I don't want anything.

She’ll spend sleepless nights wondering how a soul with so much love inside of her has found herself so lonely. 
How someone who cries tears of joy at daffodils blooming, laughs at her own mistakes, and peers into people’s energies has become so lost. 
When she looks you in the eye her mind is not elsewhere, and if she smiles wistfully it’s only because she spots the same powerful green her father carried with him until the day he died - his heart open and willing until the end.

She makes up love stories in her mind, the details so real you would swear they were borrowed from the novel she just hungrily tore through, but they are of her own making. The look across a crowded soirée her hypothetical soulmate casts in her direction. If you’re too slow you’ll miss it. But her head is always tuned in to his brain waves. 
The electric energy that sparks each time her feet strike the city pavement reflected in the bright marquee shouting her name. 
The pride that swells in her chest as the audience leaps to their feet and the glowing flame of pure, unconditional love when she sees him…whoever he is…clapping along. 
There would be no need for words, because in God’s final draft of us, she believes we will not speak. Words only ever complicate things, and life could be lived as it was inside the web she travelled nightly as a child. Inside that web she never spoke. 
She only felt. 
She was only understood.

The feelings are so real to her. So utterly tangible and although she knows she’ll regret investing in them, at this point it’s the only way she can fall asleep anymore. 
It’s the only way she can calm the thoughts of hatred that course through her body all day, and focus her mind on love. 
The kind of love that needs no words.
That sings her lullabies off key and lets her ride her bike with no hands…because although it’s more dangerous, it’s the closest she’s ever been to flying. 
She dreams of this soul and feels guilty when she realizes how much he is just a permutation of the man she misses every day, taken from her too soon. 
She drifts off nightly, hoping she’ll be visited by her father.
But that too is dangerous. 
Seeing as she’ll only be disappointed when she wakes up.

That which does not serve you...

Let go of that which does not serve you. 

Roads to Recovery: Josie's Story

It's time for another story in "Roads to Recovery"!  I am very excited about this one.  In 2012, I packed up everything and moved to Minnesota to live and work in Lanesboro at the Commonweal Theatre Company.  Little did I know that I would find my happy place an hour south in Decorah, Iowa.  In this unassuming little town I found my favorite coffee shop, summer adventures, and a best friend!  I had countless amazing days and nights in Decorah, where I would squirrel away to when I was sick of putting on my happy face for everyone.  One of the awesome people I met in Decorah was Josie, who works at the Oneota Co-op.  She would ring me up for my Vegan Turkey Mango Madness every week and we would chat about this and that...and before we knew it, we were great friends!  Since my tenure at the Commonweal, we have remained in touch and through her amazing blog, I discovered that we have more in common than I already thought.  I was thrilled when she agreed to share her story here, because it has been an inspiration to me since my early days of recovery.  

Something that most people aren’t aware of is that I’ve struggled with an eating disorder. Primarily bulimia but at times I minimized what I ate and purged that as well. It’s something that has taken a long while for me to stop feeling shame over. Over the years I’ve heard comments about how disgusting I was or the typical “Why would anyone want to throw up?”

People looked at me like I was an unwanted fungus; no one seemed to get the concept that I had an eating disorder. It’s an addiction and has probable genetic links. Long story short, I felt very alone at times and it took me several years to finally curb my addictive behavior. However, that does not mean that my ties of ED are cut completely. Not at all. I still struggle with (on a regular basis) self-image issues that seem to completely baffle those who know me. That is one of the residual after-effects of ED and something that flares up often.

I was dealing with ED during my junior year in high school and my senior year. Eventually I cut back on my destructive habits and would periodically fall back and forth for several years until probably 2007. My relationship with food was still pretty bad, but I managed to stop purging for the most part (minus extremely stressful situations.) I’m not entirely sure why I was able to stop, but I managed to-however my main vice then turned into cigarettes.

After several years, in 2010 I decided I was tired of doing things to my body that were negative. I can’t replace one vice with another unhealthy vice and expect to have everything go away. So I quit smoking. It was easy because I for some reason was never really addicted to cigarettes; not sure why I was lucky.

It wasn’t until 2012 I decided I needed to find something to do for my physical health. I’ve never enjoyed exercise, especially if it felt like work or was too mundane. I was doing a kickboxing routine for awhile and enjoying that. Then one day I woke up and said “I’m going to buy a bicycle.” I was tired of driving to work on beautiful days, wasting the last few minutes of my life before work in a hot and stuffy car. It seemed so pointless. However, allergies and (and unknown exercise induced asthma) prevented me from wanting to walk to work. I thought a bicycle would be a great way to get me to work without too much physical exertion. However, I still had fears of car traffic and worried if I would even be a good rider.

That Friday I bought a bike. It was clunky, heavy, and homely…but I loved him. I named him Sir Richard the Ironhearted and rode him almost every day. That Monday I rode him on the Trout Run Trail, on the flat part past the Hatchery and back. I found I really enjoyed riding! It was exercise but not! I wasn’t bored and it didn’t feel mundane. My mind had found peace and that felt amazing.

My first few months of riding my bicycle were huge in terms of opening me up. The exercise helped reduce my stress and keep my depression at bay. I felt less edgy. I was becoming more confident in my handling skill. I became happier. I realized with all of these changes that more had to happen-finding out what I needed/wanted, divorce, and finding love again.

I’ve been riding regularly now since 2012 and have graduated to newer bicycles and different styles of riding. You’ll find me not only on paved surfaces, but on mountain bike trails too! This is not to say that everything is rainbows and sunshine…The very real and frustrating aspect over my mental self is continually making peace with food and my body image. Cycling has changed my body and for me, it took a long time to actually notice the changes. I’m much more muscular and toned than I used to be. The other thing about working out regularly? You need to eat more to fuel your body. That was a hard lesson for me, and still is. I have to eat food…especially if I want to keep riding or help my body recover from a hard ride. I would ride or increase the duration of my rides and find myself getting hungry much earlier than I planned or anticipated. It took time (and still requires effort some days) to accept this and allow myself to have sustenance. My personality likes to dance with the idea that inhabits my addictive personality…that I have to ride in order to eat. It is so completely not true. This is what makes the much-needed rest days difficult for me sometimes. The addictive personality that likes to hide in the dark corners of my mind says “You didn’t bike, you shouldn’t eat.” Okay, perhaps I should limit the chocolate that I intake but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t eat anything at all, that’s ridiculous!

This is one of the reasons why many people say that you never really are “cured” from an eating disorder; you manage it for the rest of your life. Riding my bicycle(s) had really helped me overcome many obstacles that have been in my way for years. It’s given me the courage to make changes in my life, to become healthier, and to do something good for myself that I long-denied. It’s one of the ways that I show my inner-person that I really do care about me and my body. It’s the only body I have and I want it to be strong.

I may never look like the models on TV with the so-called “ideal” body. No. That is something that I have been working on to accept for many years now. I’m not going to magically grow taller, have bigger breasts, longer torso, firmer stomach, or delicate ankles. Nope. I’m going to be short with broad shoulders, powerhouse legs covered in bruises, magnificent arms, and a damn fine booty.

I want a body that helps me climb the rocky hills, maneuver down sketchy turns, and pedal over the roots that lie in my path. I want the body that works hard, has “battle scars” and shows other women that they can accomplish great things on a bicycle. I want the body that eats the food it needs in order to keep on riding, because that is what it loves to do.

I can’t lie. There are days where I fight against myself, but I’ve learned to tell that inner voice of self-destructive behavior to just take a hike. I’ll rest when I need to, eat when I feel hungry, and keep working on loving myself for me.

Thank you, Josie!! You're story and passion for cycling are things that inspire me every day. You are an amazing woman! Please read Josie's blog, Life on Two Wheels and like it on Facebook! I love reading about her biking adventures and getting a peek into her life in Decorah. I can't wait to come back and visit!

August Self Care Challenge

August has been treating me pretty well so far.  I moved into my new tiny home, I went to opening night of an amazing show, I was visited by dear friends, and every day I am actually (but like actually) happier and happier that I decided to make the permanent move to St. Pete. 

I have 2 really bad habits that I am constantly working on, and they go hand in hand.  I am very hard on myself, but at the same time I put on a front that I am constantly happy.  I have made humongous strides with both of these things.  In every place I have lived prior to St. Pete, anyone would assume I was the "happiest girl in the world" (direct quote), and there were times where I was incredibly happy!!  But there were also times where I was in my head verbally abusing myself, and then dealing with it by posting super positive statuses for the world to see.  I look back on that time with confusion and sadness, but I know I'm not the only one who does this.  Even my therapist chuckled heartily when I said one of my goals for treatment was "100% self love." To which she replied, "You're even a perfectionist in therapy...no one in the entire world loves themselves 100% of the time.  We do what we can, and when we can't, we figure out how to get through it. Stop being so hard on yourself." 

In order to take care of myself, I have to be able to be surrounded by people I love, being able to do what I love, in a community that I love.  Check, check, and check!  

The main reason I chose to come here and then stay here happens to be exactly what I wanted to post about: self care.  I obviously don't have a good track record for it, and once I realized how many of my behaviors were actually self harm, I honestly got quite overwhelmed.  I would never treat another person like that, so why am I treating myself like that?!  I loved being in New York, but I couldn't take care of myself.  The place I went for treatment was amazing, but I was constantly exhausted, had to work all the time in order to make rent and pay for therapy, was walking everywhere (not ideal when you're supposed to NOT EXERCISE), and just wanted to quit.  Quite frankly, I was getting worse.  I knew I couldn't sustain it, so I left.  It felt a whole lot like giving up at the time, but looking back, I was making the smart decision.  

I'm a very goal oriented person, so I decided that this month my personal goal would be self care.  I found this challenge on tumblr which gives you an incredibly easy task to do.  I've been doing well on it, and I'm excited that today's goal is something I do every day anyway (YOGA!!  I hate going a day without spending time on my mat).  I hope some of you all will join me in this challenge...whether you follow this particular list, or make your own.  In society, self love is often viewed as self indulgence, when really you're just taking care of the most important person in the world - YOU. 

Happy August! 

Ten.

With the start of each new month, I celebrate how far I've come, and how far I still have to go. Some might see that as self indulgent and excessive, but I have learned how important it is to celebrate every single victory, no matter how small. I also believe that maybe in doing so, I will inspire others to realize that living with whatever mental health issue you have is just not worth it.  It has now been 10 months since the day I first began extracting my disorder from my life, bit by bit.  That day in October I looked inside myself and whispered "please leave." It was timid, unsure, and quiet.  It was muttered in between sobs.  It was forced, because I wanted more than anything to stay curled up under my security blanket of lies and disassociation. I remember spending the majority of the previous day crying, and waking up that morning feeling as though a mack truck had run over me, thinking "well...here we go...the rest of my life."

I will never sugar coat recovery.  I will never tell you that I woke up, having decided to eliminate anorexia from my life, ate some pancakes, and it was all uphill from there.  I will never idealize this process.  I will, however, say that it is the best thing I have ever done.

I have lost a lot in these 10 months, I have gone through serious withdrawals, and serious grief.  I have lost Emily - that constant friend who was always by my side, who claimed to know me better than anyone, but in reality was suffocating me.  I have lost coping mechanisms that allowed me to detach myself from truly feeling.  I have lost the body I had grown accustomed to.  I have lost the sick pleasure I got in having people stare and whisper about me.

And yet, there is so much more I have gained...

10 - Strength

9- Flexibility (both physically and mentally) 

8 - Brain Space 

7 - Self Love

6 - Hope 

5 - Honesty

4 - Energy

3 - Courage

2 - Joy

1 - A Future (because if we are completely honest, without recovery my options were death, or being hooked up to a feeding tube in a hospital, which is not living)

This morning I woke up to 10,000 views on this blog, which is completely overwhelming and amazing.  Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.  This blog has become something that saves my life daily, and I can't express how much it means to me to have people read my story as it unfolds.  You ALL are part of this journey.  I couldn't do it without you.  <33