When peace like a river...

Usually I dislike Sundays…not the day themselves but the feeling that is associated with it.

The dreadful feeling that the weekend is over and it is back to reality. The calm before the Monday.

This semester, Sunday’s have been especially rough, usually punctuated  by having to drive back from my hometown in Coeur d Alene where I spent the majority of my weekends with my second family (sometimes my first, too) to the dirty Scow. I just drag my feet… a lot… on Sundays. On the seventh day, God rested. Well, I just bitch and moan. :/

Today was different. This Sunday I don’t have that retched feeling in my gut. This week is my last week on undergraduate classes. In two weeks, I will be graduated. It seems like yesterday my second mom, Julie, was hugging me as I complained (like I usually do) about having to go back for my last semester at school.

“It will go so fast,” she said! “Soon you will be done!”

She was right. The time HAS flown past. It has also crawled ridiculously slowly. It has been out of control crazy busy. It’s also been a slow, painful crawl to the finish line. And today, after a crazy Friday and Saturday, I took some self-care me time and biked to Washington, I ride that I have done often. But this time, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace, one I don’t feel often. I can probably count on one hand how many ‘peaceful’ moments I have had throughout this Senior year. This afternoon was one of them.

While I have learned a lot about psychology, theories, scholastic facts etc. at school, I feel the most important thing I have learned here at the U of I was about myself. How I handle stress (not gracefully) relationships (ugh..I suck) and just LIFE (well…I am still figuring it out.) A degree doesn’t prove how smart you are, how ready you are in the real world, how established you are in your life…well at least for me it doesn’t. This degree signified fight. Determination. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears. But it also was underlined in surrender. To a greater idea that I didn’t have any insight on. Faith. And I am NOT good with not being ‘in the know,’ so there was a lot of second guessing, panic, and unease. There still will be. That’s life. However, all I have is today, and I just keep trying to make the most of each minute I am given.

This weekend began with “Artibility” an event put on by adults with learning disabilities who were given the chance to be funded by a grant through the university to let out their creativity through sculpture, painting, drawing etc. They had been working on their creations all semester, and the end result was marvelous. Though it may have seemed like a hodge podge of color and lines and mess, it was beauty to everyone who witnessed the end product. Especially the Creator themselves.

Friday night I was kidnapped by my roomie and her boyfriend to go see Avengers. Which was sold out. SO then we tooled around WSU and saw little baby bears and awesome cars and listened to “Animal” by Maroon 5 and laughed our guts out. Then I got to listen to Jazz music and sip wine with my amazing friend Lisa who has gotten me through so much of this past Senior year. God knew exactly what I needed when He put us in the same class togetherJ

Saturday I strolled around the arboretum, meandered the Farmer’s Market and tried on silly clothes with my friend David, hit the Renaissance fair, and then day drank at the Brew Fest (the best!) where I ran into two people I adore, Sarah and Hannah. Sarah can make me laugh like none other, no matter how much time has passed since we’ve seen one another. Hannah brought me to tears in the best possible way.

Got to watch some of the boxing fight with good ole Zack and then dinner and karaoke with my girl Kelsey. Slept in this morning, watched the beautiful Kelsey in her dance recital, did some chores around the apartment, and then took myself on a long bike ride in the sun.

Usually my head swarms with negative thoughts about myself, especially my body. But today, in shorts and a tank top, I just rode. Just me and music and the Palouse. And when my head is finally silent, God reminds me that I am not a failure, that He has a plan, and that all is well. To be calm. And to trust Him.

When I got back, I called my grandparents who I never talk to enough. And because of who I am, I expect to be reprimanded for not calling more often, yelled at for not checking in. You know what they say…every time?

‘WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU!!!’

I never heard this growing up. Hearing it now brings me to my knees. What an amazing example of unconditional love. No matter how long we go without talking, they never fail to just shower me with their love and support. And I could not be more grateful.

That is what is in my heart today, after an incredible weekend. Gratitude. No, I am not a size two. I am far from OK with my body. However, I had the energy to run around all weekend, the ability to hug those I haven’t seen in forever and truly enjoy myself. Yeah it’s uncomfortable. It is hard as hell. But it’s worth it. Life is amazing if you allow yourself to stop and enjoy it. I am so glad for those moments that God has let me experience, days like today and this past weekend. And I am so grateful for those of you who have been such supports to me on my journey and who I know will continue to do so as I head into the next stage of my career and life.  I cannot thank you enough for that. Some may look down on social media, say it is a waste of time. Sure it probably is. I spend way too much time on it. But it also gives me the opportunity to access and stay in touch with the people I adore in life. No matter how far away we are or how long we have gone without talking.

As I think about leaving Moscow, I get really sad. Which is crazy because it is such a little shit hole! But I LOVE this little shit hole and it has a piece of my heart. The only thing I ever wanted, my only goal in coming to school here, was to grow and to touch people’s lives. I hope that when I leave after my four years here that I can say that my smile may have brightened someone’s day. I know everyone I have met here has done that for me and made this rough road a little easier~

Here’s the last week of this semester, the end of my undergraduate studies! May it fly by for all of us! J

****Win****

.

Arizona sunsets

I didn’t think I would graduate college. I didn’t think I would live to see my friends all begin to get engaged, marry, have babies, begin their lives. I thought mine would be done. Ended. That is what I had hoped for. I had given up on myself. I didn’t want to live in the hell I was stuck in.

When I went to Rosewood Center for Eating Disorders for the first, second, third time- there was a sense of peace there I had never felt before. And as I slowly began to refeed and nourish my body, I also reformed my thoughts and emotions. I found my laughter again.

I am now seventeen days away from graduating with my degree in psychology from the University of Idaho. I have been striving for “recovery” for two years. Recovery. It is far from perfect, because I am NOT perfect. But in the imperfect, there is learning opportunities, healing, and advancement. Today I choose life. And today I was given the opportunity to interview with the very place that saved my life. This time they were not asking me about what condition my health was in, how badly I had plummeted again, but rather my strengths, what I can offer to their group of employees.

After, I asked what it was like for the head of HR to switch from his role in chemical dependency to an eating disorder facility. His answer~

“I didn’t know eating disorders were a large issue. When I began at rosewood, my first week I experienced malnourished individuals coming in like zombies. Blank stares and that walk of weakness. Defeat. But then you watch them come alive again through restoration and refeeding. It is beautiful, the process of finding themselves.”

I literally had goosebumps cover all of me as he finished. After the phone interview, I hung up and sobbed. Partially out of relief, mostly out of gratitude.

Yes, today I was accepted to work at Rosewood Rach for the summer of 2015 until I start my GRADUATE degree in the fall.

I wish I could pinpoint exactly what I am feeling right now…but honestly there are too emotions to choose just one. Sadness in leaving the family and friends I have here in Idaho, gratitude, shock, excitement, anxiety, fear, some guilt and unsureness. I don’t know what God has in store for me, but I do know that I am eager to find out what His crazy plan is. For my life definitely has not turned out as I had planned. But then again, maybe that is a good thing. Who knows where I would be if it has been my will and not His.

Here is to a new adventure, as the story unfolds and the pages keep turning.

W~

 

 

The semester from hell~

So much has happened in the last few months of this semester. I went from planning my life with someone, looking forward to not only the future, but OUR future. Knowing every day I would be in the arms of the one I loved…to having my heart shattered in a way I never thought possible. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like that…Like every breathe I took in filled my lungs with charring coals. My one true love…the love of writing, I couldn’t even make words express the sheer raw emotion I was feeling. I still don’t know if I can. Every time I saw the same model of car you drove, I became physically ill. The pictures on my phone of us that popped up at the worst times, even when I thought I had deleted them all. The little boy that looks identical to you when you were small…the one I work with…EVERY day…the very one I had to lay beside, rub his back till he fell asleep…the same way I did for you. No more arms to hold me at night, no voice in the morning saying good morning. No more.

I thought I had lost myself. I didn’t want to live anymore if everything in my life reminded me of what once and never would be any longer. I tried. I tried to starve it away…run it away…drink it away. But my damn mind, it kept following me. Because the problem was ME. Not you. Sure YOU left…but I was still left with all the voices in my head making up all these reasons as to why you did.

“I’m not enough of this…too much of that…” Until I realized I would end up killing myself coming up with all these reasons to fill in the unknowns, the vast crevice of God knows what. Obviously I am far from perfect. A relationship is a two way deal. I own what I own. And for that I am sorry. I did the best with what I knew. I don’t know how to let someone love something I hate…myself. Well, it is time I find out.

I don’t know where the turning point was…I don’t think there was one. Cause as people kept telling me…It just took time. I am one impatient woman…so it was tortuous. But with every day that rose, I made a choice, to believe that things happen for a reason. That no matter how hurt I was, I had to move forward. So now I thank you. I thank you for the time we had together. I don’t regret a thing I did. I don’t believe in living with regrets. I acquired the strength I needed to overcome the memory of you, the distant memory you have become. I felt the rain on my face and the sun on my skin all at once, like an endless wave of emotion rushing over me. I know now I am stronger than I realize because of this. So thank you.

And thank you to all those who literally pulled me through. This semester has been horrible to say the least. Yet there have been some amazing moments throughout.

For the first time in my life, as I traveled back to Rosewood in Arizona to share my experience and hope in Recovery, I was exactly where I needed to be. Being able to be there for someone else who is walking through the same journey of anorexia and hold them as they fought was a gift I was given and completely irreplaceable. This is my purpose, why I am alive.

I struggle every day. But having those memories of those patients faces, of the alumni, the staff surrounding me as I shared my story, reminded me of what I have been through. Hell. And how God pulled me through that because through Him all things are possible. He most certainly will help me get through this semester. Through school. Through endless heartbreak. Tormenting nightmares. Moments I feel I can’t go on. The epic fear of the future, the fear of being rejected and utter failure.

Until I remember. There is no such thing as failure. Only learning experiences. No matter where you are at in life, it can be used for good. You are never too far off the beaten path to find your way back onto the trail leading you on your journey. Never end points, just maybe a detour here or there.

 I sure don’t know what on earth is planned for my life. I think God is hilarious…because He knew the biggest challenge for me is letting go of control…and daily He puts that control in a blender, annihilates it, hands it back to with a smirk on His face, Grace cloaking His voice, and love in His eyes and He asks me for the thousandth time:

“Are you done now? Will you trust me?”

 My earthly father looked at me just this past weekend and said words I never thought I would hear from his mouth, “I am so proud of you, of the woman you have become. I know God has an amazing plan for you.”

I don’t know what that plan is…but day by day I get up and with His strength only, onward I go.

Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.

Romans 8:38: But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Summer 2014

     So...summer break has come and gone. Parents are giddily getting their children supplied with new crayons and fresh notebooks, eagerly anticipating when they can ship their little hooligans off to school. I remember this time of year fondly, back when I worked at Target, and had to put away the MASS amounts of clothing children would try on. Moms would stroll up with shopping carts full of clothes for her daughter or son, then spend hours trying them on, only deciding to buy a few select items leaving me with a pile full of rumpled up clothing I had to disentangle and put away. Now, as I sit reflecting on my '14 summer, I cannot help but feel totally gipped. I had all these plans. Plans to get a rocking tan, go on long camping trips and arduous hikes, study diligently for my GRE, vacation to Oregon, write a book, create world peace, save third world countries, fight the multiplying forest fires, end world hunger and stop all these silly ‘water bucket’ challenges. Needless to say, I didn’t accomplish much on my summer ‘to do’ list. :/ As classes near and my heart races as I think about the upcoming essays, and tests, long hours studying in the library with way too much caffeine dripping through my veins, I don’t know whether to be mad, sad, angry…or just super anxious like I am now…SO instead of dwelling on the things I DIDN’T do, I am going to be positive and thankful for all the things I did get to do! Thus, here is the run down...my compilation of Winter’s summer 2014 shenanigans list:

·         I went to Silverwood for the first time! First roller coaster! Screamed my head off…I have never seen my friends laugh that hard…J

·         Got to be in my first wedding and see my beautiful friend who I cherish so much, Crystal Beavers, get married to her AWESOMELY hilarious husband Patrick in Seattle where I had my 1^st ever shot of tequila!!! J

·         Attended my friend’s bday party as his ‘special guest of honor’ which was too cute and had some of the craziest cake-shaped like a ’14 hands’ wine bottle! OH and learned how to two-step country dance with Crystal, taught by some old dude at the bar we were at! :) I don’t think I have ever had the hick-ups that badly though…:/ #tequila, white Russian, white wine, champagne, beer, shots…TOO MUCH MIXING

·         Applied for nearly a million jobs throughout CDA- ranging from secretary to overseeing the parasail station at the lake! (I actually got the parasailing job…but turned it down!) BECAUSE I got a job at Scratch restaurant as a server/hostess where I was blessed to work at this summer! Catering for weddings, wine tastings, special dinners- It was an awesome experience! Discovered white wine…#1^st time…and brie cheese. Holy batman. I now can now add opening bottles of wine to my skill list…Met some awesome people, and some definite CRANKY people…lol but it was rad and I can’t wait to see them again at Christmas breakJ

·         Set some boundaries with people in my life I needed to. Took care of my health and wellbeing when my initial housing plan didn’t work out. Made grown up decisions. YAY ME

·         Healed up from a nasty hip/leg injury and now can run again! pain free!

·         Went swimming…mmm…maybe four times:/

·         Orange is the New Black

·         Read nothing but status updates on facebook...and fortunes from panda express.

·         Listened to Pandora religiously

·         Missed all the fireworks on fourth of July cause I fell asleep (AKA passed out:/ LOL)

·         Snap chat for two weeks and then forgot I had it.

·         Got to go on someone’s 21 run J

·         Lived off ice cream…like every night…:/ Seriously…Cold stone knew us by heart…#regulars

·         Oh and peanut butter…#fordayz

·         And blended chais and mocha frappachinos. Discovered Mexican mocha fraps and Calypsos…mmmmmtastymmmmm #somuchforeatingmygreensallsummer #oops #sorrynotsorry

·         Used way too many hashtags…

·         My bike got stolen…and then two days later I found it! THANKSGOD!

·         Home brewed beer at someone’s GORGEOUS house. It took six hours. Six. Long. Hours. :/

·         KROC CENTER WAS MY SECOND HOME…besides work

·         Makeup? Nope. Sweats? ALWAYS. And skirts/dresses when sweats were completely out of the question.

·         Befriended the old lady next door…

·         Bought gas twice…grocery shopped 3 times, and didn’t try ANY clothes on…EVER. SCORE.

·         Worked Car d Alene, Ironman, fourth of July, and Art on the Green. Got to see the first Ironman finisher of 2014! AMAZING!

·         Got to see my two amazing friends, Erin and Zach, become Mr. and Mrs. Davis! Quite possibly the cutest wedding #EVER

·         Movies were my solace at the end of a long day when all my words were used up and I could only communicate with Jeremy in grunts…

·         Which leads me to the bestest part of my summer? Getting to see my best friend/boyfriend/love every day…Jeremy. HE put up with me when I started my new job and literally didn’t know how to function for 2 weeks. He fed me coffee and ice cream whenever I needed. And when I didn’t need it. Quizzed me on my GRE terms. Gym partner. Movie date. Drove all the way to Seattle and got HORRIBLY lost just to come see me in the wedding I was in. Bought me Red’s hard cider and mango margaritas. Late night Panda Express runs. 5AM mornings when we were literally incoherent. Back rubs…where lots of puppies died :/ Night time swims in the lake when it was just too bloody hot to sleep. Tickle fights. Cold Spaghettios. Endless giggling at inappropriate Facebook memes. Not judging me for air drying ALL my clothes. Putting up with me fawning over every baby I laid eyes on. SLUG BUG champ. The word ‘ratchet’ being used by me way more times than ever necessary. His poor roommate walking in on me peeing. Sorry Andy…so sorry. Water fights. Not punching me in the face…or running away when things got hard. Letting me be me…with all my weirdness…and being so immensely patient.

 

Overall, though my summer may not have gone how I planned it in my head, it went just as God had wanted it. And that is good enough for meJ Here’s to an amazing summer…to a summer in recovery…with many more to come…to the next phase of my life.

#BRINGITSENIORYEAR

Turn down for what?

ü  Just eat something…

ü  This is all in your head…

ü  You look fine.

ü  You are so skinny! How do you do it?!

ü  If you were a stronger Christian/person, you could just stop doing this.

I have heard it all…

The one I got just recently…”You could never tell you were sick!”

This statement was one of the hardest to swallow…though all are hard for someone with an ED to hear. Just because you don’t look like a skeleton MUST mean you don’t struggle…Just because your weight isn’t exceptionally low obviously means you have it all put together internally, mentally, emotionally. The reality could not be further from the truth. Nothing was more disheartening to me than when I was in treatment for anorexia and a mentally incapacitated person would finally walk through the door in desperate need of help, seeking, begging, searching. And then maybe…after three days, once their weight had “stabilized”, they were booted because some all-knowing insurance companies deemed them medically stable. It makes me so angry.

Why did I deserve treatment and they didn’t based on such a minute marker as a number? Such insignificance. Yet still, in my daily life, I am dictated by numbers. My mood, how much I eat, how long I work out, competing with another woman at the gym based on their outsides, comparing what I eat to the finicky women ordering her dressing on the side. Hold this. None of that. It is everywhere. Everywhere I turn there is some ad for this new fast weight loss product or this new diet trend. Don’t eat this or that. Well hell! I mine as well not eat anything then! That is where my head goes. And lately, my head has been very loud. Calculating. Correcting. Cramming. What I need to do in order to burn it off before I even put the nutrients to my mouth or taste its essence on my lips. LIFE. No longer can look at food as calories, read a label, count carbs. No. Food has to be my medicine. The fuel that drives my body. The electricity that powers my brain. I feel like a very tired fish...swimming upstream, fighting against an ocean of people obsessed with outward appearances. Training for this, swearing off that. Cause if we breathe in too much air now, we will get fat. Where is the logic in that? Tell me, when will it end? When will we think more about what is in our hearts than our plates? Or check our attitudes out rather than body checking in the mirror, calorie counting on our phones, or BMI calculating online? When will we worry more about how much time we spent loving on others than how long we were at the gym for? The amount of compassion we have rather than the size of our backside, thighs, or hip to waist ratio? When will we tune up our outlook on life rather than focusing on solely toning our biceps? Go to church one day…compared to the gym multiple times in a week. Unfortunately, my carnal nature and automatic response is to give it to my body rather than give it to God. To focus on ALL OF THE ABOVE. I feel like I am fighting a losing battle…I fight society and its norms…but mostly I fight myself and my own expectations. And frankly, I am getting tired of fighting. I am letting go. Of numbers, sizes, scales, calories, fat grams, jeans and anything without an elastic waist line, diet plans, structured and rigid meal plans, hours spent with no sleep-empty-alone in quietness I create for myself. Controlled chaos may have been my best friend and loyal lover, but I can no longer seek the approval of those whose opinions will mean nothing in the end. I must fight for those who never had the chance to find their peace, their freedom. ED is a deceptive bastard. This disease is cunning, baffling, and powerful. Just this year, we have lost too many souls to this darkness. Days ago we lost our beloved Robin Williams to depression and addiction. It is all the same-just with a different face. It will consume you. Death is the end result. Or a sad, sick, empty life dedicated to futile efforts of perfection, escape from a reality that is always waiting for you, a cold hard loss. Do not fool yourself into thinking the fleeting pursuit of thinness will result in anything less. It didn’t for those I have lost. And for those in the midst of the battle, I see the same death I saw in my eyes at my worst.

So, just for today- I will forgive myself. Shove my inner critic in the corner, stifle the thoughts that scream I am not worth it, not good enough, or will never amount to anything. I will listen to that one voice that whispers quietly…yet audibly. The voice of health, life, recovery. It is not easy, but it was never promised to us that it would be. “But by the grace of God, there go I.” And as I head back to school in slightly over a week, (Good lord in heaven…:/) I pray that I am overcome by His passion, energy, zeal- to finish this last year of school strong. To take care of myself. To be patient. Positive. Prayer filled. Because on my own strength, I will fail. It takes a village. Because I am one giant mess. But I am His mess. And luckily for me, I find things better within the clutter anyways;)

I know I cannot do this alone. So. I am asking for check ins- texts, phone calls, even letters would be fantastic! However, prayers…prayers are a must. I need them like I need oxygen…and yes. Food.

Thank youJ

Winter Grace

Mealplan

A very dear friend of mine and I were texting to one another the other day...she asked if I would care for a blog post written by her. As a fellow ED survivor and addict, I was more than thrilled to hear her thoughts. What I received was astoundingly painful to read for me. Not only because she is my gumba, my good friend, my strong shoulder. But also because it infuriates me the power of this disease. And how some think it is nothing but a striving to 'look good.' Just last summer, I had an acquaintance email me asking me how I started my "disease."
She just wanted to lose some weight...drop a couple of pounds...shed some winter weight. My friends...this amounts to nothing in comparison with an eating disorder. Whatever spectrum you are on throughout the ED scale, it will only end one way. Death.
This post is dedicated to the further education and awareness of what ED really is like. Cheers~

“Dude, if you make a meal plan, the one you follow, I promise to stick to it to a tee so that I can have a body that is remotely close to as perfect as yours” This was the 2nd text message I got this week along those lines. Me? Make a meal plan? Well, I am a pretty decent nutritionist and extraordinarily knowledgeable about the science behind food. Therefore, I am more than capable of making a successful meal plan. However, my friends asked me for MY meal plan. The truth is, yesterday I ate 2 bites of a pb and j so I didn't pass out again this week. the day before that I had a side kale salad from a vegan bar. Today is Sunday. Those were the two solid "meals" that I’ve had in the past 7 days. The truth is, I’m more than happy that my friends don't “understand” how I "do it". The truth is, "how I do it" is by depriving my body of the vital nutrients that it needs to survive. The truth is, I have the heart of an 80 year old. I have virtually no stomach lining. I have ulcerative colitis and well as chronic bleeding ulcers. I used to have Mallory Weiss tears that have scarred my esophagus, a growth on my vocal chords and have permanently affected my voice. I have Osteopenia, which is the stage before Osteoporosis. I get pneumonia or bronchitis every year because I have no immune system and horrible kidneys. The truth is my medical problems and health is much more than I listed above. The truth is that the average 23 year old does doesn't face a fraction of what I listed above. The truth is while I was texting my friend last night about how I was loving life, the sunshine, teaching yoga and my blossoming art company, I was simultaneously carving the word tainted into my inner thigh with a razor. Sober. The truth is, that merely knowing why I do what I do doesn’t change my powerful disconnect between my head and my heart. The truth is, if you knew the truth, and you still believe that my body is perfect, than you want to walk around with an invisible noose around your neck like I have been for 15 years. There is nothing glamorous about anorexia, bulimia or any eating disorder. Friends, do you still want my meal plan?"

A fantasy world...

Jeremy asked me the other night what I fantasize about. And not in the “whips and chains” context either! But truly the…what do you think about…dream about…aspire for aspect. It caught me off guard…and left me tongue tied. I honestly didn’t even know how to answer the question. When I was young I dreamt about turning 13… 18…and finally 21…years old. Now that those dates have come and gone, I don’t even remember what I was so excited about! I dreamt about marriage and the man I would marry…the children I would once have. After watching my parent’s divorce after 25 years of marriage, my heart is now unsure of that dream, overcome by the fear  and doubt that someone could ever love me forever after. I dreamt of once being a singer, a dancer, an actress, the first white Oprah. And of course, as I grew and matured, realized that would not be happening any time soon. And as I near the beginning of my Senior year of college and contemplate what is next for me (Basically as the big, bad GRE looms ahead) I question if I can get a good score on this thing, get into grad school (let alone pay for it) and what I will do after, where I will live, how I will make something of myself. All of this just makes me anxious. I know the Lord has it all in His plans…that worrying about it will do nothing, but it sure is easy to fall into complacency when faced with studying for the GRE, working on grad school assignments, and getting pumped for school in the fall. When I truly think about it and am honest with myself, my fantasies since I was 12 years old…and still to this day, swarm around my ED. All the time. What to eat, the gym, getting smaller, fitting into smaller sizes, shrinking away into oblivion to where I am in control of my body and contentedly numb. All the anxiety. The sadness. And depression. It all just melts together into one outlet: my eating disorder. Starvation. Endless exercising. Self-harm. Now, that I have a full time job, a loving relationship, and career that I am trying to get into…the time for acting out in my compulsions has been cut down drastically. I know this is a good thing. In fact, today marks exactly a year that I have been home for a year. A year in Recovery. I never thought I would say that, let alone live to see it. But praise the Lord, this last winter, I didn’t make my annual pilgrimage down to Arizona like I had for the last 3 years to visit treatment. I am surviving. But I still feel like I am barely holding on emotionally. I feel trapped inside a body that isn’t mine. Caught inside a body with a mouth that cannot express how alone I feel because no one understands the sick thoughts I have. And if I even tried to verbally pronounce them, I would sound crazy. I feel betrayed by hunger and the inevitable need and desire to eat. And not just lettuce and carrot sticks…but real, life giving food. I feel weak. I feel tired. Because all I fantasize about when I am brutally honest with myself is that sick body. How it felt, looked, how comfortable, safe, and secure it was to reside within a shell of skin and bone.

Jeremy also pointed out that I have seemed cranky lately, not my bubbly silly old self. I have tried to hide that lovely reaity. But I feel as though I am melting inside with how uncomfortable I am with myself and my future and it is beginning to seep out of my soul through my pores, out of my skin, and into reality for everyone to see. Especially those who are close to me and spend a decent amount of time with me. So Jeremy. And the last thing I want to do is affect him and allow him to see that side of me. The not so joyful and depressed side of me. The Winter who is really fucking tired of having a thousand voices yelling at me…the self destructive side telling me I don’t need to eat after work and before the gym….or ever for that matter. The side that says I should because otherwise I will just be light headed and starving afterwards. The sad Winter who hates what she sees in the mirror. The girl who can’t wear the clothes she wants to because of how the fit, how they feel against my new skin. The woman who is literally petrified in her own body, desperate to control it along with the future. The angry Winter who justifies the hurt she feels through others by taking it out on herself. I hate that I have to put on a happy face and yappy smile to keep the customers happy and make good tips to save up money that I don’t even know where it will be materializing from or if it will be even close to enough to keeping me alive through the winter. And then when I come home, I am spent and exhausted and can’t keep that smile on my face for my boyfriend continuously. So he sees the raw side of me I try to hide and hate. I hate that I sit here rambling on and on…yet it feels so good to get this shit out and let the poisonous worry seep out to where I am heard. Instead of sitting in silence. The black turmoil ruminating around in my brain like a freaking tornado. The dream I keep having, of a tornado swirling around me and shattering everything. It keeps happening in my dreams now. I am haunted by my conscious mind even in my unconscious state. So that even when I can shut my brain off and miraculously fall alseep, I am still tormented by the depression, the worry, the ED thoughts and desires. I feel exhausted. I thought it would be easier a year out in Recovery. Maybe it will become easier. But it sure feels hard right now. And I know that it is me that makes it hard. I know that people believe or think I can just ‘let it go’ (cue overused Frozen music) Oh, how I wish it were that simple. How I wish I had an on/off switch to do just that. I have lived for ten years in this turmoil. And I know that it will take time for a new normal to feel natural. But why can’t it happen NOW? In like 21 days, just like any other habit! Because this is a disease. And it is one that kills. I have lost four alumni of Rosewood Ranch this last year to this f-ed up disease. And those won’t be the last. And as peaceful as death sounds on a lot of days…I can’t let that become an option. No matter how loud or dark or lonely it gets. There is always tomorrow. God, give me the strength…to wait till tomorrow.

It comes down to wants and needs. And lately, trying to save as much money as I can, has truly pointed out to me where my wants and needs truly lie. I want to have MY set routine, where work and school don’t get in the way of my running, my starving, my calculating, and perfecting of MY beloved anorexia. But what I NEED is to move the F forward, to not become a statistic, and to keep challenging the thoughts in my head. One day at a time. What I need to do is to cry, to scream, to dance it out (preferably to some cray cray Lady Gaga music) and not to use food, exercise, alcohol, or any other substance to numb out the feelings I have. I need to nourish myself when I want to go back to the pre-pubescent looking child I once was, caught in the day to day life of a prisoner, a slave. I am a survivor. And for this I am thankful. I am thankful for the blessings my Savior has given me, for the life I have now, for my boyfriend who I met a year ago now, and for the ability to type what I need to so desperately get out of my heart. And for you friends out there who must have prayed for me continuously. I would be dead without the Lord hearing your Holy interventions on behalf of my withered soul. For I am what I am. It is what it is. And I cannot control a thing. Just like I can’t control the weather, the customers who walk through our door, my family’s feelings, or what will happen tomorrow. I can ‘create my own routine’ as my boyfriend so perfectly put it. And it all begins with being grateful. For what if we were to wake up tomorrow with only the things we were thankful for today? I wouldn’t have a whole lot, now would I? And that my friends, is a future I don’t want to fantasize about…