Sunday, December 20, 2015

I Just Lost My Shit.

The past hour was spent fighting off increasingly common, relentless thoughts of inadequacy, self-loathing, and insecurity.

I watch myself in the mirror unaware of both my staring and word vomit. I've got my boyfriend on the phone. The words that have been swirling in my head release themselves like a broken dam. They can't come out fast enough and they are lethal.

He will leave me, I'm sure of it. He's already thought of it. He's sick of me, almost as sick of me as I am. I'm convinced. I display my toxic thoughts out in front of him and myself. Wanting him to cut me, wanting him to hurt me. Just say it I tell him. Just tell me the truth. I know you don't want me anymore. You've come to your senses. Just do it. 

Manipulative, vicious, and cowardly I cut myself down so he cannot do it. 
And I am aware of the little voice screaming in my head..."TELL ME I MATTER."

I find comfort in being able to protect myself in this way. Of course I do not see it when I'm doing it. The feelings are real. I believe with my entirety that I am unworthy, I am insignificant, I am unwanted. 

It is safer to believe this than the alternative.
That maybe he could really, truly love me. 
Because if I give him that power, he could hurt me.
He could cut open the wound that runs deeper than my heart.

He denies my accusations and I quickly try to pick up the pieces. What have I done? I'm just pushing him away. Now you've really fucked up. And the thoughts take hold again. More powerful than before, hungrier than before.
Power. Control. It's all illusive. 

After we hang up I return to reality. Bullshit with friends. The conversation I just had in the back of my mind, buried, safe. He put the Band-Aid on it just like I wanted. 

On my way home my mind wanders, as it does. What I should do, what I didn't do, how badly I did what I did do...

And suddenly I'm caught, snagged like on a hook and pulled into my mind. She's there. And I hear "It's not about him." And something to the effect of:

Watch yourself in suffering. Tell yourself, 'I am suffering right now.' You did not get what you needed as a child. As a little girl, a very little girl. And that love you seek from him, that comfort, that security, he cannot give that to you. This desperate, hunger, manic need for love and reassurance stems from something much deeper, much more powerful than him. Watch yourself in your suffering. 

And so I did. I said "I am suffering right now." And the tears flowed, PUSHED out of me. Gasping for air, I violently go back and forth between the road ahead of me and the past. Struggling to stay present, struggling to breathe, I let myself feel.

I feel the pain of trying to live in an environment that was not safe. Surviving, not living, through my life. I felt the confusion, the sadness, the anger all at once. I grabbed my cuff I was given at FreakNight from one of the purest souls I've ever met off my stick shift. I cling to it, the stars digging into my hand, keeping me here.

Odesza's Light comes on and I am guided to well, the light. With the reminder of the kindness I was shown at FreakNight and the magic of Odesza's music I am reminded of the goodness in the world. I am reminded that there is true love. I am reminded of the unity I feel at festivals and in the music I listen to and the community I have submersed myself in. 

I am reminded that I do not have to be on my guard anymore. I am no longer in danger. I am safe. 

And I listen to Light and I cling to that cuff and I breathe in and out and I hold that little girl that didn't get what she needed. And I hold that 20 something that was destroyed over and over again by the  evil in the world. And I hold myself. I see myself in suffering and I give myself what I have been searching for everywhere else. 

I calm as my car stops. My breathing slows. And I can't really get over what the fuck just happened. The clarity and understanding and peace I look for everywhere else was just given to me, by me. 

Saturday, November 21, 2015

I'm Back Bitch.

I look up through puffy eyes and relieving tears and I laugh.
My cat is staring at me, watching me unravel.
I realize I'm not breathing and I gasp for air.

Then the tears come again.
I cling to my accent pillow (I'm a true grownup because I own one of these) harder, hugging myself.
That's all I wanted was a hug and to be told it's ok. 
I'm ok.
I'm good enough.
I'm pretty.
I'm smart.
I'm talented.
I'm a good person.
And I tirelessly look for these things from other people, things, substances, and actions. 
It's a cycle.
I chase after these things with determination, with willpower, with good intentions and I never find them. 
Not really.
What I find in those things is temporary.
And I wake up today after another night of drinking too much. Too much makeup. Trying too hard. And I feel exhausted, defeated, ashamed.
But as I hug this pillow, and myself I'm reminded that I can and am the only one who can give me what I need.
I needed a hug--I gave myself one.
I held onto myself so tight, flooding my heart with the love and secure feeling I have craved since a kid.
And I just repeat this.
The crying. The forgetting to breathe. The laughter. 
And I violently go between flashbacks and reality.
I cry for her, and I hold her tight.

And I give her exactly what she needed then, as I give it to myself now.
After what seems like forever which is just minutes I am calm.
I am centered.
I am grounded.
I feel that light that I get when I find myself through all the anxiety, depression, bullshit.
And for the first time in months I feel the urge to write.

I have a love hate relationship with this blog. Writing makes me be honest with you all, and well myself. It makes me feel the shame, discomfort, anxiety, sadness, all the feelings and shit like that that I run away from daily. But I'm finding that running doesn't work because it fucking catches up with you in the worst ways.

So I'm trying to get back in the swing of things because, guys I'm learning some good shit in therapy and about my life and I really want to share it with you.

Update on life:

Attempting abstinence (for now) and it's not going so great.
Eating on my meal plan most days and not bingeing or purging or restricting or any of those nasty little habits that come with an eating disorder.
I can curl 25lbs like a boss.
I decided to put up real boundaries with my parents. (for now)
I am doing well at work, and I really love my job.
I am realizing that my actions have consequences.
I am looking at the relationships I put my time into and see why I have that relationship and if it's really a healthy one for me.
I am in the stage where I finally figured out I'm good looking and take too many selfies. Eventually I'll have the confidence to not have to do this to feel good about myself.
I am trying to simplify my life and only do those things that align with my values and my goals (it's fucking hard).
I am pretty much a brunette now.

Monday, October 5, 2015

Going Sober for October: Week One

I started my sobriety on September 28th and lasted until this Saturday. I was sober for five days, and while that's not a month it IS the best I've done in months.

I'm going--well as always--to be very honest about my experience in hopes that not hiding my struggles and successes help those of you who are trying to lessen your drinking habits (or anything else too). You're not feel alone in your thoughts, feelings, and struggles -- or successes!

The past five days weren't easy. I was surprised that I actually craved beer. And more often than I'd like I would have the thought to go get a six pack or to go to HH. I was especially triggered by bars, which I tried as much as I could to avoid but hey I'm young it's not that easy.

Having other plans in place, reading my goals list, and working with my support system helped. It's important to note that I didn't just write down my goal but I wrote down WHY I have that goal.

On Saturday night when I chose to drink I made an ass out of myself. I was emotional, too drunk, and spent too much money. I thought after 5 days I'd be able to drink moderately but I drank more than I usually do! I think it's the can't have it mentality that didn't work in my favor.

Even though I wish I hadn't drank, I'm happy I did because everything that I wanted to stop drinking for happened. A nice, refreshing, expensive, embarrassing reminder as to why I need to work on this--and for a while.

So the next day I woke up ashamed, feeling sorry for myself, depressed (with no hangover thank God and well water). I went to lunch with the boy and saw full beers on happy hour all around me. Well I already fucked this up I thought, I'll start clean Monday.

After pleading with him, trying to talk out the craving with him, and listening to him remind me why I want to stop in the first place I left the bar reluctantly without having a drink.

I'm so happy I did.

Summary of what I learned:

  1. New habits don't happen in 5 days. 
  2. New habits don't come easily.
  3. New habits happen with work, dedication, and perseverance.
  4. Drinking doesn't necessarily make me less socially awkward.
  5. Writing down your why for goals is so important.
  6. You can restart your goals at any point and time. You don't need a new day, a new month, a special day of the week...if you just ate a donut and you're on a diet that doesn't mean you can just go balls to the wall with junk food the rest of the day--you can make the decision to walk at lunch and eat the lunch you planned for yourself when you weren't in such a discouraged mindset. 
  7. Do what will make you feel better in the future. Not in the moment.

To start your Sober October read last week's post. It covers how to approach a month sober with enthusiasm, determination, and realistic goals AKA in a way you can actually fucking do it.

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Going Sober For October

Oh heavens.
Just typing this post makes me anxious.

Fear of judgement and failure--and judgement if I fail rises in my stomach.
But having people to help hold me accountable and to support me is key to my success.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • hiking
  • crafts
  • improving my portfolio
  • modeling
  • dancing
  • writing for shows
  • cooking
  • lifting
  • shopping / creating outfits
  • reading
These things are now what you do instead of drink. You HAVE to pick things you really enjoy doing (if you want to run but hate it--don't do that--do something you'll enjoy).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My list for not drinking is:

  • reduce mood swings and anxiety
  • increase sleep
  • reduce spending to save
  • physical fitness (who wants to go to the gym hungover?)
  • my job (showing up on time is a thing I heard)
  • my friends (not being able to be present or there for them is something I've come across too many times)
  • my relationship (being a new one I cannot grow false connections with him early on)
So while it's called "Sober October" I'm starting well yesterday. Having a goal that's only a month seems more attainable than to never drink ever again in my life. 

One day at a time people.

Cheers! ;)

Tuesday, September 22, 2015


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.

Friday, August 21, 2015

Read Me

I'm amazed as to how long I've been writing.
I was forced to start this for my COM 101 class in 2008.
I think I wrote about food--(smirks, no surprise there).

It--somehow and you know what I'm not sure what made me want to start writing so openly on here--turned into a place where I shared my exploration in recovery. It turned into my best friend. Ya best friend. This simple little blog has always been there for me to pour my heart out to. To help me understand myself. My thoughts so plainly in black and white for me to read. See I like to talk but I don't like to listen--it's interesting when you listen to yourself. What are you really saying?

What I'm getting at is tonight I want to write about my night. I want to write about the fact that I had the guts and confidence to approach my favorite band after seeing them live. That I only had two drinks. That I didn't binge or purge tonight. That I felt like myself with people I used to put a front on for.

But when I write all of this and I start crying and laughing like a psycho at the same time because I don't know what to do with all of this emotion, I realize what I'm really writing is: I feel at home. At home in Vancouver (shudders) yes but mostly I feel at home with myself.

I'm constantly looking for belonging. I'm looking for acceptance. I want love. I want to be wanted. I want to be appreciated. I want to feel like someone. And with a lot of practice, tears, anger, drinking, eating disordering (totally a thing), money, therapy, and years of work I feel at home with myself.
There is no rush, there is no desperate pining for more: more love, more attention, more acceptance, more fucking food. I am. I just fucking am.

Letting go is something I've written about in here hundreds of time, with anger. If I could fucking let go I would. How do you let go? Those words vigorously typed out here while I succumb to tears. But that's exactly what I am finally fucking doing. I am living in the moment, I am changing my perspective, I am just here to enjoy my life.

Depressed me would want to punch me right now.
Easier said than done, but easy never got me anywhere.

I write in here about some very dark things, and some powerful emotions--and happiness, security, authenticity are among those powerful emotions.

The more I work to accept who I am, remove those things that don't align with who I want to be, the easier my life is getting.

I titled this "Read Me" because I will every so often comb my posts, the ones you read the most (that Face of Bulimia one pretty much kills it) and I ache for the girl that poured her heart out to an unknown audience hoping for some kind of acceptance.

And girl, I'm here to tell you, and remind you, that you can give yourself that acceptance.

Monday, August 17, 2015

I Figured Out What's Wrong With Me

Recently, I've been told more often than not by you all how much you appreciate my blog.
It means the world to me that you read and call me things like "brave" and "inspiring." Your comments are what keep me writing. It feels good to know that I'm heard, and perceived in the manner in which I intend: honest, flawed, hopeful, real.

I haven't written in a while because I have not felt I have anything useful to say. There is no epiphany, no morale of the story, no insane amount of feelings that needs to be purged onto the page.
And more often than not, I am having a hard time making sense of my feelings.

It's like when I am asked, "how are you?" I cannot answer. There's a blockage. I think back to therapy, when the tears and words flow so easily. I try to do the same in the comfort of my own room, the privacy of my desk, my car. And I just spin. I cannot connect. I get frustrated.

And I think it's because I do not actually want to feel what I feel. My mind is protecting me from feeling that deep, dark, loneliness that has haunted me since I was 12. I do it subconsciously, I do it routinely, I do it well.

I want everything to work out, I want to know what is going on, I want to have a path to follow. But every time I try to force my life down this path that I THINK I should be on, I get this stuck feeling in my mind. I want to avoid the feelings of anger, of dislike, of hurt because these feelings are telling me that what I'm pursuing isn't right for me. Isn't going to work. And that means I don't know what the fuck I'm doing anymore. That goal, that life, is not going to work for me and now I'm left with the unknown. And that is scary.

So I push myself down this path, invalidating who I am, ignoring my heart, the universe and it's signs in order to have some sense of safety. Some sense of worth. And yet the more I do these things, the more I feel less secure, and  like shit about myself.

I am reminded of this, "What you want and what you need are two different things." I need to get out of my own way and let it happen.

I have been listening to a lot of motivational speeches throughout the past month and something that stuck out to me was: in order to obtain your goals, you have to focus on the WHY not the WHAT. So why do you want a million dollars? That reason, the why, is what gets you up in the morning, the why has to be greater than all your excuses you have in your head.

And I've been realizing that I don't really have a goal, and I most certainly don't have a why. So I think that's why I'm so stuck. Why I make the same mistakes. Why I care so much about what other people think. Why I feel stuck. Because I have not found anything that drove me to want to do better and be better than my relationship. And now that that's over, I'm just idling. And I am ashamed that I don't have a self-righteous path. I guess it's because I don't see my worth. I can live for others, but I can't yet figure out how to live for myself.

I love the idea of being an independent woman. Of knowing who I am, what I want, being driven, passionate, dedicated, confident etc. but there, for whatever reason, is nothing driving anywhere. Nothing pulling at me. No passion. No goal. I just don't really care right now and I'm not sure how to find what that one thing is.

Thank you again to everyone who tells me they appreciate this. You are the reason I wrote today. And this helped to sort my thoughts, and also gave me a small sense of purpose, which I guess is what I'm looking for.