I feel lonley.
(you did this to yourself)
I left the girls that understand me best.
(but I was breaking)
And now I feel like I am falling.
(no I haven't had ED behaviors)
And there's nowhere to turn and no one to listen.
(you know that's not true, your best friends and treatment girls are always there)
I want to recoil and protect myself.
(I know how to silently suffer. I'll make you sorry you ignored me)
I'm just fucking tired.
(This is scarier than I thought)
You're still fucking doing it
(and you're doing just fine.)
Friday, May 9, 2014
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Big Steps
I can't believe I'm writing this.
Reality is hitting me in waves of emotion that makes my heart stop and my stomach drop.
The feelings are fleeting and I'm shaking and my throat tightens and then I laugh and can't sit still.
I am stepping down to out patient.
Which means I am no longer going to treatment 4 days a week after work.
Which means no more 12 hour days.
Which means less exhaustion, less anxiety, less depression, less breakdowns.
It also means less support, less handholding.
It means more responsibility.
It means more time for me--who I'm getting to know.
And It means I'm done with you ED.
It means I want a life, outside of THIS.
Outside of regimen and pain and relentless hounding.
Oh heavens this is more than I thought it would be. I can't collect my thoughts and what this actually means. I've got Strobe by Deadmau5 in my ears. Playing. Smooth. Calm yet electric. It's directing me.
I can grieve the past and all I have been through, the addiction, the pain, the sadness and the struggle. I can have that and I can hold that and I can feel that while also being really fucking excited--oh and scared.
You guys--I did it. I'm doing it. Here and now in this moment. I am the farthest I have ever come in my recovery. Just the realization that all of those little steps and the big ones and the hard work has really gotten me here. It's like I have been so focused on going forward I didn't look back.
My breath won't come out. I have to remember to breathe. The joy and the realization of "I've done it" or well "I'm doing it" and how fucking proud of myself I am is almost too much to handle.
I hear my boyfriend in my head "I'm scared but I know you can do it babe."
Breathe.
There is no real knowing when I'm ready to step down and try things on my own, but I do know when something isn't working. And the past month and a half hasn't been working. I've been drowning at work, with anxiety, overwhelmed by treatment, long hours, no time for friends, exhausted on weekends. No life. And I have been slipping. I was losing passion for writing, for getting up in the morning, for dancing, for who I was working so hard to become. That was my red flag--that's how I know something needs to change. And while I am working on getting a new job, right now I cannot do that, what I can do is let up on the long days, the stress and and anxiety.
So now what treatment looks like is therapy twice a week for an hour, a bi-weekly dietitian appointment for half an hour and an hour therapy group. Compared to 3 appointments a week plus 3 hours 4 days a week.
And it also looks like seeing my friends again, and incorporating them in this. I have not seen them in the 5 months I've done this hardly at all and I miss them so much. And I have a real fear that everything has changed while I was gone. That I am no longer welcome, that I am just the eating disorder girl, that I am fragile and they don't see me as a person anymore or that they even know who I am now. But then I listen to that voice in my head, my wise mind and I know that they were the ones who pushed me to go do this and they wouldn't abandon me, they didn't just see me as an ED before when I was mostly an ED so they can't now. I just fear abandonment, being less than, not worthy enough, a bother. Working on this.
I also fear you guys' (and I call myself a writer...doh) opinion. As soon as you hear that it was my decision and not the therapists to let me step down. Do you get mad at me? Do you support me to my face and then say she's going to slip? And again your opinion, your validation that I am ok is still something i search for. Working on this.
But guys, I am--here come the tears--I am so fucking excited.
It doesn't matter what other people think, it matters what I think and what I do.
And I want to live.
Reality is hitting me in waves of emotion that makes my heart stop and my stomach drop.
The feelings are fleeting and I'm shaking and my throat tightens and then I laugh and can't sit still.
I am stepping down to out patient.
Which means I am no longer going to treatment 4 days a week after work.
Which means no more 12 hour days.
Which means less exhaustion, less anxiety, less depression, less breakdowns.
It also means less support, less handholding.
It means more responsibility.
It means more time for me--who I'm getting to know.
And It means I'm done with you ED.
It means I want a life, outside of THIS.
Outside of regimen and pain and relentless hounding.
Oh heavens this is more than I thought it would be. I can't collect my thoughts and what this actually means. I've got Strobe by Deadmau5 in my ears. Playing. Smooth. Calm yet electric. It's directing me.
I can grieve the past and all I have been through, the addiction, the pain, the sadness and the struggle. I can have that and I can hold that and I can feel that while also being really fucking excited--oh and scared.
You guys--I did it. I'm doing it. Here and now in this moment. I am the farthest I have ever come in my recovery. Just the realization that all of those little steps and the big ones and the hard work has really gotten me here. It's like I have been so focused on going forward I didn't look back.
My breath won't come out. I have to remember to breathe. The joy and the realization of "I've done it" or well "I'm doing it" and how fucking proud of myself I am is almost too much to handle.
I hear my boyfriend in my head "I'm scared but I know you can do it babe."
Breathe.
There is no real knowing when I'm ready to step down and try things on my own, but I do know when something isn't working. And the past month and a half hasn't been working. I've been drowning at work, with anxiety, overwhelmed by treatment, long hours, no time for friends, exhausted on weekends. No life. And I have been slipping. I was losing passion for writing, for getting up in the morning, for dancing, for who I was working so hard to become. That was my red flag--that's how I know something needs to change. And while I am working on getting a new job, right now I cannot do that, what I can do is let up on the long days, the stress and and anxiety.
So now what treatment looks like is therapy twice a week for an hour, a bi-weekly dietitian appointment for half an hour and an hour therapy group. Compared to 3 appointments a week plus 3 hours 4 days a week.
And it also looks like seeing my friends again, and incorporating them in this. I have not seen them in the 5 months I've done this hardly at all and I miss them so much. And I have a real fear that everything has changed while I was gone. That I am no longer welcome, that I am just the eating disorder girl, that I am fragile and they don't see me as a person anymore or that they even know who I am now. But then I listen to that voice in my head, my wise mind and I know that they were the ones who pushed me to go do this and they wouldn't abandon me, they didn't just see me as an ED before when I was mostly an ED so they can't now. I just fear abandonment, being less than, not worthy enough, a bother. Working on this.
I also fear you guys' (and I call myself a writer...doh) opinion. As soon as you hear that it was my decision and not the therapists to let me step down. Do you get mad at me? Do you support me to my face and then say she's going to slip? And again your opinion, your validation that I am ok is still something i search for. Working on this.
But guys, I am--here come the tears--I am so fucking excited.
It doesn't matter what other people think, it matters what I think and what I do.
And I want to live.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
I'm Back Bitch.
Hi friends.
It's me.
I haven't written in a while because I was being a brat.
I didn't want to.
I was bitter that I have to write to feel my feelings.
To sort shit out.
That it's always a big huge event when I actually feel anything.
I was mad at the world that after a long fucking day at work, 4 hours in treatment and commuting home that I still have to fucking journal to get everything out.
I hate how much effort living life takes.
So I put myself through a rough time trying to fight against journaling, asking for help and living in recovery.
It did not go so well.
I have since put my foot down and said life fucking sucks when I don't do what I know I'm supposed to and started doing what I'm supposed to.
And I fucking hate to admit it but life is a bit easier when I do the work.
When I fight against those thoughts actively. When I reach out hourly. When I eat on my meal plan. When I allow myself a lazy day of Netflix. When I call my boyfriend to tell him I want to eat a cake...
When I do the things that are hard, when I push against everything my disorder is telling me that's when I finally get some relief, but it's getting the energy to do those things that is so hard.
Everything is just hard right now.
But I'm told it won't always be.
So I'm going to do my best to keep being honest with myself, honest to you and keep writing so I don't dig myself into a hole again.
The end.
It's me.
I haven't written in a while because I was being a brat.
I didn't want to.
I was bitter that I have to write to feel my feelings.
To sort shit out.
That it's always a big huge event when I actually feel anything.
I was mad at the world that after a long fucking day at work, 4 hours in treatment and commuting home that I still have to fucking journal to get everything out.
I hate how much effort living life takes.
So I put myself through a rough time trying to fight against journaling, asking for help and living in recovery.
It did not go so well.
I have since put my foot down and said life fucking sucks when I don't do what I know I'm supposed to and started doing what I'm supposed to.
And I fucking hate to admit it but life is a bit easier when I do the work.
When I fight against those thoughts actively. When I reach out hourly. When I eat on my meal plan. When I allow myself a lazy day of Netflix. When I call my boyfriend to tell him I want to eat a cake...
When I do the things that are hard, when I push against everything my disorder is telling me that's when I finally get some relief, but it's getting the energy to do those things that is so hard.
Everything is just hard right now.
But I'm told it won't always be.
So I'm going to do my best to keep being honest with myself, honest to you and keep writing so I don't dig myself into a hole again.
The end.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Mute.
I'm losing myself.
I'm in a dark place.
And I'm working so hard to try and get out of this depression that seems to have blanketed me but I feel suffocated.
I'm tired of struggling.
I don't want to give up but I want peace.
The light seems so far away.
The hope.
Recovery.
Where did that bright light go?
Where did I go?
I'm back in the very place that sent me backward.
I thought I had my footing and I've fallen.
I'm on my knees.
I feel the gravel under my palms.
On my knee caps.
My head hangs low.
Breathing in and out.
The weight is too heavy to lift my head.
Every time I try to ask for help the words sound shallow, soft, stupid.
I swallow them.
I drink them down.
I sink lower.
Who am I?
Where do I go from here?
How do I get up?
I feel so alone.
Such a burden.
My thoughts swirl.
I see everyone in their lives.
Their world.
What I am who I am is so small.
Burden.
Just stay quiet.
Shame.
So much shame.
I'm ashamed to post this.
I'm so grateful I have this outlet but it's so cowardly.
I keep calling people and deleting voice mails.
I type texts and delete them.
I speak words and change the subject.
Those closest to me barely know.
It's taking everything in me to not delete what I'm writing now.
I cannot explain what this suffocating feeling is.
Like it's physically dragging me down.
Gagging me.
Stealing my words.
My breath.
Where did I go?
I'm in a dark place.
And I'm working so hard to try and get out of this depression that seems to have blanketed me but I feel suffocated.
I'm tired of struggling.
I don't want to give up but I want peace.
The light seems so far away.
The hope.
Recovery.
Where did that bright light go?
Where did I go?
I'm back in the very place that sent me backward.
I thought I had my footing and I've fallen.
I'm on my knees.
I feel the gravel under my palms.
On my knee caps.
My head hangs low.
Breathing in and out.
The weight is too heavy to lift my head.
Every time I try to ask for help the words sound shallow, soft, stupid.
I swallow them.
I drink them down.
I sink lower.
Who am I?
Where do I go from here?
How do I get up?
I feel so alone.
Such a burden.
My thoughts swirl.
I see everyone in their lives.
Their world.
What I am who I am is so small.
Burden.
Just stay quiet.
Shame.
So much shame.
I'm ashamed to post this.
I'm so grateful I have this outlet but it's so cowardly.
I keep calling people and deleting voice mails.
I type texts and delete them.
I speak words and change the subject.
Those closest to me barely know.
It's taking everything in me to not delete what I'm writing now.
I cannot explain what this suffocating feeling is.
Like it's physically dragging me down.
Gagging me.
Stealing my words.
My breath.
Where did I go?
Friday, April 11, 2014
Lights-No This Is NOT About Ellie Goulding.
I cannot stop listening to this song.
Felix Cartel-New Scene CRNKN Remix
Listen to it meow. While reading this. Listen to it loud. And shut your eyes and just let yourself be.
Take a minute for you where nothing else matters but you and this and this moment.
When is the last time you reallly did that? Just took a second?
Ok but don't think about that just do this. Please.
Oh then read my stuff.
Felix Cartel-New Scene CRNKN Remix
Listen to it meow. While reading this. Listen to it loud. And shut your eyes and just let yourself be.
Take a minute for you where nothing else matters but you and this and this moment.
When is the last time you reallly did that? Just took a second?
Ok but don't think about that just do this. Please.
Oh then read my stuff.
Floating out of control
A quiet suffering
Pretty pretenses
Light show
Beauty
Enveloped
Goosebumps
Pump
Close my eyes
Transform
Fantasy world
Effortless
Whole
My hands are up and I’m throwing myself at the beat
Get this anger out
It is wrong
It is bad
It is scary
Power
Calm melodies
Hands paint the air with grace
Eye to eye
Shallow breath
All I wanted was more
Distance
Move effortlessly, simultaneously
Nothing calculated, authentic
Rhythm pumps through my chest
Through my arms
I reach for more
Can’t stop me
Don’t you dare stop me
I’m alive
So much in me
My fantasy is a reality
Living
Addict
The beat can’t get too loud
The bass can’t bump harder
Turn it up turn it up
Push this out
Make me feel
Erupt, I was freedom
Just feel, just fucking feel
High, I don’t want to stop
Eyes close
My protector, the light bounces
Singular bright white
Up down up down
Side to side
Then it goes and goes
My hands follow it
Twisting turning side to side around my curves
My legs follow
I’m stomping pulsing
More lights ignite
I have power
No longer am I victim
My energies are around me
Grace enters my movements
No thoughts just go
Feeling so outside myself and yet at home
Present real in the moment
And yet I’m imagining this all behind closed eyes
At a coffee shop
Inside my headphones
Jaw clenched
Eyes wet
Heart whole
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Slice
Energy surges through my heart
Slicing it open
My stomach fills with fear
I'm bare
Air dances in my rib cage
Fear of the possibility of failure
Fear of the possibility of success
Dare I look down
Dare I face it
Face me
This naked vulnerable small scared
Blink open
I see my heart working
Surreal it's happening right now life
I'm so aware
Heart beats my faith has no choice but to leap
No
I want to close off
Put myself back together
But the air is refreshing
I can breathe
Is this what living feels like?
Slicing it open
My stomach fills with fear
I'm bare
Air dances in my rib cage
Fear of the possibility of failure
Fear of the possibility of success
Dare I look down
Dare I face it
Face me
This naked vulnerable small scared
Blink open
I see my heart working
Surreal it's happening right now life
I'm so aware
Heart beats my faith has no choice but to leap
No
I want to close off
Put myself back together
But the air is refreshing
I can breathe
Is this what living feels like?
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Work Was Better: No April Fools
I'm really hungry and want to eat my snack.
I just got home.
I'm really exhausted.
Two more days of nonstop then I get a break.
Work was way more chill today--ahem I was way more chill today.
I finished on time with a bit extra to audit my writing.
To chat with people.
To eat lunch.
To be my recovery self.
To decorate my space.
I figured out that I wasn't receiving any emails.
So that's why I felt like no one cared...I couldn't see anything anyone was sending.
Doh.
My coworker but mostly friend asked me how my day yesterday was, that meant so much that she would even think to ask and care about the answer. She then lent her support.
I walked around in the sunshine by the water before treatment.
Saw a car covered in post it notes.
But mostly in GAP whose clothes fit me better than anyones.
I got some spandex pants---er leggings..why didn't I just say leggings? that will be grand for football season. BOOM.
Was on time for treatment.
I got the best cat picture from my friend which as I'm typing this I realize I left in the kitchen damn it.
Dinner was hard. I could hear the girls in PHP and I could hear eating disorders and I could hear things that annoyed me. I tried focusing on my new table my new support but they were so loud at the other table. I worked through it but it wasn't as smooth as I'd have liked. Progress not perfection.
I did however find out how epic a pulled pork sandwich is. YES.
I wish I had more time for me right now.
I feel rushed to relax.
I am mad that I don't have more than a half hour or so until I have to try to go to bed.
To do this over again.
And yet I must reframe.
I am happy. In this moment. No in this person that I am. In my life. I am happy.
I am doing it. I am slowly messily but surely meshing recovery with the real world and figuring out what on earth life is and can look like.
I just got home.
I'm really exhausted.
Two more days of nonstop then I get a break.
Work was way more chill today--ahem I was way more chill today.
I finished on time with a bit extra to audit my writing.
To chat with people.
To eat lunch.
To be my recovery self.
To decorate my space.
I figured out that I wasn't receiving any emails.
So that's why I felt like no one cared...I couldn't see anything anyone was sending.
Doh.
My coworker but mostly friend asked me how my day yesterday was, that meant so much that she would even think to ask and care about the answer. She then lent her support.
I walked around in the sunshine by the water before treatment.
Saw a car covered in post it notes.
But mostly in GAP whose clothes fit me better than anyones.
I got some spandex pants---er leggings..why didn't I just say leggings? that will be grand for football season. BOOM.
Was on time for treatment.
I got the best cat picture from my friend which as I'm typing this I realize I left in the kitchen damn it.
Dinner was hard. I could hear the girls in PHP and I could hear eating disorders and I could hear things that annoyed me. I tried focusing on my new table my new support but they were so loud at the other table. I worked through it but it wasn't as smooth as I'd have liked. Progress not perfection.
I did however find out how epic a pulled pork sandwich is. YES.
I wish I had more time for me right now.
I feel rushed to relax.
I am mad that I don't have more than a half hour or so until I have to try to go to bed.
To do this over again.
And yet I must reframe.
I am happy. In this moment. No in this person that I am. In my life. I am happy.
I am doing it. I am slowly messily but surely meshing recovery with the real world and figuring out what on earth life is and can look like.
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