It's Clear Now.

Today I learned that a girl I spent my junior high, high school and some time in college with took her life.

We have the same name, spelled the same way.
There's a funny bond with that.
Something you can default to when there's nothing else to laugh about.
But that's not all we had.
We had hours of soccer together and school, but not in the way that we were good friends more like good acquaintances. But it's those short interactions I had during those years that matter. Those minutes and moments that I did have with her are so clear in my mind because she was always seemingly herself.

I remember being rather resistant to her because of her strong personality. Her confidence. Not sure what to make of this light in my junior high and early high school days.

When I think of her now I see her bright blue eyes and hear her laugh clearly. I see her tenacity on the field. And then come the foggy random memories at parties and in the dorms.

But then there are the ones more recently when I wasn't so insecure and when I was in recovery. When I could appreciate her for who she was, not envy but admire and be inspired by her.

And now I am so sad and heartbroken over what the world has lost, and I barely even got to know her.

I remember us talking about her backpacking exploits and marveling at her dreads and how she was living--she was doing IT. Just going and doing and being. And she still had that smile and that laugh.

She didn't talk to me long last time I saw her, I feel like she was always so busy and social. But it was enough for me to see HER.

I want to be like that some day. To stand with someone briefly and when I leave leave a presence of me. Have my self awareness, my confidence and aura just radiate from me without doing anything but just being.

During times like these there are a lot of emotions and one that I'm feeling strongly is a sense of direction. Of calm.

Life now seems more simple.
And clear.

What I thought mattered doesn't as much.
What I thought was confusing, and hard is now curious and beautiful.
My struggles are now my strengths.

I Fucked Up. Plus Some Other Stuff.

I want to talk about doing things for the right reasons and values. And good shit like that.

I am going to write a little revision to my last post not because I want him to like me, or to stop people from having ill feelings towards him (because honestly he is wonderful and has made me happier than anyone I've ever been with) but because I truly feel that what I wrote yesterday didn't align with my values.

Which are:
acceptance
authenticity
respect
balance
connection
gratitude

I have written like 23 versions of this because I'm fighting between wanting to please my ex and have sensational readings and make myself sound cool (like I ever actually do that). So I'm finally fucking doing it. I'm just going to write with my authentic, self-respecting self:

Yesterday I meant what I was writing.
I was hurt and I was lonely and I was confused.
But I let my impulsiveness take over.
I wanted to hurt back, I didn't see it in that way at the time, but I do now.
I didn't even think beyond myself and that my ex has friends that could read this too.
Yesterday's post was just a piece of what we are going through.
I've made some very big mistakes as you can read in my previous posts and my ex was reacting to my actions in a way that I think most people would.
I feel terrible about losing my balance of authenticity and respect and acceptance but I'm learning.
I am learning to have boundaries as a form of learning to respect myself and others.
((that's a lot of learning))
And writing this is one way I feel I can build that up for myself and for my relationship however that ends up looking.

I think it takes guts to admit you made a mistake but it takes real courage to change your ways and that's really what I'm trying to do--or well doing.

I have been unsettled with how I can't seem to stand on my own two feet after all of this back and forth in my relationship.

How do you be independent while being in a relationship? I do not fucking know.
So I read an article.

And here's the highlights:

• Find hobbies and what makes you happy separate from the relationship and do them.
• Be able to say "no" when you authentically do not  want to do something without inflicting hurt feelings or guilt.
• There is no need to pour your heart out to them all of the time.
• Space is great. If you go a day without talking, texting, Skyping, seeing them that's ok. Distance makes the heart grow fonder.
• Your needs, approval and feelings come before theirs. (mind blown)
• Try to figure out your dreams and when you do strive for them, put them before the relationship. You honey bunny will follow suit if they are truly for you.
• Be yourself and love yourself for it, let them be them and love em for it.

This actually perfectly aligns with my values:

• Acceptance: who I am, who he is, where I'm at (in any given situation, feeling etc)
• Authenticity: listen to my heart, my dreams, be true to myself
• Balance: he time, me time, we time
• Connection: with myself and take that extra second to really see what's going on within me
• Respect: my feelings, my needs, wants and stand up for myself (because in my head I really don't do that)
• Gratitude: for who I am and who I'm becoming

Ready, set--LIFE CHANGE!

I Got Dumped. Again.

So I'm really feeling the whole poor me vibe right now.
Just fucking grooving on it.

Everything was clear and happy and fine when I got dumped last night (truly it was).
And then it slowly started to sink in and from midnight until now I feel like butt.
Lame, lost, lonely.

It makes sense that we aren't together. He was a dick and I was anxious all the time.
You can't force chemistry and trust and love.

I so truly believed that we were meant to be together that I didn't want to give up. That life without him didn't make sense. I did what I saw in the movies and read about in books, I just kept fighting. And in the end it wasn't the answer. I was wrong. I failed.

That's one thing that's bothering me. What I did, and what I put my heart into failed, like horribly. I'm trying to not feel stupid for trying because I thought that's what you were supposed to do when you loved someone. I had never been in love before. I didn't know what to do when I lost it. But in my heart I knew something was off...so I'm also mad I didn't listen to myself.

Lesson learned out of that one. Doesn't make the shame go away.

The other is how fucking fine he is without me.

It's like night and day.

Before I was contacting him, being sweet, trying to get a laugh, trying to find him again, get something--anything with no real response. It was like talking to a stranger. I took so much risk and put so much heart into everything these past two weeks to try to get him back and I was so strongly rejected. And now when he's done with me he's fucking fantastic.

Ouch.

I don't like feeling this whipped. Or is that just my pride getting in the way of the universe helping me work this out so seamlessly?

I mean I'm going to feel what I'm going to feel regardless of how I look at the situation, but it matters how I act on the situation. And honestly I haven't left my house all day because currently I'm scared to face the world. And I don't like that.

I mean where's my pride kick? And my I did this for me? It's not here. I got dumped. I'm not walking away I'm laying on the ground. And it's even more confusing because what we are doing now is actually working (well minus this strong aversion to how everything is happening that I'm having).

The guy I first had a crush on is back, he's funny, he's kind, he's actually fucking talking to me. And I feel like I can be myself around him again. And I'm hoping that we organically grow back together as we grow a part as people.

So I should be fucking happy but I feel like shit. I feel rejected. I feel less than. I feel lonely.

Last thing, man this is long, and most important thing I realized this morning while journaling is that this reminds me of my very lonely childhood-teen years.

After I was sexually abused things changed drastically for me. There was no more trust, no more love, I was alone. That's when the kids started to be mean in school. I didn't have many friends. And that's how confused and twisted and desperate my life was until I figured out that boyfriends could fill that void and they have ever since.

Now I'm in recovery and I don't know what being single and healthy looks like. And while I want it to be exciting and I want to have this passion for life and this drive to figure out who I am I also am just really demoralized, scared and sad.

I'm Enough.

Hollow.
Chills.
Bend over to protect myself.
Protect what.
Actual heart ache.
Every movement slower.
Breath shallow.
Trying to not make a wrong move.
No energy anyway.
Like ice on a bare chest.
Alive.
Anxiety.
Heart race.
Can't breathe.
I don't want to.
Numb the feeling.
Please just let me be.
Exhaustion.

I'm trying things again with my boyfriend but there's a lot of hurt.
I keep trying to find signs that say what I should do.
Actually what he will do.
I hate that my existence weighs on his every word.
Will I be happy that day or sad or mean to people.
Will I have energy to workout ? To be sarcastic? To be myself (who only seems to come out when he and I are ok)?

I can't seem to shake the hollow, alone, empty feeling that is left in me without him here.
He makes me whole.
And that's romantic and all that but that's a real fucking problem.

I'm working towards values and appreciating myself everyday and writing down what I like, to try and find me inside of me but it's lonely in here.
A dark, empty space, never ending.

I want to feel ok. I want my comfort back. I want what we had. Easy. Trust. Love.
It's gone and I'm left with pathetic memories and remember whens.
I'm holding all the pieces in my hands and forcing, coaxing, praying them together.
It doesn't seem to want to fit.

I can't give up.
I don't want to give up.
It can't be the end just like that.
With just a mistake--but it's not a mistake it is real and it fucking happened and shit changed.

I feel so demoralized and helpless.

I cannot do anything but keep working on myself and to fill this hollow space myself. And even as I type that I don't want to accept it and that's ok in this space I am not able to. And hope he comes back to me. And that is so scary to let go like that.

I wish I could just wake up out of this.
But that sounds like a bunch of bull shit.
Wishing never did anything for me.
I've got to do some serious work.
And I am doing that.
I know I'm capable of it.
After all the shit I've been through.
Come on now girl.
This feeling will pass, I'm feeling stronger with each word.
The only person who can get me through this is me.
And I'm enough.

Snotty Yoga.

I am so tired so I may use the wrong there and half of you honestly probably wouldn't notice but that's my disclaimer.

I write best when I'm in the shit so I want to get this out now.
In this case 'the shit' means my emotions.
Which are not shit mind you.

Listening to Florence The Machine - Shake It Out which I'm sure all of you know but play it if you want the full effect.

So I'm going through a major--I don't even know what you'd call it--of myself. I'm looking at me. The way I live, the choices I make, how I act, my values and I'm trying to figure which way is up and left from right all while going through the biggest breakup I've ever had. And I'm unemployed. I'm just a mess--or am I where I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be?

I pulled out one of my seemingly hundreds of journals after pissing off a friend and just wrote. Free flowing just my paper and my pen but mostly I just like to think of it being just me.

"I feel sad. The fear of returning to who I was is real. The anxiety works against me. It's all so overwhelming. All of this does. This life is too much. It's always been too much. No wonder I numb. No wonder I get confused and mixed up and frustrated. I'm working so hard to figure me out that I'm losing myself.

And I'm tired and lonely and listening to sad fucking music (this was before Florence came on). All of this, this life is the hardest thing. Fighting against myself. I feel a fleeting feeling. I'm losing the calm I've had these past days. The sad slow calm. Desperate. I need it back. Don't leave. I'll do anything. Force. Will. Think. Do. Come back. Peace. I want peace. I see myself doing and thinking and anxious and I feel like if I could do different I would This is the spiral. I'm spiraling. The hopeless. The confusion.

But if I want something different I have to do something different.

Enter Florence.

I'm just not sure what that is. Trying to remember coping skills. Something to numb in a healthy way.

No feel. Feel. Just feel it.

*Pause for yoga attempt while crying so much snot to head* And I feel it I feel the pain and the sadness and the loneliness and it doesn't kill me. And suddenly I can breathe again. And each movement gets easier and the music somehow gets clearer. And my heart gets lighter.

I finish and I write...

This peace I'm constantly seeking isn't not having emotions it's having peace with having emotions.

And then I get so excited and want to tell you guys and I do.

Gratitude list:

1. I ate the 'scary' sandwich at the M's game
2. I just fucking did that shit that I just did.
3. I did so much laundry today
4. I am not quitting.
5. Watching my impulsiveness
6. My friends. Oh my goodness they are so amazing.

Getting Over You.

Last night I broke down around midnight asking my very recent ex to talk to me tomorrow. Our first conversation since I told him everything.

He said he would.

I realized with a breathtaking flutter of my heart that if he had wanted to talk to me earlier, if he wanted me back he would have simply contacted me. And that yes this is actually over.

I started to gasp for air. I couldn't breathe. I felt as though I couldn't physically take this reality.

My mind miraculously—no give myself credit—because of my time in recovery my mind went back to my earliest treatment days. To the I am a tree grounding technique. 

I pictured myself at Paradiso (a music festival here in the Pacific Northwest—my happy place).

My roots growing into the ground.

The sun on my face.

My arms wide.

Absorbing the energy.

Breathing freely.

And that helped put me to sleep.

This morning I wrote this while listening to Beat Organ (Original Mix) by 16 Bit Lolitas.

This is the first morning I actually wanted to wake up.

“I am a tree.

My roots need soft soil with nutrients to grow.

I cannot force my roots to grow in a hard, toxic, unhealthy environment or where they are not wanted.

There can be no conflicting energies deep down in my roots.

They are made up of my values: peace, love, unity and respect. 

I pull from Mother Earth to strengthen my roots and give me guidance.
My trunk is supported by my friends and family.

They help keep me stable when the weather comes down hard and appreciate the sunlight.

They are my forever supporters.

Because of my values and my support system I am able to reach tall and wide and blossom.

My branches are extensions of my learnings, my failures and my triumphs.

They open my heart wide for love and acceptance.

They create a beauty all their own.

I am a tree.”

How PLUR Is Helping Me Find Me

I do not think I have ever hurt this much.
I have never been this far in recovery either.
I am determined to not numb out with food or booze or drugs or hurting myself.

I had him and I lost him.

I can barely breathe it hurts so badly.

My life changed in an instant.

It is hard to explain without re traumatizing myself.

I am so incredibly tired. Everything hurts. I wake up and my heart drops into my stomach. I'm cold. I shake. I reach out for him and he's not there. He will never be there again. I clutch the stuffed animal he gave me telling him how much I miss him and how sorry I am. I can barely get the tears out.I squeeze it harder trying to feel something other than this. Do I let go? Do I fight?

I let alcohol and my lack of self respect take away the love of my life.

In the moment I had no idea what would happen. I thought I was being brave and going out of my comfort zone. Being social and that these men were actually interested in ME. I made it clear I had a boyfriend. I made it clear I would go home after one drink. I made it clear I did not want to take those shots. It did not matter. And now it does not matter.

I am tempted to feel as though I am back to where I was with men. Feeling they will leave me when it is hard. That they cannot be trusted. I wince when they touch me. When they look at me. Or then there is a rage that comes out when I am called at. All of that work I did. All of the recovery. Gone in a night. In a night I do not remember. A night I did not consent to.

But that is not true. My years of work from my first  incident to what occurred most recently is not gone. In fact if I keep working the way I have my recovery can be more reinforced. I am sacred, I am beautiful and I am me. I am not for you to do with what you please. And I can no longer look for my joy and my confidence and my self worth from you.

From you or him or them or likes or ass grabs and phone numbers and compliments. From jobs and raises and money. From clothing and area codes and cars.

Because I am finding out, from the hardest way possible that when you do not have any income, when you do not have a job and when you do not have a significant other that what you are left with is you.

And right now being left with just me is lonely. It's sad. It's empty. There is nothing to me it seems.

But this self destructive thinking will only get me back to wanting attention anywhere I can get it. And so I have been working on my values.

And I have gotten them from the EDM community.

Peace
Love
Unity
Respect

And I define them slightly differently for myself depending on what I'm working on that day. I've been writing them in a journal in the morning, writing out goals and checking in with them at night.

Peace in my mind and with others. I am not a bad person for what happened or mistakes I made. And I repeat that over and over again. And not all people are out to get me or will judge me for what I have done.

Love stands for acts and feelings of goodwill towards myself and others. Love for and from my friends right now especially during this time.

Unity with food and my body.

Respect means focusing on showing regard for the feelings of others through their actions and inaction. While also of course having respect for myself and my environment. Also in his wishes to leave him alone.

And it's scary to look at myself and I really just do not want to. I have not yet had the guts to say what I do like about myself because I feel after what happened that I am not deserving of praise or anything good. But my friends have been here every hour of every day bringing me up, and that must mean I'm worth something. I'm just not sure what that is yet.

My demon is me.

It is mine.
It was not yours.
And you took it.
It was sacred.
And beautiful.
I worked so hard.
I built it up.
I nurtured it.
I believed in it.
I learned to love it.
And with a touch.
You tore it down.
It it ruined.
It is afraid of light.
It is afraid of love.
It is afraid of life.

She shies at glances.
At the light.
At a simple gesture.
Hardens in the night.
Crushed inside.
Unable to breathe
Each breath is a silent scream.
Arms clutch her figure.
Trying to hide. To hold.
Protect.
It's too late.
She's been seen.

He's here.
He never left.
She's bare.
Unable to hide her rage.
No where is safe.

My demon has taken away my innocence.
My love.
My home.
My family.
And what I'm left with is just me.
And who I have to face in the mirror is my demon.
And that demon is me.

shame

Calm surface
Passive face
Head down
She moves
Her figure radiates energy
Teeth clenched
Sick stomach
It churns
Her hands shake ever so slightly
She's broken inside
But this pain isn't enough
She feels nothing
What did I do
Self hate destruction
No one to blame but her
If only she had a knife
If only she had the courage
There's nothing left to kill
What did I do

Some Stuff That I Wrote In My Blog

I met with my therapist this morning at 10 AM well it was like 10:07 AM because for those of you who know me, you know you can count on me to be late.

And I babbled and blubbered--ok that's not giving me the credit or the seriousness that I want this to go--I cried like no one was watching.

I tried explaining what it's like to be me. And how confused I am as to how I am so confused about life.
How is it that everything seems to be a fight for me?

My alarm goes off and for 10 dreamy seconds I'm ok then my heart drops. I remember who I am and what I have to do that day and what I didn't do yesterday. Anxiety controls my life now. ED too but now that that's subsiding more it's anxiety.

Now that I don't as much obsess over appearance and what did I eat what will I eat, and how much I hate my job, I'm now left with tasks. What to do, what didn't I do and I'm not present in my life. I am not happy.

I struggle to face the day. I have to force myself out of bed. I have to force myself to eat and then to not over eat. Then to go on my reflection walks then to stop going on my reflection walk. To start my task list for the day and to go on to the next task for the day.

It's just a fight. And I am just constantly, sad. It's like sad, negative is my stable place. My home.

I do not want it to be. I reach out. I reframe. I read positive quotes. I listen to positive music. I talk to my cat. I stop to smell the roses. But I feel like I keep pushing and willing myself to go on, to find a neutral ground that isn't depression.

I explained this in gross sobs to my therapist (like the ones where your mouth gets all sticky and you really need Chapstick and a tissue and water all at once). And she said it sounds like you feel "LIFE IS HAPPENING TO YOU."

Yes. Yes ma'am that's it.

NOW HOW DO I FUCKING STOP?!

So I'm practicing saying things like I get to do this, rather than I have to do this.

Trying to do less.

Be present and appreciate the things I do.

Then I talked to the man about all this. He doesn't ever have feelings--well that he tells me about. So it makes me feel more crazy since I'm a roller coaster of crazy. And the main thing he said that stuck out to me was that when he was depressed he hated being in that space so much that he did everything in his power to get out of there.

And well I hate being here and I guess I just have to keep working and moving and doing to get out of here. Like I actually CAN get out of this space. I just don't know HOW.

While also having room for being sad. I mean I'm in recovery, I lost my job, I don't know how I'm going to pay rent next month...that's kind of a fuck ton. So it's all legit. But ya. I am sick of being a victim of my life. I want to feel like I'm doing something, like I have a say, like I'm moving in the right direction.

I just don't know WHAT that is. That's probably the other huge reason for my depression. I am applying to anything and everything and nothing seems to be working. I have no direction. I like goals and I like answers and right now I don't have concrete ones.

Oh and the last thing that helped today was me meeting with a friend that just justified everything I was feeling. I generally feel very alone in my misery, confusion, depression and it just helps to know I'm not. Not that I want you people to be sad but I just for whatever reason feel less alone then.

I feel like I'm just blabbing now. Ok I'm done. Bye.

Oh wait and I haven't binged or purged in five days and that's great. And I have been cooking more which is amazing. Cooking to me is like people starting a new workout  or getting the guts to talk to that cute girl -- I just make up as many excuses as possible and eat my same disordered dinner / lunch / whatever. So go me. Look at that progress!

Blind to the Beauty

I'm beyond frustrated with myself.

I am so tired of being stressed, of always having something wrong, of never being able to just enjoy life. I mean I have worked so hard to get where I am and it's not good enough.

There is always something(s) I have not done, something bearing over me, pressing on me that's wedging me between reality and my mind.

I feel like every post, every conversation, every ounce of me focuses on and works so hard to find the good, be positive, to be better and I'm so tired of having to work. When does it become easier? When does it become natural? When do I get to just wake up and appreciate who I am, all the work I've done?

If it was possible I would throw myself up against a wall. I would shake myself until I finally got it out of my system. That is how much violent anger and frustration is in me. 

IT being...I don't even know...this overpowering urge to just rip myself a part. Nothing is ever good enough, there is always something to do, to put in a list, to improve, to make an excuse for...I cannot just BE.

I'm frustrated to tears right now because I see how I want my life to be and it takes so much fucking work to appreciate who I am and those moments of clarity take so much effort it's exhausting. And I just want to give up. But I don't. But I do.

I just want to give myself credit for all the fucking work I've done. The work it takes to make and eat breakfast everyday, the effort it takes to go on my morning walks, to wear jeans, to quit my fucking job, to overcome addiction, sexual abuse. I want to see the beauty everyone sees.

Oh now I'm crying.
Because I believe you guys. I believe I am beautiful. I believe I have a big heart. I believe I'm generous. And funny. And kind. And honest. And a good writer. And I believe I have a light about me but I cannot see it. 

I live in the dark and I so badly want out but I don't know how.

I'm in a constant battle with my mind. I've got to text this person about plans, oh apply for that job, oh who was that reference?, call food stamps, write down a list of shit to do while I'm on hold, oh ya I wanted to try that recipe, oh fuck when is my dietitian appointment?, didn't that girl say I lost weight?, crap what did I do with that fax?, I should text my boyfriend how much I love him, shit did I just hang up on that call?

I'm constantly going and doing and I feel like I'm getting nothing done.

I'm unemployed and I'm still as stressed out and busy as if I wasn't.

I cannot shake the nagging feeling that I have something to do, that I'm not ok, or stable or safe.

I am tired of having a hard time. I am tired of complaining (but then again I can't keep this in). I am tired of not enjoying my life but I don't know how to let go, how to live, how to not just rip myself a part for who I'm not and what I don't have and what I haven't done.

Because doing all of those things, making lists, checking them off, being busy, perusing these things is supposed to help make things easier and it hasn't fucking happened.

I lessened treatment, I quit that hell hole and I am still stressed, anxious and fucking moody as all hell.

I just want peace.
I'm not giving up but I just have felt this weight, carried this weight of being me for so long and it seems to be getting heavier and I don't know when I'm going to break and I don't know how much more I can take.

I'm just living on that blind faith like everyone says it will get better, I deserve better. I just wish better would come soon.

My attempt at an omelet.

Max licking me while I'm trying to stretch.

Rainier Cherries

Rich part of town

They don't know this yet but I'm going to live there one day.

Pride :)

Sunday Funday

I had a hard day yesterday and we'll leave it at that.

I woke up today knowing that if I do not turn things around now I will go down a hill that I will have to work extremely hard to climb up.

So I attempted to make a breakfast my boyfriend and I made last weekend that I knew I could eat and keep down. Turns out my impatience means I cannot make an omelet and I just turned it into a scramble. I sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes and begrudgingly added toast. Yogurt on the side.

Then I sat down to eat. I filled two pages in my journal about that meal. How it was too much, then too little, that I am ashamed, that I am anxious, that I am full, that I want more, that this tastes good, no I need ketch up, no no more calories...etc I'm really proud to say I got through it.. And that I took the time to be in touch with what's going on when I eat normally (ie not bingeing or restricting) and it turns out there's a lot. It's really scary to face my fears while it's happening.

I cleaned up and got ready to challenge another ED thing. Walking / facing the world when I'm full usually I just watch Netflix or go back to bed or purge. So after about 20 minutes of making excuses why a 15 minute walk shouldn't happen I popped my headphones in and headed out into the world, still in my jammies I just added a bra into the equation.

And I was instantly ok. I was instantly happy I had chosen to get out of the house. I saw the weekly rummage sale and all that comes with that. As I turned onto the main street by my studio I was surrounded by people, even though they were strangers I felt less alone. I was then pulled to go explore. EDM pumping in my head I saw things like this community garden that I didn't know existed.

And then as I slowly crawled out of whatever head space I was in and became myself I had friends text me and my boyfriend and slowly got the feeling of being me again.

I'm just reminded that whatever it is I'm going through right now isn't easy--and maybe this is the way it will always be. Some days are harder to wake up with a smile on than others but I'm teaching myself that I can pull out of whatever funk I'm in. It takes work but it's possible. I'm starting to turn down the negative voices and turn up my recovery voice.

Happy Sunday kids.