Sunday, April 13, 2014


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.
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.
Just stay quiet.
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.

Floating out of control
A quiet suffering
Pretty pretenses
Light show
Close my eyes
Fantasy world
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
Calm melodies
Hands paint the air with grace
Eye to eye
Shallow breath
All I wanted was more
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
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


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
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.

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.

Monday, March 31, 2014

First Day Back Tougher Than I Thought

Today was harder than I wanted it to be.

I felt small.
My hands were sweaty.
I was shaky.
I talked too much. I talked too little.
I felt invalidated.
My manager has no idea how hard I've worked, what it's like, who I am now.
She has seen the PTO run out. The attendance record.
She sees a need for copy to be written and a copy writer.

No wait. Maybe it wasn't that bad.
I received smiles.
Maybe they care.
Maybe they do see me.

I look out at everyone writing.
The room is silent.
They have no idea how much is going on inside of me.
They are just here again on a Monday.
Reading articles.
Writing emails.
Going about their day.
Some have no idea who I am.
I am so small. Insignificant.
I do not matter.
I am back to where I was four months ago.
It's so easy to slip.

My heads spinning.
Clothes. Adjectives. Write. Better. Faster.
This sucks.
Just do it.
I can't.
Calm down.
I can't.
What's happening.
This used to be so easy. I have 50 more to go. One hour left. No hours left. Overtime. No pay. No break. No mercy. No one sees me. No one knows the struggle. I have no voice. I can't leave because I will fail. I need a break. No breaks because I won't finish. Get me out of here.

An hour after I'm supposed to I leave. Satisfied with my work.
Confused as to where those 7 hours went.
I walk in the sunshine. Free. But trapped.
My mind is back at my desk.
How was that so hard?
What is the truth?
I feel like I can't see or think straight. What really happened in there?

I get to treatment.
I can breathe.
I see my friends. My family.
I feel so at home here.
I am myself here.
I am comfortable.
I can eat, I have a voice here, I have a presence.

People actually ask me how I am and CARE about the answer.

I eat I laugh I feel.

I find my bestie. I run up to her. Five days feels like forever. I hug her and I cry.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing I just have a lot of emotion."

It's just that simple. Today was a lot. I'm not giving myself any fucking credit.

It scared me how quickly I saw myself slipping. The anxiety the anger the anorexia.

I can't not this time. I don't think there's another chance here.

But it's all in how I look at it. Last night I learned that I would be taken care of by a higher power. And  I need to believe in that now. I got through today and I will get through tomorrow and one day I will not just get through but I will live.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Wah Work. I Don't Wanna.

I want to purge. 
The anxiety of returning to work has my stomach sick. 
Remember to breathe. 
In through the nose out through the mouth. Again. Again.
I slowly release and immediately gasp for air.
I feel like I'm drowning--I am drowning. 
Swallowed up by worry and frozen with fear from the unknown.
Anxiety rocks my heart against my rib cage. 
The breath comes from my chest shallow, light.  
I'm outside myself. I can't calm down. 
Just calm down.
This goes on for minutes.
I don't know where I am or where I was or what I was doing. 

Then I'm brought back by the beat of Ultra 2014 streaming live into my headphones.

The steady heart of the music. 
I close my eyes and I'm back there, only two years ago.
When I was at my first ever music festival, UMF 2012.  
I'm a too skinny, scared, 24 year old, anorexic, bulimic me.
And somehow in that mix I began to find room for hope.

I felt it in the crowd. In the music. In the lights. The air. My breath. My body.
It was pulsing in the night.
I was completely sober and yet in those hours where the lights flashed and the beats crashed I was high.
Real and yet surreal.
In a happier, gentler world I never knew.

"You'll never fly if you're too scared of the height."

I was scared to go to Ultra back then.
And now I am scared to go back to work.
This is my second time coming out of a treatment center, trying to take those next crucial steps towards living a life without an eating disorder.

I am scared to fail, I am scared to succeed, I am scared to leave 'my home'.

And yet I went to UMF and I was so far out of my comfort zone. I was submersed in a world that while it was new and scary and foreign it was warm, it was love. People respected themselves, those around them, the air radiated love, positive energy.

There was a seed planted for the recovery life I am living today in those three days because I did something I feared.

Now I face my fears every day when I eat lunch, when I do not workout, when I talk about my trauma and when I ask for help.

And each time I am rewarded with a little more strength, a little more peace and a little more life.

The music quiets and the beat gets ready for a drop, my heart flutters and tears come to my eyes.

I smile to myself.

I close my eyes and picture myself next to the old me and take her hand and we sing the words together 

"Freedom ain't free it's a long road"

And she tells me it's ok to take this leap of faith.

"If you never say goodbye."

And now I am here and I am calm and I am ready for what tomorrow holds because I know there is a power out there, an energy that will help carry me through it as it did two years ago and as it will for the rest of the years to come.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Gah Help Me

When I write in here it's usually because I am overwhelmed.
It's almost instinctual the way I blog.
I have a thought, emotion, experience or all of those and my mind goes "I must tell them!"
I must tell you!

I think it comes from the uncomfortably of the intensity of emotions.
I have a very VERY hard time sitting with any emotion, even the happy ones.
I need to DO something when I feel something either to change it or lessen it or to get more of it.

So, the time has come to where I no longer need to be in a higher level of care. I am stepping down from PHP (partial hospitalization program)---that's what I've been in for the past two months, 5 days a week, 7 plus hours a day at The Emily Program (highly recommend it), now I'm moving into IOP (intensive outpatient program).

Which yes--smart ass--is intense.

Here's what my life will look like:

8 - 3 Work
3- 5 Therapy / Dietitian / Psychiatrist / Case Management (pick one of those for Monday to Thursday)
5 - 8 IOP
8 - 8:30 commute home
8:30 - ?? keep my long distance relationship going, stay in touch with friends, attend to my cat, fix food for the following day, shower?, blog?, Netflix? etc.

It will be very tough.
Just writing it out overwhelms me.
There is no real break. There is no skipping.

Ah I'm already doing it. Spinning. I do this a lot. Taking the bad and taking another bad and putting that bad with the bad and making it worse.

So I will have to reframe the above--meaning put it in a different light or perspective. 
And while it is a lot and I will have no time to see my friends who I desperately miss I still...

Get to go back to work and prove myself to MYSELF.
I will be able to text, call and be in touch with my boyfriend and friends then.
I will be able to be social with my coworkers.
I will get the chance to eat for the first time ever in a recovery setting at work.
I have the BLESSING of going to a treatment center and spending time there four days a week.
I still have Fridays and weekends off.

This is all worth it. But it will be hard. And I will need your help.
It is hard to admit that.

I feel ashamed to say I am not 100% better after two months. I have even had a very hard time with anorexic and over exercising behaviors lately in response to the stress of stepping down.

But I'm really using my recovery voice and being assertive (two totally awesome treatment things I learned) by asking you guys to please message me with encouragement, with a funny cat picture, with a how are you? with anything you like. Even if you're struggling with something. I love love love hearing from you all. When I feel less alone it is so much easier to stay on the right path. 

I'm really fucking proud of myself for coming this far. I've lessened my drinking, I am now only bingeing and purging twice a week (coming from three times a day every day), I have hope, I am no longer depressed, I have a voice, I have confidence, I am finding out who I am. And so much more that can only be seen and felt within me.

I appreciate all of you who read and reach out to me. Every one of you has had a part in my recovery and I'm so grateful.