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 

A Practice in Apathy

Even if you just follow me on social media, you have probably gleaned the fact that I am anything but apathetic.  I’m not a casual friend, or a casual fan, and I think that level of passion for people and things that I love is important and makes me who I am. It’s something I really pride myself in.  So when I was in the throes of recovery and my therapist told me to do a practice in apathy, my entire being bristled.  I’m not apathetic!  Apathy is everything I hate about the world!  I’m in it to win it!!

But, as everything in recovery proved to be, it was not as simple as that.  This was a kind of indifference I would learn to accept, and frankly would change the entire game for me.  It is still something that I practice, because without it, I probably would have just quit.

But...I’m not a quitter.

Everything changed for me when I began being apathetic about the way I looked.  A lot of you reading this have probably known me for a while.  You know that I don’t wear make up and I don’t brush my hair and I still wear clothes from the little boy’s section in Target.  You know that in high school I was never well dressed or put together.  You know that in college I wore dance clothes all day or a hoodie and jeans.  You probably know that I HATE the idea of someone else straightening my hair or doing my make up...the list goes on and on.  So even I sometimes look back at the disorder that held me in it’s clutches, one that is usually associated with looks, and am confused as to how I got to where I was.  But then of course I remember that that is not what anorexia is about in the first place, and even I am falling victim to society’s perception of the thing I know better than most people.  

Because I am the passionate, go-getter individual that I am, when I started recovery I set a very high goal for myself.  I remember saying the words out loud to my therapist.  “I am going to love my whole self, 100% of the time.”  She laughed at me.  She literally laughed, and said, “that’s an impossible goal, Katie.  I’m not letting you set that.”   I was angry at her for doubting me.  Hey, you barely even know me!!  You don’t know what I’m capable of!  But it’s true...I would be disappointed every single day when I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t fall in love with the broken, changing girl in front of me.  She was trying so hard.  

But then, I decided to practice apathy.  What if I didn’t set out everyday to love my entire self?   What if I set out, instead, to just not care?  I wasn’t put on this earth to be skinny.  I wasn’t put on this earth to be beautiful.  So what if...what if I just didn’t care?  And in that moment, something clicked.  It was like I was finally seeing the whole point of recovery, and body positivity, and self love.  It’s not about saying “I’m beautiful the way I am.”   It’s about saying “I exist.  I am here, and that’s an amazing thing.  I’m allowed. No matter what.”  

This practice bled over to other aspects of my life.  I started not caring about people’s perception of me as a whole, not just my looks.  I started not caring about loving things out loud.  I started not caring if people didn’t like the things I liked, or made fun of the music I listen to.  I started not caring that I took up space, that my laugh literally echoes off of buildings because it’s so loud, that my hair is never neat, and that sometimes I take stuff to the extreme.  These may all seem like very elementary lessons, but you’d be surprised how hard they are to fully embrace.  I still have trouble  But there just comes a point where you can’t care anymore.  Life is too short, and way too wonderful. I could very easily get wrapped up in the fact that I am literally twice the size I used to be, or that I don’t get cast anymore, or that I don’t get complimented on my looks very often, because that’s what this weirdo society wants me to focus on.  But instead...I just don’t really care anymore.  I exist.  I’m allowed.  No matter what.

I don’t expect you to wake up one day and be like “wow, KT was right.  I don’t care anymore!  I’m free!!” because that’s not how life works.  I also don't expect this to fix all your problems. It's one very small puzzle piece in the whole picture. It’s a practice, not a performance.  I still have trouble with it, because I’m human, and so are all of you.  It’s not easy.  It’s work!  But, it really does make a difference, little by little.   And if you’re struggling with where to start, message me, or text me, or comment on this post and I will tell you all the things I love about you that have nothing to do with how you look.  I’m sure there are at least a hundred.  

You exist.  You’re allowed. No matter what.

Peace, Love, and Orange Juice,

KT

Why I don't post body transformation pictures.

The other day I was mindlessly scrolling through my "On This Day" feature on Facebook and I came across pictures of me at my very lowest weight.  I actually remember weighing myself that day and I remember the number.  There's a lot during that time of my life that I do not remember, but my weight (and the caloric value of all of my safe foods) is something that is branded into my memory.  Sometimes when I come across these shocking photographs, I make a little transformation picture to keep in my phone just for myself and for people I trust to look at and share the sense of pride I feel when I see the two pictures next to each other.  I never post body transformation pictures because, while I think it's good for me to see the transformation and LOVE the "after" picture way more than the "before", I don't think showing the world the bag of bones I was 4 years ago is productive in any way.

My "after", in the words of Sean Ryan Paris - "Sunshine and Happy and Hanson!" 

I will happily post transformation pictures of my hair, or my hands, or even my face.  But my body is off limits.  One of my worst fears is for someone out there will somehow get a hold of a sick picture and yearn for that body.  That terrifies me.  I would rather someone see the fact that my hair grew back or that my cheeks filled out and I got the life back in my eyes. I would rather someone ask me what the main difference is and see happy tears fill my eyes while I say "well number one I didn't die" (still not really sure how I survived it) "but beyond that I don't have an ever present chill in my bones and I don't have hair growing on my lower back in my body's last ditch effort to stay alive."  I don't need to remind the world how much my body has changed. You learn so much when you recover...definitely more than I ever expected to.  One thing you learn is that beauty has nothing to do with it. Nothing to do with it at all. 

Peace, love, and in an Mmmbop they're gone,

KT <33

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...

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

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 

Roads to Recovery: Anna's Story

Welcome to a new feature on my blog: Roads to Recovery!  Every one to two weeks I am going to feature a story that is NOT my own about different people's personal recovery journeys.  And that is the important part...it is a journey.  I hope to be able to share stories from all different points of recovery, not just the end of the road (is there really an end of the road?  I'll get back to you on that one).  I am SO excited to have the first guest blogger for this new feature be my beautiful friend, Anna.  Anna and I met back in 2002 when my family and I were living in Ireland.  We spent 1st year of secondary school nearly inseparable, and leaving her friendship was incredibly difficult for me.  Luckily, thanks to the handy dandy internet, we have been able to stay in touch!  What's more, she has been such a huge inspiration to me throughout this whole process, and you are about to see why...

First off, thanks so much to Katie for letting me feature in her fantastic blog! My story is a bit rambling, but there is a point to it, so I hope ,you manage to stay awake through it! The seeds of my anorexia were sown over 8 years ago now; at least 7 of the years since have been filled with varying levels of anxiety, guilt and torment. When I think back on that time now, I wonder whether it was my inability to trust that kept me trapped for so long; or simply a lack of information – probably a combination of both.

I should have been one of the lucky ones; I was diagnosed quickly and received inpatient treatment in Dublin, Ireland just over a year after my symptoms began in December 2007. Unfortunately, the treatment I received served only to further entrench my disordered beliefs, so that the following June – less than three months after being discharged – I presented in a significantly worse state (both physically and mentally) than I had on my initial admission. I can’t remember my exact thoughts at this time, but I do recall a determination to make an effort this time; to fight against the anorexia rather than collude with it.

Over the next year, I worked with the clinic staff as an outpatient; I followed my prescribed meal plan and gained enough weight to keep my BMI lay just out of the anorexic range. I certainly looked and felt better than I had a year previously; I went to university, made new friends, had relationships – all the standard stuff. My illness still pervaded my consciousness; body image was a big issue; meals (although nutritionally balanced) were strictly calorie counted and regimented – eating spontaneously at a friend’s house was a no-no; and stressful events were almost bound to lead to a reduction in intake. Yet I carried on eating; kept my weight (mostly) stable; and was able to lead a relatively normal life.

This is a ‘recovery’ story in itself. It’s one that you come across quite regularly in magazine articles about anorexia; and it’s one that I myself recounted to various Irish media outlets in an attempt to spread a message of hope. It’s what I genuinely believed recovery meant; no one had told me any different. So I stumbled along blindly, unconsciously waiting for something to trip me up. This didn’t outwardly manifest until my final year of university in 2011/12, but things had been bubbling under the surface for quite a while beforehand.

Gradually the rituals began to take told, even more strong than before; my thoughts turned to food 24/7 and my relationship with my loved ones eroded. I was in total denial about what was happening to me. I think I was terrified of admitting the truth. I successfully wangled my way out of a myriad of medical appointments by packing my bags and moving to London the moment university was over. The anorexia took on a life of its own, so that by the time a family member managed to convince me to visit my GP, I was unable to walk for five minutes without toppling over. It wasn’t until I was threatened with sectioning under the Mental Health Act that I was ready to admit that yes, anorexia was still very much a problem.

Thankfully, the section wasn’t necessary, and I agreed to a voluntary admission at an NHS facility in London. I was all set to make this admission something similar to my last – A.K.A get discharged at a low BMI and carry on living a pseudo-anorexic life. Thankfully, the incredible clinic staff persuaded me to change my mind. Over the year that followed, they provided me with information which I had been sorely lacking; that it is possible to make a FULL recovery from anorexia (no counting, no checking, no disordered behaviour whatsoever); that this can only happen when you reach a healthy weight (a weight that is healthy for YOU, rather than the lowest acceptable point on the BMI scale); that your brain chemistry will adjust and this won’t actually seem like the worst thing imaginable.

Of course, the information wasn’t enough to thwart the anorexia alone; I had to learn to trust. Probably one of my most frequently uttered phrases when in treatment was ‘but I haven’t trusted ANYONE before; how am I supposed to trust you?’ In retrospect, they made it easy for me. I remember in one of my earlier family therapy sessions, the therapist said ‘I believe I can get you to think about things other than food and weight’. Both my parents and I were sceptical – I had thought of little else for the past 6 years. But he was so confident. Looking back, he had every right to be – it didn’t happen overnight, but gradually other things began to take precedence.

Now, almost a year from discharge, I hardly recognise the person I became throughout my illness. I still don’t class myself as fully recovered, but I’m heading in the right direction. My weight is within a healthy range, I eat normally (as in properly normally, impromptu cupcakes on the way home from work included!) and I don’t take my emotions out on food – instead, I actually express them.

I don’t expect you to trust me implicitly by simply reading this blog post, but I hope I’ve demonstrated that there is something more than the ‘recovery’ we so often see portrayed. sometimes (with me anyway) there is a fear that looking ‘normal’ and letting go of those awful, yet strangely comforting rituals will fail to mark you out as special. Let me just say, having tried both, that ‘normal’ (despite the bad moments) beats anorexia’s ‘special’ hands down.

Thank you, Anna!! Your story has and will continue to inspire me and countless others. I am so happy that we have remained friends through the years, and I hope to visit you soon (or vice versa)!!

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.

So, You Wanna Restrict...

After deciding to really and truly fight my disorder on October 1st, 2013, I have had my fair share of relapse moments.  I've had countless days lost to doubt, numerous times where I've thought "just this once...", and a myriad of bad or unhealthy thoughts traipse through my head.  I would say I have had two MAJOR, full fledged relapses: one right around new years day and another in early April after I was wrongfully fired from my dinky little Lexington job. Both of those times were definitely just...THE WORST, so you would THINK I would learn my lesson.  Unfortunately, mental health doesn't really work like that.  So after my April relapse, with the help of my therapist, I composed a letter to myself that I can read whenever I feel the pull of my disorder.  I still look at it, and it really helps me to ground myself in reality and realize my thoughts are irrational and unhealthy.  While it still is a tool I use, it is quite astounding to read it now and realize how far I have come.  It's full of tough love and real talk because sometimes, that's what you need. I hope that it can help you, too. 

Dear KT,

So...you want to restrict.  That's cute.  Here is what I have learned during my periods of relapse when I have strayed a bit too close to the edge...or just fallen off the cliff completely.

You just love flirting with danger.  There's something so tantalizing about using bad or destructive behaviors. Telling yourself just this once.  It's never just once.  EVER. When you don't eat your minimums, you usually sleep pretty badly.  Use your brain, girl.  You're hungry.  You're not sleeping as well as you used to because your body is healing itself and wants you to fuel it properly.  Just...go get dessert, weirdo.

The less you fuel yourself, the more obsessive thoughts you will have.  Haven't you noticed that on days you've had a little less or done a little more you find yourself wanting to look at food blogs?  That you find yourself planning meals and times and portions for the coming days, and you start getting anxious if someone suggests a deviation from the plan?  Again...use your brain.  When you are hungry/restricting you are a PAIN to be around.  You are so impatient and so sassy.  I honestly have no time for that. And neither does anyone else.

The anxious thoughts send you into a manic mindset, which inevitably leads to a depressive state. I don't know which version of you is more obnoxious.  Just...don't. Because bad behaviors are bad behaviors.  While I thought weighing myself at home (as opposed to the doctor or nutritionist for a weekly weigh in) just to help me "get over it" was a great idea...SHOCKER, it was not.  You realize your capacity for obsessive behaviors right?  You have OCD.  You let it spiral out of control until you were weighing yourself numerous times throughout the day, something you had never done before.  Don't let that happen again.  It was excessive and ridiculous.

I repeat bad behaviors are bad behaviors.  So you don't poop for a day...don't you DARE freak out on me because I can't have you fucking up my system more than you already have.  Don't do anything stupid. If your stomach hurts in that specific way (you know what I'm talking about) you're fucking hungry so go get a snack and gulp down some water please for the love of GOD. And another thing: restricting makes you incredibly indecisive and whiny.  If you can't choose whether you "should" eat or not and you're getting emotional about it...you need to eat.  That's just a hunger cue manifesting itself in a weird, annoying way.  Restricting will also inevitably make you feel like everyone who even mentions food is trying to attack you which actually...makes no fucking sense.

I know it feels counterproductive because somewhere along the line in your 23 years of existence you became obsessed with needing/having/wanting less, but punching Emily in the throat really does feel good and makes you feel like a recovery warrior.  Restricting just makes you tired. The more you give into bad behaviors, the worse Emily makes you feel about every aspect of yourself.  That's STUPID.  The more you love and care for yourself the better you feel.  That's SMART.

So, future me.  I hope this letter from KT who just got done relapsing and never wants to deal with it ever again has smacked some sense into your brain.  You're really smart, you Summa Cum Laude graduate, you.  Let's use that beautiful brain!  You can do this.  You are addicted to control, but you know what?  Taking control of this healing process is a high unlike any brain buzz Emily ever allowed me.  I just want you to remember that because if you're referencing this, I'm guessing you're feeling pretty low and vulnerable.  Take a moment to breathe deeply, cry if you need to, and remember...RELAPSES END BADLY 100% OF THE TIME. 

It is not worth it. Ever. 

I am so proud of you....now go eat a brownie. 
Love, KT.

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.  

We get by with a little help...

I've gotten many requests over the past few weeks to do a post about being a supportive friend/family member/loved one to an individual struggling with or recovering from an eating disorder.  I'm not going to lie, I've been putting it off because I want it to be perfect...it is so important!! Before we go any further though, I need to emphasize that first and foremost, those suffering from ED's need professional treatment.  This is advice for those of you who are around these individuals on a day to day basis.  While it is incredibly important for you to be supportive, it is even more important that your friend or family member is on a guided road to recovery with professionals holding them accountable.  It is not your job to be their therapist, but you can still have an extremely positive effect.  So let's begin, shall we?

Friends. They're doing it right. 

Don't make comments about their body - even if you think it's a compliment. 
No matter what you say, it will be the wrong thing.  "You've gained weight!" is the wrong thing.  "Don't worry, you're still skinny!" is the wrong thing. "You're looking healthier!" is the wrong. thing. I know what you're thinking...these are all compliments and you mean them as a good thing or a sign of progress.  But it doesn't matter.  ED's can't help taking whatever you say about our changing bodies and twisting it into something horrible.  Just don't talk about the physical...AT ALL!! That's the whole point!  Try something like "You have so much more energy these days!  You're bright, bubbly personality is so great!"  or "You seem so much happier!" These are things I will never get sick of hearing.  (I will however, never turn down a compliment on my hair)

Don't bring up your own diet or exercise plans, struggles, or advice. 
Recovery is a bitch, I'm just going to say that right now.  You want to know the main reason it's a bitch?  because the entire UNIVERSE is fixated on diet and exercise.  You can't escape it.  I found this post on tumblr that really says it best: "If I had to describe an eating disorder, I would resemble it to a drug addiction. Now, imagine a drug addict trying to quit in a society that’s advertising new drugs while promising amazing highs all over the internet, on YouTube, Facebook, in TV, on the bus passing you right as you’re battling yourself whether to get your fix or go straight home. A society in which you can barely have a conversation without drugs being mentioned; how many you did yesterday, how amazing it felt, which drugs you want to try next. Surrounded by the mentality that it’s embarrassing, weird, lazy, even a sin not to do drugs." So please for the love of GOD...don't tell me about the cleanse you want to do.  Don't tell me about what you did at the gym yesterday.  Don't ask me what I do to stay skinny.  And don't you DARE come to me when you feel "bad" about eating that slice of cake.  I will punch you in the face. Just eat. the. damn. cake. 

Extreme Hunger is fun!  8 servings, my ass.  One and DONE.

Administer compliments and encouragement about their actions. 
This is important.  Throughout recovery, being told I "look better" has unfortunately been triggering.  I can't explain it...I really wish I could, but I can't.  "Healthy" is annoyingly a very triggering word. I know I'm not the only one who deals with this, though!  I do respond incredibly well, however, to people telling me "good job" when I have done something.  Let's face it, we all love to be praised -  You did a great job on a painting YAY!  You won a board game YAY! You took a nap YAY!  You went out with friends DOUBLE YAY!

Don't focus on what/how much they are eating. 
This is a major one I personally struggle with.  I hate people watching me eat and asking me what I'm eating.   Just ask Robyn (I have complained to her so much for people asking me "Is that...A SANDWICH?!"). My sass comes out in full force when people ask me if I'm eating an apple when it is CLEARLY AN APPLE I'M HOLDING IN MY HAND.  JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!! *deep breath* Because of this, people struggling with ED's tend to isolate themselves at meal times.  I have made major strides with this, but it still causes me intense anxiety when people comment.  Just the other day at a cookout attention was drawn to me and my plate, and although I'm sure no one else there even remembers the incident, I have gone over it about a million times in my head, and probably could have started crying on the spot.  So just like...find other topics of conversation.  There are so many! Music, movies, nature, the German Football team, corgis, and astrology - just to name a few. 

Don't assume it's just a phase, just about "being thin", or just an intense diet. Don't downplay the severity of this disorder.  DON'T insinuate that they are "lucky" for getting to eat more now that they're recovering. 
Eating Disorders are severe mental disorders that can have fatal affects.  Anorexia didn't come into my life because I wanted to be skinnier or because I wanted to lose a few pesky pounds. I have always been a lil nug.   I struggle with depression, anxiety, and OCD, as do the majority of people suffering from ED's. It is an irrational disorder and can make us do weird things. Don't tell us to "snap out of it" or to "just eat a cheeseburger".  I would have given anything to just "snap out of it" a year ago when I was in my room pacing back and forth because my ED wouldn't leave me alone.  I would love nothing more than to just chow down on a cheeseburger in the middle of the day with no guilt. It's not that easy.  Just let them know that you are here if they need you.  If they don't reach out to you specifically, don't push the subject.  That might not be how they cope, they might want to not talk about it, or you might be a triggering presence.  If you are, please don't take offense...just let it be.  They will come to you when they're ready.   

The most important thing about being a good friend to a person struggling with ED is to be there for them in whatever capacity they need. If they talk about it, great.  If they very clearly don't want to talk about it, also great. Don't overstep your boundaries, they will let you know what they need at that moment.  Remember what I said at the beginning - you are not their therapist. I'm really sorry that it's not "fair" that your compliment is triggering or it causes them to feel bad even though it had good intentions.  You know what else isn't "fair"?  Having an eating disorder.  Just make sure to keep the positive vibe flowing.  Love them, so that they can learn to love themselves.  

Permission

I'm really good at justifying other people's decisions.  I learned this skill after spending countless hours in high school, college, and theatres listening to people trying to justify what they were doing and then feeling guilty about it.  "It's tech week so I can have candy for breakfast, right?  RIGHT?  UGH I'M THE WORST. IT'S NOT EVEN CHEAT DAY!" First of all...don't even get me started on the phrase "cheat day". I find it insufferable and so disordered. But anyway, that would always be my cue to say something like "No, that's totally fine.  It's tech week you're allowed to do whatever you want."

But here's the secret.  Even if it's not tech week, even if you aren't having a bad day, even if you weren't "good" yesterday, even if you didn't go to the gym, even if you slept for 15 hours straight and then laid in bed until your cat peed on your face - you really can do whatever you want.  Whenever you want.  

I give you permission.

I give you permission to abandon food rules and go out with friends to a new restaurant, even if you were planning on making your own dinner.  I give you permission to not know what is on the menu before you go.  I give you permission to live in the moment. 

I give you permission to unabashedly cheer for your favorite sports team.  Even if it goes against your country of origin.  I give you permission to school guys about stoppage time and to decorate your bracket with pretty colors and stickers. I give you permission to live passionately. 

I give you permission to go out to a bar in the middle of the day and order a screwdriver and delicious fried food to soak up the alcohol. I give you permission to enjoy your Vitamin C with a little vodka thrown in.  I give you permission to put your feet up at a beach bar and relax the evening away. 

I give you permission to take selfies because you are having a good body image day. 

I give you permission to take a 2 hour nap in the middle of the day.  Rest is one of the most important things we can give our bodies.  I give you permission to TAKE A ENTIRE DAY OFF.  I give you permission to watch a whole season on Netflix and tear through a novel and spend a few hours on Tumblr. 

I give you permission to feel great about yourself.  Even if you aren't feeling it 100%.  I give you permission to walk around this earth like the human embodiment of perfection. 

I give you permission to be proud of yourself. 

I give you permission to start falling in love with yourself.