Going Sober For October

Oh heavens.
Just typing this post makes me anxious.
Fear of judgement and failure--and judgement if I fail rises in my stomach.
But having people to help hold me accountable and to support me is key to my success.

Reducing how much I drink is a path I've been on for years--since my DUI in 2011. And I've toyed with sobriety and AA and moderation. And I've done the opposite: not given a flying fuck. 

AA wasn't for me. I hate cutting things out entirely--it makes me want it more. Ever been on a diet? Ya you get it. Don't think about the white elephant. What are you thinking about?

When moving here the relationship I was in was party-centric. And with having no friends and desperately wanting connection I did what everyone else did, party--only I'm not like everyone else. Alcohol and I go balls to the wall or we don't hang out at all. I can't always say no, and have a hard time moderating. And this isn't because I have a problem with it, it's because I use it for the wrong reasons.

-connection
-reduce my anxiety
-boredom
-to be included
-to hurt / punish myself

If I used it for taste, the occasional relaxing night, to celebrate an occasion I think that would be alright, but this uh habit or hobby of mine has become more of a necessity / something I can't say no to.

And it makes sense, it was my crutch and my "friend" (if you will) to try to help me feel at home and relaxed in a place where I felt so homesick, alone, and anxious. And then after my breakup my only social interactions and way of meeting new people was around booze.

Now that I'm on my feet again and in the best place I've been in almost a year, I still have this nasty habit. Drinking one or three a night, getting the munchies, all of a sudden wanting to pay for everyone's drinks, not giving a fuck: really adds up. 

And I'm sick of using my disposable money in a disposable way. And I'm sick of being sick. And I'm tired of being tired. And I'm over getting over hangovers. 

I have hit a point in my life where moderation isn't working and right now the best thing for me is to go sober. And that's what I intend on doing.

I started this venture last Thursday and restarted yesterday. After losing the resolve I had Thursday after therapy in a matter of hours I realized my therapist was right--imagine that--I need to replace this bad habit with good ones. 

So if you're inspired by this and wanting to challenge yourself here's what I'm doing. 

The thing about change is that you actually have to change. 

Write out what are things you like doing or want to be doing that don't involve booze:

• hiking
• crafts
• improving my portfolio
• modeling
• dancing
• writing for shows
• cooking
• lifting
• shopping / creating outfits
• reading

These things are now what you do instead of drink. You HAVE to pick things you really enjoy doing (if you want to run but hate it--don't do that--do something you'll enjoy).

Pick three things from that list and get someone who is sober or will be willing to respect your choice not to drink with you to do these things with. I picked:

• hiking
• reading
• crafts

Call up three friends that will support and respect your desire to go sober for the month. Set one day a week (or whatever works for you as long as you're committed) to do these things sober. 

I see this method working because these things and situations are able to give me what I wanted all along: connection and relief from my anxiety.

It'll put me in situations where I can practice going through the social awkwardness, learning how to combat the thoughts in my head and make real true connection with those I'm with--as well as myself.

This er method has already started working. Because of the commitment I asked someone else to make with me, I can't break it and go to the party I was invited to on a Tuesday. I can't go drink after work because I have to meet a friend early in the morning to go hiking. 

Once you get a few days under your belt and honor your promise to yourself and in turn yourself it'll get easier. 

While last night was my first night of staying sober, I was challenged multiple times and it was hard to say no but I did and I feel so much better for it this morning. 

I also have a list written out as to why I don't want to drink (plus other goals) and I keep it printed out on my desk at work. I read it morning and night and check in to see how I did that day. Where did I do well, why? Where did I fall short, why?

It's a commitment and it's not easy but I know it's worth it. 

My list for not drinking is:

• reduce mood swings and anxiety
• increase sleep
• reduce spending to save
• physical fitness (who wants to go to the gym hungover?)
• my job (showing up on time is a thing I heard)
• my friends (not being able to be present or there for them is something I've come across too many times)
• my relationship (being a new one I cannot grow false connections with him early on)

So while it's called "Sober October" I'm starting well yesterday. Having a goal that's only a month seems more attainable than to never drink ever again in my life. 

One day at a time people.

Cheers! ;)

Let's Get Sexual.

I've been waiting for you.

The anticipation is killing me.

This excitement only comes with the unknown.

My heart skips a beat. My head races.

Then I see you.

My stomach drops.

You start off slow. Tease me.

With the lightness of a breath you trace up my spine.

My body is alive with anticipation.

My breath quickens.

I let out a yell.

I can't help myself. 

I want you. All of you.

You've enveloped my senses.

I don't know where I am.

What have you done.

Don't stop.

You bite at my ears.

Play with my hair.

I stretch my body to the sky.

Vulnerable.

It's just us.

Just do it. 

Make me lose control.

And with one movement. In one second. 

You have all of me. I'm yours.

Pulse push twist turn. 

Grab me. Hold me.

Make me work.

Push me harder. Pump it faster.

Excitement shakes through my body.

Here it comes.

Lift me up. Get me high.

Sweat drips. Hearts race.

I pulse to your pace.

I'm yours if you just take it-take it all away.

You see me at my worst and bring out my best.

You make me feel alive. Transformed

Take me away from who I am. Where I am. What I am.

Make the impossible possible.

There's nothing other than this moment.

And this is all I need.

Exhausted you slow.

I've never felt more alive. Calm, serene yet awake—aware.

Present.

You are my hope. 

My ease. Happiness. 

Maybe everything will be ok.

Maybe life is this simple.

EDM you are everything. 

So I was trying to be dirty and make you think I was talking about ChaCha and I and well that's just none of yo bizznass. But I wrote this to apply to how EDM makes me feel time and time again. Nothing but my higher power who I call God and electronic dance music get me as elated as they do.

So screw you bulimia and alcoholism. I just need to hear the bass drop.

Not Too Shabby

Mytummyhurtsreallybad.
And it's because I've finally been eating normally after about a month of bingeing purging starving myself then eating a bunch of delicious fried stuff followed by beer for four days.
It does stuff to you.

Ewe. Yes I went there. Everyone does it.

Ok moving on.

If you can't tell I'm in a rand ol fucking mood.

I am genuinely happy right now.

Yes, this is the same girl that wished she had a hole to crawl into and never leave on Tuesday but oh my time flies.

So what's been going on? I'll tell you.

I've been doing what I'm told. I've followed my meal plan, I've eaten what I wanted (IE chocolate covered pretzels with lunch today), I'm going to a meeting a day and I'm being honest.

I got called on for my first time in AA since I started (which means you have to talk or well you don't have to but they would like you to). And my mind went blank and I was like fuck what the hell am I going to say to this group of strangers who are all sober and I have 3 days?

And well that's pretty much what I said. I told them how much I hate myself for not being able to stop. How I didn't think I could hate myself more the next day but tomorrow was today and oh look the loathing got deeper and the failures got larger and my insignificance grew.

I told them how I want help but I don't feel like it'll happen to me. I told them I'm scared as to what my life is going to be like if I keep up this way.

And then I told them I'm grateful for them because they understand that even though I want to stop I just can't stop. They don't get mad at me when I mess up.  They offer me a hug, a word of advice but mostly they just accept me and right now since I can't stand myself I need that acceptance.

After I talked I had girls and guys come up to me. Let me know that they feel how I feel or have felt how I felt. They made me feel included rather than alone and excluded. They made me feel worthwhile. They understood.

And at work since my friend that I went to Sasquatch with just needs her space I think (and rightfully so) I've been kind of a loner. I don't make friends easily and I over think everything and usually end up talking to myself about how much no one likes me rather than just saying hi to someone else. SO basically when I do something stupid, find a new song, want to get coffee I have no buddy. I was feeling sorry for myself until last night when I told my room (and hoping my God, whoever he is was listening) that I need help and to just give me some slack and he answered.

He put the courage in me to talk to other people at work. To reach out to them instead of wait for them to say something to me. To not stand awkwardly waiting for the microwave but strike up a conversation. It really isn't much but having the confidence to talk to those people and have them respond has felt wonderful.

Also, I just left a meeting. It's a meeting that I used to go to last year when I was trying this sober thing out. I would show up late, have to stand because I felt fat when I sat and I would leave early because the idea of talking to those people scared me. But today I was on time, listened the entire time and stayed through the end and met new people.

I'm feeling lucky happy and blessed and even though I know this won't last forever it's good to know I can have it right now.

Finding The Silver Lining In The Shit Of It

So after crying my eyes out and talking about a pretty bad / shameful night in here, with friends, my sponsor and my higher power I realize that long story short, I just got too drunk.

I don't have to feel like shit about myself forever.
I don't have to ask for constant forgiveness.
I don't have to suck up to my friends.
I don't have to be ashamed and hang my head.

Not to say what I did wasn't bad or doesn't mean anything but I just made a mistake-a big one but still an honest to God mistake. I made an ass out of myself and most likely you've done it too.
 
People make mistakes, it's how you react to those mistakes that matter.

What caused me to drink and has time and time again is negativity.
My mind goes that direction naturally, that's just how Ed has taught me to think over the past 11 years and it's a hard habit to break.

If something is gone I don't think I misplaced it, I 'know' someone has stolen it.
If I hear someone say my name it's not because they are giving me a compliment, it's because they are making fun of me.

You get it.

So, after beating myself up and being physically sick all day because of what I had done I decided to put my big girl pants on and get the fuck over it.

In order to do that I had to take action.

I apologized to my friends. One accepted it the other hasn't said a word to me and well that's on her.

I reached out to friends to help me talk my feelings through and make sense of what happened and why. I also just needed a pick me up.

I laid in bed and watched the rest of Weeds. I made myself a bomb ass sandwich. Did some chores. Basically made me feel human again.

I called ChaCha and we went and got pho for dinner. He gave me a pep talk or two and a much needed hug.

I talked to my sponsor about how to not skimp on program and what me drinking meant while working the steps.

And I went to bed on time. Peacefully and sober.

I didn't over eat or throw up.
I didn't give in and just get drunk to help me fall asleep.

I just took the next right step. I'm trying to follow direction, do what I'm told by people who care about me instead of what Ed and booze want me to do.

When they come up in my head and have me start to tell me how much I suck, how fat I am, how to not eat that, how I'm lazy...I just tell them it's not true and to leave me alone.

This is the first time I've figured out that positivity and kindness to myself will help me more than hating myself and just sitting in my anxiety.

So maybe this had to happen in order for me to grow, learn who I want to be and that who I am now isn't who I'm always going to be.

I Fucked Up

I have tried writing this all afternoon.
But I don't know how to begin.
So bear with me.

I drank  this weekend. I drank the entire weekend. I was all set not to. I almost had my 90 days. And then the anxiety came over me and I knew I would be obsessed with wanting to drink until I got that drink.

Now while my friends supported my sobriety I'm a grown woman and they aren't going to tell me no.

I'm finding it hard to have a balance of saying excuses while taking responsibility for my actions.

I fucked up. And I got fucked up on the last day, so yesterday, of Sasquatch.

I had been pretty good about pacing myself and being aware, happy that I was not wasted, so I could enjoy the music and the atmosphere and not have a fat hangover. But then something in me got off balance and I found myself at around 5 PM walking to go get a disgusting Margarita beer thing in a can.

As I walked alone across the lawn I was hoping someone would see through me and stop me. I didn't want to do it but I couldn't not.

I got my drink and walked back to my friends who were waiting for me. We had to jet back to pack up the tent so we could come back in time to see the last bit of artists.

I walked up to them hiding my shame. I couldn't not drink even for one day. We were supposed to be hurrying and here I am with a mancan in my hand of 8% fruity shit. I tried to act like I was fine. Totally normal. I mean look around us, everyone's drunk or on something right? I'm just fitting in.

We got back to the tent which was soaked and the girls started cleaning up. I of course hadn't packed so I was holding everyone up. And as I tried to hurry I seemed to be going slower. The alcohol was already effecting me and I could feel the angry, bitter, alcoholic in myself coming out.

Every suggestion and action I tried to do was wrong. So I'd try again. And again. And nothing was right. I began to get bitter so I opened up another beer.

I knew what I was doing and I wanted to do it. I felt like the outsider and wanted to put a bigger gap between them and me. I was the girl with issues. The one who was out of place. The one that couldn't stop doing her makeup when she really should be racing to go see a show. The one who needed just one more shot. The one who wanted to do what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it. And they don't have my anxiety issues, my food / alcohol addiction issues and I wanted to punish them for it by proving them right. I am fucked up. I am a loser. I am a failure. Look how good I am at failing.

Meanwhile keep in mind this is all in my head none of this has been said aloud by them. As I drank more and tried to help more I felt more and more guilty. More hate. More anger. More disgust with myself. So I just drank more.

I tried to break the bad vibe in the air by apologizing but I wasn't sure what I had done. All I could feel was animosity and like the outsider. Once again, like always, I didn't fit in and I couldn't do it right.

I went to Alt J with one of the two girls and I could sense the distance from her. She was onto me and my alcoholic ways. So I just talked to strangers made new friends. Ah see? This is why we drink! So we can be 'normal' make people laugh 'be happy'. I don't need my friend to have fun I have booze.

So then we split up so I could see Steve Aoki and I wanted to make more friends. Feel this high. This high of belonging. Of having fun. This is what I'm supposed to do at these festivals right? Make new friends, have crazy fucked up stories, LIVE man LIVE! So I got another beer.

Talked to a Canadian dude who leaves for Europe in two days while finishing the brew. Now I'm living. Now I'm having fun. I knew I just needed a drink or two that's all. Why did I think anything was wrong?

I ran into the venue and danced and danced and danced. I asked to join strangers dance circles. Everyone was welcoming but with an edge of "this girl is fucked up."

Then I got the idea to meet my own friends again. Be the good drunk. The one that listens and goes where she's told when she's told to. Then they'd like me.

If you've never been to The Gorge or seen pictures then you should do that. But long story short it gets very packed at the mainstage. I attempted to find my friends in hundreds / thousands? of people when drunk in the dark. I had no luck. So I said fuck it! More booze! I'll go see Rusko.

Thank God they cut off everyone at 10ish and I got no more beer.

The rest gets blurry.

I have the memory of finding my friends. Them not seeming happy with me.

Insisting I pay for Taco Bell and eating an entire Crunch Wrap Supreme and taco. Then the rest of the bagels and peanut butter in the back of the car while drunk dialing everyone telling them that 'everyone hates me.' Repeatedly. Mind you this is at 11:30 PM and most people work tomorrow.

I then went on to tell ChaCha to breakup with me because I'm such a fuck up and I'm not worth it. All of these issues. All of these needs I have. I'm sick of them I'm sick of me, he should be too. He deserves better.

I woke up this morning with a Steve Aoki tank I don't remember buying and peanut butter in my hair and a sickening feeling of regret.

I've apologized to my friend and she accepted it but she's not forgotten what I did or how I acted. I have a heavy amount of shame and hate for myself right now. I can't go back and change what happened. I can't get the images of me fucking up and fucking up more out of my head. I can't shake this feeling of regret.

What I can do is do my best to move on. I've come clean with my sponsor and today is day one. I've listened to some AA speakers and done my best to eat on my meal plan. I don't know what it's going to take for me to start listening to everyone else but  my disorder but I feel like this is a big push.

If I want to move forward I can't keep looking back.
If I want to be happier I can't keep thinking negatively.

I fucked up. Really fucked up. And it needed to happen for me to appreciate the gift of recovery that I'm being offered. My tail will be between my legs for a while and I'll be awkward around my friends for a bit but I can't let this shame, hate and anger keep putting me in this cycle of behaviors.

I don't know if this makes any sense but like always I appreciate you for reading, reaching out to me, being honest to me and never giving up on me.

Purging My Feelings

I planned a binge last night.
I planned two actually.
And I did them and that was it.
Then I called out sick to work even though we're really busy.
I slept until 11:30.

Then I woke up and reality hit.
I am upset with myself.
I hate that I have no control over my actions and that I keep putting this stupid disease before everything else.
I cancel hangouts with friends, I don't go to work, I don't go to AA, I don't spend as much time with ChaCha because I want to stuff my face and throw up.
It's disgusting. It's shameful and I hate myself for it.

I keep feeding the disease though (pun intended).
I keep feeling like shit about myself and keep it in so I don't annoy others.
I realized this morning that I don't want to tell anyone I'm struggling (anyone in my 'real life' opposed to treatment life). I want to tell them I'm fine. That everything is ok. That I'm working hard and it's paying off when in reality I'm scared, I'm sad and I'm lonely.
I am afraid people will leave me and get as sick of me as I am of myself if they knew the real me, so I lie.

So when I lie I keep it all in. Which is why I had a breakdown yesterday in the North parking lot of Century Link Field. I was so upset all of a sudden I couldn't get on a bus to go to treatment. I couldn't let myself go there though so I went to the gym and numbed out for as long as my body would let me.

Then I got home ate an entire box of brownie mix and threw up right before ChaCha came over.
I didn't mention it to him because I feel like I always have such issues and I'm so annoyed with myself that he'll get sick of me too.

So I held in the hate and shame longer. I met with my sponsor and casually told her what was going on as I ordered a donut from the coffee shop. I was starting the binge again.

As we read the Big Book I would tune out thinking of what I would eat next and how good it would feel to release it all.

I left her and went straight to the store.
Bought my food.
Did my thing.
And woke up at 11:30 this morning and had to face everything I've been avoiding since 1:30 yesterday. It all hit me at once. And I had to get it out.

I found out that because of my absences that I'm going to get in trouble at work. Rightfully so. But this makes me hate myself more. And as I try to eat a normal lunch Ed is already telling me to screw it up. I'm just a fuck up. After yesterday I don't deserve to eat. I should be at the gym. I really can't do this. And I really should just keep hurting myself.

I told my mom I had a hard time and she  went on to tell me how I shouldn't be posting this online. And I'm most likely hurting my chances at getting a new job by skipping work and having this for the world to read and judge.

And well she's right. But I took it as you're a failure. She reiterated all of the things I already know. My fears. What a disappointment I am. How I'm so slave to this disease. So now I feel worse. Plain and simple.

I just want someone to listen. To tell me I'm going to be ok. Because right now it really doesn't feel like it.

So I'm writing I'm getting it all out. I am feeling the stomach turning hate and sadness that I've been avoiding. I'm letting the tears sting my eyes and my throat go dry. I'm feeling the uncomfortablility that is being me where I'm at right now.

But I'm trying. I'm still fighting by letting this out. By finally being honest. By eating on my meal plan as much as I really don't want to. I'm trying. And that's all I can keep doing because I know how much it sucks when I don't.

Thank you all for your support and for reading.
You have NO idea how much it means to me.

Love,

Kris

And then ChaCha calls. And he tells me he won't get sick of me but if I don't try to help myself then that's what will do it. I need to believe that my friends and my family want to help but they can't help me if I'm not honest. If I don't try. He always has tough love for me. I'm lucky to have him.

Stoned

I feel like I'm high.
Like not weed high-the only drug high I've felt and when that happens I think my feet don't work-stupid-but like light, airy, easy breezy, sand in my toes and the sun on  my skin high.
Like that feeling that comes when every light is green on the way home from work, an old friend calls you out of the blue and it's sunny on a Friday.
That kind of high.

But in reality, it's Thursday, raining and not much has changed from last week's melt down to now. Except EVERYTHING.

I had become obsessed with losing weight again.
Was constantly condemning my body, working out and restricting.
Working on my little plan by my big self.
This only put me deeper into my disorder.

What got me here is you people who coaxed my authentic voice out.
Who told me that I am beautiful. That I am not fat. That I am just how I'm supposed to be. That I can do this. That Ed is a bitch.

I can't thank you enough for reaching out when I really didn't want help.
Or actually WE didn't.
WE wanted to be in that space. We wanted to be miserable that way all I could see was us two.

But you people wouldn't let us.

While I still honestly want to smash a mirror / cry when I see my thighs and ass there's something that tells me that having great legs isn't what it's all about. That if I stay at this weight that my life isn't over. It's just beginning...hahahaha had to.

If I keep working to accept that this is where I'm supposed to be I can stop worrying. I can stop obsessing. I can start to live.

How I've gotten here is also by taking action against these feelings. Before I was just letting them happen. And well I guess I needed that to happen to get here.

Now I'm actually talking to Ed, out loud (like a crazy) and telling him he's wrong or to leave me alone.

Now I understand what I use Ed for and how to start to not need him anymore.

My therapist explained it to me like this: there's a lot of distance between me and my feelings / emotions. I created that space with distractions like binging and purging, overeating, obsessing over not eating, obsessing over eating, working out, drinking, thinking about drinking, being hungover as fuck. Now, that I'm not doing those things as much there's still that space. I 've begun to fill it with being busy (not hard when you work full time, do treatment, AA and have a second job oh and friends) so as soon as I stop and have a second where I'm not distracted it all hits me at once.

This would make sense why my breakdowns were in the AM and on my one day off.

So now the goal is to keep telling Ed to shove it.
As well as saying my feelings aloud when I feel them.

I got to practice it as soon as I left treatment yesterday: "Dear Asian lady, I felt very pissed off and upset and annoyed when you almost hit me with your car while I was riding my bike on the crosswalk and I had the right of way."

So now the hope is that this won't come back to haunt me when I have a moment to myself.

I also can't thank you enough for calling me pretty, saying you like what I look like that I even look better. I am trying to accept that you wouldn't say this unless you meant it.  Keep the compliments comin' ONLY if you mean them. Otherwise you make Ed right-that you just feel sorry for me.

I haven't advertised this as much out of shame for trying to get sober once before and breaking it-but I'm back in AA. I have a sponsor and we are starting the steps this Sunday. I have 31 days today, which I didn't even realize because it made me sad as to how little there were at first.

Also, I've been praying. More on that later.

Lastly, on Saturday I'm going clothes shopping (shorts and bras specifically) with a friend from program. This is my first time admitting that I need bigger sizes and I'm doing something about it.

Thank you everyone for your support and for reading!

Like Anyone is Going To Read This On a Friday Night

That was me a year ago. I was too skinny, just out of jail (seriously), miserable and confused.

Today was supposed to be a celebration.

To mark how far I've come.

How successful I am now.

How changed, enlightened, happy, healthy…whatever…I am.

I'm writing to you from the tangled blankets of my bed. My eyes sting every time they close because they are dry—that's what happens when you throw up three times in three hours.

 I am disgusted with myself.

I have more support than I've ever had.

IOP at the Moore Center which I go to four days a week.

A full time job with understanding lead and manager.

A sponsor in AA and the fellowship.

My wonderful boyfriend.

My gracious friends.

My now understanding parents.

And yet here I am. Eyes half open. Hands shaking. My stomach nauseated. My throat raw.

Some celebration.

I see the negative working in my head. It wants to bash me, make me hurt. Just give in…you've already fucked up your meal plan…fuck up your sobriety. Let everyone down. Who cares? I mean really? They'll just be disappointed for a while but you've put them there before. They've heard it before. Just do it again.

This all started when I stopped drinking.

The compulsion to overeat was uncomfortable. I would find my mind drifting to what I could binge off of "for the last time." I began to mourn my eating disorder. I never understood that until now.

So I did it. I looked everyone in the eye and told them I was ok as my destructive plans worked in my head. I binged and purged last night. It hurt. It was not enjoyable.

However, I woke up rejuvenated. Happier than I'd been all week. Shit. This eating disorder DOES serve me a purpose.

4 hours later I'm eating my lunch an hour early…then going into my snack. All my food gone before lunch even started.

I slowly began to binge after that. Grabbing snacks, cookies, breads, cakes no one stopping me. The rush of doing it in front of people. The hate for myself swimming in my head with each bite.

I was so full I could barely move—this girl was not going to treatment. It was family night too. So I bailed on my recovery team, my parents and myself for food. Luckily work got so busy that I ended up having to stay late.

So I had to sit with all this food in me. It was so uncomfortable.

I called my AA sponsor for peace. She gave it to me and yet I could hear the thoughts going. "Maybe this one last combination of food…cake batter and cookie dough…maybe that'll do it…"

But I fought it. I fought it for an hour until I found myself at QFC with the cookies in hand.

So I came home and did what I do best. I ate until I couldn't stand up and barely had to force myself to vomit. Then I did it until I was shaking and stomach acid was stinging my throat.

"There. That's it." I thought. And yet I forgot, like I do every time, that that "last time" isn't my last time. I found myself searching the cupboards for another concoction that'd wake me up give me that jolt of whatever it is I needed. Nothing came out so I just ate things I knew I could throw up easily.

I know this is graphic but well, I'm being honest. This is the only place I am honest. Because I don't have to look at any of you…I don't tell my best friends this or my treatment friends…the shame is too great. But here I can tell the black and white of my screen and release. Anyway…

So I did it. And then I did it again. And now I can't stop shaking.

I'm supposed to go to Lucky in 2 hours. I'm dehydrated, exhausted and well fucked up. A drink sounds good right now. Escape from my escape.

 But does it really sound that good? What did I just learn? That bingeing and purging didn't help but rather hurt so what will my other addiction do? Help then hurt.

I can't tell if I've come as far as I thought, there's that negativity again.

So here goes my gratitude list:

·         I'm so grateful for ChaCha he listens to me and doesn't blame me for any of my faults.

·         I'm grateful I'm not in jail right now

·         I'm grateful for finding glitter nail polish and flower clips at Walgreens

·         I'm grateful that my mom and I talk pleasantly to one another every day

·         I'm grateful that I get to dress like a slutty rainbow tonight and it's ok

·         I'm grateful that I have gigantic boobs to show off tonight

·         I'm grateful for Gatorade because my electrolytes are so fucked up that I could have a heart attack if I don't drink the stuff

·         I'm grateful for the legs I hate that allow me to dance all night long

·         I'm grateful for Pretty Lights because a year ago at Ultra they helped change my life and how I felt about shows.

Thanks for reading. 

Treatment Day : 11 The Saying Goes...

I feel like a superhero - that super sucks at being normal.
But I guess that's why I'm super?
What I mean is that I'm totes living a double life.
I forgot it was fall until I saw decorations in a Starbucks. This usually is my favorite time of the year and my room would be full of pumpkin spice candles, warmly hued decorations and my closet full of new snuggly clothes.
Instead my shorts are scattered all over my floor, I can't find my lighter for my non existent candles and my decorations look very similar to unread mail.

I just popped on a normal outfit - zebra shorts, boots and a sequin top - to run errands in my neighborhood. Who would have known that walking through the smell of Dick's, bumping into drag queens and a marching band would be a breath of fresh air? I got my fix of reality when browsing the aisles of QFC under florescent lights with people that are complete strangers.

I stopped by my gym and said hi to the front desk guy. Had small talk with other members. It's crazy to me that no one knows I'm in treatment 11 hours a day, that 2 hours ago I was sitting in a confined facility eating dinner while being watched by diet techs and therapists. I was facing my deadly disease in a circle on comfy couches under the comfort of my snuggy while holding back tears. The woman who I talked about the gym's tanning with has no idea.

Which got me thinking, what is she hiding? What is everyone else going through? You really can't judge a book by its cover.

One thing that hit me is that when you see me you don't see my disorder, you see ... ME. When I see others I don't see their worst trait, I don't see their flaws, shortcomings and imperfections...I just see them. I also can't see their successes and pride...I still just see them.

Two days ago I went to an AA meeting. I am still not sure what my relationship with booze is. So better safe than sorry.

I walked in sat down and felt that something was off-the men were just too attractive.

As soon as we began to read the 12 steps and I heard "Oh yea gurl" it hit me.
I'm in a gay meeting.

Luckily I was wearing a rainbow headband, sweatshirt and hadn't shaved my legs in 3 weeks (yes I'm disgusting I know, I'm also single) so maybe I passed. NOT that you can judge a book my it's cover-I'm just trying to be funny.

Anyway, so after the happiest, silliest intro to a meeting I've ever had the speaker for the night started talking.

He through me for a loop. He was all slicked up and had piercings, gelled hair, Nikes on really clean cut. But as I looked at him and listened to his story, his appearance didn't all fit the man he was describing. He had committed many crimes, which he was so good at he got landed in prison and basically hit rock bottom. He ended his story about how we was going home to his family and he could barely get the words out because his emotions had taken over.

I was right there with him.

If I would have seen him at QFC I probably would have given him a stanky look for his bleached Eminem hair and forgotten about him two seconds later. And yet here in this meeting he told me things I needed to hear like:

"I'm a liar, a cheater and a terrible person when I'm using."
"It works until it doesn't."
"It's not wrong to love yourself. I was surprised when people liked me for being me."
"Change is hard."

The meeting ended  with a bubbly sounding serenity prayer and I ran out of there with a fat smile.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is that people will have their thoughts about you. You can't control them or what they say to you and what it really comes down to how you see yourself and how you act.

All my life, since I was 12 and the girls started being mean to me and I couldn't figure out why, I've been trying to please others. I lost myself long ago and didn't have any fucking clue as to who I was when I really started looking. I still don't know who I am and that is the scariest thing. I will be the first to admit I'm petrified of the unknown and not having control. This is why I do what I do with food and exercise, I want to know the outcome I want to feel secure in something. Without the food and my habits and my skin and bones I don't know who I am. Also, I have to try to live up to higher expectations, of the girl I see sneak through my ED now and that's scary.

Basically I'm just a wuss. However, I've started to find my voice and that voice is beginning to rival ED. Currently though it's a constant battle, like watching Real Housewives in my head. Just exhausting, pointless and over dramatic-and I don't even have to pay for cable.

God = Two Black Women in a Bathroom Stall

So I am too lazy to write.

Just watch.

<3 p="p">

Sorry For the Profanity

Lately, I've been confused. Ok well maybe that's not a true statement, I've always been confused, a tad off shall we say, uncertain, hmm indecisive…oh wait I'm doing it now…not sure which word to use, how to present my thoughts, what those thoughts actually are.

Living in my head is like 20 questions plus 100 more.

And while I'd like to always have a moral, an inspirational, invigorating, totally kickass post for you, three days ago I wanted to give you guys this…

"I don't know what to fucking say. I don't know how I fucking feel other than I want to rip things from the walls and throw them around until the pressure and tension and anger that I have is gone. Until I feel better. Until I'm not confused anymore until I can make sense of the fucked up shit in my head. I don't know what I'm fucking feeling so don't fucking ask. I hate coming clean with you because that means I have to come clean with myself and that brings to light all the fucking issues I have. All the shit I don't know. All the shit I feel. All the shit I don't know I feel. I don't know if what I hear in my head is God or me trying to make myself feel better.

Why is it so scary to be me, ALL of me? Because I'm not sure who that is. I have all this shit piled up all these issues addictions I don't even know what just stuff that's coming out of me and I can't handle it. I never learned how. But it's my disease that's causing the shit but I deal with that shit with doing this shit. WELL SHIT.

And I don't want to fucking pray. I want to feel better now."


That is unedited, raw, very angry shit people. And really embarrassing to put up here. Thank God I don't have to actually watch any of you read this…THAT'D be creepy.
However, the reason I share this with you now is because I've realized that I'm doing this right. This meaning fuckinglivingman and right meaning correctly FOR ME.
I have been asking my sponsors, my friends, my family, and God what the next step is. Why can't I get it? What am I doing wrong? What do I need more of?

I've been so focused on what needs to change that I don't realize what I'm doing. The fact that I wrote all that messed up angry stuff above means that I stopped and ACTUALLY WROTE IT OUT. I didn't eat my entire kitchen, throw up, I didn't drink, I didn't go to the gym for 3 hours…which is, in order, what I would usually do.
I got out my laptop and had a little fit and talked to God. And I felt better after. But not immediately. It wasn't until today AFTER CHURCH (I say that in caps because the entire time DURING church I was supposed to repent I couldn't get all of my stuff to come out right then bam time was up everyone out so I was pissed off that I wasn't healed and still confused) that I realized I've been looking to everyone to solve my problems, tell me how to do it correctly, when I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN DO THAT.

I'm the only one I have to make happy in my life, I'm the only one who has to live with me for the rest of my life and I'm the only one who can change me (saying for the rest of my life wouldn't really make sense here…but it doesn't flow very nicely without it…)

So I am comforted in knowing that my messed up stumbling path that's pretty much blind is slightly working. I throw up 2 a month, haven’t drank in 3 and sad to say HA I think I'm sick of starving myself. I am happier than I've ever been, and even though I'm not sure if I'm doing it right, how it should be done, how it's been done in the past, I'm fucking doing it and it's working.