Wednesday, November 26, 2014


Wrote while listening to : Jon Bellion, Audra Mae Luxury

describe the indescribable
make sense of this confusion
dry wet eyes
reach out to no one
empty room, it's just me
oh the irony
everyone gone to familiarity
I'm what's left behind
oh, oh what I left behind
my feelings, disconnected
oil and water
these roads have already become repetitive
but I miss the routine
what are you doing?
life goes on without me
don't break
now I've known pain
and I've felt out of place
never knew loneliness like this

Monday, November 24, 2014

Pre Thanksgiving Post

Man all it takes is a good song, some nostalgia and a blank page on here and I'm waterworks.

This season is about different things for different people. Or I should say a lot of things.

There's the reflective part, the thankful part, the stressed the fuck out part, the Black Friday deals part, the family part (might go into the stressed the fuck out part sometimes), the food part and the diet part.

I can't remember a time when I would eat without some kind of emotion attached. As young as 10 I remember the surge of excitement over eating certain kinds of food in large amounts. And I don't remember a Thanksgiving where I haven't thrown up or under eaten. And this isn't dramatic, it's the truth.

When this time of year comes around and as my progression into recovery grows it's interesting to see my reaction to the thought of Thanksgiving dinner.

I will be hosting it along with my boyfriend. We will have 7 other people in our one bedroom apartment. And a shit ton of food.

This could go many ways. I used to start out very determined to make Thanksgiving "ok" to eat. I would workout harder all week and not eat a thing the day of going to the gym before. I would beg my mom to make everything low-fat, low-carb, calorie free please? She never would--and I don't blame her now. I would put as many veggies as I could on my plate to cover up that I was skimping on dinner. Then shamefully sneaking seconds while pretending to clean up the kitchen. Or I would eat. I would eat and eat and eat. And then I would purge.

Two Thanksgivings ago my mom caught me and screamed through the door. I was ruining Thanksgiving.

And as much as I never wanted to do those things, they always seemed to happen. I would get caught up, confused.

But this year I'm working so hard to make it different. I believe I didn't binge or purge last year and I would be so thankful and fucking proud if I didn't do it again. Just the thought of trying to do that with 8 other people in my house is just awful--and of course doing it in the first place is just terrible.

Starting down the recovery path I have chosen to blog instead of go to the gym tonight. I'm addressing my fears. I'm making a plan. I am ignoring what my ED and all you people (not really ALL of you) keep saying.

My coworkers and facebook friends don't know how much a words like "diet, fat, healthy" set me on a tailspin. I am much better but certain times make this harder for me. I hear people in passing talking about how they are going on diets before the holiday just so they can eat more. Wait what? Treatment told me that was bad. I see signs in the gym telling me to come work off the weight after Thanksgiving as though eating a larger meal once isn't ok.

I guess what I'm getting at and what I need for myself, because well sometimes I feel like this blog should be called By Me For Me, is reassurance that I'm doing the right thing. That this is ok. I don't feel very in control or safe not being able to know I won't gain any weight from turkey day.

Hearing all these diet tips tricks and comments constantly around the holidays confuses me. I only worked out for a half an hour today and coming off a weekend of not really eating on a meal plan rather when I was hungry makes me feel very unsafe. Like I can't do that without making up for it later. But instead I'm taking care of myself in other ways, by writing, listening to Zeds Dead, playing with the cat and eating.

I want to reiterate how hard this holiday is for those with eating disorders because of all the stigmas around food and "health" in this diet focused culture AND the stresses of being with family or friends probably triggers a lot of emotions / memories / stresses (just like in a 'normal' human). All of this combined is a very hard place to be with an ED, in recovery or not.

So I'm doing my best to not trigger my ED too bad while listening to a healthy voice. I will workout normally this week, I will eat all my meals and I will eat a Thanksgiving dinner according to my meal plan. And I'm going to check in with you guys about it. So there's the accountability piece that always gets me.

This time of year is about memories and what I want more than anything is to have good memories this holiday.

Saturday, November 22, 2014


This morning I picked a fight with my boyfriend. I am sick, I was tired. I just wanted to fight.
After a stupid back and forth where I just dug myself deeper in things I would have to apologize for later--I apologized.

I know why I get angry, it's things from my past mostly that I haven't fully dealt with mixed with of course frustrations / changes with moving / being human, but I don't know why and how they seem to randomly come up. And I still don't know how to stop the anger until it just blows up.

I hear myself cut people down with words and my tone so vicious. I know I should stop but I don't want to. The anger feels so powerful and good, but then after I feel weak and ashamed. Going through this pattern to get my feelings out and to figure out what I'm really feeling is frustration and loneliness is annoying haha

So then the dude I'm cohabitating with in love with what have you leaves and I'm left alone. I immediately go to the kitchen. I'm not hungry. It's just automatic. I want comfort. I want food.

I fight the urge to binge by cleaning and telling myself to think of the future. It helps to distract myself. Minute by minute the urge lessens.

I look outside and see that the rain has subsided and turned into a rainbow.

Mother Nature showing me that the storm will pass and there's light on the other side. I just have to keep going.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Be Selfish.

My body is pulled back magnetically charged at my heart--or was it my head? Either way I'm back at the car the wind whipping my face--it's not a dramatic scene though tears don't stream my face--I'm too angry--at least I think it's anger. And I stand up for myself.

Our conversation included miscommunicated dirty texts, denied sex, fighting, telling the other one they were the worse one, me screaming at the top of my lungs into the wind.

Cohabitation ladies and gentlemen.

I had no fucking idea.

Suburbia. Vancouver, Washington.

I had no fucking idea.

No friends.

I had no fucking idea.

Moving from Seattle to Vancouver Washington to live with my longtime boyfriend with no friends and starting a new job and no car....I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I had no clue how hard this was going to be. Add onto that a new job--which is amazing mind you--but still new--and I'm one ball...avalanche? of anger. Anger for me signifies power. It makes me feel like I have some kind of control.

FYI I have no control.
I'm just a big bitch.

And that anger is getting in the way of a lot of love and enjoying the choices I've made. Now most of you--well it seems like it--are married some with kids now. And you've probably figured all this out but I'm late to the game and just starting down this road and it's hard.

How can someone I care about so much piss me off so fucking much?

I've thought about this a lot lately and most of it so far comes down to selfishness.

I think he's selfish (not always mind you but let me get my point across) and I think it's about time I am too.

And selfish gets a bad rep but really it has its place.

I want everything to be perfect here in my little home and my relationship because I can't control what goes on in my head or the fact that I have no friends here or that I'm incredibly lonely or that I don't know what road I live off of or where the milk is at the grocery store. I'm so out of my element and so uncomfortable I need something to work, to feel fine, to feel happy to feel perfect. So I put all this pressure on me and my boyfriend's relationship so I can feel OK. And because my expectations are not met. And he does not have mind reading capabilities. I do not feel OK.

So instead of me molding and folding and bending into this person I'm not to try to make this work and then feeling well small,'s time for me to do what I want to do.

It's time for me to put on HGTV. It's time for me to serve myself first. And it's time to be selfish.

I've mostly created this storm on my own, and it only took me three weeks to untangle it, but I'm happy I did.

The other factor is the loneliness. I am too distracted from work to the gym to obsessing over my ED (ya it's kind of back--actively working on that) to realize how insanely lonely I am. How much I miss my friends. How much I miss being able to walk Broadway and see familiar faces however unfriendly they were. How much I miss the water. How much I miss happy hour with my best friends. And knowing where the weights are in the gym. I miss familiarity. I miss my home.

Monday, October 20, 2014

The Big Move Update

Hi kids.
I'm writing this on my lunch.
Every coworker can see that I'm blogging as my desk is in the middle of the office and my monitors are for everyone to see aka no facebooking for at least 3 months until I'm established.

If you're reading this this means you care about my life so I'm going to update you on my move to Vancouver.

Saturday was the longest day ever--because I was up until 6:30 AM Sunday.
I had awesome helpers all morning in Seattle and we got out by 2ish.
Got into Vancouver and walked up to the cutest little apartment / Harry Potter complex and walked into my new apartment.

My jaw dropped. My heart sank.
And my voice raised.

I was pissed.

The place was FILTHY.
Dust on walls, food in the fridge, the toilet was dirty and my mom was cleaning it as we moved in, the lock was taped down bc the door was broken, the blinds fell off the wall when I went to close them and the windows aren't all sealed.

So long story short we moved everything in with the help of boyfriend's friends and my amazing parents.

The place is so bad that we are deciding to find a new place to live.

We're living out of boxes right now and I'm trying to balance starting a new job with the added stress of apartment hunting and I'm getting better.

Work has been amazing. It's so professional here. And nice. Everyone welcoming.

And living with my boyfriend has been good too. It feels of the only things that does in this crazy moving mess.

So there ya go.

Job good--well four hours into it!
Apartment--sucks--working on it.
Friends--everyone is welcoming.
Kitty--adjusting. She slept on my head last night.

Overall I'm learning so much about myself and my relationship with my boyfriend. I'm learning that I shouldn't invalidate my feelings and keep pushing myself to be happy and positive when I don't feel it. I'm not saying dwell but I'm saying just be ok with not being ok. I've also learned that when I'm not ok I need to learn how to take care of myself and how to treat others. AKA not drink too much or snap at my boyfriend when he just asks a question. I'm also learning that I need to work on zooming out...that shitty situations aren't final and there are resolutions. Ah life.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Camel Driver.

I feel really unstable.
Not like I'm going to hurt myself or anything like that.
Just like I'm in a glass case of emotion on a roller coaster unstable.

I keep trying to change my perspective on my stresses and life and then I immediately revert back to my old self--and it's exhausting. On top of my life already being the most stressful it's been in a -- ever.

So here's the dealio.

I have a boyfriend who I love very much, so much in fact I'm moving to Portland from Seattle to be with him. Among other reasons of course. So what that means is that:

  • I told my apartment building manager I'm moving out so by November so I have to getdafuckout by November or else I'm homeless. 
  • We've got an application on a place but we have no idea if we've got it so there's still that what if of do we keep looking? Are we ok? When do I move? When do I start packing? Can I make plans with people?
  • I have an interview at a place next week and who knows if I'll get that
    • If I do that means I have to move sooner
    • so if I don't get said place basically I can't take the job 
  • I could not get the job and still get the place and move in slowly which would be nice.
  • Or we could not get the place or the job and then I'm fucked. 
  • Then I got two letters from unemployment today saying that I committed fraud because they overpaid me by A FUCKING DOLLAR and that I'm doing self-employment (promos...which I was doing in case I DIDN'T get granted unemployment) so I may be ineligible for unemployment and I might have to pay all the money back--with what fucking money? Oh what you gave me? Because that went to rent seeing how I have no job.
I mean one of these is stressful on it's own, apartment hunting, job hunting, moving in with a significant other, fuck just trying to get a hold of unemployment is fucking stressful...but all at once? And the emotional part of leaving all my friends and family behind just when their lives seem to be coming together. I'm still writing for a music blog and then volunteering for a scholarship foundation on top of all this.

OH YEAH and I still have that eating disorder thing that just rears it's ugly fucking head when I'm stressed. So ya I'm battling that too.

I thought this was going to be fun, an adventure and I thought I could handle it but I'm having a really hard time. I had no idea what this was going to be like because well I've never done it.

I had to take a personality test today for this job and it dubbed me the Peacekeeper.

"Neat and orderly, others see Kris as practical. She thrives on consistency and dependability..." Two things I do NOT have in my life right now.

"Reaction to pressure: stubborn, fearful..." Thanks Captain Obvious.

I should "Be more open to change and be more flexible."

So then today on the worst days of days I get slapped in the face with my flaws.


And every time I type something this negative out or try to talk to someone about it I just feel so guilty because I feel like maybe it's not that bad. And I know other people have it worse than me. And I should just shut up. So then I distract myself and bottle it and it gets worse. Oh ya that stupid test told me I need to be more confrontational and not bottle my feelings.

Well I'm unbottling it bitches.

I AM HAVING A HARD TIME. I don't know what the balance is between freaking out and getting to cry and wanting someone to tell me how hard my life is and it's ok that I'm losing it...and also not wanting to live this way.

So I keep reading stupid pins about stress relief and I sit in funny yoga positions all while thinking how unproductive this is and how I should be writing tweets about testicular cancer (volunteer thing).

I wish I had my therapist back to sort this all out with. So she could tell me what's rational, what's selfish, how to move forward.

I know things will work out--but that doesn't make me feel any more safe or in control. I mean they better fucking work out. I just hate not knowing if my application will go through on the place, if I'll get this job, if I'm going to have to pay unemployment back, where I'll be living in 16 days. There is so much unknown and I feel so unsafe and ungrounded.

But thinking about this mess doesn't make it go away. But wallowing in it does make the evil inside me feel better...thinking about all the shit and how "bad" my life is and how I want people to feel sorry for me and how I want everything to just get easy.

The only way it's going to fucking do that is if I change how I think about it.

I mean I've had a roof over my head for this long and haven't gone hungry (except on my own accord -- terrible anorexia joke) so this has to work out.

If I get the place I get it -- if not SOMETHING ELSE will come along that I'm meant to have.
If I get the job I get it -- if not SOMETHING ELSE will come along that I'm meant to do.
If unemployment fucks me I know I didn't do anything intentionally and they have always been really great up until now--just a lot of work for not working--I'll be ok either way.

I guess as I type all of this out I realize that I will be ok. That these questions all have answers, and when I know those answers I can act accordingly.

But until then I really need to change my perspective on what's happening and stay in the present.

"Because I don't live in either my past or my future. I'm interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man....Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we're living right now," says the camel driver to the boy in The Alchemist

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Sliders at 2 AM

It's the typical therapist bullshit-ok no it's not bullshit at all actually it's very true but I'm calling it bullshit because I hate how true it is-I am afraid to feel my feelings so I numb out.

I don't even want to write right now because I am actually scared as to what my eating disorder is going to say and do to me and what I am going to feel. Lately it's been really mean and attacks my legs and butt making me feel incredibly fat and like I need to claw at myself (not hard or in a self-harm way but like grab at them repeatedly). To the point where I can't sit or sleep because I cannot stop thinking about how much weight I've gained and how incredibly wrong that is.

And it's true--I am not over exaggerating--I have gained weight. And well I needed to and even typing this out it makes me feel ashamed that I have done so. In a world that lives off of fad diets and clean eating and stupid pintrest workouts that aren't backed up by anything except a chick in fucking spandex and a tan.

And I realized after a painful, long, very disordered conversation with my boyfriend last night that I cannot bare to gain anymore weight or do anything that resembles going towards fucking up my appearance because I will no longer be liked.

I have had four solid days of not bingeing and purging. And I've been doing it not by my old methods of distraction and overeating vegetables. I have been doing it by journaling daily, asking for help and really trying to figure out why I feel the need to eat more or to hurt myself. It only took me three months out of treatment but I finally figured out I need to tailor my life as though I was still in treatment.

I learned a long time ago--6th grade--from the mean girls that because I was different I was not liked. I was the odd one out and there was nothing I could do or say to make them like me. For whatever reason I was no longer their friend and my life was no longer fun. I awkwardly went through junior high going through things like sexual trauma on top of a dysfunctional household and again the mean girls. I had no where to turn for love and approval but my body.

It clicked that when I was pretty that when I had cool clothes that when I was thin people started to approve of me. And it just picked up from there in high school and then in college I was hooked.

I lost complete sight of who I was as a person. Having an eating disorder causes great lack of self confidence as well as the trauma I've experienced so who I was, what I brought to the table besides a size 4 and long legs was lost on me.

And that is where I get stuck today.

I still do not know who I am and am too damn scared to say things like I am smart, I am a good writer, I am funny, or whatever because I feel that just leaves me up to ridicule, to disappointment, to heartache. And after feeling that for so many years that has become my worst fear.

So when I see a slider at 2 am and I am hungry and I eat it I have just done a huge disfavor to myself. I will get fat. I will lose the only thing that makes me me and I will no longer be loved.

Now I'm told this isn't how the world works but it's all I've ever known and taking a leap of faith that I have more to me than my looks is very scary. And I really can barely even type this post out. Just having the idea in my head is a start and I know I don't want to live life this way--being trapped and not having any real substance to me or not seeing who I am. But I'm just not sure how to do so.

I don't know exactly how to get out of this but I'm trying positive talk and listening to compliments and just trying. But I really am near tears right now and I'm not sure why. It just seems so unreal that I have anything to offer anybody. I can string together compliments about my looks but I can't tell you what traits make me up as a person.

That's where I'm at and I appreciate you listening.