Thursday, December 27, 2018


It's been a rough week for sure. I'm stuck in my head about the way things used to be. We used to be a family. All of our flaws included. Now, we are shattered. Everyone is going their separate ways. Everyone is living further apart than we ever have before. I, I am trying to be okay with that. It is difficult though. Because I feel that I am to blame for the family fracture. Even though I know it was their actions and not my own. Though their actions meant nothing until my words were spoken. The blame doesn't need to be anywhere really. Though maybe it does. I am unsure. So, I find myself bent over porcelain throwns once again. I find myself struggling. It scares me. It's not just about family though. It's not entirely about who I get to see. Who I want to see. And those I have chosen to remove from my life. It's also about me. This time of year is tough for me as I age. I tend to get wrapped up in New year's resolutions. The idea of them anyways. I find myself asking questions that I do not have the answers for. Where will I be 5 years from now? Will I be financially stable? Will I fonally have a career? Will I be married? I know it is all too big to answer in a day. I know that it is okay to not have said answers. It just doesn't feel okay though. It feels like chaos. The kind I grew up in. The kind that is so unsafe I inflict pain on myself. The kind that shakes the Earth that I am desperately trying to stand firmly on. Well, let me tell you, it is not an easy task to stand on an uneven, ever moving, world. Today I choose to look back in order to move forward. I am a hell of a lot further in recovery than I ever thought possible. For all intents and purposes I am okay. Though that doesn't mean everything is fine. It just means comparatively, I am better than I was. Much better. Hell, last year I didn't get to spend the holidays with family at all. Last year I was in treatment. Last year I was so lost. And although I am lost in these questions right now, I am not entirely lost in space anymore. Even though the Earth is spinning and shaking at least I am standing. I may fall down. I may even begin to dig the rabbit hole. That doesn't mean I have to go into its depths once more. I have been there. I know the pain and agony. And while living in a world full of questions feels terrible, I know it could be worse.  Because frankly, it has been worse. Much worse. So, in times like these, when I feel myself slipping, even acting out, I try to use my voice. I reach out. I speak up. I let my family of creation know that I am not okay. And that that is okay. I just jump back on the bus and check ny mirrors several times. Being cautious is important in trialing times. But being scared in living in fear of what might be simply is not okay with me anymore. So, today I choose to proceed with caution. But proceed nonetheless, I will.

Saturday, December 15, 2018


It's 11:11 a.m. Time to make a wish, as you all know. I happened to look at my clock precisely at "the right" moment. What did I wish for? Ordinarily I wouldn't say out of fear of it not coming true. This is a different circumstance. I found myself wishing "to lose weight".  Why does this matter? Because about thirty seconds later I realized what just happened. The wish came from an innate part of me. Something so engrained I barely notice that it isn't right or natural at all. Sure,  plenty of women wish to lose weight. It's just not the same. For me, it's a red flag. Something to at least be aware of. Recently, I was talking with a dear friend, who's name I will keep anonymous, we were talking about how sometimes it just feels like we are "normal" now. Then something happens. Something that grounds us in reality. We realize the disease is a permanent part of us. For her it was overthinking a holiday party that involved food. For me, it was the wish. I guess what I'm saying here is that though time and distance away from the disorder helps tremendously, it will always be something that lingers. Waiting for a moment of weakness or anything to latch onto. I am proud of the progress I have made. I am proud of the progress of my close friend. I am grateful for self-awareness. I am grateful to be able to truly say I am in recovery. I am not perfect, but I do continue to grow and make progress. So can you.