Silhouettes, Echos

Just press play.

Song is Silhouettes by Echos. Check it.

Then let's talk feelings.

Like feelings that overwhelm you.

I don't know where to start, let's deal with it later feelings.

Emo, Dashboard Confessional, black nail polish, I never belonged feelings.

And yet I try to adapt.

When I go to write my mind becomes as blank as the page.

Even though I'm exploding with thoughts.

Things I want to share with you.

Things I want to purge.

Things I want to forget.

Things I wish I never thought.

Things I wish I never felt.

Things I can't speak about.

And yet they scream from my skin.
Your traces burn and the smoke lingers.

The only time I feel centered is when I write.

When I rip the words out of my throat and slam them against the wall.
An unorganized, honest attempt at expressing myself.
At making sense of myself.
I dare you to tell me my worst fears.
Tell me I don't belong.
Tell me I'm too much.
Tell me you don't understand.

The memories cut, leaving me vulnerable.
I confess my wrong doings, my shame, my imperfections.

Everytime I write I stutter. 

I speak my truth.
And I want to fix it.

It can be better.

That's what my life has been.

It can be better.

I can be better.
And yet there's a voice in me that wants to accept me as I am.
I want to be as impulsive and imperfect as I am.

Is anyone else as confused as I am?

I feel like the unknown destination in front of me should be exciting.

Should give me hope.

But it gives me dread.

I fantasize about a life that isn't mine.

Toy with what self-acceptance looks like.

I never can escape 14 year old me.

The one who decided that starving herself was the way to live.
Limiting her food, bingeing on men.

And now I'm full of regrets.

I want to be someone.
I want to matter.

I cannot be no one.

Because then I will become as insignificant as I feel.

As deep as the hole in my heart is.

Wanting a father who could never be there.
And a mother who had no more to give.
And it's not fair.

And it'll never be fair.

Because the only person that can make it better is the one who caused it.

All I want is you to say my name.

To see me.
Everyone else saw me but you.
And judged me.
And I was this thing.
This beautiful thing.
That never amounted to anything.

Starved, abused, confused.

You did this to me and now I'm captive.

Held by your actions and impulses.

Held by your sickness and weakness.

I don't want to be a grown-up anymore.

I don't want to have to stand tall.

I want to be held.

I want to be safe.

But my soul is housed in a graveyard.

And my body is my enemy.

And my mind plays tricks.

You stole something from me.

I'm paying debt to your sin.

I will never be safe.

I will never be home.

I will never be who I should be.

Because I can never escape who you made me.

Landslide

It's just past sunset, and I'm on a walk in my neighborhood. The light is just enough to see where I'm going and into people's houses. I take each house in as quickly as I can while my long legs carry me at the pace I've come used to (fast) from being late everywhere. I see people in their own lives, caught up in their heads, or with their families, I see the moss-covered lawn ornaments in the overgrown grass--a reminder of a more productive and inspired time. I see decorations inspired by Pintrest and staircases that make me wonder where they lead and whose room I'm seeing. I'm so present and yet entirely absent.

I remember my friend shared a song, Landslide by Oh Wonder with me that I had yet to listen to. The text was followed by "I love you." Being that we usually share bass-heavy bangers Landslide caught me off guard but gripped my attention. And I hear the words:

I know it hurts sometimes but
You'll get over it
You'll find another life to live
I know you'll get over it

And I feel that tightness in my throat and the tears in my eyes--the sensations I've been avoiding at all expenses (going out instead of saving money, drinking when I know I shouldn't, staying out instead of sleeping, not showing up to work). I realize it's been a while since I cried, since I let myself feel. 

I have felt like I'm drowning lately, too much to do, not enough time. I have felt far away from myself, the girl I started becoming on my own in Seattle. The girl in recovery. The girl who believed in herself. But every time I stop, I can't sit with myself. I'm not even really aware of it, it's instinctual. 

And even though I'm so busy, I feel like it's not enough. Most of my day is made up with trying to remind myself of all those Pintrest quotes that remind me of how I want to live my life. To not forget what I should be doing, what I didn't do, and what I will do. Writing and rewriting my goals, not understanding why there's such a disconnect between what I want to do and what I actually do. 

As I reread this I see how little credit I am giving myself. It's not anyone around me that's creating the feeling of failure, of too busy, of shame--it's me. I have the power to chose happiness everyday and instead I'm looking at what isn't working, what didn't happen, and where I can still improve, hardly do I ever acknowledge the growth, the effort, or the hope that's there.

But when I do I'm so much happier, when I do basically I'm able to give myself that confidence and calm that I crave others to give me. When a friend tells me to "be kind to myself" to "give myself more credit" I can but I (but I'm working on it) struggle to be able to give myself that own acceptance, grace, and love.

Today it hit me that I'm trying to control my future and avoid my past which is making me miss the present. The belief that I have to be happy in order for me to function in my day causes me most of my distress. The lists, the notes, the reminders all there to help me avoid the very thing I need to feel--pain. 

The pain of losing my best friend to hatred, jealousy, insecurity, and selfishness. 

The wounds that are reopened every time he is mentioned.
The anger towards her.

The shame that comes with not being fixed yet.

The insecurities that keep me frozen at work.

The anxiety that interrupts my day.

As I write and bring up all of these I get more and more uncomfortable in my body. My thighs feel huge, I feel so fat when I sit I won't allow myself and haven't all day, regretting eating dinner. ED is here, to the rescue. Distracting, all consuming, relentless.

And I've gone through therapy enough to know that I need to go through these emotions and discomfort to ground myself again. Then the rapid thoughts of everything I haven't done and need to do and the dishes suddenly seem more attractive.

The fear of feeling the pain is probably more powerful than the pain actually is. I guess what I'm getting at is I am going to go cry after this.

But before I do that, I wanted to make sure I said what inspired me to write in the first place. The song reminded me to have faith. And believe that everything does work out the way it was meant to in the end.

All I have ever wanted is to love and be loved. And as simple and concise as that statement is it is so incredibly complicated. But because I started listening to my heart, had faith, and did the scary shit I'm at a place where I believe what I want most I'm getting.

I wanted love from someone who didn't love me anymore, not like that. I was so busy focusing on what was lost I didn't see who I had found. I found true friends, I found courage, I found strength, and I have begun to find myself.  

And every time that you're lonely
Every time that you're feeling low, you should know
I'll be there for you, I'll be there for you
I'll be there for you, you know

Read all of the lyrics here.

Morning Ritual

Listening to: Kito Views From SW2 Mini Mix

I've got to keep this quick as I'm 5 minutes over my morning time.
I give myself a half an hour to settle in and get my mind right before writing. Usually goes like:

Inhaling coffee
Socializing
Watering my rose plant which has not had any roses on it since I got it (sad face)
Reading Daily OM
Checking Facebook
Pintresting until I realize I've gone over my time
And occasionally reading JCrew (delightful clothing and copy to match)

However, oh how do I summarize the last couple of days?, ED has been extremely loud to the point where I was skipping full meals and unable to focus on anything but the voice in my head. I drank that night, engaged in behaviors, spiraled, fought...

Woke up so fucking over it. I want recovery so badly but I (and this isn't fully true) don't know how to obtain it. I can't get to the other side of the street. I need a million and one things to hold my hand to get there: friends, BF, therapist, changing habits, a higher power...calorie free food? haha I AM SO FUNNY.

I somehow, blessedly, found the fire in me that I had at the Emily Program. I am sick of being stunted in my growth because of this back and forth bullshit with the eating disorder, the judging voice, the anxiety. I've been spiritually asking for help and with friends and slowly my old coping skills, thoughts and determination has come back -- not fully people,  I'm not fixed, i didn't just find the answer (even though I'm sure they'll invent a pill to fix me soon -- my ED humor is alive and well today).

So going along with this spirituality comes repeating my values to myself, journaling more, telling the voices to shut up and go away instead of being entranced in them. It goes with being in touch with myself my authentic self.

When I became unemployed it was clear I needed direction and ritual which came in the form of journaling and listing my values (acceptance, authenticity, balance, connection, respect, gratitude) and going on a walk.

I wanted ideas for a new one so I googled and came across this. It's gold. The smiling in the mirror at myself thing for 30 seconds. Like wow. It seriously worked.

I've got spinach and other green smoothie things on my grocery list, I'm going to buy a body brush...

Basically instead of wanting or wishing or feeling blocked I feel like I'm able to take action against those things that once paralyzed me just days ago.

I believe it's because I'm finally acting in alignment with my values.

Boom.

Ok, morning meeting time.

Love.

Acceptance, Acting As If and Other Advice I Should Take

Oh life.

You just are so fucking funny right now.

I see you with your sarcasm.

When I’m finally situated to write on the Bolt Bus—shoes off, one leg mashed up against the seat the other one on the ground for stability since my seat apparently doesn’t need to be bolted to the floor.  I’m hunched over like The Grinch attempting to type with my laptop sitting on the empty seat next to me as my purse and denim jacket act as an efficiently failing desk.

I’ve had to switch positions twice since the girl across from me in the aisle decided to make out with her fork instead of use it to eat her salad with it. I wish I wasn’t so sensitive to weird fucking people.

All I want to do is go home in peace.

But that’s hard to do when you’re on a public bus with Chatty Charlie who has a voice for a children’s television show and an opinion reserved for The View.

I’ve got I Mean It, G-Eazy and Remo on repeat in my headphones while I type this so if “fuck” and “bitch” slip out more than often—so every four words—you’ve had your warning.

I try so hard to ignore the world when I’m in a mood like this—lack of wanting to be a  decent human being mood—and it seems that the world doesn’t want to be ignored.

I made fun of the girl sitting diagonal from me before boarding the bus. Her Lana Del Rey headband was asking for it. Of course she would be across from me and she would fucking give me the most genuine smile when we hear Chatty Charlie snort at his own joke.

I would ignore the ‘pushy’ bus driver who was only trying to put my bag away for me and then so kindly greets me when I get on his bus.

I would make fun of fucking Chatty only to see him give up his single seat so a couple can sit together.

And who knows what lesson Fork Girl could teach me if I didn’t have my back to her. Sans salad of course.

Continuously The Universe and my Higher Power teach me lessons, give me guidance and I still have an insanely hard time giving up my illusion of control.

My list making, my “what if, and then” fantasies, my manipulating.

I’m going through a really big change in my life.

I’m relocating from Seattle to Portland to take that next step with my boyfriend.

That means new city. New job. New lifestyle. New friends—no friends at first.

I have no idea where we are going to live.
I have no idea where I’m going to work.

I have no idea what kind of money I’m going to make.

I have no idea what living with a significant other looks like.

And I’m still fresh in recovery. Like Bambi fresh.

This is all so new to me and it’s so exciting, so romantic, so right—and yet fucking frightening.

I have stayed up til 1 AM way too many times already Google mapping where a gym is in comparison to a grocery store in comparison to a bus stop then trying to find apartment complexes that are within our estimated price range. Only to come up empty handed and feeling more frantic than ever. Zoom out repeat.

So I try job searching and I’m pushing my resume and I’m suddenly the best receptionist ever. Ya I love the service industry. Yes I love cold calling. Yes I like suits. Of course I’ll work overtime. WHAT?!

Then I’m living in the city. No I’m traveling an hour to my nonexistent work via the bus. No I’m in the suburbs. There’s a Target. Ok cool yes I can do that.

There are too many what ifs? Then this? Or then that. It’s a web of confusion and I’m stuck.

And of course I’m talking to my man about this (hahaha I never say my man but I just wanted to) and we’ve come to the conclusion to slow the fuck down and take it one thing at a time.

BUT IT SO DAMN HARD. I want the answer and I want it now. I want to know and I want to feel safe. I want to feel secure. I want everything to be ok.

And yet I have little examples every day that show me that it WILL be ok. AND I STILL FREAK OUT.

However, by the fact that I’m in recovery, I’m alive and I have a great life The Universe keeps proving to me that everything will be ok even though I do not see how or what that looks like just yet.

So some tips that help me with this and might help you if you are crazy like me:

-Act as if. So say you totally want to keep checking your ex’s facebook but you know you shouldn't but you so want to one last time (not like last time’s last time but this last time)—just act as if you are that new person you want to be and don’t do it.

-Repeat: “Resistance is suffering.” – So say it. “Resistance is suffering.” When you resist a situation, how a person is acting etc. it doesn’t change said thing. It just makes it harder on you. So Chatty Charlie—who is still going strong an hour and twenty minutes in—is still going to talk and I can be passive and glare and blow out my eardrums or I can say he’s fucking annoying but he’s not going to stop. I appreciate the conversation he’s having with the person next to him. Him talking doesn’t mean I can’t listen to my music or I cannot write.

-One Day—or thing—At a Time. – There’s a reason this is so popular in AA and other anonymous programs because it fucking works. When you look at your day and you see all the shit you have to do you probably want to crawl in bed. However, if you just see that you have to just get to work then do the next right indicated step when you get there it’s not as daunting. So I should listen to myself. I need to see if they are going to take unemployment away from me—then we’ll go from there. I cannot and will not pick my job, apartment, budget and fucking welcome mat tomorrow. I will stay in the present moment and focus on that and only that because that’s all I can do, all I want to do and honestly all I need to do.

Checking In

This is a letter I wrote to my therapist and dietician this morning. I haven't seen them in two weeks, nor have I said one word to them. 

"I feel like we are friends who had a slight falling out and I'm not sure how to approach you again. Or where I stand.

But that's crazy. 

I've twisted being away from treatment into this huge thing that's creating me a lot of anxiety.

I wanted to prove to you all that I could do it on my own (not that you ever dared me to). That I could just do AA and not have behaviors and be free finally.

Wellit hasn't gone that way. I've had ups and downs but more downs I'd say. I've BP at work two days in a row causing me to not finish my work. I have felt like even though I know what the right thing to do is I can't stop doing the wrong. I know that I can't just deter from my meal plan for a buffet at work for a moment to pretend like I'm normal. But I did it anyway. 

I see myself doing things that I shouldn't do, like stealing, bingeing, trying to get on the light rail for free, running red lights on my bike and I feel I can't stop. Each choice makes me more mad at myself and watch the negative pile up and the failures so I can't see the good.

I'm a bit calmer now but the past couple of days I've just been upset and not known why or how to fix it or feel my feelings which pisses me right off.

I haven't followed my meal plan, I haven't been exercising, I haven't been going to AA, I haven't been talkign to anyone about what's wrong and it's left me miserable. I don't know how many fuckign times I'm going to have to go through this until I get it through my head that this is no way to live but it looks like I had to do it once more.

I feel out of control. Who knows how much I weigh now. I know it's gone up. I can feel the rolls on my stomach and sides when I do things like bend over or curl up to sleep that weren't there before. I had an illusive control when I was doing ED behaviors regularly like over eating, under eating, exercising compulsively but now I don't have that illusion and since I can't do what I used to do to feel in control I feel even more out of control.

I hope this makes sense.

But what does make me feel calm now is getting to work on time, helping other people, eating on my meal plan, keeping my room clean, hanging out with friends, working out normally and i've been doing that too I just have let the negative over shadow everything again. So I guess I'm ok now. It's just when I think of my weight and how much I've fucked up for so long I can't bear it and want to just run and run until there's nothing left of me, nothing left to feel or see or hate."

Thanks for reading.

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.

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. 

Sweet Cherry Pie

I woke up this morning with so many thoughts racing through my head about what I did last night.

I had gone out.

I had binged and purged earlier that day even though I did everything I could to not.

I almost binged before going out.

Then I was extremely late because I couldn't find an outfit that looked right.

I get there and ran into at least three different graduating classes from high school.

I almost fought this duuuude...duchebag…who flicked his drink in my face when I told him to leave my girls and me alone.

I saw and talked to girls I used to envy and be afraid of in high school—ones I put on a pedestal, comparing myself to them constantly, knowing I'd never measure up.

I stayed out til the lights came on.

My DD got pulled over.

We stopped at 7-11 for goodies…I made an impulse decision.

I got home and ate.

Now, usually all of these things would be bad. Usually I would have had too much to drink and have racing thoughts of regret attached to each of the above statements. But last night I was sober and I didn't have my drunk goggles on, I saw my night through different glasses. It looked like this…

I went out last night. – Thank god because Ed had me wanting to give up, go home and isolate.

I had binged and purged earlier that day even though I did everything I could to try to not. – I was able to stop it before it got really bad.

I even almost binged before going out. – BUT I DIDN'T.

Then I couldn't find an outfit that looked right. – But I ended up finding one that showed off my new amazing, exquisite breasts (Anchor Man…) and even got compliments on them (THAT NEVER HAPPENS)

I get there and ran into at least three different graduating classes from high school. – Which was really fun, every time I turned around there was a new person I WANTED and ENJOYED talking to. I didn't get scared and quiet.

I almost fought this duuuude…douchebag…who flicked his drink in my face when I told him to leave my girls and me alone. – I was in a very sober state of mind and this guy who was trying to entice us with his drink sloshing and "baking" during Cherry Pie was not.

I saw and talked to girls I used to envy and be afraid of in high school—ones I put on a pedestal, comparing myself to them constantly, knowing I'd never measure up. – But they complimented me, said it was nice to see me, my nerves weren't there and the conversation was genuine, it was easy.

I stayed out til the lights came on. – which usually means I am at the bar trying to get in that one last drink but I was no where near the bar.

My DD got pulled over. – she was sober J

We stopped at 7-11 for goodies…I made an impulse decision. – I got a Slurpee and it felt great to get what I, me, Kris wanted not Ed (usually would have been cookies and candy bars).

I got home and ate. –I had a sammich because I was hungry and stopped there. Usually I would eat anything and everything until I felt sick and throw up in order to go to sleep.

I'm on a high right now, and it's the high I've been failing to get from food, exercise, booze, purging, restricting. It's this genuine, organic happiness … this light.

I have a clear head, I remember everything last night, I didn't check out, I don't regret anything. Oh AND I found $20 on the floor. BOOM.

I've had a VERY hard time lately. I can't seem to not listen to Ed when he tells me "just this one last time we'll eat this…" "just have the cookie … and add this peanut butter to it and maybe syrup would taste good" "Well you've already started might as well go for two more bowls of cereal…." "You have a disease … just give in to me…" 

I've been trying to find that combination of food and flavors that makes me feel happy, high, relaxed … but after many binges and attempts I've come up with nothing but pain.

But I've found it here.

And I've found it because I was honest about my struggles, and because I acted rather than reacted.

I went to an AA meeting at 7:30 before going out. And after I prefunked with a latte and a girl who has 18 months sober. We talked about our addict state of mind. I felt less alone, less like a freak, less ashamed. It was freeing, it's what I've needed and I want more.

I've found the gray area of my black and white mind.

And it's from doing what I'm told. 

It's from writing gratitude lists, staying in a positive state of mind, from trying, from giving a shit about myself, from going to treatment everyday and from calling up ChaCha and telling him I need help, from going to AA meetings and confessing that I have an alcoholic state of mind. It's from doing the work that I need to do and following direction.

I had to do a lot of reaching out, going out of my comfort zone and talking back to my disease last night. It was not easy but my God was it worth it.

THANK YOU to all of you who read. Every time I go out I'm approached by a new person who reads this mess of madness and confession. 

It's an embarrassing yet flattering feeling. 

Your kindness, encouragement and words lift me up and I'm truly grateful for you. 

God bless!

All You Have To Do Is Ask

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

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

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

I try to write.

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

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

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

Deep breath.


"I want help."


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finding Faith

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<3

Fuck You Fries

I couldn't stop staring at this. Anyone realize what's wrong here? Anyone?

If you said: The fries have barely been touched. 

YOU ARE CORRECT!

Those fries belonged to my brother, Steven.

Dad, Steven and I were at Blue Moon Burger for Fathers' Day.

I hadn't seen either one of them in way too long.

And here I sit staring at fried potatoes.

I had to consciously drag my mind away from how much I wanted to eat those fries, and my bewilderment as to why Steven hadn't devoured them yet.

The kid couldn't stop talking about the amazing work he'd just finished doing at Whipple Observatory in Arizona with a professor. His burger sat, with a perfect bite taken out of it, lonely, unnoticed as all of his attention went to trying to explain to me different physics terms, facts, theories and other super intelligent thingys.

Poor burger. If I wouldn't throw you up and hate myself for eating your delicious, fattening, greasy goodness I'd have never let you sit there for so long.

The third time I had to say "Wait. What?" to Steven I realized just how much attention I was giving his food, that I was so inside my own head and my obsession and my twisted thinking that I was ignoring my little brother talking about one of the coolest experiences he's ever had. That's fucking stupid that I do that. And yet I do. That burger and fries was like an open bar to an alcoholic. Or dangling drugs in front of an addict.

I had to laugh at myself though. Realizing that this really is a disease, a physical, mental and emotional disease. Which led me to realize how different I am. And not just because of my disease but just how different of a person I am from my brother.

And at first I was ashamed.

(please keep in mind my wheels are turning and working this through as I try to understand spectro-something theories and hold conversations with my family haha)

Steven talked so passionately, excitedly about his work at the observatory. He showed me pictures to point out what he was talking about. He cared whether or not I got what he was talking about. It made me admire him even more than I already do.

So then my mind wandered to: What have I done lately? Oh ya I wrote about tie-dye tutu tee shirts. And my new zit cream is so not working, but at least my eyelashes look pretty today. And I um get my hair done on Monday. COOL LIFE.

I made the comment that I was too stupid to get what was being talked about. And as soon as the words left my lips something inside me said "no you're not." And the fact that, on my own that came up as a red flag is huge improvement. That instead of continuing to put myself down I stood up for me (it's  fun fighting with yourself).

Then, by the grace of God, I began to embrace and make fun of the differences between myself and my brother.

The burgers and fries were their splurge. Mine was having ketchup and a couple fries. And Parmesan cheese on my chicken.

And that's ok. Because that's who I am. That's where I am at in life.

It's ok that when Steven said helium I immediately thought of sucking the air out of balloons and talking in funny voices rather than it as an element.

That when I heard the words "Super Nova" I didn't think of an exploding star but rather Zenon Girl of the 21st Century.

And it's even kind of cool that I started jotting down notes in my phone so I could remember what I wanted to blog about later.

Because while I am not a scientist, I am a writer.

There are a lot of things I'm not, but that makes me who I am. And I'm learning to stop fighting that and embracing it. So kids, and you should try this too, here are five things I really like about myself.

1. I like my witty sarcasm
2. I like the shape of my lips
3. I like that I will dance at any time and anywhere 
4. I like that I wear a ring on each finger
5. I like that I have a blog (and if I may add to that-I like that you're reading it)

Now those are not that exciting, cool and really quite random but they help make me who I am. And who I am is slowly becoming ok and I'm slowly becoming ok with who I am.

For your viewing pleasure:

Acceptance is Seeing with Your Heart.

In the kindergarten room at church there is a sign with a puppy dog wearing heart shaped glasses ... because well what ELSE would a dog wear? regular shaped glasses? I think not! Anyway ... so under neath this adorable K9 are the words.

Acceptance is seeing with your heart not with your eyes.

I read and reread that line over and over again.
Ya I understood it but did I really UNDERSTAND IT you know?

After working Pridefest this weekend I saw a TON with my EYES.
Did you know that you're allowed to walk around completely in your birthday suit as long as you have body paint on? I did not or else I TOTALLY would have changed my outfit. (I wish I could narrate my posts and let you HEAR my sarcasm...hopefully you've caught on by now). So I saw a ton of pasties and um a couple of penises and beautiful men in heels and chains and boas and women wearing mustaches and wings and just whatever they wanted to!

So yes I SAW somethings but I also in turn ... saw with my heart ... like the little Wishbone of a puppy in the poster wanted me to.

I saw families dressed in gothic attire, plaids, feathers, and pink mohawks waiting in line at the Ferris wheel. Mom and mom were taking turns entertaining their little 4 year old girl ... also dressed in goth ... never seen a cuter kid in a skull shirt.

Then there was the single older and rather attractive dad (with graying mowhawk)and his son. Little guy had freckles and blonde curls and a mouth on him ... poor thing bawled all the way around the miniature Ferris wheel.

What I'm getting at is that love is not tangible, neither is faith, but you know it's there.

I could see with my eyes that these families were not conventional but with my heart I knew that there was love. With my heart I had a deeper understanding of their lives are and what love really is.

That passion you can have for someone else. The involuntary butterflies in your stomach. The literal heart wrenching pain when you miss someone so much it hurts ... all of that is from an emotion, feeling you cannot describe or see BUT IT'S THERE.

I already believed in equal rights and that you should be able to legally marry whoever you like but after seeing the love that two people of the same sex can have for one another I REALLY wanted to write about. Just to be like I UNDERSTAND!

There are so many unhappy straight people that are married and why should they have the benefits and the title and the wedding when others who are in love can't?!

I don't know my politics so forgive me but when I saw the love caring passion happiness that every couple had for each other there this weekend I got a deeper understanding of what love can be and what it can do for you.

Love you cannot see or hold or throw or take away it's there whether you like it or not.

Just like God or whoever your higher power is is there. On those days when you think this really sucks ... when you take disappointment after disappointment ... or when everything seems to be clicking God is there.

I hope this sparks something in you.
Makes you think.
Helps to make you feel less alone.
Or something.
Just felt like writing. Sorry for the sporadicness.

<3 Kris.