Passing the Torch

*Bob Saget Voice* Kids, in the fall of 2013, I wrote a song called "Black or White". 

I love writing songs more than I love doing most things.  I love rushing home from work because I thought of a melodic line and a snippet of lyrics and if I don't get it down on paper that moment it might be gone forever. I love sequestering myself in my room and scribbling as fast as I can and strumming until it sounds right.  I love when I think of a perfect word that flawlessly conveys what I want to say.  I love when everything clicks into place.  For a while, I thought that was my favorite thing and my favorite feeling.  That was a high I thought could never be topped.  And then...we started rehearsing "Full" for the first time.  

I've now done this show...a few times.  Every time we start rehearsals and we add more people into our family, Blake and I take a few days to teach the music to the cast.  Once they have the music in their bodies and I hear them take ownership of the songs I experience something I (who I consider to be pretty okay with words) will always have trouble describing.  But let's just say that that is my very favorite feeling in the entire world.  When I first started writing the show, it was never my intent to be in it and it was definitely never my intent to play Harper, the lead role.  So when I joke that I wrote the role for myself, I actually didn't.  I never pictured myself on that stage.  This autumn, Blake High School is doing a production of the show and it is the first time I am not playing the role (aka not leaving the stage for 2 hours and going through the entire spectrum of emotions I experienced over the 5 years of my disorder and singing my heart out and crying tears of joy as I reluctantly but hopefully leave the stage as the final chord sounds).   I think the main reason I never cast anyone else in the role is because it's a lot to ask of a person.  It's a lot to take abuse from Emily for two whole acts and then somehow find the strength to belt out "Black or White" after everything else is falling apart around you.  Trust me.  I've done it a few times now.

On Thursday I had the honor of accompanying Emma, who is playing Harper at Blake at a cabaret performance of "Black or White".  It actually might have been the first time I've only played the music without singing along, and once again I experienced my favorite feeling on earth.  I love singing my music.  It's mine.  No one can take that away from me.  But I love sharing it even more. Hearing others take my songs and make them their own.  Taking ownership of the words and melody and finding truth in them from their own journeys. These are my songs, but they are also yours.

Peace, Love, and Colors ALL around,
KT <33

Meet the Family

My name is Katie Berger and I have three beautiful children I would like you to meet.

Obviously, if you're reading this, you know Angela (she's the title of this blog, after all).  My Mom got me this beautiful concert soprano ukulele one fateful Christmas day and the rest is history.  I've told the story of why Angela is so important to me numerous times but I think it's pretty cool and it's been a while so there might be people reading who don't know!  When I was in treatment, my therapist tasked me with finding a "tangible object" that could, in some ways, replace the security blanket my disorder had become.  Easier said than done, of course, but I love homework so I went home that night ready to find something that would help me through the darkest moments.  Frustrated that nothing really made me feel safe or confident, I picked up my uke and practiced until I felt better.  It then hit me that my uke would obviously have to be my object.  Since that moment, I threw myself into music and it very much saved my life.  I always say that without recovery, my love for songwriting would not be anywhere close to what it is now.  I wrote Full on this instrument, and I pretty much still exclusively write all my music on it as well.

Oh and if you're curious, she's named after the unseen character in the musical Hair.  "Tell him Angela and I don't want our two dollars back, just him," 

Last Christmas I made it very clear that I wanted one thing and one thing only - a Tenor.  Mom delivered, as she usually does when it comes to Christmas presents (see above).  I was gifted with a new acoustic/electric baby, who I named Bobby Maler - after the unseen character mentioned in the musical Spring Awakening.  I love a theme.  

My newest child is a brand new Fender amp I got for my birthday this year!  I named her Penny because as soon as I ripped the box open and plugged in I started playing "Penny and Me" without even thinking.  Because...well...Penny and me like to roll the windows down, turn the radio on and push the pedal to the ground.  You know?  I can't wait to bring her along to gigs all over town in the near future (It's always Penny and me toniiiiiiiight).  

What have I learned in writing this post?  That Pam Berger is too good for this world.  

Peace, Love, and Ukes,

KT 

Back again for more.

Hello everyone!  Wow, I haven't written here in a while.  I've been a little busy...

What's more is that when I stopped writing here before, it was because I didn't need it anymore.  And that was honestly a great feeling.  Writing this blog was a huge help to my recovery -- it was therapeutic in a lot of ways.  I felt like I was slowly clearing out all the passageways blocked up from years of my disorder.  Untangling strands in my brain until this whole recovery thing made sense.  There came a point where I didn't need to do that anymore, so I stopped blogging, and started focusing on my playwriting and composing.

After getting back from New York, I have had so many creative ideas but not many have come to fruition.  I am in the ideation phase of creativity which is, unfortunately for me your text book achiever, kind of frustrating.  I just want to DO things.  I have so many things I want to write about!  So many things I want to say!  And because of this, I decided to dust off this old thing.  My blog before was successful and helpful to me and the people who read it.  I think that's awesome.  It's going to be a little different now.  A nice cocktail of music and writing and life post recovery and finding happiness even with all the crazy crap going on in the world right now. I hope you'll join me....as usual, I have a lot to say.

-KT

Restoration

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

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

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

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

2014

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

In 2014 I...

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

Top 5 Moments of 2014:

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

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

Get at me, 2015...

Coming Home.

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

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

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

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

Happy Holidays, everyone.  I love you. <33

I know that there is so much more...

Outside there are choices

Colors, warmth, and giving.

If I could just get out there I'd be very good at living. 

I started writing "FULL" last October after a particularly trying day of treatment.  I was walking home and images, sounds, and lyrics filled my brain.  I fell asleep writing that night.  I don't care what higher power you ascribe to, but I know at that moment I was experiencing something divine that I never had before.  It was like ideas were pouring out of me and I couldn't move my pen or strum my ukulele fast enough.  Monday night, with the help of some of my best friends in the entire world, I was able to share my creation for the first time. 

I have been having trouble truly putting the experience I had on Monday into words, but I will say it was one of the best nights of my life so far.  The love I felt inside that room was unlike anything I have ever felt.  And that is because of all of you.  For helping me write this story, for your interest and kind words, for your support, and for your excitement...thank you will never be enough.  And the most exciting part?  This is just the beginning!!  Monday night was the first reading.  In the words of Harper: "This is not the final page, I know that there is so much more."  Yes, "FULL" is my story...but it is also everyone's story.  Everyone has a demon that they have to fight.  Everyone is the hero of their own story. 

Kelly -- Thank you for pushing me to do this.  Your support and love has been everything to me and it's because of you that I really dove into this with both feet.  I could not have done it without you...and not in a creepy Emily way, in a you are the best and a total badass way. 

Taylor, Susan, Jim, and Miriam -- The love I have in my heart for you is indescribable. I could not have asked for a better group of people to present this story!  Thank you for holding me up. So...next step Broadway?  Great. 

Matt, Eric, and Jim -- Thank you SO MUCH for letting me do this.  I am so honored to be a part of the freeFall family.  

There is no rest for the obsessive...bring on the rewrites!!! 

<333