Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Filters down, here's my voice.

Well, some of it anyway. 

Shockingly enough, it's not my recent termination from work (yep) that possesses my thoughts; it's how recovery has changed since that day. A born people-pleaser, I have done virtually nothing but try to please people. In my former job, I was trained to put others first. And that has its place. Never have I seriously taken  the time to figure my own self. My voice was silenced and ED-NOS became who I was. And it's what I fight to this day. Still. Recovery is slow. It's trying. It's frustrating to the people that treat me and take care of me. No one has quit on me yet, but changes have occurred.
My dietitian. Due to scheduling conflicts I have transitioned to a new one. In Idaho there is only ONE registered dietitian that specializes in eating disorders. So my current one I am seeing does not. But she is trying. I have tried to strip away as much of the disorder as I can so I benefit and so she doesn't get so frustrated. It's not about pleasing her, it's about remembering it's a partnership. I pay her to help me eat. And trusting her, building the relationship, SUCKS. But I must. What a frustration.

In therapy this week, Kristin pointed out that I have been given something wonderful. Though as termination from my job SUCKS, I now have all this time to think about my recovery and WORK ON IT. Fuck. Panic set in when she told me this. There is no distraction anymore. No more excuses. She asked how I felt about that. I'm not sure exactly what I said, but she retorted with "Don't give me that bullshit answer."
So, for one of the first times ever I looked her square in the eyes and told her what I thought of it. Pleased with my true answer, she then questioned me. 
Damn. Talking sometimes just gets you in trouble. Right now it feels like this.
It's like I have a big strip of duct tape over my mouth. I'm shaking my head back and forth, hair whipping from side to side. I am trying to scream my way through the duct tape, but no one can hear me. My voice desperately wants out, and it's on the tip of my lips, but I can't let it out. 
Enter my dear friend Meagan. This girl means business. Essentially, she tells me that if the world or someone doesn't like me for me, then fuck 'em. And she tells me to go ahead and write what I need to write. Fuck everyone else. Say what I need to say. Someone might need to hear it. You never know who's going to read it. She's been one of my biggest cheerleaders, and I begin to believe what she says. 
And I then remember her attempted suicide. Her reaching out to me and shortly thereafter sharing her story with the virtual world. Her honesty. Courage to write what she does. No shame. With what she has shared, I know I can share what I need to say. 
So, in utter disorganization, here are a few things in list form that I'd like to say. No holds barred. 
1. I'm not stupid - I take everything in. Everything. In detail.
2. I got sick, but I'm not gone yet. I'm still here. 
3. I am glad to be out from under such sorry leadership.
4. The disorder is what I fight - it's not who I am.
5. When you start showing faith in me and confidence in me, I am terrified of proving you right. 
6. I have not yet discovered all of who the hell I am.
7. Recovery sucks sometimes. The truth is insane to bear.
8. I don't like a lot of physical closeness. I tremble and back off when someone gets close. THERE I SAID IT.
9. However, I will let near the ones I trust. 
10. I don't like to trust, but sometimes it feels involuntary.
11. Meagan is waiting for this post to happen. No one has ever waited for a post of mine.
12. I had to buy a watch with 3 different alarms on it to remind me to eat. 
13. I am the queen of excuses and procrastination in recovery. Once, I was proud to be such a great liar. (that was long ago.)
14. I don't lie anymore. But you need to ask the right question. 
15. In eating disorder recovery, omitting information is the same as lying. And it is deceiving to your treatment team. 
16. I'm done now. 

Forgive my lack of organization and poise in this post. Some things I never get out right. Turns out, it's the things that matter. 

Honesty is messy.
Eating disorders kill.
Recovery just hurts. 

Thank you for reading. 

2 comments:

Meagan said...

fuck yea man!!!!! thats all i can say. the chick that wrote this is one awesome, strongm amazing human, and missy that is you!! Im so proud of you and dont you think you ever have to live up to ANYONES expectations, not mine, not the worlds, not anyone but Jenn. You amaze me with your strength. You think it doesn't take an awesome person to just up and lay shit out..it does, and girl there are always gonna be haters- misery loves company, but I kow and you know you dont need that shit- so start deleting. Delete that negativity. Delete those people and delete those thoughts. You do need to take time to focus on you. Jenn you deserve it damn it. You can't hide anymore....I will pull you out of your hole kicking and screaming if I have to. I know what it feels like to be in that hole....and I also know what it feels like to be out of it, looking around at this world. This shit is amazing. Theres lots of amazing people, places, and experiences that await you, and love, you are truly one of the most amazing things,not just people, amazing things ever. Im so so so proud of you. Im proud of you for being who you are and Im proud of you for taking tat filter off. I know its scary and I know its hard, but you deserve to be heard.....and I am anxious to hear everything you have to say. You go girl!

Ann Brechwald said...

Ok - here goes. I am not a disinterested observer, I am Jenn's Mom. She was a gift to me when she was 11, and came as part of the package with her Father. Needless to say, I love them both - then and now. I have no other wish for her than two things: 1) stop being afraid to succeed because you think you don't deserve it, and 2) find the path out of the maze that ends in being comfortable in your own skin. I think you are beautiful, intelligent, caring, funny, outspoken, and sometimes ornery, confused, and sad. I love you. Bottom line, I love you. Mom.

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