Sunday, February 2, 2014

Valentine's Day

St. Valentine's Day began as a celebration of an early Christian saint named Valentinus. A popular hagiographical account of Saint Valentine of Rome states that he was imprisoned for performing weddings for soldiers who were forbidden to marry and for ministering to Christians, who were persecuted under the Roman Empire. According to legend, during his imprisonment, he healed the daughter of his jailer, Asterius. Before his execution he wrote her a letter signed "Your Valentine" as a farewell. SAD PANDA! I thought valentines day was sposed to be all about lil naked babies flying around with wings shooting cute arrows at stuff…not death…L

However…I wasn't really shocked…cause I never truly remember a valentine’s day that I enjoyed. Being homeschooled, we never had the pressure of getting OR receiving valentines from our classmates. Usually, my mom and dad would give us a little card and ask us to be their Valentines and we would be done with it. Boom.

As the years went on and boys, poor relationships, and experiencing my parents get divorced after 25 years of marriage jaded my love for Valentine’s day. Heck, it changed my whole view of love in general and I was now quite ambivalent toward the day of February 14. More or less, I was fine with drawing all over cupid’s face, maiming his very identity, popping every heart shape balloon that was in plain view, and running over all the chocolate box displays in the store with my shopping cart giggling manically. Ok…maybe not that far.

But this year, while chatting with a friend, he asked me what my plans were for Valentine’s day. I immediately went into my shpeel about how it is just a made up holiday that Hallmark created in order to make money. Not to mention, it is sexist because have you seen the card selection for males in Hallmark? Like maybe men want a card too? But I digress…

Basically he stopped me, looked me in the face and said…”So basically you have learned somewhere down the line or taught yourself to downplay Valentines day. So that if someone does something nice for you, swell! But if nothing really went down, then your hopes wouldn’t be crushed.”

 “EXACTLY!” I screamed! And since then I have been mulling this whole conversation. This year I have already been extremely blessed. My family is doing relatively well- the family that we have Hodge-podged together. I am back in school and have an amazing church family/friend group. AND I have been blessed with an amazing man whom God has put in my life to get to know…spend some time with…cuddle with…OK you get the picture! DATE J Now, I am a woman who doesn’t just date for ‘fun’sies. Heck, I was a self-proclaimed cat lady…minus the cats…who was going to be independent and be a single counselor and help lots of people…but I didn’t need no man to do all that. I was perfectly happy…just me myself and I. Then BAM. Oh….oh hey there God…oh you…you have this guy here. Hmm…well….fancy that… NOW WHAT THE H DO I DO WITH THIS…I was back spinning. My heart told me one thing…(DAMNNNNNBOYYOUFINE) but my head told me another thing (MALEMALEMALE=HURT<BROKENHEART<BADDDDD) Well, I am a pretty logical thinker. So ya know…we hung out during the summer of ’13 and then when I went back to school I ended it. Mostly because I am really good at sabotaging myself and my chances of ever allowing myself to be truly happy.

Then...dumdumdum… I finished up my semester back, came home for Christmas break…and got the BEST Christmas present I have ever got. A second chance with this man. I realized for so long I have stopped my heart from feeling. I starved it away. Ran it away. Pushed it all away. And it was dark and lonely. I don’t want to feel that way anymore. Yes, I have been hurt. Show me someone who hasn’t. Yes, I am scared. Who isn’t? But it is better to love, to fully embrace and experience it and take the chance of being hurt than to never love at all.

I don’t know where this relationship will lead. But I trust God and I trust Jeremy. Check, check. I am excited/nervous/anxious/grateful/HAPPY to see what the future holds. Day by day J

Jesus was asked, “What is the greatest commandment.” He replied, “To love the Lord with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. The second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.” Matthew 22: 36-40

 I pray that every day I would become more proficient with loving the Lord with all of me. This, I hope, will help me to understand what the second commandment even looks like. I am good at loving on other people…but when it comes to even knowing how to love...heck even ACCEPT myself…I am at a loss. And how can one truly love others if they are focused on how much they despise themselves? How can one experience the love someone wants to give them if they will not even entertain the idea that someone DOES care about them? My goal is to allow the healing freedom and grace of Jesus to wash over me…to accept that I am perfectly imperfect and can give and receive love fully.

How does one do this? This is one of my favorite verses in the Bible, one that I want to emulate not only to Christ and others but also to myself.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

The last thing I want to share is this song that I fell in love with recently: All of Me by John Legend. I pretty much cry every time…which is awkward when I am in public and it comes on ;)
 
 
 
~All of Me~

[Verse]
What would I do without your smart mouth
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out
Got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down
What's going on in that beautiful mind
I'm on your magical mystery ride
And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright

[Bridge]
My head's underwater
But I'm breathing fine
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

[Chorus]
Cause all of me
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
Give your all to me
I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I'm winning
Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you, oh

[Verse]
How many times do I have to tell you
Even when you're crying you're beautiful too
The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood
You're my downfall, you're my muse
My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues
I can't stop singing, it's ringing in my head for you

[Bridge]
My head's underwater
But I'm breathing fine
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

[Chorus]
Cause all of me
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
Give your all to me
I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I'm winning
Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you,oh
Give me all of you

Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts
Risking it all, though it's hard

[Chorus]
Cause all of me
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
Give your all to me
I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I'm winning
Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you

I give you all of me
And you give me all of you, ohh


 

 

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Cause I'm a woman- W O M A N ;)

The question was asked today of us, “What does being a woman mean? What is the definition of woman?”

At first glance, the biological basis and physiological perspective of being a woman includes several criteria to go off of. Having female genitalia, two x chromosomes, producing estrogen, containing the ability to bare children, etc. However, if you base being a woman solely on these factors, this then poses many questions related to transgender male to female sex changes. To women who decide they are truly men. Is physicality the only factor? In my opinion, sex characteristics may be how the world separates the two, since identifying genders has become very confusing in today’s world. But being a woman entails much more than what the body is up to!

What one must remember is women are HUMANS. They have the same desires, needs, and wants as anyone else. Hunger, thirst, sex, belonging, urination, and yes, even defecation! Just because society portrays women as dainty, does not mean that women are not the same as any other organism. In today’s society, women are confronted with a long list of dirty laundry. Women are “supposed to” be successful, yet somehow this mysterious wage gap still exists, with men earning 12.5 more cents in the work place. Women are supposed to become mothers who focus solely on their children but when they want to stay at home with those children, are then told to go back to work right away. Yet the minute they do, people shake their head in disdain at the fact that they left the children in the care of someone else so soon. Women are supposed to be thin as rails, finding the time to spend hours at the gym and squelching the need for sustenance, denying their innate appetite for food. And good food at that. Not just celery and mustard. But yet they are to be strong enough to deal with all life throws at them. They are supposed to be beautiful, but not vain, virgin-like, yet please our lovers in bed with our endless sexual passion. We are to stand up for ourselves and share our opinions effortlessly, yet clearly women are to be seen…not heard. We must fight against all abuse, yet we are told to be submissive creatures.

        Confused yet? I know I sure am! Why the double standard? What is the true woman supposed to do? Who is she supposed to be? What encompasses this female person?

        The fact of the matter is, the woman defines this. Each one is different. Not one is the same. Yes, we may have some similar qualities: boobs, butts, and hips. Menstruation. Hormones. But this is not entirely all what makes us who we are. When I think of what ‘woman’ means…one word comes to mind for myself. Fighter, Fighting stereotypes, fighting men, fighting each other, fighting media’s portrayal of our bodies and roles in society, fighting tradition, and often, we fight ourselves. We fight what we truly want deep down in ourselves. We allow other people to taint our minds of what we are to be and then direct us to behave, act, live a certain way which is counter-intuitive to who we are meant to be. The classic ought to be syndrome. I out to be successful, thin, beautiful, motherly, clean, orderly, contained. But says who? The truth is, you can’t box us in, you can’t define us. It would be a terrible injustice to do so. Because then we would not only be unable to explore ourselves, we would also be cut off from reaching our full potentials. Because as writer Laurel Thatcher Ulrich states, “Well-behaved women seldom make history. “We can do whatever we want. The sky is the limit. We are the only thing stopping ourselves. Women are creations, just like men. Each individual and unique. There may be a socially constructed and generally acceptable mold out there that others try to fit women into. But that mold is first, constricting. Second it is unattainable and unrealistic. Lastly, it is deadly to the spiritual, mental, emotional, and sometimes even physical realm of the female person. Rules are meant to be bent. And molds are meant to be broken. And I for one, broke the mold of what a woman “should” be. And I am better for it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Would I be considered a woman in other countries? Most likely, I think I would pass! I fit all the ‘legal’ definitions of being female. However, would I WANT to be a woman in some other countries? In various places, including Africa, Thailand, and even our own U.S., oppression, sex trafficking and slavers, rape and sexual abuse, female genital mutilation, complete covering of women’s’ bodies in clothing and other demeaning practices women are put through occur. As I reflect upon what it means to me to be WOMAN, I reminisce back to when I was a little squirt. The first time I truly realized that I was, in fact, a female was thanks to my little brothers. I helped raise them like any big sister does, which included punching them in the face, hitting them in the lip, and occasionally kicking them in the nether regions, which produced quite an exorbitant amount of pain for them! I didn’t really understand why they would cripple over in pain when we were quite little, but as we got older, as most little kids do, we would play the “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” game. And I definitely did not have whatever they had that could cause them this great discomfort. It was no big deal though. Until I hit about ten and was at a sleepover with friends at our mentor’s cabin and one of the girls got her period for the first time. I basically thought the world was ending and she was going to die from hemorrhaging out from between her legs! When I got home and started hyperventilating from anxiety, my mother sat me down, handed me an American girl body book and told me to read it. Boom. Sex talk. Right there. Then when I hit the lucky age of 12 I got my period for the first time and begged my mother not to tell my dad (which she did anyways) and she cried for joy and I cried in pain and it was grand. Accept puberty. No. Puberty was NOT grand. I went from running around being fine with whatever I ate and wore to suddenly having boobs and hips and stuff jiggling in places I didn’t want it to. I shot up to my current height of 5 feet 8 inches…at 10 or 11. It was rough. I thought being a woman was going to be like becoming a miniature version of my mom. Make dinner, keep the house clean while teaching us kids, love on my dad while still being able to work out all the time and still look presentable. Then after 25 years of marriage it all came to a halt. They got divorced. And I found out how unhappy she had really been. The connection with my father was gone. Her passion for life was squelched, her needs and desires overlooked. And I realized my idea of what a woman is was a far cry from the perfect little motherly princess society tells us we have to be. I love being a woman. I have always known I was female. And not just because I didn’t have a penis. But because I knew deep down I was happiest watching my grandma put on her makeup in the morning. Smelling her perfume. Twirling around in a black leotard in the living room of my childhood home. Hanging out with my girlfriends and matchmaking. Having sleepovers, eating junk, and endlessly fantasizing about our boy crushes. Dreaming in my heart about maybe…one day getting married and becoming a mother. Because I knew in my heart from a young age that being a woman was something special. Not because of anything in particular. Lord knows there are definitely moments I wish I could pee standing up and could get ripped like THAT. Sure, I went through a Tom boy stage…but it consisted of literally wearing a shirt that said Tomboy on it, four wheeling in the mud, and giving my dad the evilest stink eye I could when he would call me his girly girl. I have never questioned who I am- a woman. That is who I am. Yes, it comes with boobs and a butt, hips and thighs which I can’t erase. It comes with a menstrual cycle, raging hormones, weird cravings, the need to shave, and all that jazz…but it also comes with love. With the ability to comfort. To carry a child someday, if that is what God’s intent is. For so long I tried to squelch my female-ness. For years I have battled anorexia. I wanted a body that was curve-less. Flawless. Didn’t jiggle. Didn’t touch. Skin and bone is what I shot for. And that is what I got. I also go lanugo, amenorrhea. I was cold all the time. I couldn’t do anything I wanted to do because my family was so concerned my heart would stop at any strenuous exertion. It was hell. I was weak and frail. Because I thought that is what women were supposed to me. Submissive. TINY. Iridescent. I learned that is not who I am. I am strong. I am loud. I give my opinion and I don’t care who disagrees. I am fierce and in the words of Katy Perry, “You’re gonna hear me roar!” OK…maybe not. But being a woman to me means a whole lot more than wearing dresses and bearing children. And I learned that it is ok to be me…slowly but surely. I have expected perfection...what I got was human. For a while I lost touch with who I was, but when found myself again I was astounded to find that she wasn't all bad. Flaws and all...I am what I am~

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

January 15th


If you would have told me what my life would look like now a year ago…I would have thought you were crazy. Because one year ago today, on January 15th 2013, I was on a plane to Phoenix, Arizona. Upon arrival, I was picked up and driven to Wickenburg, Arizona where I entered the doors of Rosewood Eating Disorder center for the third time. I was still fighting with my anorexia, heavy with shame and fear, and terrified of recovering. I had lived this way for so long…how was I to know if the other side- health- was better than this? If it was even attainable? I wanted to die.

Here is my journal entry from that day: January 15th

“Back at Rosewood- My head is telling me, yelling, cursing me. You don’t need to be here. You are not that sick. What the hell are you back for?

To get back on track…mentally it was time. Food is so hard. I don’t want to eat at all. Struggling. I hate my body I wish it were sicker. I don’t need to be here. God, help me. Quiet the voice. You have given me the opportunity to go back. I don’t know why. But right now just hold me. Help me to know it is going to be OK and that you have a plan. Because right now I wasn’t to run. I don’t want to be here. I feel so wrong. Part of me just wants to shrivel up and die. Am I really ready to come into treatment and accept the fact that I can’t continue to attempt to kill myself anymore? Can I truly stay in recovery? I don’t feel it is possible for me…I’ve tried and failed every time. What is going to make this time different? I let my family down. They have had to watch me do this so many times. I have nothing left of myself…Will I ever be anything? God help me.”

What made the difference? Surrender…faith…determination. Rosewood helped support me as I started slowly fighting back for my life. They taught me how to eat again, how to sleep, how to pray, laugh, love and LIVE. They gave me the tools to open the book of my story and begin on a new page. I am unable to rewrite the past- with all its pain and foibles. But now I have the opportunity to create a story dedicated to God’s saving grace, His mercy, His STRENGTH, and His never ending love. Today I start classes again at U of I, studying Psychology to one day help the world in any way I can by counseling those who suffer. My debt was paid by Rosewood, by ANJ, by U of I when I couldn’t pay it. And I am forever grateful for God’s endless provision.

Today, I have the best family I could ever ask for. A roof over my head with two amazing roommates. A wonderful church. A man I can’t get enough of…my boyfriend. A job playing with little kids. And amazing friends who have supported me through my journey. Never give up…never surrender to death. Because for all you know your dreams could be a day away~

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

New Years 2013~


This year I want to___ ___________fill in the blank.

January 1st- This seems to be the magical day that apparently begins the year that you will eat healthier, lose x amount of pounds, get in a relationship, END a relationship, be nicer, go to church more, budget your finances, quit smoking, drinking, work harder, BE BETTER and any other New Year’s resolutions that you come up with. I know for me the days after New Years are always annoying…because my gym is packed…and then attendance will wane like it always does… I hate all the pop ups on my Facebook and internet page about dieting and lose this amount of weight this year…Thanks but no thanks. Been there…done that. It didn’t make me a better person. I wasn’t happy. It was miserable. Yet ED is good at making me forget this, the King of Lies. But I am fallibly gullible…I made the foible, the utter mistake of stepping on that DAMN scale after the holidays. Why? I don’t know…I regret it and want to punch myself in the face…However, I will not do that. Just like I will choose not to self-harm over the shock of the number I saw staring back at me. I will not starve myself. I will try to refrain from over exercising. I will hold myself accountable. I told my mom right away. I told people around me that would understand and support me despite this stupid mistake. I tried to be kind to myself. I tried to ask myself what I would tell someone close to me who I cared about what to do in this situation. I breathed and prayed and cried…because though the number is higher than ED thinks it should be…I am alive. I am healthy. I have energy. And that number does not define me. I used to feel like whenever I walked anywhere in my disease, I had a huge sign stating ~ANOREXIC~ pasted to my forehead. Now I just feel like I have that damn number stuck to me…everywhere. Why do I constantly hold myself to this standard when I would NEVER judge or ask anyone what they weighed? IT DOES NOT MATTER TO ME ONE IOTA! So why do I think I should hold myself some unit of measurement that will fluctuate with age, the time of month, year…EVEN DAY! Good Lord. No, this year I choose to focus on how I measure up to God! I choose to weight myself by HIS standards. And that means getting up every morning, building my fire, and letting it blaze for HIM. So that those who hopefully will see the light in my eyes and not the death that was there last year at this time will know that it is because of HIM~ For He who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it. But I sure as heck can’t complete that life if I am running on empty. And even though I feel like controlling that number will solve all my problems and give me a sense of control, of power, I have to constantly remind myself of how THAT went. No. ED can no longer have that power. GOD has full control of my life now. When I give Him ALL of the parts of me, not just the ones I feel comfortable giving Him, there is success. There is victory in Him. But alone, within my own power, I create disharmony and absolute misery for myself, which then ripples out to my beautiful family.       Last night was a family dinner with my dad for his girlfriend. I didn’t want to go. In fact, I told myself I was not allowed to go. Well, ED told me I couldn’t. Then my little brother (not so little anymore…) called me on his way home from Portland. And he said this to me.

“I CALLED TO BITCH YOU OUT! YOU CAN’T HAVE PLANS TONIGHT! YOU HAVE TO COME WITH ME TO THIS STUPID FAMILY DINNER SO WE CAN SIT THERE AND ENTERTAIN EACH OTHER! YOU MUST COME WITH ME! “

Yaaaaa #sorrynotsorry Im SOOOOOO not going so have fun!

But then I prayed about it. I assessed why I really didn’t want to go. And all the reasons I didn’t want to go were ED related.

F my life I told myself…It is so weird/aggravating/incredibly hard to explain having two sides in your head. If I go, my ED will be super pissed at me. If I don’t go, Winter will feel badly. So I friggin’ went…after much debate and indecision and hemming and hawing and NOT WANTING TO FRIGGIN GO. And yep, I was right…ED was pretty pissed. He just saw that number on the scale going uppppp and upppp and upppp! But ya know what was awesome…My lil brother…his girlfriend…my dad…THEY DON’T FRIGGIN CARE WHAT THE NUMBER ON THE SCALE IS! My lil bro just wanted me there to keep him company. We ended up laughing till our guts hurt…I love him. And I decided ED can’t keep me from my family. EVER AGAIN. Cause I don’t care…well…at least I desperately don’t want to care about that stupid scale…It doesn’t own me. Just like an inanimate object doesn’t care what it weighs. I betcha anything my bed at home….it is not worried about how many pounds or kilograms it weighs. It doesn’t wonder if the comforter I put on it makes its ass look big or if the fitted sheets are making it appear to have a muffin top. If it was rock hard and boney, I would not want to sleep on it. I need my bed to be firm to support me, my back, and joints, but plenty soft and padded to rest on and sink into.

This is my New Year’s resolution: To not care about that insignificant number on the scale. On the treadmill. On the tag on my clothes. How many calories are on my plate. I want to worry about the number of laughs I have in a day, only counting the moments I am able to look back on and think THAT WAS FRIGGIN AWESOME because I listened to God, my family, my friends and someday MYSELF instead of friggin ED! J My goal…not to weigh myself. My physical being. But my spiritual, mental, and emotional self on a weekly basis and make sure I am on track and sustaining myself. Of course, to make sure I am sustaining myself physically as well! But to be kind to myself. To focus on those around me, those I want to help with my degree, those who may be struggling and hurting with their own struggles. A quote I read and stuck with me was this: Be kind to everyone around you for each person is fighting their own battles. Amen and Amen! And can I get an AMEN!? Everyone has their issues, whether it be smoking, drinking, money etc. There are so many stumbling blocks in this world. My goal…this year…to help kick those blocks in the balls, taking the power away from those things!

OWN 2014! FORWARD! Onward! UPWARD!

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

CHRIST-mas 2013


What is the best Christmas present you have ever received? Like the Grinch from Dr. Seuss’s book, sometimes we learn the best gifts don’t come wrapped in packages, boxes, or bags! Don’t get me wrong…I love giving and receiving Christmas gifts as much as the next 6 year old child (at 21  years old J) I love me some ribbons and bows and I could huff the intoxicating sent of Scotch tape till my brain cells are like Sugar Plum mush… However this year, I have realized that there are three things that I have been gifted that will forever go on my “Naughty and Nice” list for Christmas presents~

1.       The gift of God’s son to this earth~ Jesus Christ. My Father, HE is the best Christmas present I have ever received. His love, grace, and endless mercy is priceless. He calls me by name, He knows my innermost thoughts, He has the days of my life listed, and the hairs on my head counted. He knows all that I have done and before I open my mouth next He knows what I will say. My future is mapped out in the palm of His hand. He loves me so much that He died for me! He has claimed my soul. I am forever His. He paid the greatest expense for my gift…with His blood, sweat, and tears. He did this to buy my life back…to pardon my numerous sins with His unfathomable love. This IS the best gift I have ever possibly been given. The amazing thing? YOU can have it too! Anyone who believes in Him can have eternal life~ He offers this immense gift to us all- Forgiveness, Grace, Peace, Life. You don’t have to pay for shipping and handling, there is no service charge or entrance fee. You don’t have to buy any other silly gizmos or useless extensions or warranties along with it. There is no cash, credit card payments, or checks involved. It is FREE. And it is waiting to be opened and loved on by you and me J

 

2.       Last year at this time, I couldn’t sleep through the night. I was frigid continuously, covered in goose bumps and lanugo, despite wearing layers of clothing under my work uniform. My extremities and lips were a raunchy purple hue. I rode a bicycle to work in 10 degree weather, where every time I bent down to retrieve something, I would see stars, my head swimming.          I couldn’t lift anything heavier than a bottle of soda on the conveyer belt for customers to scan. I was mistaken for a 15 year old at 20 years of age. My treatment team had quit seeing me because I was a liability. My heart rate was at 32 bpm. I was muted. I was disintegrating. I was lifeless. I was a slave to Anorexia. I needed help…again. But after being admitted to an Eating disorder facility both winters before 2013, I refused to go back. Even if it inevitably meant being kicked out of the Sober Living home I was staying in and living on the street.  Then my beautiful souled friend whom I had met in treatment my first visit started talking to me. As a nurse, when she heard about my heart rate and the condition I was in, as well as the sheer mental state I was suffering, she was gravely concerned. This frightened me. It actually caught my attention. I didn’t realize that this was an issue. I was in complete and utter denial, my eye sight completely obscured by ED, unable to see any clear truth. Slowly, through the prayers of many, God began to soften my heart. For three excruciating weeks I sought out Inpatient treatment options near my surrounding area. Each place rejected me due to my unstable EKG and blood work results. I refused to consider the possibility of going back to the same treatment center I had attended the two prior times I was hospitalized. But again, God used their amazing intake coordinator and staff to love on me and change my heart. In January of 2013, I entered the doors of Rosewood Eating Disorder Center in Wickenburg, Arizona for the third (and God willing, LAST) time and began the uphill journey back to life. It was and still is an everyday struggle. Unlike an addiction to drugs or alcohol, abstinence is not recommended for anorexia…that is kinda how I got to treatment in the first place! Instead, they say that food is your medicine- restoring your brain and bodily functions. It is an excruciating, terrifying, and humbling experience. It was also the best thing I have ever done. I met so many amazing people along the way who taught me that getting help does not deem you weak, but instead shows just how dedicated one is to being the best that one can be in life. Those people are survivors. They have waded through the shiz, earning their stripes and stories. I am forever grateful. This year I not only have the gift of recovery, I have the ability to be back in school, studying the very passion of my heart- Psychology- that I hope to use to one day help others on their journey to Recovery- to one day see them open that glorious gift and hold onto it forever. It may sit on a shelf for extended periods of time…collecting dust with seldom use. It may be misused. It may be thrown away. But the beautiful thing? It can be taken down from that shelf. It can be brushed off and be as good as when you first opened it. As I have learned through my interaction with many other fighters, it can be re-gifted, for so many have influenced my healing process in incredible ways. This Christmas, I am so grateful for the gift of Recovery. It is one I hope and pray I will fight to give myself each year!

 

3.       Lastly, I am so grateful for the gift of family, for a Holiday my brothers and I can spend together with our parents. Though our family is dysfunctional, quirky, and wild- I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I am so proud of the fierce woman my mother has become. She is my partner in crime, my gumba, my best friend. She knows me better than any other person on this earth…HECK she squirted me outta her vagina! Come on now! My brothers and their amazing hearts and eclectic personalities~ My father and his kind soul and hard-working drive. I fall in love with their imperfections, not the things they strive to be “perfect” at. I am so grateful they do the same thing for me- for I am greatly flawed! One day, I hope to be able to view myself as “enough” imperfections and all!

 

This year, I want to thank you all for giving me the greatest gift you could possibly give me: The gift of you never ending support, kindness, and love. It is priceless to me. Each and every one of you are a gift to my life each day. I wish you all the best on this CHRIST mas Eve~ Please know that you are loved! May God bless you and keep you~

Winter Grace~

 

Enough~


   I have been trying to reach out to a friend who has been going through relationship problems lately. Most of the time I don’t know whether to try to spew out all the advice I have building up inside of me on his predicament or if I should keep my mouth shut and try to just listen. I straddle that thin line between my co-dependent self wanting desperately to fix it for him and my wise mind knowing that he has to go through this pain by himself…which sucks cause every fiber in me wishes I could take it from him. A lot of the depression-induced thoughts he is having really strike my own heart. Will I ever be able to have a healthy relationship? How can I allow myself to fully trust someone when I have been hurt so many times? What if God wants me to be alone? In hearing his agonized questioning, I had to step back and look at my own heart before I carefully responded to his deep intrigues.

   For many individuals, loneliness is kryptonite. Women have to go to the bathroom in large groups, for Heaven’s sake! In fact, just the other night I walked into a restaurant to meet a date there for dinner. Since I was a tad early, I waited inside at the front for him. The seating hostess asked if I was a party of one and I quickly told her that I was waiting for someone, silently thanking the good Lord that I didn’t have to be there eating alone. Awkward. But why? Why is that awkward? Why is it such an uncomfortable thing to go out to eat by yourself? To take yourself to the movies? Buy yourself flowers? We are meant to be in relationship with one another, but does it always mean that we must be looking for that in a partner? In a dating situation? For me, I don’t think it does. While I hope that God has a man out there for me to settle down with some day, I do not fear being “alone” for the rest of my life. Because I have experienced community and the fulfillment that it brings and I know I will never be truly ALONE. Why? Because 1. I have God, 2. I have family, and 3. I have a slew of other brothers and sisters in Christ to do life with! This has been made very apparent to me throughout this last year going through treatment, school, an amazing baptism, and joining a wonderful church. I no longer have to fear what others think of me. I don’t have to get absurdly nervous before going out on a casual date. (Though trust me…I still do! J ) Why? Because I AM WHAT I AM. If I try to make some man fall in love with the well behaved, put together woman I WISH and could PRETEND to be…he is falling in love with something that isn’t true. And though I may be able to keep the act up for a little while, sooner or later he will find the soot on my cheek and realize I ain’t no Cinderella! Instead, I want to go into the night being totally myself. My quirky, crazy, random, hyper self. I’m gonna order dessert, eat with my hands, tell you about how I love my family, am crazy about God, spend my free time in a library, and listen to Lady Gaga profusely. I’m going to show you the scars from where I trip over myself running, tell you my most embarrassing moment, and explain why I would rather read a book than go out drinking on a Friday night. Chances are I will show up 10 minutes early because I am OCD, have little to no makeup on, and may not be wearing pants cause I hate real clothes…(Don’t worry I will DEFINITELY be wearing bottoms of some sort….GOOD GRIEF!) I will shake my head when you go into rants about how much you work out, I will stop you at crude or racial jokes and rude smirks about someone sitting next to us, and I will cock my head in confusion when you start talking about video games and movies. This will probably drive most dudes away. This may prevent me from ever marrying. And I have accepted that IT’S OK. So to all those SINGLE peeps out there, don’t sweat it. Yes, it always nice to be with someone who tells you how awesome you are or buys you shiz…but the truth is…I have to be able to do that for myself FIRST before any man does that for me. Because otherwise I will just get angry at him, turn mean, green, and bulky and throw things at him like the Hulk. Because I don’t believe it. And no matter how much you try to convince me that I am not an ogre, I will not be able to take that into my speculatory heart without some major self- reconstruction first. And that is where it is up to me. To take time to learn what I actually like, instead of liking whatever THAT guy likes…instead of morphing myself into whatever Bob or Jerry or Tiny Tim want. I want to be what GOD wants. I want to be the daughter He intended me to be. And if that happens to fit into the mold of a relationship with a man, awesome! If not…mmm I might not feel so awesome…but I’ll get over it! Because God has other things planned! For He who has begun a good work in me will be faithful to complete it~ His plans are greater than anything I could ever construct. So here’s to throwin’ my hands up in the air, dancing to the beat of my own drum, enjoying bein’ single, and knowing that a party of ONE is just nifty, as well! Cause no matter what, I’m never ALONE~

This message has been brought to you by:

YOUR CHEEKY MONKEY, WIN J

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Thanks and Giving~ 2013

I once had a dream...

That I was a slave to life itself. That I could not step outside without worrying about being seen by those around me who pleaded with me to stop the way I was living. I was constantly tired. No amount of sleep could remove the bags from my eyes and the exhaustion from my eyes. Each day felt like a horror movie placed on repeat. I woke up dreading the day before me, crippled with anxiety, just trying to make it through the hours until I get fall fitfully into a surface haze of sleep.
I was on the verge of being kicked out of my sober living home because I had relapsed on my eating disorder. Everyone looked at me with concern in their eyes, a grimace on their face.

I once had a dream that I was in living hell where I lived like this for YEARS...
I wish I could tell you I woke up from this bad dream. That everything is different now. That the voices don't plague me, the anxiety doesn't exist any longer. Instead of waking up to a complete and total transformation, each day I must change the dream I am living in. I must continuously fight the battle in my head and my natural desire to want to hurt myself.

I can tell you that my life is so different today~ It looks, feels, tastes different. As I was walking outside yesterday, I was struck HARD with a bus....

OK not a literal bus (did I scare you?? :P ) No, with a GOD bus! With a Happy Yellow-how thankful I am that my life has turned 180 degrees- BUS!

I am so thankful for all my friends and family who have stuck by me and love me with a love I cannot comprehend~ My family is lop-sided, quirky, and dysfunctional. But they are MY family. And I love them for that. Especially my best friend, my panda, my baby girl: My mom, Brenda Jane Fierce, who is the reason I breathe some days. "Sisters, sisters-Their were never such devoted sisters!" *LOVE

For the opportunity to be back at school studying what I love. Yes, it is stressful and sometimes I want to junk punch it all in the face and finally accept that I should just work at McDonalds forever. And then I giggle and put the pen to paper and push on. McDonalds my arse! I'll show you!!!

For the ability to run without shame, without fear of being seen by people who will yell at me (though they didn't ever yell they were just concerned:(. I am so thankful I don't have to hide constantly. NOW I can run without the shame of knowing that I am hurting my body. I am no longer a slave to it, but rather run on sheer passion and exuberance for the energy I have been given to live life again.

MOST of all, I am thankful for God's gift of His grace, His never ending patience. Because I am one silly, stubborn nifkin who likes to screw things up...ALOT. I always think I can do it MY way. False. When will I learn this? No idea. But thank God I have a Heavenly Father who doesn't require me to pass some test, who holds me to a certain GPA, a bill I have to pay each month for my salvation, a certain number of hours I have to work, a number I must weigh, a size I must fit- an empty shell I must be. No. He wants me to be my weird, crazy, Winter self. I don't know why. I don't understand why He loves THIS. But I can feel Him. And I know in some way (though sometimes Satan tries to convince me otherwise) HE DOES LOVE ME. For when I look back at where I was last year, where I have been, and what my life is like today...I see His love~ And it is astounding to me. I am blessed. And I want YOU all to know what a joy you are to this world. Even when you don't feel like it, YOU ARE. Simply because you breathe. This is a truth I am trying to learn each day, slowly. And though life seems impossibly insurmountable at times and I would rather crawl through crushed glass, I simple remember- He dies for US. He hasn't dropped me on my head yet...:)

Happy Thanksgiving to all! Know that I am so Thankful for YOU~ Gobble gobble!