Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has always been a difficult time for me. This year, however, I finally feel some peace about where I am. Last year I wanted things to be perfect. I was falling apart inside and somehow I thought the perfect Thanksgiving would fix it. It turns out my Eating Disorder ruled the day: I purged seven times. I had a good time at my brothers, but I wish I hadn't snuck off so many times to pay a penance to a "god". This year, I decided to let go. It hit me that Thanksgiving is just a day. It doesn't matter how many traumatic things (an intervention, my grandfather's heart attack...) have happened in the past. It doesn't matter that it won't be a perfectly traditional holiday: it is just a day.

I feel that this reflects so much of how my life has changed. I no longer NEED everything to be perfect. (Okay, let's be honest I am still a perfectionist, but I have some acceptance for imperfection.) I can let go. I have learned to use my voice and pay attention to what I need. I am no where near completely healthy and completely happy but I am so far from where I have been.

So this year, more than anything, I am thankful for change, hope, and recovery.

Proclamation... thanks Thom Rutledge

Losing her because I can't lose me...

I am trying so hard to let "words be words" but I just had an upsetting conversation. I know that I should of moved this girl out of my circle a LONG time ago, but sometimes, I just can't let go of people.

I made this mistake of telling her I had a bad night Monday. She went off about how I am a huge liar and I am not recovering. I told her, as I was advised a few weeks ago by girls in group, that a slip is a slip. Recovery is a process. We had a lot of drama surrounding this, but eventually I cut the conversation off and went out for the night.

Today, I sent her an invite to TWOLHA day on Nov. 13th (more on that later). She then messaged me saying she was rejecting the invite. After a short conversation, I got called a bunch of uncreative names. Then was told I am not in recovery because I refuse to Webcam. (That is one of my therapy goals, after-all: to be able to webcam. <-- SARCASM) I was told that recovery has turned me into an arrogant bitch. (I think it is just turned me into a real, honest human that doesn't let people walk all over her.) The clincher was the second she, in all caps, proclaimed that, "AT LEAST I WEAR A 00..." She went onto say that, "Skinny is beautiful" and all she needs. She said, "I can weight xx pounds and eat whatever I want." Then slyly asked if I was triggered. The truth is, I wasn't triggered to hear her weight. I don't want to wear a 00 or be xx pounds. I want to be healthy. Yes, I have body image issues. Yes, I want to weigh a little less than I do, but I don't want to be that sick. EVER. Period.

What hurts is not what she said. What hurts is not that she essentially told me I am fat. What hurts is that I lost another connection to my past. I know, however, that I don't need abuse in my life. I have some amazing Wise Women supporting me: that is what I need. I can't waste time and energy trying to help someone that obviously doesn't want to be loved.

I hate losing people. I hate pushing them away.

I wish I could save her: I am only human.

It is time...

Last week was full of struggles. I sat on the bathroom floor Sunday evening engulfed in tears. I heard myself sob to the silence that, "I... can't... fall apart... like this... again." I wanted to scream at myself for falling so hard. I couldn't believe I had done the very thing I hate most. I couldn't believe I was throwing so much away. Instead of wallowing, I stood up, cleaned up my mess, pulled on a sweatshirt and headed out to my car.

I let tears trickle down my cheeks as I drove to Richmond. I whispered prayers of desperation, of shame, and prayers desperate for forgiveness. I crawled into bed at my mother's house feeling safer than I did at home, but still scared for my future. I could feel the demons I have fought so hard to shake breathing down my neck. If anyone has ever needed to scream for God, I did then. And amazingly... I did. I called. I let myself ride a silent prayer into sleep: and that has made all the difference.

I awoke the next morning in a state of peace. I went about my plans for the day: shopping and coffee with my mother, a movie with a friend. Until... I ran out of gas. Normally, this would of set off panic, self-loathing, and utter despair, but instead I was rational. As I sat in my car waiting for my rescue to come, I was struck by the analogy this situation provided. I neglected my car and put myself into quite the crisis, but the easiest way to solve this was to remain calm and do the "next right thing". (Kudos to Jenni Schafer for coining that phrase.) I needed to call for help, learn from my mistakes, and just move on.

I arrived to therapy and group that evening with a feeling of awe. I was almost numb from the intensity of all that I was seeing and feeling. I was emerging from my denial and hopelessness and it was amazing.

The next morning I walked into Elisabeth's office to hear her speak fervently about the hope for my future "Recovered" life. It was one of the most empowering things I have heard. I knew in those moments that this IS a choice. That I CAN rewire my brain. I WILL get past this. I will.

It is hard to explain what I am feeling tonight, but I think it is the first taste of real, true, all encompassing hope I have ever had. I just feel like there is so much more to life that I have let myself see. (And yes, I mean LET myself see. It has always been there. I have just pushed it away.) I went to a bible study tonight and was totally struck by the phrase:

"You have all of the Holy Spirt, but does the Holy Spirit have all of you?"

It just hit me that if I would give myself fully to what is good and true, I would fully be able to experience what is good and true. It is time to let myself, "be filled with the Spirit." It is time, Alanna.

It is time.

It is not in the Falling Down

Today would have been my six months without self-harming, but unfortunately, I had to start the count over. There have been two slips in the last week. I was pretty upset about this. (In a way, I still am.) My dietician reminded me of what I wrote to a girl in my group -- I hope she doesn't mind that I am posting this. It is funny how you can tell someone else exactly what you need to hear.

"Thank you for sharing your slip with us. That is what it is, my dear, a little slip. It is not a failure.... No one succeeds in recovery (or in anything for that matter)

by perfection. So what if you didn't make it 75 days? So what if I didn't make it six months? We still overcame something. We still did something neither of us thought we could.

Girl, you rock!

ED found a window to crawl through tonight, but you get to choose whether or not he stays in the house. Go out there and kick him off your couch. (Trust me, he doesn't like any of the good TV shows, or have anything good to talk about: he is a lousy house g

uest.) This is not your old life. You do not need ED to help you survive this depression you feel coming on. He may have kept you above water in the past, but now you have so many more tools. (Plus, you have US!) I know from personal experience how easy the depression can make it to cling to behaviors, but you don't have to. You can chose to believe you will get through it. You can chose.

I know this battle is long and hard. I know it seems like you are never going to win. (I am there with you, sometimes.) But you have to keep on believi

ng. Ed capitalizes on the times we feel like he is winning. Remember what you are in this fight for. Remember how good it feels to experience those moments of joy and happiness. Remember and know you are not alone. "

"Failure is not falling down but refusing to get up." - Chinese Proverb

I have made a decision. No more jerks. No more immature losers without dreams. No more needy, clingy, abusive, or demanding guys. If that means I am alone: so be it. I have the best girl-friends in the world. I have mentors. I have family. I have God: I have enough. I am done being hurt. I am done being abused.

Reminders:

This is not my old life. I have tools. I have support. I have strength. I have a new life now: I can breathe.

I must keep walking. To look back is to become a pillar of salt. When the old habits call: keep walking. When my past threatens my future, keep walking. Just keep walking.