Friday, June 12, 2015

I Fucking Hate Love Songs.

Now that I'm single and going through what I can dramatically yet honestly call heartbreak -- I fucking hate love songs.

And yes it's because they remind me of what I thought I had, and what I thought was true (still working on how to work that out -- it looks something like radical acceptance, grieving, and a stark change in perspective).

But it's also because all they talk about is being reliant on the other person. NOT HEALTHY (said in Gru's voice from Despicable Me--watched that too many times lately--no, there's no such thing). Like I can't live without you. Fucking romanticizing codependency.

No, no, no.

And as I go through some of my playlists now I'm doing a major overhaul because sadly but not surprisingly most of the songs that used to make me happy make me sick. They remind me of my twisted, distorted view that I was supposed to throw myself into love and my relationship to be happy. My existence revolved around my other half, my Mr., my man.

GAH NO.

I can't say it enough. Seeing what happened to me when he left my life--how depressed, and seemingly incapable I was freaks me the fuck out. That just one person had such a hold on me. That I thought I was being a great girlfriend by being so dedicated (well yes loyalty and commitment is important) but just that I threw myself into the relationship with such abandon that I abandoned myself.

I mean it makes sense. I came here in early recovery, no friends, no car, no stability but him. So I can't blame myself but I can learn from, er--myself.

They always say you can't love anyone else until you love yourself. And that is so true. I couldn't find peace within me, I couldn't give myself grace, I couldn't give myself credit--I NEEDED him (and others) to tell me all of these things.

And now I'm learning how to do that. I think I bitched about not seeing how this was a good thing a while back, but now...I see the light ha no but really it's fucking great. Like I talked about before. I'm finally learning how to take care of myself emotionally and well physically (since we're on that subject--yay for eating) which I never learned before.

By doing the following:

-positive self talk (it feels really fake and stupid sometimes but my goodness it makes my days easier)
-learning how to ground when I start to spin in anxiety
-asking myself what I need (am I scared? how do I comfort that? am I lonely? let's call someone)
-distraction (not avoidance)
-and that's about it for now

I'm not sure if my posts are getting repetitive. I just have never seen life in this way and I am so damn excited about it (scared, scared should be put in there too). I've been posting a shitton of selfies and I'm proud of me statuses because I've never given myself credit for my looks or my efforts before and I'm in the honeymoon? stages of all these beautiful realizations. And also you folks are pretty damn nice and boost my spirits (hey I'm not that self-sufficient yet).

So while being so intertwined with someone you can't live without them (Twilight?) sounds romantic and what most of the media seems to tell us is what we should be searching for, the idea of being independent, confident and reliant on no one but myself is so sexy to me. Powerful.

So screw you Disney (but seriously I love your work---I just think it's fucked), and love songs, and Twilight. I'm out to be my own Prince Charming.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Mom, Look at What I Did!

I had no urge to write for months and now I'm flooded with thoughts.
I danced alone in my room for the first time in months.
I dance usually when I don't know what to do with my energy and emotions.
And it's not like interpretive dance -- rather Missy Elliot. Video to come. I swear.
I feel like I'm running, tripping, grabbing at everything I'm learning.

Yesterday at the gym I weighed myself and I didn't like what I saw.
I'm afraid I'm losing weight.
The thought overpowered me as I watched myself curl 20s (heck yes) seeing my muscles, lean and toned.
I discarded them--it's just because you're too skinny now they have to show through.
You're failing on your own again.
God haven't you learned by now?
I convinced myself that the guy behind me thought I was disgusting.
I hung my head in shame, forcing myself to look down as I moved through the gym.
It was my unspoken cue to everyone that I know I'm shameful, so please for the love of God don't tell me.

I began to panic as the thoughts raced in louder and faster, feeding off each other. I couldn't control my mind--again.
Most days I feel out of control. No matter how hard I try to make lists, plan my day, set reminders -- control, control, control I can't.
The more I try to control, the more I lose control.

People always say (mainly my mom's voice comes into my head) "I wish you could just let go."

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? I can't. I can't just let go. Don't you think if I could I fucking would?

But yesterday something clicked. I realized the more lists I make, the more I try to negate what will inevitably happen, the more I shun my ADD brain and try to shut it down the more I spiral out of control.

So yesterday when my mind was spinning and my heart was pounding I told myself that these are the moments that matter--this is where you do something different, this is where you try, this is where you grow.

And I put back the weights, and I did some yoga and noticed the thoughts without judgement and tried to recenter myself. I made the scary decision to scan my body, connect with it (real hard for me). And I turned my music up loud. The pulsing beat, feeling my body's natural pull towards balance--I calmed.

I got up smiling. I FUCKING DID IT. The thoughts did not consume me. I was not powerless. I actually do have control.

I have been acting like life is happening to me, and I'm helpless. Moments like these and a lot of Beyonce and Britney remind me that I am stronger than I think.

So I got back up and finished my workout with my head held high and my heart a little more whole.



Tuesday, June 9, 2015

This Is Incredibly Hard to Write

I have been going through a very hard time.
I have never felt this way.
I do not want to exist anymore.
I do not want to hurt myself, but I just no longer want to be me.
I see myself as broken, panicked, depressed, lost, desperate, hopeless.
I feel unsafe, and not unsafe like I will hurt myself (please hear that) but like nothing is secure, and well, safe. I can't find the words other than that.
And well it makes sense. 
I have had nothing but instability for the past 8 months.
I have lost most of my support system.

I have lost the comfort of Seattle.
I was in an unstable relationship for most of the time I've been here.
I have moved twice now.
I started a new job.
I have fleeting friend groups here.
Nothing is stable.
I am unstable.

And I have been bullshitting all of you. I post selfies to try to feel good about myself (because well I look good and I know it but that doesn't do anything for my heart). I post statuses about the places I'm going and the accomplishments I'm making. I act like everything is fine because I want it to be fine but I have been writing in here for too long and been too honest with you all to stop now. 

So...I AM NOT OK. I feel more depressed, anxious, and generally fucked up than I ever have in my entire life. 

And I haven't written in a long time out of shame. Not knowing what to say and also for a lack of passion. I write these posts with overwhelming emotion or a need to tell you all what I learned and for months I didn't feel that. Until right now.

I am the most scared I have ever been in my life, and that includes facing my eating disorder. This time I am facing everything without much support and frankly as ashamed I am to say that I clung to this figure so much during these times,a boyfriend.

What I am facing right now is what caused the eating disorder. I am having body memories (physical reactions because of a memory) and reliving the very thing I've been running from since I was 12. When it all happened.

When my home was no longer my home, and my stability was taken from me. I was not taught how to deal with what happened, so the eating disorder started. It was an escape, it was a distraction, it gave me a reason to go on, a reason to be, the thing that got me accepted, that told me I was ok.

And now at 27 I'm having to figure out how to do that on my own. And it is fucking frightening. I wake up in a panic every morning with the sinking feeling of being alone, of being incapable, of like so many out there not knowing or wanting to deal with me anymore.

But I have to 'deal' with me. I am the only person that can help me and while that's a wonderful realization and an over posted pintrest quote I do not know how to do that. And I kept trying to write shit after that but I'm just going to leave it at that. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I AM DOING.

Except well, my therapist threatened me with treatment again if I start slipping. And as much as treatment helped me I don't want to go back so right now as fucking pathetic and lame as I feel for being here again, I am just working on eating, sleeping, showing up to work. All of which I'm mostly doing. Support is another key component, so if you can be that for me, in whatever way from talking, listening, distraction etc. please let me know.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

The Breakup

"What if it was ok to be yourself?" asks my therapist.

My heart drops into my stomach. My immediate answer is "No."

I try to wrap my head around it, not only the question but my reaction. Isn't that what I'm all about? I thought I was so independent. Isn't that what all those songs are about? "I don't fuck with you."? What all those Pintrest pins are about? "Just be yourself, everyone else is taken." 

I'm told to sit with this feeling. I don't want to. There's a pain in my chest and my eyes burn. Oh man, here they come. And I ugly cry about the realization that for most of my life by very influential people I've been told I'm not ok the way I am, to deal with myself, that I can't handle you anymore.

Since this session, my nearly year and half relationship  has ended. That question keeps finding its way to the forefront of my mind. "What if it was ok to be yourself?" 

My relationship didn't last because we wanted different things. He knew what he wanted, and he wanted it more than me. And me? I thought I wanted him. I thought I was being so smart and authentic by putting my relationship first, believing in love, fighting for it, dedicating myself to it. Doesn't lifelong happiness matter more than a job? 

The answer is yes, but what I was investing all of myself into was not going to end up the way I wanted. But I kept pushing, it had to work, I didn't leave everything I loved for it to all fall apart. And yet that's what it was doing. Slowly but surely our differences appeared and I didn't want to face them. 

I have spent most of my life thinking that things go sideways because there is something wrong with me. People left me throughout the course of my ED because they couldn't deal with me, because I wasn't good enough, because there was something wrong with me.

That's the storyline (oh therapy) that I've told myself over and over and over. And believed it wholeheartedly because I needed to make sense of what was happening, so that way I could try and fix it. And try I did. I would try to mold myself into the person I thought I needed to be so I could be accepted, and was exhausted because my authentic self was screaming at me that this wasn't right. I got very good at ignoring it.

And after my conversation with my therapist, a couple of TED talks and a fuckton of courage, I'm noticing more and more that I shut my heart up the instant it doesn't make sense. My ex wanted things I thought I should want. So I tried to conform, I tried to continue to push us together as we moved farther away. My anxiety escalated, my drinking and my ED. My body, my heart and my mind were screaming this isn't right but because I couldn't make sense of it I couldn't fix it so I pushed on. Until I was too tired to go on.

And now I'm left with the knowledge that I loved someone so hard and they didn't love me the same way. And that fucking blows. And this human isn't a bad person, he just wasn't the person for me AND THAT'S NOT MY FAULT, it's no one's fault. We've said our pieces and while you'd think that's enough to move on it's not. There is no defiant end point to when I have to be ok. I can process this anyway I want to. I can continue to talk it out. I can think I want him back, I can hate him, there is no right way to do this except to listen to my heart, accept my feelings with grace and curiosity. 

But it's interesting to watch me begrudgingly do so, even though I know it's right, I know it's what I want, what I need, my heart still drops into my stomach when our separation is apparent. 

When people breakup everyone always talks about personal growth, more you time. And at first I was like what the fuck does that REALLY mean? But as I type this I see how much I'm already learning about myself, my past and what can be my future. 

  • I need to make the decision to change the storyline I tell myself.
  • Listen to my heart and my head.
  • Not have judgement on my feelings, rather look at them with curiosity because they have something to tell me.
  • It's ok to not be ok and to reach out to friends.
  • It's time I come first (and I always will).
  • I need to take care of and respect my mind, body and soul now more than ever.
  • I deserve to be loved and that includes love from myself.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

I Cried During My Workout, What'd You Do Today?

The gym is empty, it's me and the seniors and the stay-at-home moms. It's lunch time.
I like the quiet because it's so loud in my head.
My anxiety has been debilitating lately.
Constantly spinning, pining, fucking with me.
Behaviors have increased.
I constantly feel like I'm drowning.

Today is chest, triceps and biceps. I started this routine back in the summer. I couldn't curl more than 10lbs and now I'm doing 20s. I never really write about exercise because I am afraid. Afraid of triggering readers, of people saying I wasn't good enough, of people seeing me really as I am: no filter, no angle, no disorder, that since I still use behaviors I couldn't fully own my new body...the list goes on.

But after treatment this last bout I started to lift. A good friend showed me how to do it properly, she got me to go in and keep going in. I liked the power it gave me. I liked seeing results. I liked the exhaustion. My desire to lift is a  different hunger than my ED's need for exercise.

And this afternoon as I stood there in my Seahawks cutoff-that yes I made myself-and I for whatever reason actually look at myself. i see that my shoulders have shape and my arms have definition. I for once feel a connection with my body. I for a fleeting second looked at myself and felt pride. And it's not pride from losing weight, or defying the scale--it's pride because of my hard work. That's me eating. That's me taking the time to treat myself right. That's recovery.

I finish my workout and go to my favorite place in the gym--the classes room. When not in use all the lights are off and the mirrors reflect the light outside. I put on my newest obsession  and I dance. I poke fun at myself, I try to twerk, I do my model walk, I try a new move I've seen online. I feel so authentic, happy and centered. 

And on this particular day I started to do this and the fleeting thought came back, "I look good." Usually I've brushed the idea off, it's uncomfortable and something I don't want to deal with. I stopped what I was doing and tried to stay with the feeling (therapy at its finest). And suddenly the calm curiosity exploded in a million directions. 

I apologized to my body, this deep sorrow I've buried for who knows how long came to the surface and I legit sobbed. I crumbled to my knees and forced myself to look in the mirror. 

I so often do not want to be connected with my body, for reasons I've discussed time and time again. And it was so strange to me that I could feel such emotion for this thing that is right in front of me, that is me and still be so distant from it. I'd like to say that I had some spiritual connection, but I basically just kept crying. When you don't know how to handle your emotions they come out all sorts of ways. 

I looked at my face and my eyes and my lips and I held myself. 

The apologizing stopped and it was like I wasn't doing the talking anymore. It was like there were two of me and one was telling me they get it, like I was forgiven, and I can just be sad now and that's ok. And so I cried and tried to not hold it in, releasing, feeling. And then I felt an anxious excitement, like "Oh shit! I'm getting it! I've got it!" 

And then more sobbing. The end.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

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.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Change is Hard.

I get very anxious whenever I have down time, I don’t know what to do with myself. I tried figuring out what was going on within me when this happened this late afternoon after my ride home from Seattle dropped me off by going on a walk—to the grocery store.
All of my recovery thoughts raced through my head. You only want to binge because you are ____ . Tired, actually hungry, emotional (about what we do not know), avoiding…fill in the blank.

It reminded me that I always resolve to ‘never do it again’ after I do it. Then the voice comes back at me with you don’t give a flying fuck right now.
You need to save for a car and you spent WAY too much this weekend.
Ashamed I say I know and I just don’t want to care (realizing late aka now that I don’t want to care because I want to avoid the shame of ‘failure’ or / and? The feeling of going against my values.
It’s such a waste of time and you always hurt after.  You’ll regret it long after the effects of the binge have worn off.
Clearly it still does something for me like the therapists say so I’m going to do it. It’s too much dealing with all this back and forth shit so, fuck it I’m doing it. This is what I know, I’m a failure, I fail. I’m not better now and I never will be. Just fucking do it. You always do and you always will.
And then I went and did it. And now here I am ashamed and regretful, wishing I had listened to the smaller voice. Feeling a bit defeated. But proud that I am journaling about it instead of further avoiding it.
Then the good ol’ BF calls and says he’s having dinner with a coworker of ours who I haven’t met and that is female. I hear her talking and laughing in the background. My teeth grit and my responses to him are short. I hang up with no I love you.
I feel worse, like that little voice said I would. I regret what I did and now he’s off having fun, making money, being social and I am just alone, sad and wasting money and time. Fuck me.
The binge started because I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t have anyone to call to hang out with and I felt that I had ‘ruined’ the day by being so lazy and tired that I couldn’t be ‘productive’ by going to the gym / fearful that was eating disordered (HA ironic I went to the other side of the spectrum on that didn’t realize that til now) so I can’t start being productive on my to do list of taxes and classes and budgeting. So I did what I know.
And I’m realizing that to change (I know this is on a zillion Pinterest boards) I have to do what I don’t know. I have to not listen to the voices and try something else to get that relaxed feeling, to release.
It also hit me that I am still pretty lonely here. It’s getting better but I do not have that core group or even one person who I can call up and be completely honest with where I’m at and know that they are probably down to Netflix it in sweats and sit in silence and it’s not uncomfortable. In order to change this I need to start going out on limbs and asking my new found acquaintances to do this. I don’t really know what that looks like.
The idea of being that vulnerable with someone scares me, what if they were just too drunk at that party and they really don’t like me ? Why did that one person not try to hang out again after I tried to instigate a friendship? Oh lord. I sound like I’m dating but like friend dating (not weird it works).
So that’s where I’m at. I have texted some of my friends from home and it feels so good to have that connection again and to be pulled out of this, without them even knowing what they are doing for me.

So I’m going to go play with my cat and probably watch a Disney movie, because today isn’t ruined, I didn’t fuck it up, I learned from it and I’m starting stronger than I was before.