Thursday, February 9, 2012

Buck Up, Baby.

Bad days. Oh yes....Jenn has them. See that? Just tried to detach myself from it.I've often had trouble about blogging about the bad stuff. Don't want to be a bummer. As logically as I know that bad days happen, I don't want mine in focus, But I can't see anything else right now.

And here I sit. Fighting the frustrated tears. The scared to death, frozen tears. Plans of crash dieting swirling in my mind...no, no NO. My therapist - my soundboard - will be leaving soon. Fuck. There is virtually no one else that will listen to me so openly. I feel like I am the only one with this thing....this death sentence. That's what it feels like anyway.

There comes a time when I just can't trudge ahead right now. I am having a bad moment, I am......scared. Big time. Not sure if I'm ready. Want someone to walk with me. Don't think people have time. And I am so envious and  jealous of alcoholics who can just pick up and go to a meeting. More power to them.

Suck it up, hon. Put on your big girl panties and deal. F that. Watch me cry like a baby.

This is a bad day. Consider yourself introduced.

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Exam Room - Where Possibilities Explode.

I'm always reminded when it's the day for my doctor's appointment that I need to "Get my head out of the clouds, kid. Reality check." Up until this very day, I was seeing my MD on a weekly basis. And I have been for a long time. Accountability check. Today, I graduated to bi-weekly visits. This is no small feat, mind you! It means I have progressed and feel comfortable enough to be on my own that long...without a check.

No stranger to the exam room, I take my proper place and let the MA do her stuff. Pressure, temp. Ooops, she bonked me on the head today with that thing. No biggie. But I always anxiously wait for them to leave. I love to be alone in that exam room while I wait for my doc.

I've looked at magazines, snooped in the cabinets, stolen tongue depressors and returned them, saying I'm sorry. I've looked at the forms in the file on the table, the BMI chart on the door and the instruments that dangle from the wall, waiting to be used. I've taken a nap on the cold, hard linoleum while waiting for test results to come in. I've spun around in circles as I sat on that round stool on wheels designated solely for the physician. I've curled up on the exam table, turned off the lights and covered my head with my sweatshirt....just waiting.

But lately I have designated the exam table to be my own personal blank canvas. That crinkly, annoyingly loud paper that protects the table has become the dumping ground for countless words and drawings by me. Each time I walk into the room, I am greeted with blank paper. I'm never without something to write with. Even if it's a faded pink highlighter.

Often, what I choose to put on the paper is spontaneous. I've asked questions that I've been too afraid to ask...I've drawn a holiday scene. Make a turkey at Thanksgiving by tracing my hand! Often what I write down is meant specifically for my physician. It may be a genuine concern, observations, or in today's case, a personal declaration. I chose to answer the question proposed by pastors Monty and Konrad: How do you want to be remembered? And I just took that and ran with it. Here's what I came up with.

How I Want To Be Remembered.

  • I'm bold.
  • Defender of those that can't defend themselves.
  • Someone that was guided by love.
  • Creator of the "Smile Project" - a ground breaking stunt that paved the way for which I am to follow.
  • Mother and Guardian of two fine boys.
  • Forever curious of people and their personalities, behaviors.
  • No matter how much I've chatted with them...always humbled to speak to authors.
  • Crazy, obsessed manipulator of words and lover of language.
  • Passionate about expression - in whatever medium it comes from.
  • Vigilant of my past but refuse to let it identify who I am.
  • Teller of the truth - no matter how many times I have suffered in doing so.
  • If I have blue ink smudged on the underside of my left hand, it was a good day!
  • Marveled and day dreamed about positively being called Recovered.
  • Always gave my deepest thanks to the people that have fought and believed on my behalf.
  • Responded most to people that challenged me. When asked to "Bring It", I whole-heartedly complied. That phrase became my way of life - my mantra.
  • Knitter of things to be given away. Found great things are possible with different yarn weights and colors.
  • Aggressively followed and pursued victory for people in Idaho that suffer with eating disorders.
  • Some of my biggest influences are former drug addicts.
  • Aware of my weaknesses and how they can be utilized in my life in a positive manner.
  • Firmly believe that the greatest of all medical doctors will share something about themselves and encourage others. Knitting has become a healing practice in its own right. It still holds the power to calm all corners of my soul.
  • Firmly believe that honest compassion involves admitting your own weaknesses and struggles.
  • Always admitted fault if I was wrong - no matter how my pride got in the way.
  • Never forgot where I came from, who believed in me, who didn't want to bother with me and who actively engaged me. I've taken from EVERYONE.
  • Always a little scared, a bit intimidated. May I never get so full of myself that I forget there are bigger things. Like...GOD.
  • If you scare me, I will tell you so and tell you why.
  • And if you alter my course because of who you are and what I've learned from you....I will tell you so.
  • I don't believe in sugar-coating. Just be honest. It is what it is, and you can't cover up the ugly reality.
  • The Soul of the Healer. Random, gentle reminder from one MD that treating really is a two-way street. Be mindful of the feelings, frustrations and concerns of the person entrusted to guard your health.
I discovered as I kept writing that not one thing is most important to me. Each one of these things, and ones yet to be discovered, are equally important to me. In each thing listed, I learned something. I was taught. I was encouraged and shown .....mercy. I was inspired. Grateful.. Forever grateful.

I found it a great gift and privilege to be able to reflect on these things now and not as something I did later in life. After all, the things I choose now impact everyone around me later on. Oh....and one more thing.

  • May my two sons, Andrew and William, walk in love. Wisdom. Truth. May they love each other, love God and be proud of the young men they will become. And may their influence spread like wildfire.

Thanks very much for reading.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

This.....Voice Thing.

Ok, someone help me out here because I'm a little.....unsure?

Finding your voice and using it. I stayed quiet, shy, you name it for so long. They called me crazy girl in high school. I had no interest in communication.

So......now I have cases of really bad verbal diarrhea. My head reels with everything I have to say, and my lips can't keep up. But things are coming out.

While doing my taxes the other day, my husband and I were waiting for our $50 bill so we could go home. An employee asked if we'd like some soda, tea,.....coffee? I told him "I want our $50 so we can go home." Everyone in the waiting room laughed and the employee walked away.

Really? I looked at my husband, confused. What did I say that was so funny? A little while later another employee came along and asked the same freaking thing. My response with a little more irritation was: "I'd like our $50 so we can go home."  Could not believe that everyone laughed ....AGAIN!!

So....I really wasn't rude. I wasn't joking. Straight face, eye contact...whole nine yards. But I was downright honest and it was funny?

Maybe I should reconsider my life as an introvert.

Yah right. I've been yakking lately, so there's no stopping me....

Do you think that maybe once we learn and have the courage to use our voice, we mean business when we do?? I find myself saying things I would have NEVER said 3 years ago. Giving my opinion. Delicately. Honesty with people. Telling people things they should hear...cause I love them.

But what the freak up with the laughter???

Friday, February 3, 2012


Mourning ED

I don't understand why it's normal. Why is it a sign of recovery? I don't get how I could possibly cry and mourn over realizing that this is the end of my eating disorder, diagnoses ED-NOS and Bulimia Nervosa. But it happened. Without me even realizing it.

I was just washing dinner dishes....nothing unique. Kids were playing and I had a glorious, laughter filled day. But as I washed the dishes, my lip started trembling. And I started to sniffle....by the time I realized I had tears forming in my eyes, it was loud and clear: This is the end of my disorder. I occasionally looked up at my reflection in the window. Claiming identity in the eating disorder for 19 years, I had finally understood and willfully accepted that that's not who I was. It was something I had. And it was my time....doing dishes and putting them away....to move on. I realized I have no time or room to hold vigil to an eating disorder. It demanded all of me, and I was unwilling to participate. I knew...I just KNEW that I had better things waiting for me. I had a dream and vision to pursue. And I knew I was doing it with encouragement and confirmation from God. And I was finally able to cry about the loss of this disordered relationship and not feel any question or emptiness.

I felt calm. Sure. Confident in my future and the work that I am doing. I know it's right. It's meant to be. And I finally realized that ----------------------->

It's been there all the time. I knew it but wasn't satisfied with it. And God let me take my time.

And my therapist is leaving. I've been with her for 3 years. Weekly. Am I nervous? Yep. Scared beyond my wildest imagination? OH YAH. How do I feel now that my treatment team is minimized to 2 people? Ridiculously worried that I will have to say goodbye to someone else. I'm not ready for that. But I'm not ready to lose Kristin yet, either. But maybe God thinks I am. Perhaps he's tired of my stalling tactics and decided to up the ante. I wouldn't put it past Him. I'm stubborn as hell.

I'm going to need help. That's a fact. And I'll admit it. Just did. if you know me....please watch me. Question me if you think something is wrong. And just know that I am still in mourning. I don't know when I will get out. But I'm not going to rush this. Time to think about me and go with it....gently. Time to make up for 19 years of bondage. The chains have been removed.

Welcome back.


Thank you for reading.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Farewell, Kristin

My therapist, Kristin, informed me yesterday that she's moving. I instantly just thought to a new locale here in Boise. Um....no. Virginia. That may make weekly visits a tad bit difficult. I'm feeling really optimistic about it at the current moment. Panic has not set in. Tad bit freaked is all. I don't have too long. Spring Break. I'm ok, I'm ok......I think.
Regret flooded me when she told me. All the crap games I have played. The bending of the truth at times. Getting pissy with her when she told me the nasty, ugly truth. Letting my "bitchy teeanaged girl" show. That's her description, by the way. Endlessly questioned if I really want to get better or not. Here I had this smart chick, a licensed psychologist, help me out each week. But, no. I wouldn't give up ED so easily.

I wonder if I can cram 3 years of goofing off into a few weeks of total make-up!! Not likely. Besides, that wouldn't be classic me. This is just a case of don't know what you have 'till it's gone. While I totally embrace freedom of expression, I'm doing quite a good job at holding back all the obscenities swirling around in my head. But....when I swear, Kristin will swear back.

I will not have a new therapist. My choice. But I'm getting this flashing "CAUTION" sign in my head right now. Besides, if records were ever requested from Kristin, there's NO WAY someone would want to take me on! I'd question their credentials if they did.

I'm going to miss my blonde-haired, blue-eyed therapist. I will miss telling her her office is too hot and then play with the thermostat. She still doesn't have a 2012 calendar in there. Alas! She let me down! Who's going to sit in random spots in her office? Will she even have a new office? And who's going to have staring contests with her? Who's going to have staring contests with ME? Who on earth will hold the talent of making a grown woman cry just by asking "Why?" in the softest tone? And where the heck else am I going to find a doctor that brings me DIET COKE???

I trusted. She honored that. She never gave up on me. Though I'll give her crap, she isn't abandoning me. She's got a lovely little fam bam. It's the right choice for her. And that's important, too. Totally.

Well, Miss Kristin.....I have the utmost respect for you. Always have. I love you for helping me. For continually challenging me and making me think. For pressing all the right buttons. Whether you believe it or not....I am more focused and grounded after being in cahoots with you each week. God bless you, chick.
And safe travels for you and your family.
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