When to Use a Meal Plan

Happy Wednesday, everyone!  I'm certainly excited that it's already hump day.  It's been a while since I've done a #Recovery post but I've been meaning to write this blog post for about a week now. So I guess I'll just dive right in!

My name is KT and I don't have a completely healthy relationship with food.  I think we all know this, at this point.  I'm very open about my disorder and my recovery, and I love talking about it.  Talking about it and opening up is ultimately what healed me.  A common misconception is that recovery is a thing that happens and then you're done with it.  I've learned the hard way that that is absolutely not the case.  ED is like any addiction.  You have to deal with it for the rest of your life.  It gets easier.  You get better at it.  But some days  are harder than others.

Recently, I had a huge schedule shift.  For those of you who don't know, my disorder was centered largely around meal times.  I had a very intense schedule.  Breakfast couldn't be before 10am.  Lunch couldn't be before or after 2pm.  Dinner couldn't be before 8pm, and the later the better (the best was not eating at all).  If I had to eat any of these meals before the set times, I would either have a panic attack or not be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the day (and often beyond).  I have so many memories of not eating with friends or family because our "schedules" didn't line up.  I wanted to eat with them. I just...couldn't. 

This isn't something I struggle with anymore, but when there is big change in my life (whether it's good or bad) I can feel the tug of my disorder.  It's small, but it's there, and I know that if left to my own devices, I will not make smart food choices.  I just won't.  I will use the schedule change as an excuse to skip meals, or not fuel myself properly.  And so, enter THE MEAL PLAN.

I don't think meal plans are always helpful.  Let me make this VERY clear...NEVER USE A MEAL PLAN AS A WAY TO RESTRICT.  RESTRICTION IS BAD IN ALL ITS FORMS.  But, there are those of us who, without a meal plan, will restrict.  So, when I know a big change is coming, I try to set one up.  I usually only need a week or so in order to get into a rhythm.  I've already dropped the one I was using at the beginning of the summer because I got used to the meal times and sizes and feel like I can do it without a written guide anymore.  But if I feel myself slipping, I'll definitely be using it again!

IMPORTANT -- I don't believe in counting calories, so none of my meal plans ever have ANY numbers.  Numbers are a trigger for me!!  I don't count, measure, or weigh myself or my food.  Meal plans are NOT DIET PLANS.  Meal plans are for those of us who don't necessarily have a good relationship with food and might need some guidance in order to be properly fueled so that we can continue to LIVE!!

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 

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.  

 

Breaking Rules and Taking Names.

2 weeks of rehearsals for "The Burnt Part Boys", done and DONE.  This process has been amazing so far.

The other day we had our sitzprobe - for those of you who don't know, that is the first rehearsal with the band.  It was 5 hours of going over music, making sure every sound level was perfect, and that the cues all lined up.  It sounds tedious, but it was during that rehearsal that I realized this is the most fun I've had doing a show since RENT (the last golden summer before Emily took up permanent residence in my brain.  And to be honest, it was already happening that summer, it just hadn't completely taken over my life).  This realization was a big one for me.  Sure, since RENT I've been in incredible productions with amazing people.  I've had experiences I wouldn't trade for the world, but there was always something there.  Now I know that veil that was clouding every aspect of my life was Emily's voice playing on a constant loop of negative self talk.  Because of this unrelenting stream of hatred, she and I created (ultimately pointless) tactics to keep the self loathing at bay...

Food Rules. 

The rules didn't start out very strict.  In fact, if you asked me how I ate before my ED, I probably wouldn't be able to tell you.

So she and I crafted these rules that became stricter and less forgiving as time went on, but the number one rule was always "don't let anyone know you have rules."  That's why I was plagued with crippling embarrassment when someone accidentally used my Madeline plate and I had to confront them about it.  Or if I had to eat lunch earlier than 2 pm to accommodate someone else, causing me to snap and make a vicious comment. I didn't want anyone to know how deeply I cared.  How intensely important these rules had become for me.

When I first started defying food rules, it was terrifying.  I felt like the floor had been ripped away from me and I was falling into nothingness.  The lack of control was agonizing.  There were a few that forced me to go into the bathroom prior and following just to talk myself into doing it, then to calm myself down afterwards.  But there was always one constant...the world didn't end.  I was fine.

Now, I love it.  It creates a high in me unlike anything I've ever experienced.  I used to have feelings of guilt about every single thing that passed through my mouth, and that doesn't happen anymore.  It is an act of defiance against Emily, and when I am able to define it as a victory, it feels glorious.  

Some things are way harder than others, and I am not breaking food rules left and right at every meal every day of the week.  Somewhere along the way these compulsions became ingrained into my psyche, and that is hard to break!  It is still extremely difficult for me to eat dessert with other people, especially early in the day.  I have yet to sit down with a bag of chips and not portion myself out an allotment on a plate.  But I have broken quite a few of the rules, and it never gets old.  Just yesterday I went with my friend Miriam to Dough in Tampa, to celebrate National Doughnut Day (a very important holiday).  It may seem silly that going to place for a random treat at a random time of day with a friend is a huge deal but, in my book, it's a victory.  I believe that food rules are a bad thing...something that is put in place by disordered thinking and can spiral out of control.  In my perfect world, there would be no food rules.  Because with no food rules, there is no guilt, and with no guilt there is no self loathing.  Only self love and acceptance. 

  

Peace, love, and doughnuts fah dayz.
<33

Tummy Troubles.

Happy June!  I, for one, cannot believe it is already June 1st...I also can't believe that we open in less than 2 weeks (cast members, let's all just take a deep breath together).  I am having a blast here in Florida rehearsing for The Burnt Part Boys, and Frances is quickly becoming my favorite role I've ever played.

Pretty much everything about my first full week in rehearsal has been perfect except for one tiny thing...tummy troubles.  I'm gonna give you the option to STOP READING this post NOW if talk of gastrointestinal distress, bloating, and bowel movements freaks you out in anyway.  Just...click that handy little X.  BUT, I for one would be in much worse state of mind if there weren't people in the online recovery community who were annoyingly open and honest in sharing their experiences with recovery bloat and compromised digestive systems.  I would probably think I was dying...hell, I DID think I was dying last September when I was going through a particularly bad period of stomach stress.

SO - here it is.  While recovering from an ED, you're digestive system is absolutely going to freak out. You have been treating it very badly with whatever behaviors you used (restriction, bingeing, purging, etc.) and therefore, it is extremely compromised.  With anorexia, you have to be very careful in the refeeding process, or else you can experience what is known as "refeeding syndrome" which can have fatal effects.  No matter what though, you are going to experience recovery bloat. You are going to experience bouts of constipation (sometimes lasting for longer than a week...it's disgusting and uncomfortable) followed by bouts of diarrhea.  You just are.  It's going to suck. It's going to make you cry.  You're going to feel like you are a giant balloon animal.  You are going to hate it...but you have to go through it in order for your system to normalize.  You're entire digestive tract is trying desperately to relearn everything.

As someone who had a delicate system before she made it even more delicate (I'M AWESOME!), I have come up with lots of ways to make myself feel better when I feel like a blimp and what to cut a hole in my stomach for easier drainage purposes:
1. Drink, drink, DRINK.  The more water the better. Your stomach will feel like it's swimming, but it helps move things along.  Drink at least 3 times the amount you normally do.
2. KEEP EATING EVERY MEAL.  DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT restrict. It seems counter intuitive and it will be the last thing you want to do, but trust me. If you restrict, your body will think it's preparing for famine and therefore will hold on to any food you put in for dear life. Make sure to get plenty of healthy fats and oils, as this will make things easier to pass.  I find that it's better to eat dense food with less volume...that way you get the calories but not as much bloat (think nut butters, avocados, etc).
3. Take short, light walks.  Nothing too strenuous, just to keep things moving.
4. Wear baggy, comfortable clothes that feel good on the belly.  No tights or close fitting shirts...not trying to be a hero here, folks.
5. Try to stay away from pictures or body checking.  Do NOT weigh yourself.
6. Deep, juicy, yoga stretches.  This can help movement and just make you feel good!
7. Try to focus on other things.  This will be hard, but I believe in you.
8. If the issue persists, PLEASE go see a doctor.

You are going to be fine.  And just think, if you keep on truckin' with recovery, soon your system will work itself out and find a healthy balance.  This too shall pass....literally.

<33

Progress.

8 months ago I would have never taken an entire day to just let my body rest for the sake of resting.

8 months ago I would have never committed a whole day to finishing books and perfecting an accent by reading to myself out loud for an hour straight.

8 months ago I would have never taken a 2 hour nap in the middle of the day and woken up smiling.

8 months ago I would have never ordered a margarita with dinner.

8 months ago I would have never ordered a second margarita.

8 months ago I would have never laughed so loud or so long because the chatter in my brain was making everything incredibly unfunny.

8 months ago I hated myself.

I like myself a whole lot more now.
And that, my friends, is progress.

<33

It's These Oblivious Blues...

Hey pretty people.  Sometimes I feel silly writing things like my "100 reasons to recover" or my ~inspirational poetry~ because I am in the throes of recovery just like the people I am trying to help with these posts.  I am going through it.  I have not overcome it.  Every single day is a battle. Before I really get started discussing things I want to say that I am NOT in ANY WAY fishing for compliments with this post.  These are just my thoughts and feelings and I want to put them out there to let people know that they are not alone if they are having bad days.

The other day was particularly bad.  If you've never dealt with depression, it's very hard to comprehend.  I highly recommend reading "Hyperbole and a Half" (not only the blog, but the book) to get a better grasp on going through depression in this day and age.  It explains it incredibly well and with plenty of humor.  I read the book in one sitting (on the floor of the 82nd St. Barnes and Noble in Manhattan after a particularly harrowing therapy session on a cold winter's night.  Nothing like it getting dark at 5pm in NYC to bring out all the sadness burritos).  It strangely made me feel a lot better, just because I knew that I wasn't alone.  There was at least one person out there who was feeling things similar to how I was feeling, and since she was able to get a book published about it, odds were that there were a slew of other people having those feelings too!

Due to recovery, my brain chemistry is all whack-a-doodle right now.  If anyone out there in the universe really believes that eating disorders are NOT mental disorders, they can just come play with me for a week and then reevaluate their life decisions.  It's so frustrating and so hard to constantly be trying to rise above the feelings of self-loathing and hatred that cloud my vision day in and day out.  You're probably thinking "But KT, you never seemed like that to me!!" Awesome!  That is because the self-loathing manifested itself in a different way (I...starved myself. So. There's that). Self-love is a thing I am working on with every ounce of strength I can muster, and the other day I just couldn't do it.  Feelings of worthlessness were keeping me glued to my bed, and I was pretty positive that everything would just be better if I disappeared completely. I didn't have motivation to do anything. I know now that that was Emily talking (Emily is the name I gave my disorder, for those of you who don't know), but boy was she loud.  It was like there was a running track of her just repeating the word "worthless, worthless, worthless" in my ear.  That, my friends, is exhausting.

As I was spiraling into oblivion, I heard the "doo-doo" of a facebook notification.  It was my friend Matt commenting on the private group I created in 2011 for my beautiful, amazing cast of "Spring Awakening" that I directed my senior year of college.  Of course we are all still in the group (as Andy put it "WHY ARE WE ALL STILL IN THIS GROUP? *stays in group*") , and of course I scrolled through all the past posts, and then the pictures, and I realized that if I hadn't been around, this amazing experience would never have happened for those 13 other people who are still in that group.  I did it. It was my baby, and it is still the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me.

So of course, the moral of the story is that none of us are worthless.  It may seem like I have learned my lesson.  That I'm going to go outside and do some paddle turns in the streets because life is looking up!!  That's not really how it works, though.  Just know that sometimes getting out of bed is a huge triumph.  That looking out the window is enough to justify a nap. That you deserve to cry, you deserve to rest, and you definitely deserve to eat.  No matter what, you are worthy.  There's a lot that has happened in this world because you exist.

<33

I used to know...

Some poetry for your Monday...enjoy!

***

I used to know a girl who would shudder and yelp at an unexpected touch.

Who would walk up the stairs to her room

carefully placing what little heft she retained

on each step

to make the smallest

amount

of noise

possible.

She would attempt to leave unnoticed

disappearing into her daily adventures alone and unaccounted for

hoping no one would come looking.

I used to know a girl who would snap at a look or a question.

Who would retreat into herself and pray to any higher power who would listen

that her lunch break not coincide with anyone else's

so that she could eat free of judgement

(this excludes the voice screaming at her inside her own head

tearing her down

making her question everything she put into her mouth, of course). 

I used to know a girl who would stop whatever she was doing at midnight

and go be by herself. 

What was she afraid of?

That the clock would strike and it would all be a dream?

That her overactive imagination had finally gotten the better of her?

Or maybe, that any minute she would achieve the unattainable goal that had bested her for so long.

To disappear. 

I used to know a girl who moved through space as if cameras were following her.

Who would flood her mind with music

because every good story has a soundtrack, after all.

I used to know a girl who craved touch so intensely

that she never thought twice about casually holding her sister's hand 

while walking down Limestone. 

She never flinched when her best friend laid his tired head on her shoulder

on hot, end of the semester choir rehearsals. 

She didn't flush with embarrassment when castmates spooned her

on a stage floor after a particularly tiring matinee.

I used to know a girl who sang so loud that heads would turn

in disbelief.

Who laughed so loud no one could deny which lunch period she was in.

I used to know a girl who made her presence known.

Who wanted to change the world.

Who wanted to be seen.

She is still there inside of me, clamoring to fully inhabit the woman I am struggling to become.

I love her so fiercely. 

Her passion for life floors me.

Her dreams humble me.

She believes with all her soul that she can do anything.

And I will.

100 Reasons to Recover...

Often during recovery, bad thoughts and temptations get in the way and cloud your judgement.  When that happens, I look at this list...my 100 reasons to recover.  There are countless more that I discover every day, but this list always grounds me and makes me so happy to be alive. 

1. So I can be onstage and tell my story.

2. So that I can be there for my friends when they are struggling just like they have been there for me.
3. So I can be a positive role model.
4. So that I can help people.
5. So that next time I see my brother, I won't be relapsing like the last 2 times he came to visit. So he can see that I've actually made progress. That I am getting better. That I am taking charge of my life.  He can be proud of me and worry just a little less.

6. Because I deserve to love myself.

7.  So that my mom can stop worrying about her 23 year old, adult daughter. 

8.  So that I can stop having panic attacks about the panic attacks that I keep having in front of my sister.

9. So I can go long distance hiking, hopefully on the AT!! I want to conquer the trail, summit mountains, be a part of the wonder of nature, and NOT fall over backwards because my pack weighs more than I do.

10. So that I can travel the world.

11. Because I'M HILARIOUS.

12. Because I always...ALWAYS finish what I've started.

13. Because I always...ALWAYS stick to the plan. My plan is to recover. 

14. Because life is too short.

15. Brownies.

16. So I can go back to NYC, be an actress, party like a rockstar, and not want to just sleep constantly.
17. SINGING!!!
18. Angela.
19. So that I can play some more dream roles.
20. So that people look at me because I'm radiating with joy, not because they're worried about me.
21. So that I can make people smile.
22. So that I can learn new and exciting things with a fully functioning brain.
23. Because my smile is a beacon that needs to shine all the way to heaven to light the Mark World of Delight.
24. So that I can be on Broadway.
25. So that I can carry heavy things without falling down and having people laugh at me.
26. Pizza.
27. So that I can bake delicious treats and actually eat them with everyone at the same time.
28. So that I can finish my musical and share it with the world.
29. So that I'm not cold all the time.
30. MY HAIR!!
31. So that I can go out dancing.

32. So that I can go out drinking.

33. So that I can experience new and exciting foods from around the world.

34. So that I can be spontaneous!

35. So that I can order bar food and not feel guilty.

36. So I can write a book.

37. So I can meet my soulmate and fall in love. 

38. So I can be a mom and raise my children to love and accept themselves and others.

39. High notes.

40. Flexibility - both mentally and physically.

41. Recovery tattoo.

42. No more starvation brain fog.

43. No more lanugo.

44. No more awkward bruising.

45. Food anytime, anywhere, with anyone.

46. So I can go to Australia.

47. No more food lies.

48. No more fear of intimacy.

49. To enjoy holidays.

50. To not plan ahead.

51. To not live by rules, rules, rules.

52. So that I can create something amazing!

53. So that I can ride a bike for miles and miles and feel like I'm flying. 

54. To explore!

55. To make new friends. 

56. Orange Juice.

57. My voice in my brain and no one else's. 

58. Awkward ED humor.

59. So that I can be a motivational speaker and eventually speak on NKU's campus...preferably the theatre department...

60. So I can be a casting director.

61. So I never feel like I'm about to pass out while I"m driving. 

62. So my children can be disgustingly close with their cousins.

63. So my children can marry Robyn's children.

64. So I can be more and more like Shirley Temple (my queen) every day. 

65. There are a lot of books to read.

66. There are a lot of movies to see.

67. There are a lot of shows to watch.

68. So that I can eventually play Emily on stage and not be terrified.

69. Tap dancing.

70. Disney World.

71. Because I'm strong and people assume I'm weak...I love proving people wrong.
72. Because there are so many people in this world who deserve more but can't see it.  I want to show them that it's possible.
73. So that my story can have a happy ending.
74. Yoga.
75. Smoothies.
76. So I can make my Dad proud.

77. So that I can hike the Alps as an adult.

78. So that my siblings and I can grow old together and keep having fun.

79. So I can be in Beth's wedding.

80. So I can be in Robyn's wedding. 

81. So I can be in Sarah R's wedding.

82. So I can be in Jessica's wedding.

83. Because my Mom is the best ever and doesn't deserve this.

84. Because I have come so far already.

85. There are so many delicious treats to be nommed.

86. So I can have my own cat.

87. Because I want to make my children surprise lunches.

88. Because I want my musical to change someone's life for the better.

89. So I can speak/sing at NCYC. 

90. Panini Church

91. So I can go back and have a D-town day with Sarah and Carla.

92. Because everybody loves pie.

93. Because my family has been so supportive and wonderful.

94. Daffodils.

95. So I can go to the world cup and cheer on my boys.

96. So that I can free up all that brain space.

97. So that I never feel silent again.

98. Because I have so much to give to the world.

99. Because I've only just begun.

100.  BECAUSE THIS IS NOT THE END OF MY STORY.

Cracks

Happy Monday, world!!  I would like to share with you a piece I wrote a few days ago. Let's not even pretend like this isn't a recovery blog...I started it very vaguely hoping that when I was ready I could morph it into a safe place where I could put my feelings about recovery, share my journey, and hopefully inspire and help people who are struggling with similar demons.  Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for allowing me to do that. Taking control of my recovery process has given me a high unlike any brain buzz my disorder ever allowed me. 

A picture of me. 100% Katie Berger. 2008.


 

Cracks.

You attempt to draw road maps back to the inciting action of your self-destruction, your therapist handing you the necessary sketching tools.  Surely there must be one great moment of trauma.  One villain forcing your hand and starving your mind.

You meticulously unpack suitcase after suitcase of emotional baggage.  Sorting through memories instead of sleeping.  Searching desperately for a cause.  Because if there’s a cause, there’s an enemy to fight against.  If there’s a cause, this will make sense.  If there’s a cause, you are once again in control…the very addiction you are trying to break.

After months of trading one obsession for the other, you start to realize the ugly, horrifying, truth.  There is no one moment.  There is no one plot twist, one gaping hole in the wall.  There are millions…millions of miniscule moments, looks, words, questions, feelings…each one contributing to tiny, microscopic cracks in your confident finish.  They span years.  The sight of the foreign language scrawled across your father’s neck from his radiation treatment, which you are unable to decipher but constantly reminds you that there are things unknown. The buzz in your brain the first time you throw away your uneaten home-made sandwich after working through your lunch period, opting instead to perfect your music theory assignments.  The look of shame and panic on your friend’s face as she shoves spoonful after spoonful of peanut butter into her mouth, the words “gym tomorrow, gym tomorrow, gym tomorrow” practically vibrating off of her skin.  The feeling of directors undressing you with their eyes, anxiously wondering how old you really look, even though you can’t order a glass of Merlot without being questioned (not that you would anyway).  The dozens of times you walked down the halls, hearing “frail” as the highest of compliments and “sickly” as the ultimate goal.  You steel yourself against it, having been raised to love yourself, exuding with worth, never falling prey to peer pressure.  But like any successful brainwashing, repetition is key, and before you know it you are the unspoken example of emaciation.  A demi-god of deprivation.  You hear whispers and shoot back dirty looks, high on the strange power you’ve cultivated, forming an addiction to the fact that you are the only one capable of the self-control they all so desperately yearn for.  Forming an addiction to loneliness.

These cracks are countless and overwhelming.  The task of piecing the broken shards back together seems absolutely impossible.  There’s no way you can find them all, let alone glue them into some semblance of normality.  You obsess (because that’s the only thing you know how to do anymore) over how to perfectly plaster over all of these pesky cracks, and just like when you discovered the seemingly neverending moments of destruction, you begin to uncover moments of creation as well.  Shockingly, the process is similar because they are so infinitesimal.  The feeling of your voice soaring above the same notes you were once too weak to sing.  The look a stranger gives you when you smile while passing, their focus on the hope in your eyes, their gaze never wandering down to your collarbone.  The sound of your coworker casually telling you how pretty you look, after spending and hour agonizing over the fact that surely your face has swollen to three times its normal size.  The mornings you wake up free of guilt, your brain buzzing – not from hunger fog, but with ideas.  These moments are the dabs of glue making the process of putting this puzzle back together possible.  Piece by piece the shell that was weak enough to break in the first place is cobbled together to form something that is so magnificent, so imperfect, so strong.  The bits of broken glass are slowly soldered back together, and when you step back, you don’t see a wall, a shell, a battlement.  You see a glorious stained glass window, and the light is unabashedly streaming through.

 

Getting there. Piece by piece.

"Through the cracks our voices rise..."







Little Joys, Little Victories

HELLOOOOO!! Wow I have not blogged in a while.  This is because my laptop died (RIP) and when it comes to spending money I love to put things off until I can't live without whatever it is I need to spend money on.  It's one of my special skills (which also include devil sticks, whistle tones, and reading all of the books). Anyway, even though I haven't been updating my blog, I have had a fantastic couple of weeks!  And really, nothing that exciting has happened - but my life has been so full of little moments of happiness and tiny recovery triumphs that when I look at them all together, it's pretty overwhelming.

If you had told me earlier in my life that I would suffer from depression, I probably would have replied "Excuse me don't you know WHO I AM?!" I made it a point to have positivity streaming out of every orifice, and when it didn't feel natural, I did it anyway!! The sun will come out tomorrow so help me God, and if it doesn't, I will build a sun lamp. Little did I know that a short way down the road I would be the girl laying on her floor, looking up at the ceiling, and crying because she can't stop crying.  Or having an anxiety attack because she's pretty sure her face has swollen 3 times it's natural size over night. But, that's where we find ourselves sometimes.  Desperately hoping for some amazing thing to happen and to break us out of the sadness burrito we have found ourselves wrapped in.  At least, that's what I kept praying for.  But then all of the little things started adding up, fueling my fire, and making feel well...like a motherfucking WARRIOR.

Here are a few examples.  Alone..."oh cool, KT I'm glad you had a good day but why are you belting?"  Together...EVERYTHING IS AWESOME.

I made a total life upgrade by purchasing this adorable backpack and carrying it instead of a purse.  My sister has had one for a while, and I finally decided to make the switch.  Um...MY LIFE IS AN ADVENTURE.

I got to see one of my very favorite people, Nicole!!  We go way back to the Summer of Love - LCT 2003.  Since then we have gone to high school together, obsessed over the same people, and lived together in New York.  Oh and I won a bucket so...I'm set.

I feel like I've made HUMONGOUS strides in my recovery process, and each day I become more and more passionate about my journey and helping others who are also struggling.  It's really overwhelming to feel this deeply about something.  This past week I feel like EH finally hit me harder than I've ever experienced (that's Extreme Hunger - what happens when the body's hunger cues finally start lining up, metabolism kicks in, and all of a sudden...NOM NOM NOM GIVE ME ALL THE FOOD), and although I thought that EH would scare the shit out of me, it was actually fun and liberating.  I'm so proud of myself.

 

I celebrated a glorious Easter Sunday with my family (minus Andy, but I'll see him SO SOON).  It was relaxing after kicking it into over drive in church world to just prepare a delicious meal, enjoy the sunshine, have good conversation, and share a pie moment (rhubarb, what else).  Another victory - first holiday without a panic attack and absolutely NO Emily in sight.  Self five!

I've been reading some really great books including "Secrets and Wives" which is about my favorite subject of all time - MORMON POLYGAMY!

Laine and I took a mini road trip to NKU to see Spamalot!  On the way, we had fantastic conversation and iced coffee (what more do you need in life?!). While there, we met up with Hannah for drinks before hand, saw friends at the show, and stopped by Brandon's apartment to say hi.  I can't even explain how good it was to see everyone and to see an amazing production!  I am so proud to be an NKU theatre alum.

Mom and I made some delicious home made pizza, Veg-Bergers style.

It is warm and I have been spending lots of time outside in the sunshine. Happy KT.

I've had countless phone conversations with people I love.

I started a new journal.

I'm almost done with season 3 of "McLeod's Daughters."

Daryl Harris came to me in a dream.

Less than a month until Florida.

Everything is going to be OK.