Tuesday, December 2, 2014

RIP Natalie Jane

I got the call around 3 today.
It was a headhunter.
Oh I can't wait to tell them I have a sick ass job I thought, that'll shock em.

But actually, it was me who was shocked.

They were calling to tell me that our mutual friend had passed away on Friday night, with complications from depression. She wanted to make sure I knew.

Awkward, sad, lighthearted conversation followed with plans for a memorial. And we hung up.

I went through the movements. Grabbed my coat, my phone, my key card, made polite small talk with a co worker and left the office. I burst into tears not even sure if I had really thought through what was going on. Not feeling genuine. Feeling impulsive.

I encountered every interaction I had with her to my boyfriend. Telling him about her curly hair she had shaved off recently. Her kindness towards me at work. The goodbye post-it she was forced to leave me two years ago as the company didn't tell her it was her last day until it was her last day.

I didn't feel better. I didn't feel calm. I didn't feel how I felt I was supposed to.

I called everyone I trusted to talk to about this and no one was answering, as I walked through the cemetery next to my office.

I expected I was supposed to be alone with my feelings, with the uncomfortability of not having them, not knowing them. And as I walked past the graves and I felt the cold sting my nose and blinked the sun out of my eyes and I gave myself permission to feel uncomfortable.

I thought of her. Not just what I wanted to remember but what I remembered. I remembered thinking when I first met her how she was kind of dull, her crazy curls should have been straightened and I bet I was a better writer than her.

And then one day she came out of no where with a kind of kindness, a light and a vibe that was overwhelmingly warm, comforting. My hardness cracked and I met Natalie.


We did the standard new acquaintance thing.  We liked each other's statuses and instagram photos.

We ran into each other in the bus tunnel. Once again me attempting to avoid what could be an awkward conversation and her jumping right in with a huge smile and now short, straight hair. Five minutes later me racing to catch my bus as I had almost missed it I was so into the conversation. Feeling warm inside, feeling just calm, confident, happy.

One day when I was in treatment she wrote me about this blog. And she sympathized. She made me feel less alone. We talked and traded stories.

Later, she invited me to her church and out to eat. She accepted me, as I was. She understood.

I read over our messages and I almost bailed on her because I had binged and purged the night before and felt awful. Now my heart pings with shame. But I went and I remember I didn't like church but I liked the food, I liked the company and we met again at some point.

I feel like I have talked to her since and kept up with her on social media but that's not really 'keeping up' with someone. I didn't know she was hurting. She reached out to me when I was in a time of need, and while I'm not saying I could have prevented this...I want to say something along the lines of how important I believe being authentic and transparent is.

Acceptance and authenticity are values of mine, they are why I write. It is why I will be honest to your face about whatever I'm going through. It is why I want you to message me, comment, talk to me. If it weren't for her reaching out that one day after reading my blog I might have never gotten to know her. I might not have learned my lesson to not judge a book by its cover. I might not have learned how far a nice conversation can go.

I can't really get profound or give advice because I don't understand life or how this works but I do know that it's hard. Life is hard. It is not what is put out there for all of us to see from movies, tv ads, pintrest and facebook statuses. Life is difficult. It's wonderful and not all bad but it frustrates me and motivates me to write even more because I don't believe what we really go through is talked about or out there.

So I will keep being honest with you all. I will tell you how fucking lonely I am here. How I went inside my shell yesterday and didn't talk to anyone and I was miserable. And then today I said fuck it and tried to make friends and it sort of worked. That I left my headphones at home and that sucked. That I avoided all eye contact with my boss today our of fear that he saw my typo in my email and I would be judged. That I'm wearing all Christmas stuff minus my yoga pants that I did weird squats in to stretch them out for like a minute. That I forgot to text a friend back for a full day who asked for my help. That I wear the same outfit when I get home every night. And I totally took tissues from work.

I will basically try to be as me as possible in here so hopefully you can relate, feel more comfortable with what's going on in your head and feel like you have an outlet for it.

She gave me an outlet and hope and I will not forget that. I will miss her happiness posts on Facebook and the gazillion pictures of her dogs, I will probably unwillingly look for her every time I am in Westlake's tunnel and as I pass Microsoft. But mostly I will think of her when I choose to act on the lessons she unknowingly taught me.

RIP Natalie. You are missed but not forgotten.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Homesick.

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
distant
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
singular
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

RoyGBiv


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,..it'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 right...one 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 I'VE JUST FUCKING HAD IT.

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