at her attempts to be pretty. I tell her that she's boring.   I show her why no one cares about her. I prove her worst fears to be reality. I point out her failures and magnify her faults. I compare her to everyone to prove my points.

It makes me feel strong. I like putting her in her place and keeping her there.

But lately she's been pushing back. Her attempts are weak. She feels safe after a couple of successes but all I have to do is throw her back down. Half the time she does it on her own out of habit. 

She keeps getting the notion that she will get better. She keeps getting back up after I've defeated her again. She gets this crazy thought in her head that God's walking with her, beside her, behind her. She sometimes listens to him and, well truth be told, she makes headway when she does that. But she hasn't figured out how to incorporate him in every aspect of her life, as I said, she does my job mostly out of habit. It's sad really, she's so pitiful. I wonder when everyone will give up on her like she basically has. When she's this feeble she makes me less entertained as well, so I get angry and take it out on her.

I make her hurt herself relentlessly until exhaustion. I make her feel shame. I make her not trust anyone. I make her isolate.

I believe she's taking notice to these habits lately, and wants to stop but it's like grasping sand when you're this far down. Pointless.

This is how I feel. I have such highs and such lows and I'm exhausted. I wake up every morning rejuvenated more determined than ever just to fail 12 hours later that night.

For some reason though, people haven't given up on me. People are not sick of my addiction and my habits. I cannot tell you why or what I did to deserve such a support group but the shame I feel for messing up constantly is starting to take over my will to get better. I can't bring myself to say it out loud that I drank and overate again throwing up late into the night, but I can write it here for all to see.

Go figure. I don't make much sense in most of my actions so why start now?

But. Some things I've learned is that God has his plan. He is in control. I have to be willing to listen to him and do his will not mine. I'm much happier when I do what is right and what is healthy, but other than the fact that I'm an addict, I can't tell you why I don't always make those choices.

I feel out of control. My actions are affecting my work. My actions are making me gain weight and work out less. My actions are not of my choice but of my disease’s. I have no control over anything. I’m scared.

After last night, when I binged hard and sober, I realized that I'm much sicker than I thought. That I need help sooner than I thought. I was contemplating taking a less severe treatment route. I proved to myself that that's not an option last night.

Thank you to everyone who texts me randomly, call me, sends me messages and prays for me. I need them and will one day return the favor.

Love,

Kris

Looking Into Treatment

I feel like there’s a storm brewing under me. I picture myself on the beach. Sitting on a towel, alone, hands hugging my legs to my chest and my eyes fixated on the water. Its movement is steady, calm and natural. I feel this rare peace wash over me. I am at a place where I remember to thank God for my ability to take this breath of salty air and enjoy the warmth of the sun on my skin.

There is hope. Everything—in this moment—is ok.

If I look for it, I can see the clouds brewing in the distance. If I only focus on what’s in front of me now, then that’s all I have to handle. I can deal with the storm when it’s staring right back at me.  

There’s a lot going on inside of me and in my life.

Not that you people don’t have problems, but we are going to talk about me now. I need to address everything or else that storm will come with more power.

My Granny is having hospice care come in. My Granny that would go on two walks a day with two crazy dogs. My granny is so damn witty. My granny with the slight English accent. My granny that always has room for dessert. My granny who enjoys a vodka tonic before dinner and showed me how to make it while also setting the table in her home in Tallahassee.

My dad, her son, lets slip emotions I’ve never seen displayed on his face. I feel helpless as I watch him watch his mom slip away. I’ve never seen him so human.

On top of this I went to The Moore Center in Bellevue to look into treatment. That stirred a lot of shit in me. The doctor asked about high school life, when did I start my habits, why do I think I do this.

She even had to clarify…SO YOU THINK YOU’RE FAT?

No, I love myself you asshole of course I think I’m fat. I’m at an eating disorder clinic.

They weighed me. Wouldn’t let me see how much I weighed. Now some stranger knows one of the most embarrassing things about me.

They want me to do partial hospitalization. It reminds me of prison. THAT brings up more emotions and shit.

Talking about high school. How confused I was. How trapped. How hated I felt.

Talking about my parents. What was home like?

This woman brought up everything I’ve been shoving-ha literally with food-down and hiding away.

All of my pain, hate, anger and confusion in one stupid 15 minute conversation.

I went into the bathroom and swore just for my friends that I told I’d come here I’d stick through the end.

I’m glad I did.

I spoke with another girl that made me feel more normal, comfortable. She outlined the program and I actually am looking forward to it?

Let’s not go that far.

Again I cannot express how much support I’ve gotten from all of you and God at just that right moment. I have received texts, calls, letters, books, conversations that are irreplaceable and that boost me up because right now I am so broken.

I’m not sure how to end this other than I know that this is what I need and I’m starting to believe that I deserve freedom and it is possible. One step. One day. One prayer at a time.

God bless.

Shame V Pride

So.
Anyone notice how I start a lot of my posts with "so," SO annoying.
But for serious.

So, I haven't been ok, but really good at pretending I am.
At least I'm falling for it.

I'm in a glass case of emotion.

And it fucking sucks a fatty.

One minute I'm Frosted Flakes grrreat and the next I'm literally on the floor trying to physically get rid of the shame I feel.

 He Did This Just For You by Max Lucado is a  bit of literature I cannot get enough of. I reread his words and learn something new from them, like it's the first time I'm reading it.

Pride and Shame is a portion of the writing that comes to my mind tonight. "Pride boasts. Shame hides. Pride seeks to be seen. Shame seeks to be avoided."

These sister emotions have been having a fucking rager in me this past month.

When I thought I had a control on my drinking and my eating, Pride was everywhere. I thought I was "FIXED." Welp, it's safe to say I was wrong.

Shame is who I'm kickin it with right now. She sucks. She can't stand who she is, she can't stand that she can't stop feeling this way, she's embarrassed that she keeps fucking up even though she doesn't want to, she's sick of herself and her excuses...so she wants to punish herself-and she does.

She tortures her mind with negativity, that's all consuming but puts on a smile on the outside.

Today, I was invited to lunch after church with the sweetest, funniest lady and her friend. I went and got the bright idea to get a fatty fried fish sandwich, french fries and key lime cheesecake knowing all the while that I was going to go home and throw it up.

God gave me signs to stop. Both the women I was with talked about how a heavy meal wouldn't sit well with the heat, they got salads and soup. I could have opted for that. The waitress said they didn't have my initial burger choice, therefore trying to deter me from eating something I knew I shouldn't.
The woman I was with offered to drive me to work so I could stay later and enjoy their company but then I couldn't go home and throw up.

I CHOSE TO DO WHAT I DID. I WANTED TO...even though I didn't.

So I proceeded with the ritual of being ok when I'm really fucking not. I asked the right questions, was charming at the table and politely excused myself until I couldn't stand the toxin in my body anymore.

I got home burst through the door and did my best to get rid of the meal she so kindly bought me. Hating myself more and more with every heave.

I looked at the clock, time to go to work, the pretending starts over again.

But it didn't have to stay.

God once again reached out to me and this time I took it. I confided in my coworker, and moreover my friend. She let me vent, she gave me someone else to reach out to.

No sooner did I leave her did I get two texts from two other major support systems...reminding they care about me even if I don't.

I chose to be honest with them with where I'm at. Relief flooded me.

Lastly, my friend who I adore and admire, called me about 15 minutes ago. We talked about some good things and not so good things. The main thing was that we talked. I didn't hide, shame didn't get the best of me.

I may not always, but I'm getting the hang of it, this caring about myself thing.

While I'm powerless over my addictions I am the only one who can chose to get help. If I don't ask for help, if I am not willing to take the steps, however small, towards a better life I cannot expect and will not get one.

Tomorrow I go to the Moore Center in Bellevue. I really don't want to but so far what I've wanted to do hasn't worked out.

XOX

God = Two Black Women in a Bathroom Stall

So I am too lazy to write.

Just watch.

<3 p="p">