I am NOT Superwoman

I got into a bit of a tiff with my boyfriend on Thanksgiving. Ok. Not really a tiff so much as a "why the hell do you not understand why I am so fucking exhausted and worn thin" talk....

I explained to him that I don't like when people call me superwoman. It pisses me off. It makes me feel dehumanized. As though nobody seems to recognize that my life is driving me damn near the brink of insanity at least once every two weeks. I don't put up statuses about how busy I am to get props from people. I put them up in hopes that someone will be like "damn. she needs a break... maybe we should grab coffee or drink". Yet, I constantly get shit like "if anyone can do it, then you can" or "superwoman just got owned".... Screw you guys. That's not what I need.

I know that I can do it. It isn't an option. I have responsibilities that I do not intend to hang up the towel on. Nor do I have the option. However, it would be nice to get someone to go out of there way for me every now and again.

Hence what my disagreement with my boyfriend was about.

I go and go and go from 7am until 11pm (if I am lucky) damn near every day of the week. From chores to errands to bathtime to papers to cases to cooking to bedtime. It simply does NOT end. Every. There is no such thing as a real break that exists without some level of guilt for me. If I take a break to do something for me... It inevitably comes at the expense of sleep or responsibilities. Which catch up with me and bring me to the brink.


So, I will take whatever help I can get whenever I can get it and from whomever is offering... Unfortunately, few people offer.

I am recognizing the futility of my efforts in certain areas. I have accepted that the laundry will never stay done and the dishes will always be dirty. I have accepted that I will inevitably forget to brush my daughter's teeth at least twice a week. I have also come to terms with the reality that I cannot possibly read all of the chapters that my professors assign to me. It isn't possible if I value any of my sanity. I also cannot take on every damn case or job opportunity that comes my way. Nor can I be a mentor or head up a research team. I probably won't be able to go straight into my PhD. I can't afford it and my sanity probably won't permit it.

I also can't be the friend that is always touching base or trying to make plans. I can't be the perpetual hostess or provide the best Christmas presents to everyone that I care about. Some nights it is OK to bake cookies that aren't from scratch. It is also acceptable to just eat a mother fucking pizza when there is no food in the house.

I do not have to have a life for the record books. I just need to have a life that is worth living. One that I enjoy and find fulfillment in...

Sadly... there are few things that I do that are not because I feel like I have to.

I am so goal oriented it is despicable. It is the only way that I know how to function sometimes. I try to work on it buuut I am not always successful in my attempts. I think that blogging may be one of the few things that I do for no reason other than to let the negative energy out. Because that feels good.

I should do more of what feels good.... and find a way to not feel guilty for it.

Life is Beautifully Fickle

I have had an extremely challenging week. Everyday was full of challenges in different realms. Tuesday and Wednesday challenged my relationship. Thursday broke my family and my heart. Friday shook my health. Today, I feel as though I have opened my eyes again. I don't know exactly why or what element of this week shook me awake; but it did.


Halloween has been my favorite holiday since I was a child and I found myself lacking in enthusiasm this year. I had been stoked on it for weeks. I knew what my daughter's costume would be and how I would pull it all together. I thought I knew where I was going trick or treating and who with. Then, the conversation I had with my boyfriend the night before came to haunt my psych ninja mind. I couldn't drop it. I had to investigate. Which never leads me in a good direction. Yet, I tend to have this problem with being stubborn and bullheaded.

The end result?

I was drained of all life force before I even picked my daughter up. I did my best to rally my enthusiasm and push through it. Unfortunately, my health was already beginning to falter on me. My head ached and my mouth wasn't far behind. I just floated through the evening. My daughter had a good time. Yet, I know that I should have done better. I didn't prioritize appropriately.

Thursday morning I had to get my daughter to the optometrist. Just as I was getting into the "let's get dressed" portion of the morning, three kids knocked on my door. They didn't look happy. They didn't have See's candy bars. Shit....

Sure enough... My precious kitty had been struck by a car. Right by the curb. Sometime between 1 and 8 am. I saw her playing with my puppy the night before. I could almost swear that I had seen her early in the morning but it was all a haze. I walked out to make sure it was her.... My heart just shattered. My daughter didn't understand. I just sobbed.... for about an hour and a half.

My sweet sweet little girl did her best to calm me down. She reversed roles on me. I don't handle loss or change or grief very well. I am a bucket tipper. I couldn't keep the floodgates back. I felt responsible. I didn't want her outside. We couldn't prevent it because of our dog's need for a doggie door. Yet, I still felt like it was my fault... our fault... that I should have been more insistent about my wishes for how she was housed. That I wanted my wishes respected. That my knowledge had been under recognized. That I had bowed my head and accepted circumstances rather than fought for what I knew was right. I paid for my cowardice.... Rather my kitty did. She would have been a year the day she was killed :(


Thursday night my mouth started aching... I woke up two or three times in the middle of the night. It was excruciating. I called the nurse hotline Friday morning... practically in tears from the pain. Long story short. I went from a Parent Teacher Conference to the Oral Surgeon's office.... I got all four of my wisdom teeth removed yesterday afternoon. I was scared and in pain. I'd never been under anesthesia before. I gave my daughter a big hug and kiss and went in. My amazing father was there to pick me up. He took me home and then went out to get my prescriptions and hunted down matzo ball soup for me. I barely had to ask him. He knew that I needed the help. He was there. Like always. Yet, I know that won't last forever.


Last night I was sitting on the couch. I was suddenly struck by the one thing that I felt would help me tie everything together that was lacking. I need purpose. I need something to do with my daughter. I need something to show my knowledge and my opinions. I need something with endless love and affection. Something stable and dependent upon me that is not unhealthy. I need a puppy. My own puppy.

The dog that is currently in my home is my boyfriend's. I didn't train her. I didn't make the final decisions when it came to anything for her. Be it her food or her crate training. I will with this puppy. I started hunting last night and woke up this morning emboldened to search the local rescues. I reluctantly woke my sleeping boyfriend and convinced him to go with me before he went to work. I found him. He is a lab/collie mix. He is black and has longer hair. Not long, just enough to have a little wave with it. His chest is white with little black and grey specks. He is tiny for a lab mix. About 9 weeks and maybe 5lbs. His paws are pretty small. I think he will be around 35-40lbs. He was mellow and comforted the more worried pups in his litter. He has big sad black eyes and little eyebrows. He is perfect. They got him from a high kill shelter. I will make him my final recovery dog. Go figure....

My sister obviously thinks that I am nuts. That I am being spontaneous. I am not. I have wanted my own dog for years. I have helped two boyfriends with theirs and taken a back seat. I will foster my daughter's sense of responsibility and teach her how to care for another. I will have someone who will always be glad to see me. That will take some pressure off of my human loved ones. I need a companion. My own companion. So, I will pick him up Friday after work.

I feel as though I have opened my eyes to my own needs. That I have stopped caring about practicality or playing it safe or what others want. I need to take what I want out of everyday. I have done all that I can to ensure that I have the love of those in my life. I need to sit back and wait and see. That is all that is left.


However, I am someone who is constantly in need of a project and a challenge. So, I will look to my darling puppy for that. I can't wait until Friday :)

When it Comes to Life....

There is something that my father always tells me... That I always seem to forget until he says it again

"Just remember, dear, like everything else... this too shall pass."

I have finally gotten to an age where I do not begrudge my father for being right. I am more towards the age where I know I will be lost without him being there to tell me when I am wrong...


If one thing is for certain, it is that nothing ever is.... that is what my father is always trying to impress upon me. That you cannot cling to much of anything... only savor it for what it is in that moment.... because odds are that it will change in the blink of an eye.... everything shall pass.


Fittingly enough, when it comes to his daughters.... we both crave certainty.... Nothing makes my sister or I more anxiety ridden when there is uncertainty in our lives.



You can tell me that: my identity has been stolen, I have stage 4 cancer, my boyfriend has left me, and my cat has been run over....... I can handle that..... I can not handle being told "we don't know".


There is something in me that tells me that this is my great lesson in life... A lesson that my father has impressed upon me as being of the utmost importance in my life... To just let things be


I am trying.... The last couple of days.... I am trying


Just to get my strength back.... to fight through the fog and the uncertainty and to focus on that which is certain

• laundry will always exist
• my daughter will always challenge my resolve
• cooking (onions will always turn translucent if you put them over medium heat with salt)
• that my boyfriend is there when I go to sleep and when I wake up
• that I have a few friends who still answer their phones when they find time
• few things bring me greater joy than learning something about the human condition

I am trying....

I didn't skip breakfast or lunch today.... that's a decent start...

*sigh*


I really do hate feeling like I am back to the beginning again....

Remember, dear..... this too shall pass

What it Feels Like

I am still grasping at straws and trying to make some sort of sense out of what is happening. I don't like this feeling. I really really don't....


I feel as though so many aspects of my self are on mute... They are paused or frozen or somehow paralyzed... I don't quite know how to explain it

I also don't quite understand where exactly this complete lack of motivation or caring has come from. It isn't like me.... but it seems to be all encompassing lately.

Few things are really getting me excited or enthused or even interested. My mind is constantly a million miles away and it isn't really settling on anything. I don't feel like I can focus or like I really even want to.


I only feel motivated by necessity when the right combination for factors collide. Even then, it feels somehow false...

There is no hunger... no thirst... everything that I have to do seems boring and trite. I feel like a god damn cry baby right now; but this is where I am at and I need to get to the fucking bottom of it.


When I close my eyes and try to clear my thoughts... there is no peace... it is just this sense of throbbing pulse... it isn't pressing or urgent or inspiring... just irritating and I want it to stop..


That is something that really bothers me. That feeling or sense that I just want it all to stop. That I want to throw all of the obligations and the burdens and the weight off of my shoulders. Feeling like I am cracking... That some little drop of poison has stayed hidden beneath all of the wounds that I thought I had healed so well.... only to break through them all over again when I least expected it


I tell myself that I will eventually feel better... that I will get back on top of it... that I will suddenly be me again... just as suddenly as I realized that I wasn't....

Yet, I am struck with this sense of fear that I never really have had a grasp on who I am for long enough to really know what is real and what isn't...... As though I have been kidding myself for the last few years.....


That I was trying to prove it to my self just as much as I was trying to prove it to everyone else


Only to realize that I worked my ass off and didn't prove much to myself at all.



I feel this huge upwelling of pain... In this moment... I am not sure where it is coming from or why it is coming right now.... but it is

There is that hot sting in my eyes and that lump in my throat and I don't know what is causing it and that is perhaps what makes it worse.


I feel that disconnect again. That sudden realization that I have somehow allowed the fragile inroads between my mind, heart, and body become overgrown. That the connections are weak and need work.



I am afraid.


Of a lot of things...








I feel broken. I feel like I have forgotten so much of what it takes for me to do what needs to be done. I feel like I let my guard down for that little bit too long. I feel like I am suddenly fighting that voice in my head every minute and it is taking everything that I have...

I am afraid that it has happened at just the right time to really fuck things up.... I don't want that. I really really don't.... Yet, I can't seem to get myself up off of this couch to do much of anything about it... I lost the tears and I needed to cry.


fck

These Are My Confessions

I have been bouncing the idea of doing a post like this around in my head for the last few days. My final thoughts on it are that I need to do it in order to maintain the legitimacy of what this blog is about. That being said, this will not be an uplifting or heartwarming blog. However, it will be honest.


About 6 or 7 weeks ago, something inside of me started to unravel. I can spend time beating around the bush and hypothesizing what caused it.... But I would rather just spit it out at this point. I started to slip. It had been at least a year (if not more) since I had had any slips to speak of.... Suddenly, I was just slipping and sliding and I couldn't really grab a hold of anything. In the last several weeks, I have had about a half to a dozen episodes, I have restricted, I have used aids.... I have fallen right back into all of the old habits that I thought were years behind me.... I blinked and I was suddenly unaware of who or what I was anymore.

The unfortunate thing about it is that I felt trapped in it. I feel trapped in it. I feel as though actually saying how bad it got somehow removes all legitimacy from everything that it is that I have every written or said about recovery. So, I didn't....

That just made it worse. Feeling like I was somehow fraudulent. As though everything about me and what I stood for was somehow being obliterated every single time I turned away from a bag of chips or ate an entire one.

That is an awful feeling.


It dragged me straight back into that vicious cycle that we all know too well. Into the self-doubt and the self-loathing and the depression and the paralyzing anxiety. Into foul moods and repeatedly failing to act. Which is an act in and of itself.

I opted to hide.

I didn't seek social situations. I didn't blog. I didn't do my school work. I didn't do much with my daughter. I didn't return phone calls. I didn't follow up on appointments or responsibilities. I hosted a pity party for one. Then I just put on a happy face anytime I was forced to.

I lost my authenticity.... something that I have taken great pride and identity from over the last few years.

I lost my drive, my passion.... something that has kept my head above water.

In many ways I just let go of myself.... of the self that I have created and strengthened over nearly half a decade..... I just let go and allowed all of the vile thoughts from ED back in....

"You are not enough"
"You can't eat that"
"You are fat"
"You are a failure"
"You are an awful mother"
"You are a terrible girlfriend"
"You will never become anything"
"You have no real purpose"
"You are a fraud"
etcetera etcetera etcetera


I am trying to remember what it is that I am supposed to do to get out of this. I haven't had a slip like this in about 2 years.... meaning repeated slips that creep towards diagnosis.... something that I never ever thought I could even come close to again.

I feel shaken. I feel uprooted. I feel like I don't know where to begin. Or where to end.

I know that there is one thing that made a critical difference when I began to recover that I have stopped doing.... one thing that I push onto everyone else and have become afraid of doing again....

Journaling.....

I don't mean blogging.... This is written for the eyes of others. I do my best to be transparent and forthright. However, knowing that it is out there for all to see tends to inhibit me from going down paths that I know I would go down with pen and paper.

There is something wonderful about putting a pen to paper.....

I used to write everything by hand.... Now I only sign checks and fill out paperwork once every few months.... Or take exams at about the same interval.... Everything is typed.


I looked at my old journal from MNV a few weeks ago. The pages were textured from the pressure of my handwriting. From the passion that cam out of me and into the pen and onto the paper.

That is the only place that I know where to begin again... journaling... writing... looking into the dark places that scare me... instead of hiding from them.

I apologize for letting you all down.... It plagues me.

Soooo.... Now What?...

There is this strange thing that seems to be going on inside of my heart and my mind lately..... It is really, really, really weird.... It seems to be trying to convince that.... I don't know how to say this....

It will be ok. It will all work out. Everything is going where it needs to.... Relax.... RELAX!!

Problem is that I am pretty much incapable of relaxing.... it is like trying to understand what Mitt Romney's actual policies are.... There is just no understanding it.... I am.... FUBAR


Alright, so.... what is it that has sparked this sudden and paralyzing fear of "okness"?


I finally got to hear what everybody wants to hear someday.....

Or at least every female.......................




I got to hear sincerity in the voice of the man that I am completely in love with. Sincerity as he expressed his desire to live happily ever after.....

Not pretty lies......Beautiful truths.....


It is mind baffling.


ME?!?!


But whyyyyyyyyyyyyy??


I am:

• moody
• messy
• needy
• clingy
• loud
• spoiled
• overly talkative
• out of touch with reality
• loaded with baggage
• demanding
• critical
• perfectionistic
• controlling
• caught up in my own little world 99.99999% of the time
• oblivious
• did I mention needy??

I literally had to call my therapist and ask her how I am supposed to handle this.


Let me put that another way....

I called my therapist because I didn't know what to do with being told that I was everything that somebody else ever wanted.....

I suppose that I should add "lunatic" onto that list somewhere....


Believe it or not.... this is where shit gets really interesting....




I allow myself to sit with it.... 

I pushed all of the doubt and fear and "what if's" out of my mind and let myself see it.... the whole fucking picture..... the funky house and the kids and the jobs and the themed parties and the traveling.... the waking up in the middle of the night at the exact same moment just to snuggle closer.... the Happily Ever After

And.... for once..... it actually seemed plausible...... not just possible.... plausible.... probable.... like it actually made sense.... that it wasn't just emotionally charged day dreams.... but common sense, too.


Holy fuck balls. 


I found him.........

Now what?!?!?!


Oh right...... I have next to NO idea what I want to do with my life.....

That's right, people..... I allow myself to accept that my personal life is actually doing just fine and I am suddenly right back in crisis mode over my academic and professional life............

*facepalm*


But wait.... there's more!

I actually have the balls to kiiiiiiiinda tell him this.... which in me talk translates to sending him a slew of text messages about my being panicked over my future career path and him taking me out and me saying one very critical sentence:

"I am so used to pushing my school and everything else aside because I feel like my romantic relationship is going to kill me if I don't focus on it.... Now, It's like ok... my relationship is just fine... what the fuck am I going to do about the rest of my life?!? It's a shit show!"

I think I paraphrased a bit there.... But, he just laughed as he watched me express my anxiety through animated hand gestures and facial expressions that consistently included my eyes bugging out of my skull...... 



So now.... A week after all of this has hit..... I am sitting in the library... with a midterm tomorrow.... and I can't bring myself to study.... I am still listless and lost and I don't know what the fuck I am going to do about it..... I don't have an end goal to propel me..... Just a feeling of obligation

That isn't exactly motivational....

I know that this is the right field for me.... I have no doubts about that.... I just don't know where I will go or what I will do in it.... I can't possibly figure that out any time soon and I need to keep doing my thing and nailing these classes to the wall.... but I just can't fucking get myself geared up.....

I was kind of hoping that writing might help.... It didn't

blech.....................

Crisis of Faith

I know... I am abysmal at posting lately.... I will get back into the flow of it.... I have just been hibernating on a psychological level for the last several weeks.

I have been avoiding doing much of anything to be completely honest with you.

I haven't read.
I haven't written.
I haven't journaled.
I haven't done yoga.
I haven't exercised much of any interest in anything.... at all....

I feel.... muted.

That is actually a really good word for it: muted.

It is as though I am putting everything on mute. My fears, my desires, my passions... I have pretty much been abstaining from everything but sleep, sex, and food.

I am more than a bit ashamed of myself.

I feel as though I have lost this passion that was so strong within me for so long.

I was talking to O yesterday and for the first time I vocalized what I have been thinking for a few weeks now

"I don't think that I want to have much of anything to do with eating disorders anymore. I think that I may actually be ready to close that chapter in my life."

The trick now is to figure out what the new one will be....

I was talking to my therapist today and I told her that I really didn't know what to do with myself....

My relationship is phenomenal.
My custody battle is over for the near and forseeable future.
I am in a grad school program.
My daughter is doing really well.

Now, I just have to refocus on myself.


Somehow, over the last several months.... I just lost that focus.

I zeroed in on everyone else's problems and allowed new problems to develop for myself.

I find myself in this bizarre state of paralysis. Something that I have not experienced for several years. Something that I do not like where I think that it may be coming from.

I have this nasty habit.... something that I have done for my entire life.... something that seems to happen without me realizing it until it is completely out of control..... it's called co-dependency.

Something that every therapist that I have ever had has told me to look at and I have adamantly refused.   For those who aren't aware.... usually the things that you refuse to work on in therapy are the things that you actually need to.... Fuck.

See, I always took care of my sister as a child. Then I took care of a couple of really close friends in middle school. Then I took care of a mixture of problem friends and boyfriends. Then I took care of pets. Then I took care of my daughter (this is obviously acceptable and normal)..... Now, I am attempting to force myself from starting to take care of O.... it is hard.

I am naturally that type. It is innate. Yet, I am beginning to realize that it is taking on an aspect that I don't like.

Put simply.... I am finding myself doing something that I used to do in my last relationship.... Something that I was kind of forced to do in that one and I am managing to force upon myself in this one.... Waiting.

If there is one sure fire way to make yourself miserable and your partner edgy... It is to wait for them.

Wait until you make plans.
Wait until you cook dinner.
Wait until you go to bed.
Wait until you get dressed.
Wait....... until they tell you what they are doing.


I didn't even realize that I was doing this until last night. Then, I was suddenly stricken with my own stupidity. I am replicating a pattern. I am returning to what I was taught was the normal pattern within a relationship.... that is not actually a normal pattern within a relationship.

*facepalm*

I have now acknowledge the presence of several problems in my life that all have a root cause: unhealthy patterns.

This is where I sit and I think for a few moments about what I have learned in my decade+ of therapy and my 4+ years of school....

*jeopardy music plays in my head*



"When you recognize an unhealthy pattern of thought or behavior, then you must do something to alter your typical process"- primary therapist in treatment

This ties into the age old definition of insanity: trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results....

Time to do the whole breaking down the process thing where I have to dig up memories and pin point the optimal point of pattern interruption

*jeopardy music again*

 So, anytime that I used to recognize that I was in some way putting someone else's needs ahead of my own.... I usually lashed out at them. I would cancel an actual set of plans to go do something with someone else and be nasty and harsh with the person without ever explaining it.... Only to eventually have them ask me wtf was wrong with me and for me to revert to the initial state of placating them and ignoring myself...... Not good.


So, now I interrupted the pattern....

Although I already knew the answer to the question.... I needed to challenge all of those hidden layers of unconscious doubt and blame.... I asked my boyfriend a really dumb question.... If he would mind if I went out when he was here..... "not even a little bit"

AHA!

Proof!

I am, for the first time in my conscious memory, able to go and do something for myself without having to worry about the implications that it may have on my critical relationship.

Love and affection is not dependent upon my being docile, reliable, and constantly accessible.... I don't need to make my plans around someone else in order to maintain that love and affection.... Being considerate is enough.


Mind=Blown






Time to get on with my day..... :)

The Important Thing to Remember....

Well.... It was a hellish month. It is over now and I don't mean to dwell on it.

I quit my job today. I hated it there. The coworkers were great and so were the clients but the boss was an ass and a half and there was no end in sight to the daily debauchery that was sucking my life force. So, I am back to the drawing boards and attempting to clarify what my calling in life is.


I need to write. I must write. Everyday I think of things to say and I rarely make the time. It is something that won't stop plaguing my conscience until I have my book bound and in my hands. I need to allow this reality to settle in and simply make the time to do it. Screw finding a bullshit job to fill up my time. I need to write.

"You have a lot of things to say... and the world needs to hear them."

My primary told me that when I was in treatment. That was over 4 years ago and it is seared into my memory. I remember her look of intensity when she told me that. I remember her leaning forward in her chair to get my attention.


So, what do I have to say that the world needs to hear?

I am not sure. I have about a million ideas floating around in my mind. I could probably write a dozen books with all of the pitches that I throw at myself. Yet, I have settled on one and I need to devote myself to that cause.

It scares me a little. To truly write out my story....

I wonder if it will be as earth shattering as I have been lead to believe. I wonder if it will trigger me. I wonder if it will trigger others. I wonder if it will close this chapter of my life and leave me with such an excess of closure that I don't know what to do with the next 50 some odd years.

I won't know until I try....

The important thing to remember is....


"Tomorrow is another day!"-Scarlet O'Hara

Rough Patches

I had a difficult day yesterday. It was emotionally and psychologically draining. Yet, I still managed the day in a way that would have previously been impossible for me to do.

I still manage to enjoy my haircut and a girl's night. I feasted on sushi and saki ad gelato. I went to see the new batman movie and turned in for some necessary R&R.

I managed to take care of myself after a day that would have sent me into a tailspin 5 years ago.

I even got up and at em this morning to pack my life up for the move. I am pulling myself together to go out with my boyfriend and be social....

My life is rolling along as always.

I am just fine.



That is something which cannot be undervalued.

It is truly a wonder for me to behold. That I am able to function like a "normal" person.

It hasn't been perfect. I have been short with O and I have been scattered and flakey. I have been frazzled and angsty. Yet, I have eaten and I have kept from breaking down (though I came close)....

I share this because I want those of you who are struggling to know that if you do the work and you try your best everyday... Then a day will come when you can handle the worst without spiraling out of control :)

Peace Love and Strength

I Want to Kill a Bitch

I am doing my best to rally inner strength and confidence but I am failing. I get twenty more minutes to center myself and I don't really know how to do it.

I have been sitting in a room sandwiched between my lawyer and a court reporter while my ex and his shithead of an attorney sit across from me. I get to be interrogated about my quality as a mother and how and why I have come to the decisions that I have about how to raise her.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs that her father didn't even want me to have her that he kicked us out when she was 6 weeks old. That I have worked my ass off to take care of and provide for her while he sits around and gets high. That he hasn't contributed shit to raising her.

I can't though....

I have to do my best to answer questions without losing my head.

I have to remember that I need to put her best interests in front of my pride.

I have to remember that nothing will ever convince either my ex or the attorney that I always have and always will do what is best for her.

I can scream in the car.

I can call my therapist.

I can do my best to center myself.

I need to stop giving him the satisfaction of upsetting me.

Fuck him.


I know an everyone that knows me knows the truth of the matter.

I will never convince them, so why try....?


Time to pee n scream and get back to being bad ass.....


I hope

Send me strength??

Full Circle

The interesting thing about life is that it tends to be cyclical. At least for me. Which, I have had an eating disorder. So, cyclical stuff tends to attract me ;)

In all seriousness, I am beginning to notice a certain level of consistency and predictability in my life. Shocking, I know. Things are beginning to happen in such a way that they do not catch me off guard and/or throw me off balance. In essence, I am cycling through a certain series of events that are relatively familiar to me even if the details are the same.

The Big Circle

I was going to sign my daughter up for ballet classes. I know. I know. Dance academies are infested with eating disorders and negative body image. I did it as a child and I can still remember the frail instructors and the little girls pinching in the mirrors that were all around. It is nightmarish. Well, my daughter desperately wants to do it. I found one of those Groupon deals and decided to give it a try. Thankfully, you had to go into the place to fill out paperwork before you brought the child in for classes. All three of the women that were there (2 of which were instructors and 1 was a student/receptionist) were seriously underweight. I pretended that I was looking for another business. I will eat the $69 on that "deal" and spare my 3 year old from that kind of exposure.

I also took her to Disneyland this past weekend. It was ermmmm difficult to say the least. The days were long and hot and the sun was beating down on us and my toddler was kicking the ground or rolling on it in protests to the "happiest" place on earth.  I can vividly remember leaving Disneyland at around 6 years old (my sister was probably 3) and my mother saying "We are NOT coming back here again until both of you are old enough to appreciate it!" and we didn't.... In fact, I don't think that I ever went back to Disneyland with my mother. I went in high school a couple of times. At any rate, I can remember telling D as we left the park on Sunday "Don't worry honey, next time we come back you will be big enough to go on more of the rides."

Now, don't get the misinformed impression that I handled the situation of my demonized toddler at Disneyland with dignity and grace. I did my best. But, I will admit that I resorted to a mental breakdown in the women's restroom at the Rainforest Cafe after my daughter had to be taken outside (after having already been in time out) for kicking the table. To which my darling daughter responded by saying "Will you be happy if I give you a hug, Mama?" "No, I will be happy when you behave." "Ummmmm Will you be happy if I give youuuu ummm FIVE hugs?".... I managed to laugh and sob simultaneously. And yes, I was sitting on the toilet in the handicap stall throughout this. Motherhood is all about multitasking people. You don't get to just have a mental breakdown.... You have to at least pee while you do it.

The Relationship Circle

There is this funny thing about relationships... They tend to run on a pretty brutal schedule. At least with regards to the issues that are discussed and the way in which they are handled. The deal breakers tend to evolve as the relationship evolves. The conversations will inevitably center around similar topics at any given point and in any relationship. Here is the general time line:

0-1 Month: Is the sex good?
1-3 Months: What do we have to talk about? Do I like their friends? Can I tolerate them while intoxicated? Is the sex still good? Do they belong to a cult? Do they seem to have any issues that may have escaped my notice while we were having sex?
3-6 Months: Is this worth the time investment? Do we have the same values? Who are the girls/guys that they hang out with? Do I think they can be committed? Can I be committed? Is the sex still good? Does my family like them? Do we have the same views on marriage and children?

Now the interesting thing about these first three stages is that you are more than willing to accept moderately satisfactory answers. There are certain things that you can shrug off and say that you will "cross that bridge when you get there". The next few stages are about getting to those bridges and deciding to cross them.

6-9 Months: There is generally some suspicion about fidelity surfacing in here somewhere. The novelty has worn off and odds are that you have seen each other pee and smelled their farts. You are now human, not merely sexy. However, it is definitely still critical to maintain the sex. Always maintain the sex. I hate when women downplay the importance of their and/or their partner's sexual satisfaction in a relationship. Anyway, tangent... There is also the resurfacing of those marriage and family concerns. You really start to look at whether or not you can see your life unfolding with this person. You may start to point out the areas that are bothersome a bit more. What was satisfactory at 4 months is no longer satisfactory at 7 months.... that is a lot closer to a year!

9-12 Months: This is when the decisions to cross the bridge begin. If you are going to commit over a year of your life to someone, then you need to know that they have the potential to go the distance. The nit picking and the discussions about moving in will ensue. The fine tuning of "how would you raise children" and "how many children" and the other logistics begin to get hashed out. You are, in all honesty, checking your bases to make sure that you haven't managed to miss a reason to leave. You have obviously found plenty of reasons to stay. Are they the right reasons to continue to stay? Are they valid and do they have longevity?

Now, these two are the most challenging stages in a relationship. You both obviously care about each other. You wouldn't be around for 6 months if you didn't. You also care about yourselves. It is painful to have the hard conversations. To discuss the things that may not result in the answers that you want to hear. These things force you to look at your own views and to truly question them in relation to your significant other's. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, though. If you have these hard talks and you make it through to the year, then you can carry on in relative peace and confidence. You will know whether or not you have found The One or not. You will then be able to live in the moment and not in fear of what the future will hold. Yes, certain topics will be revisited. The big ones like marriage and children will continue to come up even after you "check them of the list". Yet, you will know the basics and have the foundation. Everything else will just be for the sake of clarification and growing with the current state of affairs.


The curious thing here is that I have gone through two previous "serious long-term relationships". Unfortunately, I went about them the wrong way. I never ever ever had it in my mind that I would be capable of leaving if anything turned up that I was not satisfied with. I didn't stay because I was happy. I stayed because I was not able to leave. I had some of these talks; but not most. The ones that I did have, I did not have in the right way. I also did not pay much attention to the answers. I didn't put much weight behind them. I just went through the motions. I never actually evaluated whether or not the relationship was something that I wanted.

That is not the case this time around the block. Maybe the trite saying of "third time's the charm" is applicable here. Maybe I have just grown up and into myself enough to be confident in my ability to survive were I to break things off. At any rate, I have never shied away from asking O about anything and everything. Nor have I ever shied away from telling him the truth about where I stand on anything and everything. I have given myself time to think about things. I have gathered my thoughts over periods of hours, days, weeks, and/or months.

There have been a few times where we have really disagreed. Where subjects have been put on and off the table. There have been things that I have had to hash out with friends and my therapist and my journal in order to determine where I stand on them. There have been things that he has had to weigh and evaluate on his own. It hasn't necessarily been easy or 100% pleasant. Yet, as we creep past 8 months, I am becoming more and more confident that we have longevity. Something that I have never really felt before.

The Recovery Circle

This is something that I have only experienced vicariously in recent weeks. However, it is something that I am very much familiar with from many years ago. It always starts and ends in the same place: body image.

This is something that I haven't really talked about in a while. My mentee brought it up with me recently and it gave me cause to sit and pause and really think about how I have handled the body image piece of recovery in recent months.

Truth? There are plenty of days that I am not 100% satisfied with how my body looks and/or feels.
Truth? I do not let that feeling impair my functioning or effect my eating or physical activity.
Truth? I don't know when I will consistently be happy with my body from every angle.
Truth? I am perfectly ok with that because I have much more important things to occupy me.
Truth? I am still guilty of wishing I had bigger tits, a tighter ass, firmer thighs, and flatter abs.
Truth? I still just do my yoga (once a week... if I remember) and I still eat ice cream.
Truth? I am confident in the reality that I will perpetually want more and find a way to be content with what I have... I was never content when I was X pounds and X sizes less than I am now.
Truth? Whatever negative thoughts I have are fleeting and easy to forget.

This is the harsh reality about recovering from the body image piece of an eating disorder. It is the last piece to go, if it ever does. There are plenty of people who function normally and don't have any problems with behaviors... but they still don't like their reflection. It is sad. It does suck. BUT it sucks less than my eating disorder did.

It is something that I have just come to terms with. I don't really allow it to penetrate or to bother me. I do my best to avoid places and people that would make me hyper conscious of the underlying dissatisfaction. I don't go to a gym. I don't go to a yoga studio. I don't go to tanning salons. I don' talk with people about food, dieting, or weight. I don't have any friends who are "health nuts". I just have done my best to change my lifestyle so that I do not have to confront the body image piece on an hourly basis. Maybe once a week or for that one week out of the month will I be aware of this lingering issue.

Now, please do not misread this to think that I am miserable with my body and I can't stand to look at myself. That isn't true at all. There are far more days now, than ever in my life, that I like my body than that I hate my body. I love my waist and my calves and my back and my shoulders and my ass and my thighs. I love my female form. I know the power that it has and the purpose that it serves in my life. I love to accentuate my figure. I love to really work it when I am having a feel good day. The reality is that most days I just don't think about it. The days that I do, it is either that I love it or that I wish it was better in this area or that. There really isn't that deep distaste that there was when I was in my disorder. There isn't that masochistic relationship with my body. I appreciate it. I don't put more weight (ba dum chi) on it than is necessary. I do not equate my value with my body's size or shape. They are separate issues now.


These are some of the things that have come to light for me recently. I hope that you all can appreciate them for what they are and gain some insight into your own lives. Never underestimate the impact of introspection. It is the most valuable tool that you have in recovery. Especially when it is combined with a journal.

Peace, Love, & Strength :)

Insomniac Anonymous

I didn't go to sleep until after 4 am last night/this morning. I got into bed at 9 pm. That means that I spent 7 hours in sleepless turmoil. Fretting and sweating over all of the things that I have to do and don't think that I can ever accomplish.

Well, there is some truth to that. I can't accomplish them if I don't freaking sleep. Now can I?

Aside from the usual things that come up for me in these sporadic nights of insomnia (i.e. homework, chores, errands, shaving my legs), some interesting things surfaced last night.

Apparently, the whole notion that women go baby crazy in their mid twenties is 100% legit. Not to mention when they have a toddler or are in a new relationship. What'd ya know, I am suffering from all three of these hormone inducing lifestyle "choices"!


I know that plenty of you are probably like wtf missy, you already have one kid and you are only 25! You have a shit ton of time before you worry about this. Well, that would be true if you were talking about anyone but me. I am the most efficient worrier known to man. I worry about things years in advance. It makes it much easier for me to be in a constant state of heightened panic about how things may or may not go horribly wrong. It also keeps me hyper-vigilant of potential pit falls.

For instance, that my current boyfriend has been fixed. And that I really don't see any other potential pit fall between us... Now, that will keep you up at night.


I am partially proud and partially mortified that I actually brought this concern up to him this morning. Also, my apologies sweetheart for bringing you into this so frequently of late... I promise, there is a point here.

It served as further "evidence" of his and my powers of communication. Even in our mutual states of exhaustion and distraction, we were able to discuss this potentially traumatic topic.

I will admit that I was slightly passive in my raising the topic. I didn't really want to go there at 8:43am when he was just arriving at work and I was barely what could be called conscious. However, I was bordering on the idea of shutting my phone off until we went on a trip with the kids this weekend to process it on my own. This is typically a warning sign that I am feeling internally threatened and terrified... So, I should probably just rip the damn band aid off and not delay the inevitable. Not to mention make him panicked and unreceptive in my unexplained absence.

I did the mature thing and rambled off a list of things that had kept me up all night and "discreetly" tucked the "and I am terrified that I will never get married n have children" in there. Ha! Anybody who reads that and doesn't recognize that it needs to be discussed would be a complete moron and, coincidentally, one of my ex boyfriends.

To which he awed and dazzled me by sending a very poetic response about how wonderful I am in a million different ways... but that he couldn't help me when it came to kids. I knew that I was in for a penny, in for a pound at this point and decided to hit the fuck it button "You're very sweet... but I want kids... sigh".

May the unnamed higher power bless him for his patience.

We then went through the paces where I explained my position and he explained his. He got defensive for a hot second and so did I. Then, in some magical mind ninja moment.... I realized where he was coming from and that it had absolutely no bearing on what a life would be like with me. Just as I have continually had to realize over and over again that any of my prior learning when it comes to men is irrelevant with him. He must recognize that the same is true when it comes to me and other women. Then, we both got a little bit of closure and the topic was closed for the next ohhhh I don't know... month to three months depending on how busy I am and how many nights I lose sleep.


Now, to the real point(s) here.

1) Secondary gains.
2) Mommy issues.

When I was in my disorder and smoking and dating assholes... Well, this conversation would have never occurred. What would have occurred?

Simply put? I would have bit my tongue for the next three months, treated my body and my boyfriend like shit, and eventually blown up at him for not understanding me after he found me throwing up and stoned out of my mind.

Essentially, it isn't pretty.

The way that I used to deal with things like this was that I didn't.

My eating disorder served the secondary gain of helping me to keep these things bottled up inside of me. Of keeping me from saying the things that I was sure would send my "loved ones" running to the hills. Of helping me to stay so out of my mind that I was truly and completely incapable of remembering for very long just what I was upset about. It would resurface over and over again. Every time that it did, I would turn to my disorder or a bowl to help me repress and deny it back down into the inky depths of my mind.

That obviously worked just honky dory in the short term. In the long term?

It was a god damned shit show.


I ended up staying in a relationshit that was 100% built on our own presumptions and 0% on communication.  I stayed because I didn't allow myself to have the discussions that would force me to leave or to overtly accept the things that he did.  I wasn't strong enough for that. This leads back into my last post which centered around having the ability to be who you are and saying fuck all to the people who didn't like it. Or, more precisely, in fostering the kind of person you want to be and allowing the people that have a problem with it to go.

Now, I have no interest in the short term. I am interested in the big picture. I know most of what I want out of life and I am quickly figuring out the rest. I have no desire to suppress any of the things that I have decided are important to me. I will do it the right way or not at all.

Even if that is the hard way.

Alright, now... On to the hard part. The mommy issues. Oof.

My mother was not exactly the greatest mother. I have been over this a few times. She tried really hard when we were young; but, then she just disappeared. As a result, I wrestled with the idea of motherhood for a very long time.

I went through phases.

I was terrified that I would make the same mistakes and was determined to never have children and instead focus on a career.

I was angry and thought that I could be a good mother but was terrified that I would make the same mistakes and decided that I should just have a career.

I was depressed and decided that I never wanted a child to feel that kind of pain at the loss of their mother so I decided that I should never have one. Seeing as I was terrified and should just have a career.

I spent a good part of my 5 weeks in treatment discussing my mommy issues and what it meant to me. It's a good thing because I got pregnant right after I left.

I was hormonal and terrified and didn't have a career and didn't want the baby to hate me.

I got post-partum and my baby daddy left me high and dry because he couldn't make the changes that I was bound and determined to make in an effort to prove that I could be a responsible mother and that my baby wouldn't hate me.

This inevitably lead to me having to get a job and remaining terrified and distant from my baby who looked like her asshole father's clone. Something that breaks my heart every day. Not that she looks like him. Just that I allowed that to get in the way of my holding her sometimes.

During her first year or two of life, I promised myself that it would be different the next time. That I would be in a good place and with a good man and that I would be able to be the kind of mother that I knew I was capable of being. 

Then, I hit this place when she was about two or so that I decided I didn't have it in me. That I just wasn't meant for that. That I should just be a career woman and do my best to focus on my daughter. That I would put my all into providing for her and raising her and then have my 40s and on to myself.

I convinced myself that I was selfish.... For less than a year.

Having such a difficult time with motherhood has sort of made it my deep wound in life. It has made it something that I will struggle with until I feel that I have done it right. I don't know if that means having another child or being able to adopt or simply being able to be the mother I want to be for the rest of my daughter's life.... No idea.

I just know that I still have not achieved peace in this.

I will always seek peace.

Positive Polly Inspiration

Last night my boyfriend made a painfully accurate observation of the fact that I tend to post more when things are going wrong than when they are going right. I feel that I must now admit to you all my emo roots.

Back in high school, I wrote painfully depressing poems about love and death. I also wore a lot of eyeliner and cut my wrists. Essentially, I was the definition of a upper middle class caucaisian girl who wanted to have something to rebel about. So, I chose to be overly depressed and emotional.

I am ashamed to admit that I am still far more inspired by chaos and trauma than I am by the normally paced fluidity of a happy life. Yet, I take solace in the fact that Edgar Allan Poe was never viewed as a Positive Polly. I should probably check my facts, but I am pretty sure that he was one of those who didn't experience much recognition during his own life.

Hang on.... I shall Wiki it.

Ok, I take it back. "The Raven" was apparently quite successful. However, he did die at the age of 40 from unknown causes. Wiki lists and exorbitantly long list of possible causes. Point is, he stayed tragic because his life was tragic. I don't really want to lead a tragic life.

In fact, the real purpose of this blog is to highlight how my somewhat tragic beginnings have provided the insight that I deem as necessary for a rosy future. Or at least to discuss how I am no longer completely dismayed about what will become of me.

Truth be told, I tend to have one or two post ideas everyday about how I view things differently. Unfortunately, these ideas tend to flee from my mind in the wake of my toddler crying or the dryer chiming that it is time for me to fold yet another load of laundry.

So, I am faced with a bit of a dilemma.

Do I post only when I feel truly driven to discuss something of the utmost importance? Or, do I make more of a concerned effort to blog every other day or so about the things that I am recognizing in passing?



Well, I can hope that I will do that latter. It is my hope. I just don't know if I will be able to stick to it.

I think that is one thing that I can dedicate a few minutes to talking about: commitment.


I think that I have previously discussed my deep seeded trust issues. If not, I will sum up quickly. I pretend to trust... But, in reality, I am expecting everyone to either die or stab me in the back in such a way that would make me want to die. I am sure that plenty of you can relate to this sentiment without further information.

Well, when you don't really trust anybody you tend to come up with reasons to be the first one to bail. Am I right?

You would rather hurt than be hurt?

It is kind of a basic survival instinct that seems to manifest itself in weird ways now that we rarely need it in life or death situations.

So, you fear people but you crave them. You want to commit; but, you are inherently terrified of what that really means for you. It is the constant back and forth that goes on inside to the point that can drive you crazy. Often times, it actually does.

Well, when I was very sick. When I was weak and depressed and engaging in behaviors and smoking weed and not doing much of anything valuable with my life... I drove myself crazy with these ridiculous trust/abandonment issues.

I would start fights with friends because I felt inadequate. I would make mountains out of molehills.  It was inevitable that I would misinterpret a long pause between text messages to mean that they were ignoring me or didn't really like me as a person in the first place.

This was primarily because I hated myself on a level that was harder to accept than that everyone else didn't like me.

The reality was that I was actually quite nice to people. I was a bit emotional; but, I was always kind and loving. I always offered to help. Often over extending myself to points that I need not elaborate. It suffices to say that there were days where I drove two separate friends to and from work and helped another write a paper. I never did my stuff, it was always other people's.

This fed into the idea that I was worthless. I repeatedly blew off my responsibilities in an attempt to prove to others that I was a good person. That I was an asset to them.

Unfortunately, I never tried to become an asset to myself.


Eventually, I wised up and started to be selfish. This was around the time that I was breastfeeding and felt that I deserved to be. After all, if my body wasn't mine, than at least my time should be.

 Gradually, I started to do things for myself. I started to work and get good grades and take care of myself and my daughter on a soulful level. I fostered trust in myself. I let other people down. I lost more people. Yet, I tend to think that they were worth losing if they begrudged my doing that which I needed to do. My ex falls into this category for anyone who was wondering.

The first person that I actually committed myself fully to was my daughter. I will grant anyone that there isn't much fear of rejection from an infant. However, it was more meaningful in that I began to trust that I wouldn't let her down.

You see, that is what those of us with abandonment and trust issues must learn to accept: ourselves. That we are the ones who have perpetuated the cycle of distrust. That it is our rejection of our selves that prevents us from truly connecting with others.

In the last four years, I have made and lost an equal number of friends. It has been a bit trying. I am still rebuilding my support network. However, I am looking for pillars not matchsticks.

I think that it becomes easier to accept that someone won't leave you once you recognize that you are not someone that you would want to leave.

If you are who you want, then surround yourself with those you want. I can guarantee that you will be proud of the results.

Peace Love Strength.

Houston... We Have Contact!

Drum Roll puhhhlease!


I got a job at an ED/Substance Abuse IOP!! Wooot Woot! And it is right around the corner from my new apartment!

Now, before you get tooo excited... I will not be doing any therapy work. I actually got a position as a Sales Rep. Meaning that I will be going out and talking to other healthcare professionals, schools, clinics etc about the facility. This is not my dream come true. However, I will finally feel as though I am actually having a measurable impact on the community's awareness with regards to eating disorders and treatment options.

It is about time. My 4th Discharge-Aversary is coming up next week. In fact, it may be the day that I start the job. Doo doo doo doo. 

I have been trying for the last several years to get myself to a point where I actually feel confident in entering the professional realm of eating disorder treatment. I have spent over a decade in the community as a patient. I spent the last few years trying to gradually recede from that identity so as to return in a more impactful form.

I guess you can say that I am trying to be a bit of a hungry caterpillar. I spent 7 years going around and gobbling up whatever I could find. Sometimes, I spat it out. Other times, I digested it. Finally, I had gathered enough knowledge to sustain myself throughout my transformation. I wound myself up in a cocoon of recovery and introspection. Now, I feel as though I have finally transformed all of that inner nourishment into the beautiful form of a deeply colorful butterfly. I am ready to flit about and share what I can with those who are willing to listen.

It is so remarkable to me that I am halfway to my own practice. That I am actually succeeding at taking all of the necessary steps to achieve my goal. I have finally found my lot in life. In so many ways. There is so much peace that comes with that. There is still a lot of apprehension. Mostly, there is an incredible amount of security and confidence.

I am a bit nervous about taking on a job along with a full load of courses, a new apartment, and sole responsibility of my daughter in the next month. However, I am also aware that it will not all happen at once. I start the job next week. I move into my place in 2 weeks. Which, it isn't as though I am moving to the other side of the globe. In a lot of ways, I will be much closer to my support network.  Then, I have a full month to settle in before classes start up again. It will be a bit chaotic. Thankfully, I feed off of being busy. I get so much more done with less time on my hands. There is definitely some psychology behind that.

Alas, I skipped my therapy appointment last week to take all of the kids to the zoo. She is now on vacation for 2 weeks. So, any clarification on that point will have to wait.

OH OH OH!!!

Before I forget!

I stumbled upon this great app for those of you who find that you suffer from ups and downs with regards to moods and anxiety. It even has a feature that helps you practice thought restructuring! It is a bit pricey; but, I think it is worth it. Very user friendly. It also has a built in journal and goal setter. I would warn some of you that are still struggling with behaviors to not select too many of the healthy eating tips. Remember, there are people out there who are healthy and still need some more beneficial habits. Just don't misuse the tool. Here is the link:MoodKit. My apologies to all of you who still have Crackberries or relic phones.

Moving on to other news.

I have been working off and on with my book. Just blurbs here and there that I am piecing together. Yet, that is not something that is anywhere near ready for the public. Unfortunately, it has been taking up most of my limited free time. So, I truly apologize for my absenteeism from the blogging world.

The most interesting thing about it is that I have not had the need to blog. I really have been kind of coasting when it comes to my life in recent weeks. It isn't that life hasn't been stressful. Just that it hasn't been extraordinarily so. Which, in reality, means that my coping skills have finally improved to a point that makes me capable of handling my life for weeks on end.

This has been incredibly helpful with regards to my relationship.

Sorry O, you had to know that you would pop up in here somewhere.

We have been thrust into this sudden circumstance of being what functions as a "blended family". His two boys (the Cs) got here 6 weeks ago. Add in my little one (D). And voila! We are suddenly functioning as parents of three kids between the ages of 3 and 8. Holy fuckstick batman. What happened to my life and when did it get full of mac n cheese out of the box and finding little socks everywhere!?!

The good news is that we have managed to navigate this could be crisis in a mind blowing example of compromise and modification.  I stepped up to watch them full time. I quickly realized that it would just be too much for me with school and the commuting. He got them a sitter for the days that I had school. We tried to get all of the kids to fall asleep together so that we didn't have to cook separate dinners. We quickly realized that mine was just not ready for that. We backed off and now she is begging for a couple of sleepovers.

We started feeling the lurching agony of losing our time together. Of suddenly only having the hour between their bedtime and ours to cram in any alone time. Which inevitably consisted of us vegging out and drinking wine before crawling into bed out of exhaustion. The beautiful thing about it was that there was no resentment. Nobody was mad at the other. We both did what we had to do and communicated to each other how much we missed our time. We finally got a sitter the last couple of Friday nights. One for each of us to have a boys/girls night out and the other to go out together.

This may not seem all that mind blowing to many of you. However, it is like a freaking mind warp to me! He and I haven't even been dating for 8 months and we have managed to handle what would be considered a major lifestyle change without any blowouts. We haven't bottled shit up either. It isn't like we have duct taped our mouths shut for the duration out of necessity. There have been disagreements. There is just no deep seeded resentment that must surface in a flurry of screams and tears. We actually work things out together.

How is this possible?!?!

Well, I have to give myself a huge pat on the back for losing all fears of honest communication. For actually bringing things up in a way that expresses my concerns without framing it in the context of a major issue. I have never felt safe doing that before. Not in the 8 years of relationships that I went through before now. I never trusted the way that I do with him. Security is a wonderful thing.

My daughter just peed on the floor. Guess it is time to sign off.

Peace Love Strength

Being a Big Girl

Don't lie. We all have this side to us that wants to be taken care of. This scared, helpless and ultimately pathetic aspect of our self that makes us doubt our ability to do anything. Well, if there is one population that has the least amount of control over this element of the self it is the eating disordered and addicted.

Believing that we are helpless and need to be taken care of is reinforced by our maladaptive behaviors which incapacitate us. Thus, we do require all of the help that this little voice tells us that we do. Bottom line is that a secondary gain of our behaviors is that we are taken care of.

Well, what happens when you have decided to get well? When you are in recovery for long enough that you have to put your Big Girl pants on?

C'mon... this is an easy one, folks.



That's right, you guessed it! Some of the other little behaviors that you had begin to rear their ugly head in an attempt to prove that you are still incapable of fending for yourself.

Now, these are not necessarily the primary behaviors that you engaged in while you were still operating under a diagnosis. However, they were present at that time in a sort of supporting role.

Examples??

Somatic symptoms (i.e. fatigue, aches and pains, stomach problems, insomnia)
Anxiety (if you seem panicked, then they will just let you slide)
Quasi acceptable maladaptive behaviors (i.e. over spending, staying up too late, slacking on responsibilities, promiscuity, argumentativeness... you get the idea)

What it amounts to is that you start acting like a 14 year old again. Or, rather, you start acting like you did at the age that your eating disorder or addiction began.

That is a very important thing to remember!

Whenever you stopped dealing with the real world like "normal" people and started to rely upon your drug of choice (be it food, alcohol, or heroine), that is when your emotional growth stopped.

Now, that is not to say that there aren't areas where you are relatively well adapted and (dare I say?) wise. What it means is that when you are faced with situations that you deem as a threat or a crisis, you will revert back to the most advanced behaviors that you have for coping which have not been placed under the umbrella of your diagnosable problems (assuming that you have come far enough to not still have them in the first place).


What, may you ask, has inspired me to revisit this topic?


At the age of 25, I am finally moving out on my own.


Now, it is not that I have never lived outside of the home. I lived with my ex for a few years when we were together. However, I have never actually made the leap of faith to try it all by my onesie.

Granted, it is still somewhere in the book of life that my boyfriend will move in after a few months. It is just that, as of right now, I am doing this on my own. Or at least as on my own as is humanly possible... my Dad has to co-sign for me.

Alas, the realities of living in an economic crisis.

 Well, I have been a basket case and a half the last two weeks or so. Primarily because I have been coming to terms with the fact that I can and must take care of myself. Granted, I didn't really have that kind of complete insight at the time. It took a little while. I mean, I knew I was flipping out about the change; but, I didn't quite tie it back to the perpetual victim complex.


Unnamed higher power bless my boyfriend. I am pretty damned sure that he knew what I was flipping out about this whole time. He took it like a champ. He always does. I think the comment of "I will see it after you are moving in," was what really made me recognize that I am doing it on my own.

This is critically important for me.


I don't need to live on my own for an entire year to get confirmation that I am capable of doing it. For me, it is more about being able to make all of the decisions about it on my own. It is about picking and choosing what I want without over analyzing and worrying myself into a fucking frenzy.

This is easier said than done.

I vacillate from excited to terrified to insecure and then back again.

Thankfully, I am the easiest person to read when I am emotional... So, everyone has been supportive.


I think that is the biggest thing that we must recognize as we go through recovery: just because we are doing it on our own, doesn't mean that we are alone.

Personally, I have abandonment issues that could rival those of orphan Annie. So, add fear of being left to fear of being capable and you have someone who desperately wants to be helpless...


It is great to know that I am nowhere near helpless. That it is just this deep and perpetual fear that I have to continue to confront for the rest of my life. Once I have my panic attacks and my momentary meltdowns, I am ready to take on the world through deciding on a color scheme for my living room.


What do you think about mixing really classic blues with bright pops of coral and mint green and robin's egg blue? I think it would have that energetic sense of tranquility that I am looking for.


This is your walking oxymoron signing off...

Peace, Love & Strength

Triple Threat

When I woke up this morning, I did not realize that it was going to be a day for shifts to occur. There wasn't much about my plans that seemed to be the least bit inclined towards the purposes of introspection. Take daughter to daycare, fill out rental application, pick up sister, spend day with sister before taking her to the airport, give practice couple's assessment, and end it all with drinks & Magic Mike with the wifey. Doesn't seem all too earth shattering to me.

Oh how wrong I was.

I went to CPK with my sister for lunch. We were both famished and it was right across the street from Ikea (which wasn't far from the airport). We ordered an appetizer and salads. Now, my sister's salad was one of those mountainous salads that could feed two to three people. Mine, on the other hand, was one of those modest portion salads that you are supposed to eat in its entirety. Which I did.

Just as I was using the fork to scrape the delicious quinoa and feta remnants from my plate, the waiter in training came by to "check on us".... "Holy smokes were you hungry! Wow! You ate all of that! Is there anything else I can get you? Or are you full now?".... I just stared at him with my jaw hanging and shook my head.

My sister and I just stared at each other for a minute and she finally steals the words out of my mouth:
"Is this real life? Did he really just say that?! How inappropriate!!"
"I know. I mean, can you imagine if I was one of my mentees?? If I was still in my eating disorder?!"
"I know!"
"I mean... I would be bursting into tears right now!!"
"I know! That is just unbelievably appropriate!"

I proceeded to write him a note on the back of a receipt to inform him of the potential damage that he could have caused. I felt that it was my duty to inform him and spread the awareness. Then, just when I was starting to feel a little bit better about my ability to take charge of certain situations... We walked outside....

"Hello ladies! Free 30 day trial to our gym!!"

You have GOT to be fucking kidding me right now.... Where the hell is Ashton Kutcher.... or Justin Beiber.... Who is doing Punk'd these days, again?

Thankfully, Ikea offered us somewhat of a respite from the negative body image propaganda.


We still had time to kill before her flight and decided to venture into the bookstore.

All was well and we proceeded to carry on a psychology driven conversation about children over our overpriced lattes. Which, inevitably, lead us to the restroom. On our way back out through the children's section, a book cover caught my sister's eye. There was a hamburger with the head of a little girl on it. The title read Fatty McPhereson. I was horrified to hear that the description of the book was a story about a girl who grew to own her nickname... Did I mention that it was a children's book?

At this point, I find it necessary to provide full disclosure in that I ate and kept all of my food today with absolutely no problems. Just as I have for the last several months (I honestly can't remember but it has been close to a year since I have had any slips of any kind.... this includes skipping a meal).


I suddenly was stricken by a new burst of purpose about why it is that I am doing all that I am doing. That it is not a closed market. That people are still un or ill informed. I have a lot of work to do.


Oddly, this was overwhelming rather than liberating.


I was worried about how I would get into an apartment and make rent and find a job and pay for daycare and put gas in my car...... How am I going to save the world one fat talk comment at a time?


Then I came home to my boyfriend.


I came home from a night out with my best friend to find my adorable boyfriend passed out, snoring in bed. Apparently his card night with the guys had been successful. I just looked at him and suddenly I knew exactly how I was going to do all of it.


He told me last night that I don't really need any support; but that he will always give it... just to see my smile.... There are rare moments when I don't hate that he is right.


I don't have to worry about what is waiting for me at home. I can count on him to wrap his arms around me and give me that boost that I don't really need. I know that he gets it from me.



I spent two hours watching gorgeous men strip on a giant screen....


None of that was nearly as beautiful as seeing him curled up around the pillow waiting for me to crawl into bed with him.

It is nice to have someone who wants to hold my hand :)

A Wondrous Day

This will be brief as I am posting via iPhone. However, I wanted to share how today has been.

I went into my lawyer's office yesterday to read the 29 page report. I can't reveal much of what it said. However I can say that it was one of the most validating things that I have ever read.

It was not 100% positive with regards to its content about myself or my insignificant other. Yet, nothing that it said was a shock or a blow. I knew everything that it said already. It simply confirmed for me that my faith in myself and my intended profession was well placed.

I went to my therapy appointment laughing and grinning from ear to ear. For once, I was not shaken by the truth. It did not dishearten me or rattle me. It was the truth and I stopped hiding from that a long time ago. I have stared deep into myself and into the reality of my life. I know who I am and I am just fine with who that woman is becoming.

I spent a fair bit of time discussing the report with my therapist. Then, I recognized that there was very little to dissect and moved on to more current concerns.

That was when I realized why I am such peace with regards to my relationship. My boyfriend and I have a way of communicating that can be rivaled only by those who have known me at least 6 times as long. I know that he knows everything about me and vice versa. We do not hide things from each other. We are not ashamed of who we are or who we are together. The beautiful thing about it is that even knowing all of that... I can still lose track of all time just looking at him or laying next to him. So much has changed; but it has happened in both of us and on the same path :)

I had no hesitation in calling a girlfriend to schedule a night free of men and children. I took the day to myself. I went to group and thanked the clinical director. I told her that I was done with the reconstruction. That I will continue to evolve; but that there are no repairs left to be made. I am complete.

She very nearly cried with me. I know thy it is all going my direction. That I just need to keep doing what I am doing.

I sat down at a restaurant on my own and enjoyed my meal. I savored the feeling of the artichoke juice running down my arm. I set my phone down and enjoyed the peace of being by myself. Knowing that I would see loved ones in a short while. Knowing that I was safe with myself. That there is no need to fear what may happen.

I am happy. I will keep being happy. That is my choice and there is little that anyone or anything can do to change my mind.


I'm going to finish my sangria now.

After a Year of Tribulation...Comes the Trial

Some of you know, some of you don't; but, I have been going through an incredibly difficult custody dispute for the last year. This case has been incredibly draining emotionally, psychologically, and financially. I have had to go through a custody evaluation that made me doubt every aspect of my parenting abilities. This entire process has dragged on to the point where its mere mention has caused my stomach to become queasy.

Today, I got the call from my lawyer that the report had finally been issued.

My heart nearly skipped a beat when I saw the name of my lawyer on the caller i.d. I knew that the report was due to be issued any day. I just stared at the phone for a second before I finally answered.

"We got the report in today. I can't give you a copy of the report; but, I would like for you to come into the office so that we can go over it."

"Ok. Well, what does it say?"

"Essentially, it recommends you as the primary custodial parent. He gets her for the weekends and one 3hr visit during the week."

I nearly cried.


I called my daughter (whom I had just been scolding for pulling on the cat's tail... again) and gave her the biggest hug that I could muster.


It sounds strange. Yet, I needed to hear that to give myself any credit as a parent, as a mother.

This has been a nearly 4 year journey for me from self-hatred and fear of motherhood to having proof that I am a good mother. Not just proof.... A full evaluation of myself and my previous significant other from an experienced mental health professional.


I get to hear what it says in its entirety tomorrow. I know that it won't be all good. In fact, I know it will say a lot of things about me that I am not much looking forward to hearing. However, the end result is what I have needed to hear for years.


The court date is in 10 days.

*deep breath*

C'est la Vie

I have had a whirlwind of a few weeks. Yet, I realize that such is life. Every time I say that things will "calm down" or that I will "get a break", I am forced to realize that there is no such thing.

I start my master's program one week from today and I feel like I have yet to accomplish any of the things that I had put onto my laundry list for this summer. I haven't cleaned out the garage or read any of my books or made it to the yoga place or salvation army. However, I have done a lot of things that are seemingly more important.

I have realized that people change.


Granted, this is something that I have been aware of for many years. However, I must admit that I somehow thought that it did not apply to everyone. I have recently realized that it does.

My best friend of nearly 12 years completely let me down and embarrassed me this week. I have always pardoned her eccentric behavior over the years on the grounds that she is a good person on the inside. Her behavior this past week has shattered that argument to pieces. What she is doing with her life and how she has treated my loved ones and I is beyond anything that I am willing to accept from a "friend".

She has changed.


I have also changed.


The week's events have lead to the development that I will be watching O's boys (who shall, henceforth, be dubbed the Cs) for the duration of the summer. They are great kids and I am actually really excited to get a chance to get to know them. However, they are still two kids that I will now be watching full time instead of working. This is a scenario that would have had me in a near panic even a few months ago.

OMG OMG OMG I have to watch these kids that I barely know allll day everyday!! When will I bathe?!? When will I read my books?!?! When will I do LAUNDRY?!  How am I going to keep them entertained ?!?!?! etc....etc....etc....


Yet, I am not having such a panic attack. As soon as I realized that my friend was going to bail. Which, for the record, was before she even came down here. I knew that she would. When it became "official" that she was bailing, I just took it on like I try to take on everything in my life now: if this is what has to be done, then you just do it. Pissing and moaning won't get you anywhere.

Why must it be done?


Bottom line? I love their dad and he needs me to do it. I am also more than capable of doing it.

That is where I have changed.

I am no longer afraid of my abilities. I have, in a sense, begun to resolve my Jonah complex. I am no longer ashamed of being able to do or accomplish. I don't need to be taken care of by anyone and I am capable of helping to take care of others. There is no reason for me to panic.

Things are actually far more enjoyable when you just take a deep breath, accept the reality of the situation, and just go with it. I don't need to spend days mulling over the situation and examining it from every angle. I can actually trust my gut and go with the flow.

I don't need to fear myself anymore. I am pretty damned put together at this point in time.

I can organize schedules, cook, clean, order text books, do laundry, empty out cars, blog, make snacks, discipline as necessary, and keep relatively sane. I am not super human. I am just beginning to find peace.

Once you start to find peace from within, it becomes much easier to handle the chaos that comes from without.

I don't ignore the problems or glaze over them. I don't turn a blind eye. I simply take stock of the situation and how I feel about it. If necessary, I will address any issues that I have. I will then carry on and take on the next situation etc etc etc.

C'est la vie.

People change, we change, life changes, life is stressful, life is busy, life is beautiful.


You do not need to be a masochist or a martyr. Do not take on more than you can handle. Just don't make issues where there doesn't need to be. You will spend more time miserable-ing than you would actually getting it done.

One thing that my mom always said "I don't care who's laundry that is on the floor! If it is on the floor, then pick it up!". She had such a way with words.

The fact of the matter is that it doesn't matter if it is your responsibility or their responsibility. If it needs to get done, then just fucking do it!


This is where another mentor's words of wisdom comes into play for me: some people can and some people can't.


If you can, then do it. If they can't, then don't massacre them for it. Can you handle that they can't? Can they handle that you can?

This is why I don't understand why some couples will piss and moan about laundry and cooking and cleaning. These are not things to bitch and moan about.

If you have both had a long ass day and you can handle the dishes sitting in the sink then so be it. If one of you can cook like a food network star, then the other one can clean. If your man will ruin your delicates, then he can't do the laundry. He can take the cars to get washed instead. Don't yell at each other about why don't you ever cook or why don't you take out the trash! Acknowledge that all of these things must be done and you each will do what you can. Hopefully, it balances out. If it doesn't, then feel free to yell at will.


I can handle a lot. I can do a lot. In fact, there isn't much that I am incapable of doing or getting done.

I can't change my oil; but, I can take it to get it done. I can pick up the dog shit... but I would rather cook dinner. I can't eat gluten; but, I can find gluten-free pizza parlors.

Life is what you make of it. Don't bitch about your problems and what needs to get done. Don't become paralyzed by fear or overwhelmed by responsibility. Do what you can. Find a way get what you can't done. Enjoy the process.

Life is good.

A Few of Those "Aha!" Moments

God bless best friends!

I spent an hour on the phone with one of mine this evening and it really gave me the words of wisdom that I always need to hear.

My man gave me a good slap across the face earlier with regards to my perceived hopelessness. Thank you baby, I needed that.

Yet, it left me lacking in the realm of knowing what exactly needed to be done about it....


A few text messages with my friend helped me to recognize that I have had this lurking concern with regards to my relationship that was somehow becoming a concern today. I don't know why... I blame hormones. They are a hellova drug.

Thankfully, I have an incredible level of communication with O. I bit the bullet and asked him about it.

Thankfully, I have an incredible best friend. I was able to decompress with her about his answer.


I have this thing. This problem. Where I see someone light a match and I instantly run out of the place screaming "FIRE!! FIIIIIRRRRRRE!!" Point being that my concern is not a pressing issue.


The reality is that my relationship meets all of my needs at the present and that scares the living shit out of me. This ties into another problem that I have.... I am uncomfortable with calm.

I know this sounds crazy. Just bear in mind that I have been diagnosable for roughly half my life. The truth is that I grew up in such a way that I am conditioned to be comfortable in chaos. I get unnerved by peacefully happy calm periods in life. I don't like them. They make me listless and anxious. This tends to make me look for problems where they don't exist.

This lead me to finding an issue that could pose a potential problem in getting my future needs met. That's right, folks. I am so happy that it made me uncomfortable enough to start thinking about ways that I might not be happy in 15 fucking years. Like I said, I have been diagnosable for roughly half my life.

Oy vey...

That was my first "Aha!" moment of the day.


I recently had my second....


I have another problem. I am the world's best procrastinator. I know that plenty of you would like to challenge me on this; but, I will never get around to figuring out how to measure this, so just accept that I am better at it. Simultaneously, I am also a bit of an extremist and an impulsive train wreck.

I am really wondering how my boyfriend tolerates any of this... Someone give him a medal for me, k?

Almost a year ago, I came up with this concept for a book. It was a bit extreme and raw and not at all realistic. Especially for a single mom going into her senior year of undergraduate and trying to apply for graduate programs whilst being involved in a custody dispute... Phew! Just saying all of that was exhausting!

Point being that my procrastination won out and my impulsively brilliant idea was abandoned. *sigh*

Suddenly, I realized the following:

• I have two weeks until I start my master's program
• Even once I start my master's program, I only have classes two nights a week at the most
• My daughter is in pre-school all day Monday-Friday and spends half of the weekends with her father
• I don't have a job and I don't really want or need a full-time job
• I have taken out student loans to cover my living expenses while I am finishing up my degree
• Once I have finished the first year and a half of my program, I will be forced to start working more heavily to earn my practicum hours
• I will then be entering my career and pushing ahead full force with that

LIGHT BULB MOMENT HERE!!!

I will spend the next year and a half working on and researching my book!!


It is so genius! I almost can't believe that I came up with it. I have the time. I have the ability. I have the material. I have wanted to do it for years!

It makes so much sense to me! This is why I have been so freaking bored and ho hum these last few weeks. I have really been beating myself up for not being self motivated or a good self starter about shit like house work so that I can get started on reading all of these books that I have gathered for research.

Fuck the god damned house work. I am not built for that shit anyways.... Seriously, I detest housework. I can do it... I just get little to no pleasure out of it. Don't get me wrong... I love a clean and organized environment.... I am just a lazy procrastinator who would rather be cranking out a 10 page paper than putting laundry away or vacuuming.

A friend of mine has told me about starting his book. I remember feeling this seething flash of jealousy and longing. Just this wish to be doing the same.


Well... fuck it. I will....


I love to write. I have a passion and a cause. I have doors that I need to open and doors that I need to close. I have a lot to do and a lot to say.

My primary told me something that I will never forget "I don't know if you are cut out to be a therapist. A therapist has to be a good listener. You're a talker. And, honey, you have a lot to say that I think a lot of people need to hear!"


I think I can be damned good therapist; but, I agree with the latter portion of that. Time to bite the god damned bullet and take this whole writing thing seriously.

Carpe diem, right?

Or are the kids these days saying YOLO, or something stupid like that?

Blech.....

So, I just re-read my blog post from yesterday and I can't seem to find the same oomph today. I feel like a pile of mush. As though I am sitting and waiting for something to happen.

I recognize that this is bullshit.

I also recognize that out of everyone in the world.... I have the least amount of need for something to happen.

The reality is that I have plenty of things to do and get involved in. I would just rather sit on the couch eating a variety of homemade snacks while I watch CNN, Food Network, Comedy Central and the Cooking Channel. I through in a pleasure induced nap just to give things some pizazzzz.

Yet, I end up spending this time angry at myself for not doing all of things that I would like to do or need to do. I am seemingly incapable of enjoying being lazy or productive at this time.

This has been going on since graduation. I have been a couch potato unless I have had to be somewhere to see someone or actually had some other time sensitive task. It is pitiful.

I need to riddle this out. I don't see my therapist until tomorrow morning so it is up to me to brain ninja myself into productivity.... because I just can't stand it when I am such a schlub.

side note: blame the crappy Yiddish on my mother's side ;)


My father likes to blame my health. Truth be told, I have the immune system of a preemie. I also have a toddler in daycare. I feel sick and rundown on a daily basis. I have had elevated Epstein-barr levels since high school. I also drink way too much caffeine and red wine. Not to mention that my toddler wakes me up in the middle of the night with: night terrors, potty needs, kicking, and/or falling into the crack between the wall and the bed. There is also the sad side-effect of having given birth to this toddler and my bladder not finding a way to recover its prior endurance over the last 3 years. The end result is that I can probably be diagnosed with chronic fatigue at the tender age of nearly 25.

Yet, I can muster myself up to do any of the following activities:

• go out to dinner with family/friends/boyfriend
• stay up late having sex and then more sex
• go on cleaning sprees for about 4 hours
• get research papers and other assignments 
• and apparently to go get my starbucks from my boyfriend who just called to cheer me up and ended up telling me that I was having a "first world problem if I ever heard one.... you're bummed out because you're bored and lazy"

grrrrrrrrrr...... I love him but I also want to choke him with his ATC headset right now....fck

I will finish this later.... while I watch him do his long distance brotherly bonding via some weird video game circa 1980 something.