Monday, August 3, 2020

again

I'm falling
Again
My knees are weak
Again
She's back
She is mine
Or, I am hers?
Her whispers are roars
Again
I'm here wondering
Will it end, again?


Thursday, July 30, 2020

painful victory

Welp. First breakfast I've had in two weeks. I FEEL SO GUILTY. I'm past the hump. Mostly slept through it. There's nothing I can do now. And that feels defeating. Even though this is a small victory. It's one that's kicking me while I'm down.

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

focus

If I'm honest, it's taking over. My mind is constantly going. My focus is on food or lack there of. Everything outside of that focus is blurry and hard to reach. I'm just going through the motions now. Functioning but only just. It's not fair to those who depend on me. I feel like such a waste of space. That the space I take needs to shrink, quickly. And that, well, that's not fair to me. Expectations are high and I'm falling short. 

long ago: now?

"You fell in love with a storm. Did you really think you would get out unscathed?"

I fell in love with her so many years ago. She was the storm I was mesmerised by. I did everything she asked. Until I realized, she wasn't this angelic creature trying to save me. Rather this entity consuming and breaking me apart from the outside. She was my Anorexia.


Fast forward. I've done a lot of really hard work. Realized she was killing me. Accepting that I needed her to stay alive at the same time. She faded out.

Recovery was short-lived and she was quickly replaced by Bulimia. Dark and twisty. Impulsive. Chaotic. Still on a quest for outward perfection. Revitalizing in the release with every purge. Instant gratification.

Again, recovery. More solid this time. Doing the damn thing. Proud if it even. Still battling but honestly not everyday. Recovery became a new way of life. Not innately but I got along fine. Found my niche. My sisters. 

Now, as I write this today, I am afraid. Afraid of how that solidness has vanished. I still have the skills and knowledge. I will never just forget the things I've worked so tiringly to gain. Yet, she's coming for me once again. It's nerve-wracking. But, I won't just welcome her back in. Though she holds a place in my heart. Behaviors are exhausting me. My mind doesn't rest. 



Intake today: Coffee. Water. One balanced meal. 

Sunday, July 26, 2020

concept struggle

I'm struggling with a concept. The idea of being grounded in the present while simultaneously hoping for a better future. I know it's a dialectic and it's an and/also situation, but I'm struggling with grasping it. Trying to work through staying grateful and wanting more. I'm sure it's about balance at the core but how to get there is beyond my knowledge. I've recently started spiraling into a relapse. One that is both comfortable and unwelcome. It's not that there's no hope in the situation, or that I can't connect with the hope which is present. It's more like lack of faith in the hope. I've just been in it so long. Is there an end? I'm sure that yes, one way or another, it comes to an end. But, what about the now? What about before that end destination is reached? Is it okay to imagine the most beautiful version possibly for my life? Or is that being untrue and unfair to the here and now? There's probably not even a correct answer to any of these questions, honestly. There rarely are. If I allow myself to setup the stage, to prepare for the beautiful, and don't reach those expectations, than it will lead to not only disappointment but worse the the thought/feeling/destination of having reached failure. It's very black and white thinking I'm aware and it's my reality. So, in the midst of relapse will having faith in the spark of hope be the key to getting out? Or a barrier to staying present?

Monday, February 18, 2019

Superhero: me.

I wish I had an eloquent answer or words to say what a superhero me would look like. Not a superhero in terms of being all that extraordinary or perfect. Just one that has standards, lives up to them, and takes action. Basically, me on a motivated, recovery oriented day. Me, only super. Still genuine though. That part is important. In truth, I have no idea what actions I want to take. Let alone what actions I need to take. It's easier in a sense with the eating disorder. I eat because it's medicine that I need. So, what's the equivalent for trauma? I think it's about developing new brain pathways. But, how do I do that? Not by living in fear. That is for sure and certain. By pushing myself outside of the realm of comfortably. While simultaneously remaining safe. About having boundaries but walking all the way to the edge of the boundaries. Instead of staying on the comfortable side of them. About having a hierarchy and doing exposures. That allow me to be physically safe and emotionally cause distress. Until, well, until they don't anymore. Until my brain starts to send a new message. A message that says "hey, this is uncomfortable AND I'm okay". This doesn't mean putting myself in the worst possible situations. In fact it means being smart and aware of my surroundings. Aware without being over alert. Without a thudding heart. Without all the anxiety. How can I put this into practice? First, I need to craft a hierarchy that meets my personal history. One that is challenging but safe to explore. One that causes uncomfortably but not crippling fear. And, if the fear is there so is the courage to continue on the adventure. I need recovery songs. Sure, I have those songs for eating disorder recovery. But not for trauma recovery. I suppose some of the songs are interchangeable but not all. Because once I have a meaning in my head it's stuck like glue. Songs that remind me of my past but more importantly motivate me to overcome it. Then, I need to take action. The most important part. It's all fun and games to be hopeful or to be motivated. To take action takes work. Especially for something like this. It's not easy to go outside my comfort zone. It takes dedication. Just like the dedication I used to pour into the studio. Practice, practice, and practice. When I want to give up, I push. When my body cries out, in this case my mind, I push. Because frankly it's the only way to the otherside. No one is going to hand me recovery. That isn't how it works. All the avoidance I've been practicing related to trauma needs to fly right out the window. It has no place here. Not for superhero me. In a life where I take action I need to first know why. Why put in the effort? What am I striving towards? Well, recovery, naturally. It's more than the destination though. It's a lifestyle. A journey if you will. I need to put into action countering the thoughts. The intrusive memories. Not by belittling myself for them happening. Because they are a part of me. They will happen. They will intrude. What do I do with them? How will I react? That's what matters. In my superhero form, I confront not shrink. I stand up to the thoughts and images. Not hide or ignore. It's not about running away from the past. It's about learning to live in the present. Because I cannot say it enough; it's about taking action. Not just saying I'm going to address it. Not just being willing or trying, but applying. Applying everything I know. Applying and using skills. Now, what do I do with all of this? I go out and live. I explore. I find safety in knowing my past is not my present. Though something terrible could happen at any minute it doesn't mean I should live in fear if the "what if". It means I should be aware if those situations and continue on about my life. I think practicing and applying all of this will help me achieve one of the values that are missing in ny life: intimacy. Like, with a lifelong partner. Not just a friend. A romantic relationship. Because though my life is not void of intimacy it is in that way. Now, I'm not saying I'm looking to get married tomorrow, or even date tomorrow.  I'm just saying I want it at some point. If I keep living in fear of it I will never have it. I will never address it. I will continue to ignore that it's missing. That's not taking action. It's not being authentic. It's not living a life aligned with my values. All of which my superhero me does.

Sunday, February 17, 2019

A ceiling with no floor: limitations?

"The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits." -unknown

I saw my weight yesterday. I was not surprised by what I saw. Yet, it caught me off guard and threw me into something of a mental battle. I was reminded at once of my "ceiling weight ". You know, that weight in your mind that you will never ever reach? That weight that is somehow unacceptable no matter what. Well, I was reminded. Of the number. Of how years ago how it made me feel. And of how I have now surpassed that number. About how somehow a number I would never let myself reach is now in the rear-view mirror. For me there is a story associated with the number. And, a strong influence that has impacted my life, for the better, that accidentally planted the number there years ago. There the number remains. No matter how I try to shake it. Of course, the illogical question is how can I have worth and have surpassed my ceiling number? Well, in order to try and get myself out of this place, I started thinking in opposition (thanks to the helpof a friend). Meaning, essentially, what if I was at my "floor weight"? The thing is there is no logic here. Because my disorder has no floor weight. No weight that is somehow low enough to give me things like worth or happiness. Only an ever moving target. The lower my weight has gotten in the past the lower I wanted it. I never reached a weight that was "low enough". Not because I didn't try because that I did. But, because quite simply there was no floor. How can one reach something that doesn't exist? She cannot. Recently, I have been experiencing an unexplained morning sickness. Once a day that comes and goes. In my quest to solve this mystery,  I went to urgent care yesterday. Which is where I saw that dreaded number. The point is the Dr. really didn't have an answer for me but simply suggested I try a liquid diet. Wow, talk about triggering. So instantly my thought becomes food is the enemy. Also, if I was at my floor weight or anything close to it surely they would not reccomend this to me. Not that a liquid diet is somehow wrong or really even that drastic for a "typical" healthy person. But for me it is just more than the type of food being ingested it is also then about the obsession of the foods that are "off limits". If you are reading this and can relate whatsoever I need explain that no further. So, today I find myself obsessing. Wondering. Worrying. About that ceiling weight and its significance in my life. Both then and now. And trying like hell to outsmart it with opposition. Only the opposition doesn't really exist. I'm left to try and fact check. What is true about weight? It is the gravitational pull of the body to the earth. That's it. Not a measure of happiness, perfection, or self worth. Just try and remember no matter what those numbers are (your ceiling weight, your moving floor weight, or your actual weight): it is just a measurement of gravity. Not one of worth. It is stupid to strive for something that doesn't exist. But you can be genius in knowing your, and your body's, limitations.