Everything's different, nothing has changed...

Every year I try to make some sort of post about the holidays, because I know how hard it can be to go to parties, see loved ones, and come home.  No matter who you are, the holiday season can be stressful.  There's an expectation of happiness and cheer and more often than not, it doesn't play out the way we want.  The holidays can be especially hard if you are struggling with food or body issues, and for me, December used to be my worst month.  For 5+ years, this time of year terrified me.  There are still some deeply ingrained, visceral moments of panic that I experience, even to this day, but luckily I am able to deal with them and realize they are irrational.  But it wasn't always that easy!!  

Having this perspective on the holiday season has been interesting to say the least.  Even before I was technically sick, this time of year was hard for me.  I lost my father when I was 12, and every Christmas after that was super tough.  My dad was such a big part of Christmas for me - dragging him out of his bed on Christmas morning, watching him intently as he opened his gift from me, staying in our PJ's all day.  Without him, nothing seemed right.  I would cry when I decorated the house because I knew no matter how hard I tried to perfectly place every ornament on the tree, nothing would be the same.  

I think that's a thing a lot of us suffer from this time of year - the high expectation and the rose colored memories of holidays past.  I know I always will.  That's a tough thing to let go of, and I think a lot of times that feeling bleeds over into how we treat ourselves and our bodies during this time of year.   So here are some more tips to get through this crazy time.  I know how hard it is.  

1. Traditions are cool, but they're not the most important part of the holiday.  As someone who literally has a disorder that makes me need to do things or else I'll have panic attacks (it's called OCD and it's somethin' else, people) I understand that this can be incredibly difficult to comprehend.  But, if you have to forgo some part of your holiday routine, you'll live.  Maybe you don't have the money to travel this year, or you don't have the time to bake cookies.  And that's okay!  Be kind to yourself.  It's a stressful time of year, and we can only do so much. 

2. Find a new thing to be excited for THIS year.  It might be Hanson's new Christmas CD or it might be new friends to celebrate with.  OR it might be a Christmas card exchange.  Travelling to a new place.  Decorating the house a different way.  It can be little or big, just so long as it brings you happiness.  Nothing will ever be the same as it was, because that is how life and time works.  So instead of bending over backwards to recreate a holiday that probably wasn't that perfect anyway, put your energy into finding new ways to cultivate joy. 

3. You DO NOT HAVE TO MAKE UP (or feel bad) FOR WHAT YOU ATE. I know I've given this tip before but it astounds me how every year I'll make some kind of post about this very thing, literally HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE will like/love/comment, and then those very same people are the ones making their own posts about feeling guilty about the cookies/drinks/whatever.  Food. and. guilt. don't. belong. in. the. same. sentence.  I don't care what you ate yesterday.  I DON'T CARE.  You're still a good person with good intentions and you're still my friend.  It's not a hard concept to grasp.  Look society in the face and put the cookie in your mouth and realize that you don't have to feel BAD ABOUT IT, JEEZ.  

4. If you need to take a break, that is okay!  If you're overwhelmed by everything going on, or your family is driving you crazy, or you're behind on shopping and feeling panicked, or you just feel bad thoughts creeping in, take a breather.  Use those healthy coping skills I suggested you develop and carve out an hour (just an hour!  you can still get everything done, I promise!)  to do some stretches, or work on your crocheting, or color in your adult coloring book, or play your ukulele.  

5. Share those beautiful gifts. Again, this is a repeat, but I think it's worth repeating.  Pick the thing the universe has given you that has nothing to do with your body or how you look or how much space you take up.  And it doesn't have to be some incredible talent, it can just be the fact that you can make people smile, or make someone feel good about themselves, or that you're a good listener.  Those are all amazing gifts.  You don't need to recreate anything that has happened before.  This moment is all we have, so use this moment to share your incredible capabilities with the world around you.  

I hope everyone has an amazing month!!  Be kind to yourselves, and remember...no one cares if you eat the cookie. 

Literally.  Not one single person.

I love you.

Peace, Love, and Rock n' Roll til New Years Night,

KT 

If I wait for summer to begin...

Holy wow, it's been a while, hasn't it?  I was even joking with my sister, who has a blog she actually updates regularly, that blogging is not my thing.  But writing definitely IS my thing, so I'm going to keep this little website in my back pocket for whenever I need or want it.  It's been with me through a whole heck of a lot.

So it's the end of May, you guys!!  Isn't that...crazy?  I feel like time is always flying by so fast.  I'm getting sick of saying "I can't believe it's *insert month here*", but I can't!  So anyway, SUMMER.  I have always loved the summer months.  Even after I graduated and became an ~adult~ there was just something about this time of year that put a tingle of possibility in my bones.  Growing up, summer meant being in a production, or at musical theatre camp, or going on a fun trip.  It meant new friends and new places and dreams as big as the sky over the arboretum.  My favorite memories are summers. Living in the musical theatre bubble of GSA, spending twelve hours a day at Lexington Children's Theatre, performing Rent or Hair or Once on this Island, moving to St. Pete and doing The Burnt Part Boys.

Around this time of year I get an itch.  It's the feeling that something BIG is about to happen, and I know that it's just my body saying "heyyyyy you're about to do a project or go on a trip"  even when it's not actually the case anymore (adulthood, am I right?).  So I guess my challenge to myself, and to all of you, is to USE that itch.  That summery restless feeling where our fingers and toes tell us that school is out, time to do something that we could write a YA novel about, but our brains know that we're still going to have to get up for work every day.  Use it to pick up an old hobby, or go to the beach, or go on a day trip, or spend a Saturday reading adventure novels.  Or...you know...actually do something crazy. Realize that dream you've been thinking about all winter. It's summer, after all.

Restoration

I am 40 lbs up from my lowest weight.  I am a person that has gained 40 lbs (which also means I am a person that at one time lost around 40 lbs, which is even crazier to me).  I am not particularly happy or sad about this, but I think being virtually emotionless is actually the best place I could be.  I’m not jumping for joy because who would, but I’m also not wanting to kill myself over the fact that I weigh more than I ever had.  Far from it.  I’m actually the happiest I’ve ever been. 

When I started this journey to recovery, I thought the day I became restored would be my undoing.  I couldn’t fathom a life in which I wasn’t the small little sack of bones I had grown so accustomed to.  But honestly, now that I’m restored (and then some…my doctor said this is normal and I will most likely taper) here I am, living.  And I think the main reason why I am able to accept this body right now is the fact that this disorder was NEVER ABOUT WEIGHT.  I never set out to lose weight.  That was never a thing.  It started happening and then I couldn’t stop. I was never overweight and I am still not.  Which just means I was frighteningly UNDER weight at my lowest, which makes me want to go back in time and cradle myself and tell myself it’s all going to be okay. 

Do I LOVE my body?  No.  I still feel like it’s completely foreign to me.  I look in the mirror ready to see the person I was even a year ago. Growing out of clothes fucking sucks.   The fact that I put on more than half of what I weighed in 2013 is actually overwhelming, and it’s something that I’m still getting used to.  But now I look at pictures of myself at that time and I am flabbergasted at the fact that it got that bad.  I was so incredibly sick.  I don’t know how I did it.  I don’t know how I functioned.  When I was at my low weight for whatever reason pictures of me from high school (when I was my natural, set point) embarrassed me.  I guess I just didn’t want people to compare the past and present and realize that there was something VERY wrong going on.  Yesterday I looked at a bunch of pictures from then (thank you, day off boredom) and I started tearing up because I looked so happy, so free, so uninhibited, and frankly I found myself commenting in my head about how beautiful I looked.  Me.  Saying that about myself??  Something that has never happened.  I went through high school not focused on my appearance but I would NEVER have said I was pretty.  

I’m proud of myself for a few things.  I’m proud that I gained the weight.  It had to happen.  As hard as it was and still is, it had to happen. I’m proud that I was able to do it over an extended period of time so that I didn’t suffer any health risks.  While drawing it out was a challenge mentally, it was better in the long run.  I’m proud that things don’t scare me anymore.  When I started recovery, restoration was my number one fear.  And here I am.  

2014

...So that’s how I started my new year. 2014. With tunnel vision from lack of oxygen. With my brother stroking my back, telling me to just breathe, you’ll get through this. With me wishing I didn’t have to feel anymore. With my mother in tears telling me she can’t keep watching me kill myself.  

In 2014 I...

Relapsed.
Cried.
Had lots of panic attacks.
Played Bingo.
Had numerous days when I couldn't get out of bed.
Spent countless hours on my living room couch.
Missed Emily.
Hated Emily.
Hated myself.
Yelled at Emily.
Played a lot of ukulele.
Watched a lot of Netflix..
Thought I would never get passed the bad part of recovery.
Rediscovered how fucking awesome my curls are.
Was in a parade.
Entered a pageant.
Got banned from a pageant.
Got fired.
Quit.
Went to a lot of therapy.
Wrote a lot of songs.
Relapsed again.
Spent a lot of time on tumblr.
Faked it.
Did a lot of art.
Reconnected with amazing friends.
Went to Savannah.
Moved to St. Pete.
Made some best friends.
Fell in love with a few Burnt Part Boys.
Went to the beach.
Watched a lot of soccer.
Climbed that mountain.
Looked up and headed for the sun.
Missed my boys.
Got an apartment.
Relapsed again.
Went into the woods.
Waited in the dark until I set myself free.
Knew things now.
Cried a lot.
Cried some more.
Won an award.
Conquered some demons.
Made some more friends.
Found a family.
Had a lot of feelings.
Wrote.
Sang.
Freaked out.
Wrote some more.
Finished a musical.
Shared that musical.
Went back again, only different than before.

Top 5 Moments of 2014:

1. Burnt Part Boys
2. Getting my tiny home
3. TTB Awards
4. Into the Woods
5. Full

Now let's see how I did with those resolutions....
1. Kick Emily Out 
2. Finish my musical
3. Up my yoga game 
4. Up my uke game 
5. Blog
6. Get back to NYC - This resolution was made when I still felt like I was failing at being a human and the only way to stop failing was to somehow get back to New York City.  Little did I know what the universe had in store for me.  Instead of schlepping my way back to a restaurant job in the big apple, I went south to St. Pete where I have found so much happiness, artistic fulfillment, and the best family a girl could ask for.  I still want to get back to NYC eventually (Mike and Miriam, I can't promise emotional stability as a roomie, but I can promise that we will always have the CUTEST APARTMENT IN THE WORLD and I will always walk our hypothetical future dog), but I really really love where I am right now, and I am proud to call St. Pete home.

Get at me, 2015...

Coming Home.

Coming home a year ago was really hard. I was excited to get out of NYC because I felt like I was failing.  I was failing at recovery, failing at living in the city, failing at making enough money to sustain my treatment, and most of all I was absolutely failing at anorexia. Now I know that you can't put your faith in a cape and a hood, they will not protect you the way that they should.  My disorder had become my security blanket (much like Little Red found comfort in her cape) and it was slowly slipping away from me which was the scariest thing that had ever happened.  But I also felt like I wasn't recovering very well or very quickly.  I was in a strange no man's land - not disordered, not recovered...not a little girl, but not an adult. So I came home because I honestly didn't know what else to do.  I had to put everything on hold and commit myself 100% to detoxing anorexia out of my life. Needless to say I relapsed about 3 days into being back.  Awesome.  New Years Eve I even broke out my old bag of tricks and told my mom I was eating with my sister, told my sister I had eaten with my mom, and then didn't eat at all. I felt the buzz of hunger in my brain that night, and coasted on the high for as long as I could.  I felt invincible.  I felt light.  And then I woke up feeling like absolute crap the next morning, and proceeded to have maybe the worst panic attack of my life.  I felt very much like I was back to square one.

Why am I telling you all this?  Because it is an extreme case of how hard the holidays and coming home to see family and friends can be. Seeing people and cramming all of our friends into the few short days we have at home can be extremely stressful, even when it doesn't need to be. We tend to revert back to old habits, whether they be restricting, snapping at family, isolating ourselves, or running away (For those of you dealing with ED specific problems, here's a post that might help ease some of the stress).

I mentioned to my Mom last night that I don't identify as an anorexic in any way anymore.  I identify as someone who has recovered.  Who has gone through the battle field and somehow, some way, made it to the other side.  I also don't believe any one ever TRULY loses every single bit of their disorder.  Emily will always whisper in my ear every once in a while (she loves to show up at holiday parties), but while that used to drive me to do irrational things, now I say "lol ok but also you're not real."  That's recovery.  That's coming home and being excited to see my family and friends.

Just remember when you're venturing home for the holidays that people are going to probably say stupid things.  Loved ones might make a comment about how you act or look differently.  Siblings might push your buttons.  Parents might nag you.  Friends might seem distant.  But that is no reason to change or lose the growth you have accomplished over the past year.  We are ever changing beings in this insane, difficult, amazing world - and we deserve to celebrate our accomplishments.

Happy Holidays, everyone.  I love you. <33

It's the most wonderful time...

For almost five years of my life, December was a terrifying month.  Parties revolving around food, calorie laden drinks, cookies, candy, and big meals with the family.  I would always feel like all eyes were on me. Of course, this was not the case, but because of the intense anxiety brought on by this time of year, my bad habits would get out of control.

I don't claim to be 100% recovered, because frankly...who is?!  I still have bad thoughts and hear occasional whispers from Emily.  But I'm pretty darn close and now, looking back on the things I would do around the holidays, I honestly get incredibly sad that I ever thought that was okay.  Starting around this time (December 1st) I would restrict as much as I could before I went home to Lexington, because I knew once I got home it would be much harder to do so.  I would load up on fruit and salads, and cut corners where possible.  Depending on where I was geographically, I would either go to the gym once a day or take a few walks (even if it was snowing) followed by ab work in my bedroom.  I would find any excuse possible to not attend holiday parties, and if I failed at that, I would eat maybe...an apple leading up to the event and go into it cloudy and feeling slightly intoxicated.  If I knew I was going out drinking I would skip dinner and proceed to get accidentally drunk.  I would plan to get a fancy hot chocolate from Starbucks and then chicken out and get a black tea.  Even last year, when I was doing pretty well...the holiday season sent me into a relapse.

No wonder I would go into the week of Christmas completely on edge.

Because the holidays can be a very scary time for many people, here are some tips to get through it so that you don't succumb to any permutation of the bad habits I described above.

1.Remember what you are doing affects others: You might think it's none of their business, but every time you decline an invitation or snap at someone out of frustration, you are hurting them.  You dragging them through a portion of the hell you are experiencing, and no one deserves that, especially this time of year.

2. Develop healthy coping skills: One thing that used to happen a lot to me during the holidays was people's schedules not lining up with mine, which would send me into horrible anxiety attacks.  Family dinners would always be "too early" for me and I would leave the table feeling guilty.  If this happens to you, don't beat yourself up about it.  Develop coping skills to utilize after a big meal - yoga stretches to aid bloating, writing in a journal, practicing your ukulele, playing a board game with your family.  Anything to get your mind off of the guilt.

3. Be kind to yourself:  I know (I knoooow) how horrible you can feel after eating an "indulgent" holiday meal.  But guess what.  It doesn't matter.  The world will not end, you will not wake up 10 pounds heavier, and you will still need to eat the next day.  It's true!

4. Don't "make up" for what you ate: Studies show that this works 0% of the time. Don't restrict before or after a party.  Because you will inevitably be a pain to be around and no fun whatsoever.  I won't want to hang out with you, and to be honest I'm a St. Pete celeb so...your loss.

5. React to "lose that holiday weight!!!" the RIGHT way: 'Tis the season for diet tricks and tips to circumvent that pesky holiday pudge.  Guess what...that is a load of BS!!  You see, I know things now, and I know that diet culture is the most stupid thing that ever happened to humanity.  So when you see those articles telling you to hit the gym, only eat 1500 calories, and swap cookies for broccoli (ummmm...), make the decision to laugh in the face of every perfect soccer mom in yoga pants to ever grace the pages of a magazine.  THAT IS NOT REAL LIFE.

6. Pick something about yourself you love no matter what, and never forget that precious gift: December is the month of gifts, so why not focus on one that the universe has bestowed upon you?  For me, it's my voice.  Whenever I have bad body image thoughts, I remember that my voice is there no matter what (unless of course, I starve myself and lose it.  HEYOOOO).  It helps that I sing at my church every Christmas Eve, so I also have the opportunity to share my most precious gift.

So that is my December challenge to all of you.  Whether or not you have anxieties surrounding food this holiday season, take a moment to think about the thing you love most about yourself and actively share it with the people around you.  Maybe you're hilarious...go to a holiday party and get the people laughing!  Maybe you love to paint...give your family art work!  Maybe you are good with kids...offer babysitting services so that new parents can have a date night!  There are countless ways to share your gifts...because that is what this time of year is all about.  <33

Red Strings.

When I was quite a bit younger, I remember hearing the story of the "red string of fate."  It's a Chinese myth which explains how we come to know the important people in our lives.  According to this legend, the gods tie red strings around the ankles of all of those we are destined to meet, and our lives are just the red strings getting shorter and shorter.  I don't remember exactly when I first heard this story, but it has stuck with me ever since.  I love the image of it, and it's something I think about a lot.

As you know, I am a professional actress and I am incredibly lucky to have been quite successful in the years since graduating from college.  I love being able to do what I love and am passionate about for a living (and true, I still need a survival job for in between gigs, but  I love my job and the people I work with so I am not complaining).  But if we're being honest, the hardest part of this career is not the periods of unemployment or staring into the abyss of "ok the show is over NOW WHAT DO I EVEN DO?" It's the falling so deeply in love with so many people and then having to say goodbye over and over again.  This has been on my mind lately because Into the Woods has come to an end and the fact that the holidays are coming up. This year will be the 4th Thanksgiving I have been in a completely different place (Lexington, Lanesboro, New York City, and now St. Pete).  I also have 4 of the best friends in the world who all live in different cities (Chicago, Decorah, Lexington, Tampa). That's tough, ya know?  But the idea of having strong red strings attatched to all of the incredible people I have met in my life makes it so much easier.

I could totally let myself get down in the dumps about the fact that I feel like everyone is always leaving me/I'm always leaving everyone else.  It's probably the number one trigger for my depression.  But instead of focusing on that, I imagine the red strings that are now spread not only all across the country, but all across the world!  I wouldn't trade my career for anything.  I have always felt like a bit of a gypsy (thank you, Mom and Dad, for forcing me to move to Austria when I was five...I've never looked back since), so moving around a lot in order to do theatre has never felt wrong. What feels wrong is how deeply connected I get to people only to say goodbye a month later, but because of this unnatural lifestyle, I could pretty much go anywhere and feel like I'm home because of a friendly face smiling back at me.  The world is so big and so small at the same time, and we are all connected by those incredible red strings of fate.  

I talk about how much my friends mean to me all the time but it's true.  I am obsessed with each and every one of you.  I love you with a fierceness that I will NOT apologize for.  You keep me going, no matter how far away from eachother we are.

Gained.

There are a lot of horrifying moments in recovery.  To count them all would be impossible.  Moments of shame and humiliation.  There are moments you wake up so hungry that you feel like a feral child and find yourself sitting in front of an open fridge eating ketchup out of a bottle.  There are moments you turn on the faucet in the bathroom so no one hears you getting the scales out of the closet.  There are moments you look down at your plate and realize that you actually ate that fear food...and now what??

The hardest moments for me happen in the morning, when I have to shower and get dressed.  Even though I know it's physically impossible, it often feels like I have SURELY gained 20 pounds overnight. Putting on pants that I haven't worn in a few weeks is like summitting a mountain. Looking at my arms is like facing a tank of poisonous snakes.  I think I could take my body filling out any day over my face, but then there are moments when I think the opposite.  Taking pictures is actually torture, and yet I feel this strange pressure to take them and LIKE THEM.  Why?!  Why do I do this to myself?!  I could very easily just not allow people to take my picture, and not take any of myself...I'm still trying to crack this mystery.

ANYWAY, I have definitely gained weight.  I don't know how much because I hid my scales after about a week in April when I was obsessively checking.  Like multiple times a day.  Numbers are my biggest OCD trigger, and so for whatever reason for a week I was weighing myself about 5 times a day.  Again, WHY?!

The thing about gaining weight in recovery is that our brains are SO used to it feeling like a failure that it is extremely hard to view it as a victory.  That is why I try to focus on other things I have gained that are definitely victories.

I have gained...

-Brain space: sometimes it amazes me how much better I am able to focus on things. True story...there are full performances of Spring Awakening that I can't remember because I was so preoccupied with disordered thoughts.  Good thing I knew the show well...

-Healthier hair: My prrrrrecious.

-Friends: I am more open to new friendships and just easier to be around.  I don't cancel plans, I make them.

-Freedom to be my true extroverted self: I am so over pretending I'm an introvert.  My disorder is an introvert. KT is an outspoken, loud, extroverted, choir kid, musical theatre fangirl who makes no apologies for loving the CRAP out of everything.

-Strength and flexibility: It's so weird, when you starve yourself your body doesn't work.

-Vocal range and power: I love belting.

I have gained so much in recovery.  Every day is a new challenge and a new battle, but I will continue to be a warrior and fight the negative voices in my head telling me that gaining happiness is somehow a failure.  That somehow I don't deserve it.  Because we ALL deserve to be happy, and we shouldn't settle for anything less. 

I Know Things Now...

It is certainly no secret that rehearsals for "Into The Woods" are in full swing at freeFall!  If there is one thing actors are good at, it is letting the world know how #blessed we are and bragging about #bookingit via social media.  I am definitely a culprit, but like...why not?!  I want the world to know how excited I am to be playing a dream role at the theatre I am #soblessed to call home!

It's also no secret that this show, like any Sondheim musical, is a doozy musically and lyrically.  I definitely feel challenged...something that excites me and terrifies me simultaneously.  It excites me because I am a Virgo/achiever/leftbrained/go-getter who LOVES to get stuff done and cross off a sensible to do list.  It terrifies me because I have a perfectionist/anxious/never-good-enough mind, and I put a lot of pressure on myself. In the words of the show though, I know that "I am not alone." 

Being in this process brings to mind feelings from another show I was in a few years ago.  I joke about it now (to hide the tears lol) but it was one of the worst and most humiliating weeks of my entire life.  At the time, I got even more upset trying to find meaning behind what happened.  The only solace I found was Mark Hardy telling me that "sometimes stuff just sucks." Yep, this life lesson has officially taken 3 years to fully comprehend. 

You guys know this story so I won't spell it out for you.  Let's just say that I put so much pressure on myself to perform this role (Beth March in "Little Women") that everything else became secondary.  Aka - It took over my whole life and I completely stopped taking care of myself. I ate even less.  I spent hours in practice rooms doing more beating myself up than actually singing.  I cried at every vocal lesson.  I was having a lot of trouble with my voice anyway, due to my restriction.  There was a complete chunk of my range that was just gone.  From about a C (above middle C) to F which is like...kind of necessary for musical theatre, especially roles that I am right for.  I would try and only air would squeak out -- Beth March literally sits right in that range.  I was absolutely terrified and panicked and was trying every Jamey Strawn trick in the book.  But nothing was working.  And then, I lost my voice.  All of it.   

I was unable to sing or speak and for the majority of the performances, Harli (who was playing Amy) sang my songs into a microphone off stage.  Talk about embarrassing.  It was the closest I've ever gotten to just throwing in the towel and screaming (figuratively, of course because I couldn't produce any sound) "I QUIT ACTING FOREVERRRRR!!" 

Last night at rehearsal we worked on "I Know Things Now."  Not only is the universe bonking me on the head with that title, but it's giving me nice little reminders that even though I am feeling anxious and worried and nervous about this challenging music, the answer is absolutely not to stop taking care of myself.  That is actually the opposite of what I need to do!  I know it seems like "duh, KT of course" but you would be surprised how right it feels at the time.  We are all guilty of it! But I am here to tell you that taking care of yourself needs to be your NUMBER ONE PRIORITY.  It's a lesson I learned the hard way.  

But you know what? I know things now.  

Eleven.

So, I obviously haven't been blogging much.  I could go through the whole rigmarole of being sorry and making excuses and talking about how I'm SOOOO busy, but here's the thing I've learned over these past 11 months: I can do whatever I want, and no one can stop me.  It's a good feeling.  A few weeks ago social media and blogging got to be a little too much, so I backed away.  It wasn't making me feel good, it was making me feel crazy, so I focused my writing on works of fiction and my time on living my life.  It's been nice.  I still will definitely blog, but I want to change the focus slightly.  I'll still talk about my recovery because it is such an intense part of who I am and an integral part of my story.  But this past month I have made many realizations and one important one was that I am not my disorder.  Near the middle of this month, I just decided to act like I was recovered.  Work from the outside in, instead of the other way around.  Easier said than done, obviously, but it's been extremely liberating. 

I'm not going to pretend like I've been having an easy time these past few days.  I feel like I'm being put through the ringer in terms of my depression, axiety, and insomnia.  And what's even more frustrating is it's all brain chemistry because for all intents and purposes, things are going great!!  I love my city, I love my friends, I love my job, and I'm so excited for so many things coming up!!  Just another reminder that no one chooses mental illness. And just another reminder that I'm a warrior who will get through this.  

Sooooo, it's September 1st!!  MY FAVORITE MONTH...and Happy 11 months to me!  That means a special post.  Here are 11 things I am grateful for, if you care to know:

1. My Mom.  I feel like I've just been a LOT lately.  Just a big ol' bundle of extreme emotions.  My Mom is my best friend and I don't know what I would do without her.  She always picks up the phone and listens to me cry for no reason.  She always lets me complain about things.  She always texts me about books or recipes or kitties.  She cracks me up. She's just...THE BEST.

2. I'm feeling exceptionally grateful for my bestie for the restie, Robyn.  Yesterday, I called her bawling my eyes out and ended up laughing so hard I was crying.  I swear to God, we are the funniest people in the world.  It's hard being away from her, but I love her so much it's absurd. 

3. I can't express enough how happy I am that I chose to move here and like...be a person here in sunny St. Pete.  Every single day I'm reminded that it was the right decision. 

4. My siblings. 

5. My friends who hold me up and keep me going every single day:  I'm looking at you Jessica, Sarah, and Jan!! 

6. My St. Pete Family, my St. Pete bestie, and my Burnt Part Boys. 

7. Angela

8. New and exciting projects coming up.

9. My tiny home!!

10. Being a part of this incredible theatre community, and being able to do what I love. 

11. These past 11 months.  Every single one of them.  They've been hard.  There have been bad days.  But I'm pretty pumped about where I am now, compared to September 1st, 2013. 

<33 

That which does not serve you...

Let go of that which does not serve you. 

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 

Fear

The other day in treatment, my therapist asked me "what are you afraid of?"

It was interesting, because I wasn't prepared for the question or my immediate response.  As soon as she finished speaking, a week of holding in emotions started pouring out of me, in the form of unstoppable tears.  I think crying is really important, and I have never been afraid to cry, but for whatever reason I had been holding it in for the past few days when really I needed to let it out.  Because frankly, I was terrified.  I am terrified.

Recovery is a scary time.  Being in your twenties is a scary time.  Moving to a new city is a scary time.  Being an actor in between shows is a scary time.  And that really is the word I would describe how I'm generally feeling lately.  Scared.

What am I afraid of?
Failing.
Running out of money. 
Making bad choices. 
Being an adult. 
Not finding a job that allows me to live comfortably. 
Having to go back to Lexington for whatever reason.
My body changing.
Not being able to fit into clothes (hey, just being honest here).
Not being able to stop eating on extreme hunger days (loss of control is terrifying).
Being a hypocrite. 
My face filling out. 
Not feeling comfortable in my own skin.
Unhealthy thoughts. 
Losing my friends. 
Losing my family. 
Losing my voice. 

So like any sensible person who is feeling scared and unsure about the future, I signed a lease on an apartment.  I've always been a person that has to force herself out of fear.  No one can do it for me.  Oh, you're scared that you're going to be stuck in Lexington at home forever?  I guess I'll go sublet an apartment in New York for a few months!  Oh, you're terrified of becoming an adult?  I guess I'll move to St. Pete and get an apartment!  I often question my tactics but whatever, I'm just being me.

Looking at the list above is interesting, because I know a year ago how I would deal with every single one of those fears.  I would lose my appetite and restrict.  I would go to the gym to "let off some steam."  I would take 2 hour walks to "clear my head."  I would allow every sense to get wrapped in cotton wool and descend into my beloved brain buzz. Not feeling is sometimes quite nice.  It really is a high, and for a while you feel wonderfully intoxicated. But hiding from the things that scare you only make them scarier later on.  And now, the healthy part of my brain looks at that list and says "Duh, KT.  There's one thing that will make all of those things easier to deal with...not having an eating disorder."

I'm proud of myself for getting an apartment, and you better believe it's going to be the cutest apartment in the beautiful city of San Pedro.  I mean, look at the door!  I decided on this for my inspiration image and color palette:

And here are some more images from my apartment pinterest board (yep, I'm that person).  I seriously live for this kind of stuff.

The future is scary...but it's pretty exciting, if you ask me.

Summertime Sadness

It's definitely summer out there. I have taken to just wearing my bathing suit around the house.  I watched dolphins swimming in the ocean last night for a good hour (as someone who was born land locked, that will NEVER get old.  DOLPHINS. RIGHT THERE). I absolutely have to take a shower every day because well...it's really hot.  

Unfortunately, depression doesn't care if you live in the sunshine state.  Depression doesn't care if you can walk down the street and instantly be on the beach.  Depression doesn't care if you have a loving family and amazing friends.  Sometimes it just finds your insecurities ("the show is over...now what...I need to find an apartment...I ate too much at dinner...I miss my friends...what am I even doing right now...I'm tired but I should be productive....WHY AM I CRYING?!") and attack.  

The important thing to remember in those moments when you feel like you don't "deserve" to be depressed is that there is nothing wrong with being depressed.  It is a real chemical imbalance in your brain and sometimes you just can't help it.  The past few days have been a little rough for me personally, but luckily I have some pretty awesome people and tactics  to get me through the bad days.  Early on in recovery I even made a checklist called "Sadness Burritos --> Happiness Muffins" because sometimes just the act of checking off all of the things on the checklist pulls me out of my funk. 

The two biggest things that help me whenever I feel the depression cloud are MUSIC and PEOPLE. I've talked about it on the blog before, but when I was at my lowest of lows, Angela my ukulele really pulled me up and out of the hole I had dug myself into. She became my "tangible object" and to this day whenever I am having bad thoughts, or want to use bad behaviors, or just generally anxious, I can strum a few chords and the world simply gets better.  She replaced restriction as my number one coping mechanism, so I'm not exaggerating when I say she saved my life. 

The other thing is people.  Friends...new friends, old friends, strangers on the beach, the group of old men at Starbucks who sit at the table next to me every day, a phone call from my best friend, a Facebook chat with my sister...it doesn't matter.  I just can NOT isolate myself.  Depression thrives in isolation, which is annoying because of course when we are sad that is exactly what we want to do...shut ourselves off. After lots of self examination in therapy, I have learned that connections with people are what I truly crave.  I am not the introvert I thought I was for 4 years. 

Even if you don't struggle with depression, I think it is important for everyone to find their one or two things that help whenever they are feeling down.  All feelings are valid and real and should be dealt with.  There is nothing wrong with being sad.  NOTHING.  There is no use covering up bad feelings and pretending to be the happiest person in the world...trust me.  I've been there, I've done that, and it doesn't work. Allow yourself to feel the bad feelings, to go through some summertime sadness, but make sure to have ways to pull yourself out of it so the world can see your smiling face once again.