Unemployment Day 2: I'm Crying

So much emotion.

I just picture me being like Ron Burgundy in Anchor Man in his glass case of emotion right now.

I'm crying because it's like information overload and my body is like this is what's happening and it's happening now.

I've had a splendid day. I've had a splendid time since I wrote my blog post actually.

Right after publishing that I went outside and helped my manager in the yard and she boosted me right up. 

It was great to be in the sun and hear her rag on my work and say what a hard worker I am. She even gave me a rose from the garden. 

And then I got a message from a friend that made me feel better.

And then I went to the gym for a short bit and that made me feel better.

Then I danced around in my room like always but this time I filmed it.

As you may have read before I feel my emotions through dance sometimes--particularly anger. And this weekend at the rave I went to I got all of my lasting anger towards work out while well just dancin. The beat was fierce and hard and it reminded me of how they were relentless and pushed and pushed and never let up. And I kid you not when I said "goodbye (insert company)" in my head the speakers cut out on their set and everything was silent.

WHOA.

So anyway I'm thinking about starting up a separate blog that's strictly EDM and PLUR for eating disorders / anxiety / depression / body image etc and posting my video as the starter. But I'm also petrified. The end.

Then I talked to the boyfriend and that was also wonderful.

Today I woke up and kept on truckin. Repeated my positive mantra. Stuck to my meal plan. Wrote out some goals. Applied for a job. Met a friend for lunch. (ordered a sammich even though she ordered a salad (ED was screaming at me) Went shopping for a bit...gym...

Then I got the guts to call up my old employer at another part time job and she wants me back and she wants to see me TOMORROW. Say wha?!

Then seconds later I get another call about a summer promotions gig...not certain I'm hired yet but still...

Then I start to answer emails and follow up on job leads...

I get out old memory cards and go through them to upload their contents to my new laptop and I come across my one from college. All the things I filmed, outtakes and everything.

And I freeze.

I hate my past. I hate who I was. I hate what I did to people. I hate how much I drank. How little I ate. How much I ate. How I dated. How I treated my friends. How I let people treat me. How fucking disordered I was. Every memory and picture is tainted with a memory of my illness.

And as I watched I start tearing myself down. How fat I looked. How stupid I sound on camera...and then I come across this ridiculous picture of me trying to make 'healthy cookies' and burst out laughing and then when I can't laugh anymore I cry.

I feel so sorry for that girl. I was that girl and well part of me is that girl. Not in the sense that I'm still disordered but I never went away and who that girl was made me who I am today. And I am really fucking proud of who I am right now. What I am doing and what I have accomplished. And for one of the first times in my life I do not hate my past. I want to hold the girl in the picture and I want to tell her it's going to be ok.

I see her for her and not what she stands for and her mistakes. Not for her disease. I see me in her and her in me. 

And then another wave of oh my God look at how far I've come hits me.

I never would have thought I would be where I am today.

And that is why I'm crying.

Unemployment Day 1: Tougher Than I Thought

I'm so tired my eyes are watering.
I even took a nap today.
I feel fat and lazy.
I feel less than.
I feel messy and unorganized.
I feel lame.

I do not like myself right now and I have an insane amount of tension going on in my body--it's anger.

It's anger about being unemployed and it not being easy.

Yes one thing at a time but what the fuck is the first thing?

Don't come at me with file for unemployment. Yes I did that. And I've been doing things all day and I feel like I have accomplished nothing.

I feel so out of control.

I hate this.

And to all of you sweet humans asking me how my day is I really appreciate it but I keep getting so mad. I get mad because it reminds me of how insignificant I feel and stupid. How I have a huge fucking list of all this shit I need to do and somehow I didn't do any of it today and yet I haven't stopped doing all day.

And I feel like a piece of shit because I've received nothing but support from everyone since I was 'let go' / left work and this is how I am? THIS is what I am like?

Fucking worthless. I didn't even know my mood was this horrible until I started writing. I was avoiding it.

I have thought about bingeing and how it would be nice to eat some Cheetos and donuts and maybe mac n cheese and pizza, and then I thought about how little fucks I give about myself and what  a piece I am and how I don't care that it's not recovery focused and I don't care that it will hurt--I want it to hurt.

And then I read the mantra I picked out for myself this morning. Courtesy of pintrest and inspirationalfeed

And well today I made the best of what I had. I actually had a dentist appointment at 7 am so I was up at the crack of dawn. I ate a normal breakfast. And really just started trying to put pieces of my life together and I cannot even tell you specifically what that is but it was me working and doing the best I could and I wish I could give myself more fucking credit.

Then I went back to bed as I can do that. I woke up to my neighbors right outside my window. Annoying.

Walked to Volunteer Park while I talked to my boyfriend.

And then after I hung up I took the time to let myself enjoy this:

And now that I have re inspired myself and you all have listened (thank you) I am going to get out of bed and go to the gym because while I know I need to get a new job I cannot constantly force myself to do that 24/7.

This unemployment thing is happening at this time in my life and recovery for a reason and I intend to take advantage of it on multiple aspects / levels. I just have to constantly remind myself that I will always have time to do the things I want to instead of beating myself up for what I haven't done.

And at the end of this my landlord calls me and asks me to help in the yard...and the next right step is clearly indicated for me.

Also, if you have any jobs for me. Holler. Thanks.

I Quit My Job. Like 2 Minutes Ago.

I haven't been writing because I've been busy.
Because I've been stressed and anxious and depressed.
I don't always know how to put what I'm feeling into words.
Which makes me feel stupid and get more frustrated and then I cannot think and it reminds me of school.
And then I shut down (but I'm getting better at this).

Lately I've lost myself.
Stepped down from IOP then bam work had an incredibly busy week and I was staying 2 hours late every day.
I was unable to get home early so I could journal, practice cooking, eat normal meals, work on recovery, HAVE A LIFE.

Oh it upsets me so much that work has gotten it's claws in my life again.
I have worked so fucking hard and spent months and so much fucking money on getting better so I can start to live and then what do they do? They run me right back into the ground.

They give me--everyone--too much work. They make me bitter. They make me angry. And anxious. And mad. There is such a lack of respect and caring in that terrible place. It's indescribable.

For the past three years I have done nothing but try so hard to work my way up in that company. To stay late, come in early, do the extra work, train people, do projects, work on marketing copy, morale boosting and everything EVERY FUCKING THING was taken from me. Because we got too busy. Because this fucking company pushes so much product without hiring enough people to handle it. They just want money and they do not care about their employees.

So every job I have applied for I can mention the projects and skills I KIND OF have and I KIND OF did until we got too busy and my main job was to write about fucking tee shirts and tutus until ungodly hours and was told to put a smile on my face and finish my work as my eating disorder and depression slowly crept back up.

This place has fucking trapped me. I have not enough experience to leave but it is no longer (and never was) a healthy place to get experience to move up or out.

I see how miserable my co workers are.
How they are having to go to therapy too, how some are having actual physical side effects from the job, who were once happy people are not wanting to come to work anymore.

And now that I have done this song and dance twice I see myself creeping back into the days of not wanting to show up to life. Of being bitter and cutting and mean. Of not wanting to eat, wanting to eat everything. Of being angry and not knowing why. I see this fucking company ruining my life again--and no I'm not just complaining you have no idea how negative and unhealthy it is there--and I'm saying no this time.

Most of this has been about what this company has done TO me, which leaves me feeling powerless.

But it feels empowering to say I am choosing to leave because my recovery does come first.

I am petrified I will not find a full time job again, ever.

I have had three interviews this week and all of them fell through.

I just don't understand when my break comes, when my hard work pays off because all of my life I have been working and I have never really had one.

Ok but yes positivity.

I wish I could show this blog to an employer. And show them what passion I have, my honesty. I wish I could tell them how my career has gone and why my resume is so lacking. I wish someone would take pity on me and say actually after meeting you in person you fucking rock. You are funny. You are charming. You are determined, a hard worker, a great writer, innovative, outgoing, honest, positive--but you swear too much. But shit we'll hire you.

Where is my employer Prince Charming?

Day One of Having A Life

So today is the day that my life starts.

I say this because it's the healthiest I've been with the least amount of things to do.
It's the closest to actually getting to have a life and see what it is people, you 'normal' people do.

You muggles (hehe) that don't have to go to treatment after work and that don't exhaust yourself or are enslaved in addiction.

Here's what I did today:

I was 15 minutes late to work.
I was pretty stressed out all day trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.
I took the time to go on walks, get coffee, talk to my boyfriend (who got a great new job! I'm so proud of him) and keep in touch with girls in treatment.
I fought ED on eating too much and too little and his thoughts on my exercise (and lack thereof).

I raced home after finishing almost on time (left 15 minutes late) and brushed my cat.
I don't understand how she has so much fur.
I cleaned a bit.
I ate dinner-on my own-all of it-while missing my girls in treatment.
I then helped my landlord in the yard and learned more about her and how much I hate mulching in the process.
I got to spend an hour outside and get money off my rent.
I then fought ED again on my lack of going to the gym.
Picked myself up and got a pintrest recipe for sweet potatoes and bacon and brussel sprouts to attempt to cook tomorrow.
I then went to the grocery store where I realized I forgot my phone with said pintrest recipe on it.
Ugh.
Then ran into my neighbor across from me who sympathized with how much it sucks to live under the ass upstairs. Then we talked about food allergies. Then i told him I am a bulimic and he said he never heard me throwing up-I believe him. I told him I never heard his chanting or smelled his incense.

When I got home I smelled his incense haha

Now I'm writing you this.

I am so at ease.
I feel so free.
It was hard work being a 'normal' person today.
But I think I shall try it tomorrow.
I rather liked it.

Lonely

I feel lonley.

(you did this to yourself)

I left the girls that understand me best.

(but I was breaking)

And now I feel like I am falling.

(no I haven't had ED behaviors)

And there's nowhere to turn and no one to listen.

(you know that's not true, your best friends and treatment girls are always there)

I want to recoil and protect myself.

(I know how to silently suffer. I'll make you sorry you ignored me)

I'm just fucking tired.

(This is scarier than I thought)

You're still fucking doing it

(and you're doing just fine.)

Big Steps

I can't believe I'm writing this.

Reality is hitting me in waves of emotion that makes my heart stop and my stomach drop.
The feelings are fleeting and I'm shaking and my throat tightens and then I laugh and can't sit still.

I am stepping down to out patient.

Which means I am no longer going to treatment 4 days a week after work.
Which means no more 12 hour days.
Which means less exhaustion, less anxiety, less depression, less breakdowns.

It also means less support, less handholding.

It means more responsibility.
It means more time for me--who I'm getting to know.

And  It means I'm done with you ED.
It means I want a life, outside of THIS.
Outside of regimen and pain and relentless hounding.

Oh heavens this is more than I thought it would be. I can't collect my thoughts and what this actually means. I've got Strobe by Deadmau5 in my ears. Playing. Smooth. Calm yet electric. It's directing me.

I can grieve the past and all I have been through, the addiction, the pain, the sadness and the struggle. I can have that and I can hold that and I can feel that while also being really fucking excited--oh and scared.

You guys--I did it. I'm doing it. Here and now in this moment. I am the farthest I have ever come in my recovery. Just the realization that all of those little steps and the big ones and the hard work has really gotten me here. It's like I have been so focused on going forward I didn't look back.

My breath won't come out. I have to remember to breathe. The joy and the realization of "I've done it" or well "I'm doing it" and how fucking proud of myself I am is almost too much to handle.

I hear my boyfriend in my head "I'm scared but I know you can do it babe."

Breathe.

There is no real knowing when I'm ready to step down and try things on my own, but I do know when something isn't working. And the past month and a half hasn't been working. I've been drowning at work, with anxiety, overwhelmed by treatment, long hours, no time for friends, exhausted on weekends. No life. And I have been slipping. I was losing passion for writing, for getting up in the morning, for dancing, for who I was working so hard to become. That was my red flag--that's how I know something needs to change. And while I am working on getting a new job, right now I cannot do that, what I can do is let up on the long days, the stress and and anxiety.

So now what treatment looks like is therapy twice a week for an hour, a bi-weekly dietitian appointment for half an hour and an hour therapy group. Compared to 3 appointments a week plus 3 hours 4 days a week.

And it also looks like seeing my friends again, and incorporating them in this. I have not seen them in the 5 months I've done this hardly at all and I miss them so much. And I have a real fear that everything has changed while I was gone. That I am no longer welcome, that I am just the eating disorder girl, that I am fragile and they don't see me as a person anymore or that they even know who I am now. But then I listen to that voice in my head, my wise mind and I know that they were the ones who pushed me to go do this and they wouldn't abandon me, they didn't just see me as an ED before when I was mostly an ED so they can't now. I just fear abandonment, being less than, not worthy enough, a bother. Working on this.

I also fear you guys' (and I call myself a writer...doh) opinion. As soon as you hear that it was my decision and not the therapists to let me step down. Do you get mad at me? Do you support me to my face and then say she's going to slip? And again your opinion, your validation that I am ok is still something i search for. Working on this.

But guys, I am--here come the tears--I am so fucking excited.

It doesn't matter what other people think, it matters what I think and what I do.

And I want to live.

I'm Back Bitch.

Hi friends.
It's me.
I haven't written in a while because I was being a brat.
I didn't want to.
I was bitter that I have to write to feel my feelings.
To sort shit out.
That it's always a big huge event when I actually feel anything.
I was mad at the world that after a long fucking day at work, 4 hours in treatment and commuting home that I still have to fucking journal to get everything out.
I hate how much effort living life takes.
So I put myself through a rough time trying to fight against journaling, asking for help and living in recovery.

It did not go so well.

I have since put my foot down and said life fucking sucks when I don't do what I know I'm supposed to and started doing what I'm supposed to.
And I fucking hate to admit it but life is a bit easier when I do the work.

When I fight against those thoughts actively. When I reach out hourly. When I eat on my meal plan. When I allow myself a lazy day of Netflix. When I call my boyfriend to tell him I want to eat a cake...

When I do the things that are hard, when I push against everything my disorder is telling me that's when I finally get some relief, but it's getting the energy to do those things that is so hard.

Everything is just hard right now.

But I'm told it won't always be.

So I'm going to do my best to keep being honest with myself, honest to you and keep writing so I don't dig myself into a hole again.

The end.