Rebuttal~

Voices in my head, painful memories rushing past like a car speeding too close to you. Tears seeping through my veins, an unconscious torrent of thoughts whipping me, leaving lacerations on my my heart and soul. That familiar Cris-crossed pattern.
 Numbers and I do not go together well...period. Yesterday, after a trip to the doctor to try to solve the mystery of why I have been feeling so depressed and lethargic these past several weeks, the nurse told me my weight. After telling her I needed to do a blind weigh in, she uttered that NUMBER.
And my head was off with the races.
Telling me so many awful things...scream,starve, cut, run.

ED,
I can see you there in the corner, curled up in a bawl, hiding your face to disguise the sick twinkle in your bloodshot eyes, a smirk across your horrid face. You are whispering to yourself, wringing your hands, and giggling uncontrollably. Just waiting for me to cave, ready to pounce, awaiting my demise. The devil who prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Your tactics are old, your moves predictable. Your callous comments now just make me sick. You think you still have power over me, and the truth is...your words will always hide out in the crevices of my brain, just waiting to materialize. But now I have the power. I have regained the strength you tore from out of my trembling, blue hands. Just because I found out my weight doesn't mean I will give up...You have controlled me for too long...I have fought too hard. Get your hands off of me...allow my bruises to heal. My festering wounds to scab over. I will allow myself to grow stronger. Fear me.
For here is my rebuttal.

You have shrieked at me for so long. I am so tired of your threats, your constant nagging worry. Your incessant demands and groans when I put anything remotely resembling food into my body. The way you pretend to love me and then stab me in the back. The horrible names you call me. The abuse. The physical, mental, emotional torture. You have poisoned my world, tainted everything with your jaded irony. You dropped me in the vat of self hatred, drenching me with my own salty tears, and wrung me dry, hanging me up on the close line of victims, displaying our sick bodies, scars, and pained faces for all the world to see. I am cutting myself free from the noose you have fastened around my neck. Learning to run again on wobbling legs. Opening my mouth and wailing my truth for the very first time, like a newly born infant. Fear me. This is my rebuttal.

I am not a problem that needs to be solved...I hold the answer inside, waiting fervently for me to recognize it.

Things I just don't get~

*Disclaimer: began this list before the happenings yesterday...ironic?

~Insurance
~Napping
~Snuggies
~Jeggings
~Socks with sandals
~Star Wars
~Why I can't apply eyeliner or mascara with my mouth closed
~Rap music
~Celebrities
~Super models
~Dating
~Boys
~Girls
~Relationships
~Why people post half naked pictures of themselves on Facebook
~'Your mom' jokes
~This new half shaved-half long hair style
~People who can exercise, drink, and eat normally
~Burping
~Why it costs so much to get an education
~ Skate boarding, downhill skiing
~Snakes
~Sudoku
~Casinos
~Dreams
~Anything that requires coordination
~Twitter
~Talking in public
~Gaming
~Infomercials
~ 'The Hangover'
~ Evolution
~ Clothing sizes
~ Why it can't be sunny all the time
~Llamas, ostriches, camels, all things with abnormally long necks
~ My body
~ GRACE

I met my therapist yesterday morning. She told me how they would like for me to stay until the end of July. My insurance rolls over June 30th. And I cannot afford the $3500 deductible. Unless I rob a bank.
I then left her office discouraged. To walk right into the shooting on Pico. The shots. The bus. It is all so real and still ringing in my ears. 7 dead. I know I should be grateful...but I cannot shake the question that is plaguing me. Why was I not one of them? I was right there...literally. Why was I not taken? So overwhelmed. It is so dark...clinging to something, anything...But I am losing my grip- feel myself slowly slipping...

Control?

I had a busy schedule last week. I was the DJ, GoGo dancer, and bouncer at my very own pity part. I had a list of all the things that were stressing me out...because heaven forbid I would forget something I could complain about. The big F word was hawking over me like a storm cloud, a monstrosity of gray blurr. FUTURE
I was depressed and going down the scary road of passive suicidal thoughts...no bueno. I felt physically ill and disconnected. NOT myself. I wanted to do anything to get myself out of the funk and feel better. Unfortunately, none of the coping tools I wanted to utilize were beneficial to me or my recovery. People kept saying, "This too shall pass!" And to be honest, I wanted to junk punch them!
I KNOW IT WILL PASS BUT I WANT IT TO GO AWAY NOW~ Cause I'm all about the instant gratification. But I trudged on.
Friday afternoon I talked to my dad...awkward but it went OK...I kept it like cotton balls, light and fluffy. I chilled at home and rested since my stomach was twistin around like Flipper. My mom called me later in the evening.
"I thought you died!" I told her (cause to not hear from her for more than an hour must mean she is dead...yes I am aware we are the epitome of co-dependency)
"I was out to dinner, and you will never guess with who!" she responded.
After a myriad of guesses which oscillated among President Obama, Oprah, or Jesus, she answered with a response that shocked me more than any of those three answers ever could have. My dad...
My parents have been separated physically for three years, but relationally for much longer. The fact that they both willingly spent a few hours together...in the same room...without killing one another...on their own with no outside mediation almost made me eat my flippin shorts...and trust me...willingly eating is not something I do often either (;)
She went down a list of things they had discussed that night and concluded with the statement..
"I THINK I NEED THERAPY."
OK...so side note~ Swing back to all the years I have been struggling with my own shit and worrying about her and her shit begging her to get help...to talk to someone...NEVER did anything...And then all of a sudden she and my dad spend time together and she comes away thinking, hm maybe I should get some help too. Now, am I going to fool myself into thinking that she will? HECK NO. HOWEVER, I had an epiphany, a wonderfully freeing thought...I DON'T FREAKIN CONTROL A THING IN LIFE~ My family, others, the future...NOTHIN! I don't have that much power. And lately I have been exerting myself to the breaking point trying to make everything work...and it has been like trying to make a square peg fit into a round hole...nevagonnahappen.

POW!~ GOD SMACK~ Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.

Yesterday morning in my daily A.A. meeting, a 70 year old man shared how he has begun seeing a therapist. How even at his age he has begun to trust enough to open the vast recesses of his mind and share the experiences he went through in his life.
He said, "It is painful. But I finally have began healing. THAT is grace."
Thinking of it now, gives me goosebumps. What an amazing opportunity for him and message to me. That it is never to late. Yep, my childhood was messed up. My parents' marriage...yipes. But now, I have the chance to learn from it and if for some reason God has a man lined up for me...(eeeeehyamaybeweshallseeahhhhhhummmmmmmmmm) I can learn from the past and correct it today for a better future.

Yep, it sure has been painful...but that's GRACE~

Letter to Body~

Dear body:

I wish I could say I like you…even accept you. I wish I could recall all the things you do for me instantly, trust you without hesitation. But the truth is, we have major relational issues. In the past, you have been used, violated, and disrespected by myself and others. I am sorry I didn’t protect you, that I disregarded all your needs and wants and instead threw you around like a rag doll, placing shame, guilt, and regret onto you. Your outer being emitted that very essence of my soul: self-consciousness, fear, and vulnerability. Which was time and time again taken advantage of. I still believe this was my fault. I feel I deserved it. I allowed it to happen, somehow asked for it. The only way I knew how to alleviate the nauseating feelings of disgust, the memories of hands on me, the things I have done…was to RUN. To shrink away from myself and others…literally. To retreat back to skin and bone, because that is all I deserved. All I knew.

I ran you into the ground, I starved you. I sucked the life from your veins and robbed you of all pleasure, joy, and nurturing. Yo9u were my slave, and I your driving task master. I wanted you to be perfect, immaculate from all you did to how you looked. Never again would I ever hear the word ‘fat’ used in reference to you, though this one word I utter to myself every breathe I allow to fill my lungs.

You are my vehicle to explore life, my vessel in which to store all the beauties in life, the shells that inhabits my soul. Yet you are my worst enemy, my greatest fear, and my darkest battleground. However, if I continue to engage in this fight, I will fail. I am not stronger than this disease. If is cunning, baffling, and powerful. So now I must raise my white flag. I give up. I can’t destroy and degrade you any longer. I admit defeat. I surrender. I wanted to capture beauty, but failed to see the beauty within. I wanted to find safety, but I landed myself in Hell. I long to allow human touch and affection in without grimacing at the terror that you will hurt me…again. I expect it now and shutter at the reverberating question that ruminates in my soul. “What are they thinking of me? What have I done? What will be done to me?” But to be honest, I’m too tired of caring. What others think of me is none of my business. They know my name, they know my story. At the end of the day, it comes down solely to me and God. He doesn’t make mistakes, or so I have been told. So I now apologize- for the mistakes I have made. How I have treated you. What I have allowed to happen to you-the pain I have inflicted onto you. I thank you for putting up with my demands and for never giving out on me. I hope you will accept my demands so we can rebuild this relationship. I know you are unsure and frightened. I am scared too~ so we will begin with baby steps. “Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.”

You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Your scars tell a story. Your arms embrace life; your hands allow others to reach out to you for help. Your smile can change your perception, and your feet can carry you on this journey, no matter how strenuous, how rocky, how tedious or painful. I won’t give up on you. I won’t give up on us. We are in this together. May God protect us as we trudge this road of happy destiny. One day at a time.

Sincerely~

W.G

Tissue Paper

Wondrously opaque~ Gifts inside
covering up the surprise.
Gorgeous, lovely presentation to the viewers eye.
Wrinkled and fake, torn with the fringes hidden,
wrenched out of the way to get to the treasure
All happened so sudden.
Overuse has made it withered
It's forgotten its value,its purpose
to bring joy, love, compassion.
But this life has lots its season
This desire has lost its reason.
Misuse has left this one abused
Self mutilated, perceptions skewed.
Standing tall, so strong and capable.
Face made of stone, stoic and able.
Till you draw near and examine up close
Exposing the optical illusion
discovering its footing is loose.
Putting up a good front,
shriveling from within.
Don't poke, don't prod
for my walls are but
tissue paper thin.

The Journey

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~ Mary Oliver ~

How to make poor choices~

1. Don't think before you speak.
2. Impulsivity is your best friend.
3. Don't ask ANYONE for their input. Assume that you know what is best.
4. Don't ask clarifying question.
5. If there is a dark, creepy alleyway...definitely walk down it.
6. If a creeper asks you for your phone number in line at CVS, give it to him.
7. If Simon says ------
8. Don't read the directions.
9. Don't touch! TOUCH IT
10. Go shopping alone and spend your entire paycheck.
11. Red means GO- Stop signs are just a suggestion.
12. If your nervous to tell someone about a choice you are making, its probably the wrong one.
13. Be by yourself...all the time.
14. Tell your life story and talk about all your past relationships on the 1st date.
15. Cut your hair.
16. Take in a stray cat.
17. Don't bring a sweater.
18. Get a tattoo or piercing when under the influence...or from a man in a windowless, white van.  (Ready for this! BRIDESMAIDS QUOTE!)

Brynn:Guess what happened to me today?

Annie:Mmm... what?

Brynn:I got a free tattoo. I could not believe it. The guy said, "do you want a tattoo?", opened up the side of his van...

Annie:Noooo...

Brynn:...and said "it's for free!" So I said, "sure."

 

19. Let your friend dye your hair.

20. Don't study for that pop quiz.

21. When your drunk, call your ex. Who is already on speedial.

22. But a pint of Ice cream and swear only to eat half.

23. Go spray tanning.

24. Call your father.

25. Mess around with another girl's boyfriend.

26. Go through your boyfriend's phone...texts (in order from previous to oldest)

27. Don't listen to Sirie.

28. Seek out all possible sugar daddy's on Match.com

29. Hair extensions...Grow a rat tail. Shave your eyebrows.

30. Brazilian bikini wax at home anyone?

31. Conveniently forget your sunscreen at home~ And peel off your burnt, peeling skin before beach visit number 2. You'll feel great in the morning.

32. Sit next to the homeless man on the bus. Proceed by licking the bus handle.

33. Sit next to the crying baby on your Southwest flight.

34. Eat the deli meat that's been in the hot car for hours.

35. Curdled cream. Tastes fine? Eh, I'm gonna drink it.

36. Text while driving. Preferably during rush hour...or in the presence of a cop.

37. Dawn in the dishwasher.

38. Toothpaste, deodorant, and Depends are not mandatory. To save money, make sure to leave your tampon in for as long as possible. Toxic shock isn't as bad as it sounds.

39. Rationalization, justification, and minimization are your three best friends.

40. Keep secrets...Don't ask for help. Cause lets be honest, nobody...I repeat, NOBODY is trustworthy.