standing on bittersweet

I read this passage while finishing up a marvelous book, The Book of Bright Ideas, by Sandra Kring. Lately I've been feeling a knot coming up in my stomach slowly releasing an anxious murmur as it rises to the surface...

"Who will you be without me? Do you really want to let me go? Will you be able to control anything? Will you run in the other direction and make me a puffy stomach? Will you spin out of control and wind up the same way… confused and not knowing which step to take next, because you are so wildly out of control? Do you really want to say goodbye to me as a friend… when you are not sure you have someone else better to spend the day with? Do you really want to do this to yourself? Are you ready to live with the consequences of letting me wither away and wash thorough your system just like that breakfast you just enjoyed? I made you think didn't I? …. you didn't think about what it would be like to lose me as a companion. Bad companion or not… when I leave, I will still leave a void. Some kind of void. Actually, a pretty damn big one. Who will console you when you are sad, worried or having a pretty shitty day? Are you ready for the empty hole I will leave when you let me go? Oh… and you were so anxious to bid be farewell. A little bittersweet, eh? A little more bittersweet than you were prepared for… "

~ ~ ~

From The Book of Bright Ideas by Sandra Kring: 

"…I realized that I wasn't standing at the magic tree anymore. I was standing at the place they call "bittersweet". That place that, if you could find it on a map, would be the mountain that sits between happy and sad. And I thought bout how when you stand on that mountain, you can almost feel God's hand on your head and you just know, deep down inside, that even if you don't understand everything that happened to cause those mixed feelings, you still know there was a good reason for them happening.

…then I smiled and reminded [Aunt Verdella] of what she and Winnalee had both once told me. That you have to go on believing anything's possible, or else, what's the point?"

on the mountain of bittersweet.

and believing anything is possible.

it is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is...

C 

    

the damn cookie diaries

there are so many things I could write about tonight.
but honestly, it would probably all come streaming out from
my hands in a jumbled disaster that I would not even be able
to put a title on, other than "shit my eating disorder says"
(let's hope no one ever makes an incredibly offensive parody on this one)

I've been wanting to write for days, but all I get is crazy little snid-bits of thoughts
that are literally now scribbled all over my planner,
my post-it note stash, grocery receipts, frequent buyer cards,
basically any form of paper I could get my hands on in the moment
when a thought hits.
Yes, I have an iPhone, but I don't believe in writing what truly matters
with your thumbs… you gotta put your whole hand into it sis-tah!
Anyway, one of them turned into a list entitled:
The (Infinite) Commandments of an Eating Disorder: Thou shalt not
That one got a little touchy though and is still in the
"let me sit here and think about this in a couple of days" phase, 
so you may get to munch on that in a few days.


Another longer spontaneous rant came as
the product of a cookie.
yes.
only in recovery world will one 
ever be compelled to journal about
a freakin cookie.
at what point does this become funny?
I'm leaving this as is: a stream of consciousness, if you will.
I only share this because I am sure that most of you
reading have been assigned to keep a "food journal" at some point
or another (or will do so in the near future)
that includes both a record of nutrition and… feelings. oh the F word.

I will warn anyone before reading this that this post does discuss

a simple "snack" (a cookie if you have not already guessed it!) and

a bit about the struggles of gaining weight. 

So please do not read any further if you think it

may be a trigger for you… I certainly do not intend to trigger anyone

by any means. Yet, I know that I had benefitted greatly from reading/hearing

raw, unedited thoughts of someone else who has struggled with

the battle before… and it made sense to me, it helped me make sense

of my own rants, it helped me know it was okay to rant, to get angry,

to write every SINGLE thing you felt and most of all it helped me realize

I was completely and utterly not alone.

...

~March 4, 2012~

After having lunch today it was like all of the "hunger" just disappeared. I knew this was reality and that it would come and go as any normal person expereinces but it just got really frustrating again, because I knew unlike any other "normal" person… I had to push through it, I still had to eat… I couldn't trust my body's hunger. This was my medicine.

It was difficult to dismiss the "oh you've really let yourself go now" thoughts that began to come : "Oh no wonder you're feeling full and a little gross right now... you've been sustaining for days... what did you expect after eating all that and cheering yourself on for doing so well?" I knew they were lies, I knew in my heart that I had done well, I had done my body a favor... but I also was reminded of the discomfort. The discomfort that will come with gaining weight. It sucks quite frankly. Absolutely sucks. Gaining weight doesn't fell good to anyone, no matter if you need to or not! It feels tight, cramped, uncontrollable, yet controllable at the same time… strange, indescribable, unpredictable… and completely against everything I have ever practiced or set out of achieve. Let's face it, never in your life have you picked up a magazine that says, "GAIN 10 LBS THIS SPRING! GET READY FOR BATHING SUIT SEASON! SHOW OFF THAT CAKE! WE'LL SHOW YOU HOW!" 

HA! No. 

And now I am sitting here waiting on a friend to get coffee knowing I will have to get a cookie or something to go with it because its right around "snack time". I want to want it. I do. But I don't want it right now... it feels forced, uncontrollable, uncomfortable, so. not. hungry... but I know I have to do it, because if I don't... I will feel guilty for giving in, I will have to write it down for my therapist to see, I will have thrown in the towel and said "YOU WIN TODAY" and I won't do that. I want to right now and it seems tempting… maybe just this once, you've earned a slack. No. I won't. 

I got the damn cookie and it was good. Yes, I was full and it took about every grain of strength I had to decide to do it, but I did. I pushed through it. Because it had already been a day of struggle I, of course thought about it for an hour… cookie, cookie, cookie, Mr. Cookie in your tummy. But it passed. Just like everything else has in the past. I feel okay at the moment... not great, I'll admit, but I'm here. 

I'm here fighting off the frustration (for the millionth time) of "why do I even have to do this, how did I get here… are you really writing about a freakin cookie right now?" And I transitioned into just being grateful. I have what I need to fight through this.... everything I need. I'm not great, but I'm okay. I ate the damn cookie and I won't go to bed feeling guilty tonight. I'd say it was damn good too... and big. Enormous, giant, with sugar on top...so what? I don't curse much, but I'm feeling particularly infuriated towards the E.D. tonight… oddly and uncharacteristically bitter, but I don't hate the feeling. Who else has to sit here and write their feelings about a damn cookie? This freakin sucks. 

And that's all I have to say about that. Humph. I will win.

next time I'm bringing him with me.

love and damn cookies,

C

firing Mr. Fix It

i've decided that my tool box needs a makeover.
or rather… I just need to buy more tools.
for the past two or so years, I've only had one
and we all know what that one tool is:
the ED all-in-one wrench.

The ED wrench could fix almost anything.

a broken heart,

a dreadful, snowy day,

loneliness,

lack of direction,

late night studying,

a mid-term exam disaster,

frustration with a body part,

a big bump in the road,

a terrible hair day,

friendship troubles,

monsoon weeks,

a longing for home,

a loss of a loved one,

an unknown turn just ahead,

a ding in my front bumper,

an "I feel gross" day,

exhaustion from late nights,

a heart crying out for something…

anything.

It helped me not feel any of it.

Numb, paralyzed, just a walking existence.

Barely existing.

The one tool in my toolbox helped for awhile,

in fact, it helped for much too long.

I mastered how to use it,

welcomed the power I felt when it was in my hand,

finished the day with it under my covers,

held it in my hand on the couch,

clung to it for dear life,

ran miles with it... carrying it like a baton

and perfected hiding it beneath my smile. 

No toolbox needed at all,

it came with me everywhere

and was the cure for all life's problems, worries and fears 

in one little tool…

until it transitioned into my best friend and constant companion,

even on the "good" days.

One little Mr. Fix it.

I've decided to fire Mr. Fix it.

don't let the overalls fool you.

There isn't one tool to fix everything.

There never should be.

There never has been,

but lies have told us otherwise.

Lies have told us numbers are the only thing that make sense,

Lies have told us that its okay to not feel anything,

Lies have told us that there is no other told this powerful,

Lies have told us we are invincible,

Lies have told us, the more you use the told,

the more effective it becomes,

Lies have told us we might as well forget about being able to concentrate again,

Lies have told us this is the only way, the only cure, the only tool.

Wrong. 

There are so many other ways,

so many other tools:

funny movies, disney coloring books, knitting, a cup of tea, skyping with a friend, taking a nap, listening to a healing playlist, looking through an old photo album, going for a walk, laying down and taking ten minutes to breathe, standing on your head, just going outside, painting your nails, going out to get coffee…

What if you are frustrated with the mirror?

why don't you walk away and come back in twenty minutes in a new outfit?

What if you are stressed out with studying?

why don't you take ten minutes to paint your nails, clear your head?

What if you are feeling lonely?

why don't you call a friend who lives far away?

or maybe mom, she will always answer.

What if you are discouraged with recovery?

instead of giving in, why don't you lay down for a little while

and color, read, or write a letter.

What if your are just having a downright bad day?

why don't you go out and get coffee ,

there is nothing that won't fix

(but make sure you have something with it,

because you KNOW coffee does not constitute a snack)

What if you are having a terrible hair day?

instead of beating yourself up on the inside,

why don't you do your hair in pig tails…

pig talis are always cute and pin back frizz like a charm.

What if it seems like everyone around you in dating someone?

why don't you watch youtube videos of sexy guy singers

and not feel the slightest bit guilty about it

because you are single, HELLO!

Or… watch a Madea movie and make yo'self proud of your independence.

What if you are so anxious about something you cannot stand it?

why don't you take a nap, and reset your body?

What if you have an afternoon to do absolutely nothing?

why don't you paint, or find something to spark your creativity?

What if you are challenged to go to a restaurant?

why don't you welcome the opportunity to try something new?

What if you have the busiest day of your life ahead of you?

why don't you take 5 minutes in bed before you get up

just being and breathing deeply, to set the tone for the rest of the day?

What if you fall off your bike?

why don't you take this time to rest,

and start over?

What if you are having a tough time with your recovery meal plan?

why don't you sit down an write a letter to yourself

that you will read next year, thanking yourself for

drinking the boosts and eating twelve jars of peanut butter…

because you are much healthier now,

believe it.

Why don't you fill up your toolbox,

oh heck make it overflow,

with tools that are healthy, helpful, fun, 

creative, unique…

instead of allowing your old Mr. Fix it to handle it 

by hammering away your emotions.

oh, and get a cute toolbox,

fire Mr. Fix it

C

what is in yours?

the question

I am a professional what-iffer.

Usually, my what-iffing leads me into a downward spiral of doubt,
worry, negativity, hesitation, yadayadayada.

The beginning of the New Year was yet again
and emotional day.
Once again I was left breathless in trying to tame
my emotions when reflecting on a year
where I went from barely hanging on to being alive.

Looking back on where I was last year at this time

making the decision to leave school and stay home a semester,

extremely ill and in complete denial, working myself into the ground, 

sleeping only four hours a night, 

caking a smile on my face, exercising incessantly,

spending most of my time alone or working…

I have never been filled with more hope and
gratitude for being given a shot at full recovery.

Over Christmas break I went home to visit my family for the holidays
where I would say goodbye to one year and welcome a new beginning…
in the place where I both ran to and hid from the world
and myself only one year prior.

I knew it was going to be a difficult journey home.

I was anxious about being faced with clouds of 

past "sick memories" hovering over everywhere I went.

Lets face it … holidays = lots of food and dessert.

I knew my mom was going to be pushing cake

and brownies on me whenever she could and I would have 

to beg myself not to squirm in my skin at the thought.

I was uneasy about going to church and putting on the

famous "perfect face" I had worn all my life… the one I've been working on ditching.

I feared seeing people from my past who were 

the source of much anxiety, unhappiness and loss.

I was terrified of anyone commenting on my weight, 

even though I hadn't notably fluctuated that much since September,

I didn't want anyone to say anything at all… 

yet, some people just can't help not to comment on weight. 

Grrrrrrrrrr. 

So, my only hope against the nervous energy was an appointment
I had scheduled with my therapist from this past summer.
...the one who had first led me away from denial
and onto the road of recovery:

the raging storm of challenge, happiness and hope.

I wanted her to see what she had helped create…
the woman I am coming to know. 

how far I have come, yet how far I have to go…

now I can be honest about both.

The transparency I am beginning to show, speak and not fear.

The confidence I am gaining every week and how
I am learning to express who I really am,

as I break through the numbness to discover who I really am.

Her enormous, swallowing hug was almost enough therapy to call it a session.

I just knew this was going to set my mind more at ease towards the coming weeks. 

After I got done telling her all about my new adventures

in the City… the failures, the lessons, the growths, the fall-backs,

the victories, the joys of apartment dwelling and the friends I have made…

we talked briefly about the holidays… because everyone knows 

it is the toughest time of year for ED recovery.

And now that I am honest with myself, 

I was feeling the quivers I had heard everyone talk about.

But I guess it is better than not feeling at all.

She asked me what "my plans" were for the holidays and I

paused and said, "You know… I don't really think we have any…"

Whoa.

what?

I sort of smiled to myself as I noticed the irony of that statement.

Back in June I began to see a therapist for "anxiety and OCD"

…okay yes I do struggle with both, 

yet they were certainly second to the ED hiding beneath my skin. 

The most maddening quality to my OCD life was… planning. 

My mind was constantly going five-hundred-miles-per-minute

making plans for the rest of the day for no reason at all.

She had be talk through why I might be inclined to planning

so obsessively and it all led back to control, stress and perfection.

Once I got the OCD under control with the help of medication,

she challenged me with an all-too-familiar,
yet entirely different, "What if…" question.

"What if you woke up one day 

and didn't plan anything the whole day?"

"HELLO! No plans?! I don't know if I can do that…"

...and now here I am looking her in the eye saying, 

"…no plans" and it is not bothering me one bit.

Oh, how far I have come…

~ ~ ~

Now, months later, my new therapist in Manhattan has been

helping me confront and question my life-long struggle with 

perfectionism.

That's a big cookie to crumble… like Grand Canyon sized chocolate-chip!

Though I was undoubtedly born a perfectionist, 

being a "preacher's kid" since day one has certainly contributed to my 

"obligation" to put on a pretty smile no matter what…

If you have to hide your frustration or exhaustion, then so be it! 

"Just be pleasant" seemed to be the overarching rule of the PK's.

And I was good at it… I still am could be good at it.

I am choosing now to not hide behind my smile, that's too easy.

I've done that all my life.

The real challenge is to ask myself how I really feel,

what I really want to say… sure, don't go around frowning

or cussing the world! Haha, that is certainly not beneficial to anyone!

But rather… How am I truly feeling today?

Am I tired? It's okay to say you're tired.

Are you frustrated? It's okay… it's normal to be aggravated sometimes.

Are you just feeling quiet today? It's okay to not do everything.

Are you really wanting to spend time with these people 

because you truly enjoy their company? It's okay to not agree with everyone.

Are you struggling today? It's okay to say "no" and cancel an obligation.

all of these things I denied myself for years.

Before going home for a holiday break, I was expressing my

anxiety about going back to church and home… seeing all of the people

that have watched me grow up and have seen all of my "transformations".

I knew they would ask questions... some I would be unable to answer.

And I knew they would want to know how I was liking the City.

And I had convinced myself they had expectations of what I had been

accomplishing and doing since I moved.

Even people that barely knew me... who only know me as the "PK".

I was terrified to put my smiling mask back on...

to just revert to my old ways of 

"be pleasant, be pleasant! No matter what. It doesn't matter how you really feel!"

My therapist looked at me and shot me with more of
those "What if…" questions I was a professional at cultivating. 

But these were ones I had never, ever asked myself:

So, what if you didn't put on a smile? 

What if you listened to your heart 

and didn't feel obligated to go? What if you said exactly what you were feeling? 

What if you were entirely honest?

What if you stopped yourself before putting 

on the mask and asked the non-masked girl 

the question?

What would happen then? 

Could you do it?

oh dear… could I?

There's only one way to find out.

With all of these "What if.." questions being tossed 

at me in a different format than I was used to... a more constructive format,

I decided to create a list of my New Year's "What if" Challenges

instead of the typical list of resolutions.

While sitting on the airplane traveling back to begin 

a new year's journey in the City,

I wrote a list of "what if" questions that provoke a thought pattern 

of helpful challenge instead of a doubtful fuss.

It is both my plan to thrust my thinking towards recovery

and my initiative to end the battle with harmful "what ifs" in 2012.

Maybe, just maybe, next year the what if's will be entirely transformed.

I can only hope…

yet, no matter what this year brings, 

I will hold onto that hope.

Because of how far I've come, because I am now able to effectively process my thoughts, because I have learned to face my struggles, because I have been blessed with the tools I need to recover, because I have found hope again… a long lost companion, that I don't intend on letting go.

Complete New Year's "What if" Challenge list coming next post.

Until then Happy New Year,

Happy New Beginning,

Happy New Goals of Recovery,

Happy Second Chance,

Happy New Discoveries,

and Happy New Hope,

C

conquer: be patient and trust

It was July 23, 2011. I have it written down so that I will always remember.
I had just started a new medication and facing the extreme "side-effect" anxiety.
I knew that sometimes the medicine worked, and sometimes... it only made it worse.
I was terrified and miserable for days worrying, 
"Am I different today? Is it getting worse or am I just paranoid? Am I supposed to be dizzy?"
I spent days sifting through the emotions of my body adjusting to the medicine
and I had begun to think I was going to give up, I couldn't keep feeling like I was walking on air.


I still don't know how, but I got up to open the coffeeshop that morning (aka 4:30)
and I just happened to feel the need to grab "The Inner Voice of Love" by Henri J.M. Nouwen
on my way out the door. I usually had about thirty minutes alone with only 2 customers at 6:00 a.m. so I figured I might as well read.


I was completely defeated and beginning to lose hope. I didn't understand... I had already had this massive breakthrough, I was ready to do this. I was ready to get better. I didn't want to feel submerged in the depths of the disorder anymore... but this was all getting too blurry again. Would I ever make it out?


And then at 5:45 a.m. I had finished all of the opening work I flipped open the book.
Prayer answered. 

"Receive All the Love That Comes to You"

by Henri J.M. Nouwen

While you may feel physically and mentally strong, you still experience a forceful undercurrent of anguish. You sleep well, you work well, but there are few waking moments when you do not feel that throbbing pain in your heart that makes everything seem up in the air. You know that you are progressing, but you can't understand why this anguish keeps pervading everything you think, say, or do. There is still a deep, unresolved pain, but you cannot take it away yourself. It 

exists far deeper than you can reach.

Be patient and trust. You have to move gradually deeper into your heart. There is a place far down that is like a turbulent river, and that place frightens you. But do not fear. One day it will be quiet and peaceful.

You have to keep moving, as you are doing. Live a faithful, disciplined life, a life that gives you a sense of inner strength, a life in which you can receive more and more of the love that comes to you. Wherever there is real love for you, take it and be strengthened by it. As your body, heart, and mind come to know that you are loved, your weakest part will feel attracted to that love. What has remained separated and unreachable will let itself be drawn into the love you have been able to receive. One day you will discover that your anguish is gone. It will leave you because your weakest self let itself be embraced by your love.

You are not yet there, but you are moving fast. There will be a bit more pain and struggle. You have to dare to live through it. Keep walking straight. Acknowledge your anguish, but do not let it pull you out of yourself. Hold on to your chosen direction, your discipline, your prayer, your work, your guides, and trust that one day love will have conquered enough of you that even the most fearful part will allow love to cast out all fear.

For some reason I remembered this passage this week. 

And once again, I opened up my book and relived July 23rd.

I can still remember standing in the coffeeshop crying my eyes out 

because once again I knew

once again I needed to be reminded... one day the anguish would be gone. 

There is hope.

Prayer answered, November 13, 2011.

And still I know I am not yet there. 
Sometimes I don't even feel like I am moving fast, 
while other days I feel as though I am "back to normal"
Then a hard day hits when I go to bed realizing 
I hadn't put everything I could into recovery that day
"keep moving as you are moving"


I wonder if I need extra help and I wonder if I am ready for all of this.
I wonder if it is too much for me to handle alone
And then,
"Keep walking straight. Acknowledge your anguish, 
but do not let it pull you out of yourself... 
dare to live through it."

I worry that people can see that people know,
that they judge.
I have nightmares about disordered thoughts,
that wake me up and try to make me believe the lies.
"the most fearful part will allow love to cast out all fear."


I catch a taste of that love every Sunday.
I move closer and closer to recognizing the taste of love,
remembering what it feels like to love... and to be loved.
Tonight, I had to rush out of church in time to catch the subway back with a new friend
and I ran over to say goodbye to a God-send, Hilary.
"Oh okay girlfrannn you go and run, text me this week, okay?
Love you girl."

I almost tripped on my skirt.
But my instinct reacted quicker with a smile.
"Love you too, Bye!!"

Step by step, love is conquering the fear

Love from other people, Love for myself,

Love for other people and Love for life.

Step by step, be patient and trust.

"keep walking straight"

conquer.

"keep moving forward"

conquer.

"there will be a bit more pain and struggle"

conquer.

"move gradually deeper"

conquer.

"allow love to cast out all fear"

conquer.

be patient and trust,

C

The Rescue

Music has always spoken to me louder than any word, poem or voice.

When nothing else can get through to me, you can bet a song will break my resistance.
There's just something uniquely captivating about music.

A few months ago my roommate and I had gotten tickets to see Tyler Ward in concert at Webster Hall this past Wednesday. Not just that, she had gotten us Meet and Greet Tickets to talk with him before the show because she has been severely in love with him for years (though I did not know this until five minutes before we met him, when she was about to faint!) She just cracks me up. Anyway, Tyler was as lovely and his voice and a truly grateful for meeting us... he was a refreshingly genuine musician who had not let fame eat away at his character. Best of all, he wore a cross necklace around his neck and an I Am Second bracelet on his arm. However amazing he was in person was slightly downplayed to exhaustion from a hectic week of school and work... I had hit a wall by Wednesday night. I was not in the best mood due to lack of sleep, I was feeling guilty for not taking care of myself as I should have for that week and I was frustrated with a mid-term paper hanging over my head to finish that night. Ugh. I wanted to enjoy the concert so badly, but I was just so tired and run down I knew I would not enjoy it to it's full potential, but I stuck it out anyway...

To my surprise I was able to enjoy the show much more than I had anticipated on my journey there, mostly because I practiced a little DBT method my therapist suggested... this is the day and the moment you have been given, so what are you going to do with what you have been given? I stopped focusing on the exhaustion and tuned into the rhythms surrounding me and the very energetic Tyler Ward jumping around on the stage.

The Rescue stole away all of my anxiety

("you really have not done well on that paper you have to finish tonight,

 you know you have not eaten as well as you should have today, 

How on earth are you going to sleep tonight?...)

and negativity

("my back hurts so badly from standing for five hours I could saw it in half, 

it's going to take so long to get back on the subway, 

there are so many people crammed into this tiny studio room 

that there isn't enough oxygen for all of us, 

was two opening bands really necessary?")

The ED-anxious-mind was silenced.

Mr. Ward came out for one more song with just his guitar. While introducing the song as one of his first songs ever written, he began to weep. Oh great here it comes...my eyes have an instinct I like to call "tear empathy"! I tuned in for the last song with everything I had and the tears began to fall. Here is the YouTube video Tyler made for The Rescue featuring videos submitted by fans about their insecurities, anxieties, setbacks, and failures and how

we overcome and have been rescued.

after that I have no words.

rescued and broken,

C