Breakthrough
In January 2015, I committed to journaling regularly. By mid-March, I committed to eating disorder recovery. In April, I started weekly sessions with a therapist who specialized in eating disorders. And by July 2015, I was an emotional tinderbox.
It had been three and a half months since I last used one of my go-to numbing behaviors (binging, purging, obsessing about losing weight, etc.). The force of my previously unchecked, unnamed and unprocessed emotions shattered the boundaries of my journal and bled onto my family and friends.
Looking at the July 2015 entries today, I see so many emotions: anxiety, fear, frustration, anger, loneliness, sadness, confusion, desire, empathy, compassion, curiosity, dedication, determination. Journaling regularly for almost six months was starting to yield results.
As I read the entries now, I see how I was learning to process my feelings and emotions. Letting them out in my journal gave me a safe space to explore what I was feeling and begin to name and understand my emotions. Those feelings didn’t always stay in my journal but that’s okay. I was figuring it out.
I remember feeling overwhelmed, like I was barely keeping my head above water. But I kept going, I kept journaling, I kept eating, I kept pushing back against the eating disorder. By the end of the July 2015, I had what I can now identify as a tangible breakthrough.
Even now, almost seven years later, I vividly remember the moment I was able to communicate what I was experiencing to Steve in a way he understood. Steve had always supported my recovery, but he didn’t understand it. He didn’t know how to reach me.
The me who had been hidden deep inside beneath layers and layers of shame, guilt and regret. After months of journaling and hard work, that part of me was able to reach out to Steve. It gave us a grounded connection. Something real, something sustainable. Something to move us forward.
July 8, 2015
Depression crept in again. Actually, I’m not sure it is depression. I am just sad. I’m looking for something to inspire me and snap me out of it. I am constantly checking Facebook and Twitter looking for inspiration and/or something to district me for a few minutes.
The sadness drove me to overeat this afternoon. I didn’t go overboard. I felt full which was the feeling I was searching for. I just wish I could find the fullness I seek in something other than food. Last week I was so busy and tired, it f elt good, but I didn’t have the energy to do anything else. I want to be inspired and do something that makes me feel great and excites me.
I don’t want to be skinny I want to be strong and physically fit. I don’t know why I can’t just commit to getting fit. I get overwhelmed by the competition of it all. Maybe I’ll just focus on myself and not get competitive. When I started excelling at Gold’s Fit, I started to slow down and get less committal. I had so much fun doing the competition and working out with friends. I need to get my shit back. Stop focusing on why I can’t do it and focus on why I can.
July 9, 2015
I intended to go to Fit this morning but, honestly, the thought of pushing my body that hard this morning is soul crushing. I will make the commitment to go to the gym today at some point.
I need to figure out where I’m going and what I am doing. I am not happy. I know I need more in my life but for some reason I don’t pursue more. And while I have a great full-time job of watching my kiddos, I am not doing a particularly great job at that either because I am so focused on how miserable I am.
Focus on things you focus on:
Lately it has been Ninja Warrior, Parks and Rec (I pretty much watch it daily because it makes me happy and puts me at ease), I am still interested in the #Blacklivesmatter movement and working out (although I haven’t done it in awhile).
Yesterday I obsessively checked twitter and Facebook looking for something to distract me from life for any amount of time. It’s like I am looking for something to spark inspiration and get my fire going. But nothing does and I feel beholden to my damn phone and miss out on my wonderful boys.
Another part of my pattern are my bold goals. Like the 30-Day Challenge thing, it became so huge that I only did it for a couple days. I think making a commitment to write in my journal daily is probably a more realistic and attainable goal. It is also a goal that could potentially help me. I did sit down and write a couple times yesterday when I was feeling bad. And I only really used food to manage my feelings once in the late afternoon.
July 15, 2015
I locked each boy in his room for his own safety. They both drove me over the edge today. I cannot believe I am saying this, but there are moments when I cannot stand my kids.
I should have known better than to bring both boys to the train museum in the afternoon. Things went well when we got there. The boys love the toy train and watched it go round and round. Then I said we had to go potty (I had to go) and after we could ride the real train.
Wyatt was great and Harrison caused a little flack, but it was minor, and we got over the hump with ease. After the potty, Wyatt rode the pedal car which was great, and Harrison enjoyed watching him even though he couldn’t do it. The train ride was great! The conductor suggested I sit on the outside (I was in the middle) and I said that sounded perfectly reasonable. The boys did a great job listening to mommy and just enjoying the ride. Then they wanted to go up the hill to see the big trains. Okay. All went well up to that point.
We got to the top of the hill; Wyatt walked while I pushed H in the stroller. They wanted to go inside the museum. Harrison acted up (read: blood curdling scream) a couple times. He also messed with a rope so one of the workers came over to intervene. I just grabbed him and carried him out of the building.
We had a pleasant time sitting on the picnic bench drinking water and eating goldfish. Then we were off to play on the big trains. It was great because I trusted Wyatt to keep an eye out for his little brother. So, I watched outside while they ran through the three train cars. They must have done it three or four times. We had another water break. Then the boys ran to the end the row of trains. The boys sat for a moment and had more water and then we walked down another row of trains.
The boys’ faces were bright red, and they were clearly starting to get over tired. I said we could head home and watch some Curious George and relax. I mentioned we could even get some ice cream. Harrison was on board, but Wyatt refused to move. I started walking, in the hopes that Wyatt would follow. I walked probably 50 feet and he didn’t budge.
A woman sitting on a bench watched all if it. That felt super. I locked the stroller and buckled Harrison in the seat and went over to get Wyatt. Wyatt refused to walk so I eventually had to pick that boy up. I noticed someone standing in the shade by Harrison. I just figured she was enjoying some shade. Oh no, she had some lovely judgment for me. She said she felt uncomfortable because I had walked so far away, so she stayed by Harrison. I genuinely said thank you because maybe she did it for “it takes a village” reasons and not super judgy “I can’t believe she walked 50 feet away from her kid.”
Anyway, Wyatt forced me to carry him in the oppressive heat. I had to carry him from the big trains at the top of the hill until almost the bottom of the zig zaggy hill in front of the train. I had to stop a least three times because he was so damn heavy, and it was so f-ing hot.
July 16, 2015
I am a little better today. Still a wee frustrated by life but better than yesterday. I have instincts to eat all the sweet food in the house, but I am holding off and trying to be more constructive. I am genuinely unhappy and am having trouble finding my happiness. The boys are driving me nuts, mostly Harrison. The screaming. That kid will just scream at me. I screamed back at him, and he shut up. I don’t know what to do.
July 17, 2015 (written in a separate document titled “Sandra Bland”)
Sandra Bland’s death confirms that system always wins. I do not know if Sandra Bland died by suicide in that jail cell. If she did, it is the system that drove her to it.
As soon as she spoke her mind it was very easy for him to “feel threatened” and jump to an assaulting an officer charge. He may have asked her to get out of the car and she refused. Now he gets physical and pulls her out of the car and puts her face down on the ground. He is on top of her, knee on her back, aggressively cuffing her. She is yelling and shouting that this is ridiculous. That they are hurting her. She is probably in shock and cannot believe they are being so violent and aggressive with her. There are two police, and they have weapons. At that point, it doesn’t matter if the cops are right or wrong. They have the upper hand and can do whatever they want.
They arrest her for assaulting an officer, and with that charge she has to go to jail. At that point it doesn’t matter if she even laid a finger on them, and for the sake of argument let’s assume that she never laid a finger on the cops, they can charge her with whatever they want and hold her, at the very least, overnight in a jail cell (this occurred on a Friday and many courts do not have hearings on the weekend so she could have been held without bail until Monday.) This county did have hearings on weekends so the next morning, a Saturday, her bail was set at $5,000.
Assuming that she did nothing wrong, she has now been in jail overnight and now she won’t get out unless her family and/or loved ones come up with $5,000. She also had the option of purchasing bail bond at $500 (10% of the bail amount) which would have also gotten her out of jail. However, bail bonds are typically nonrefundable (i.e. you’re not getting that $500 back) plus you have to put up collateral to show that you are good for the rest of the $5000. Now, if she was able to come up with the $5000 and she appeared at her next court date she would get most of that money back (minus some court admin fees) but it wouldn’t be for a least a month or two, depending upon how backed up the court was.
Can you imagine, doing nothing wrong and being held in jail because a cop didn’t like your attitude? It can happen and does happen, a LOT. At that initial stage the cop has all the power, presumption of innocence my ass, if the cop says it, there is enough of a presumption of guilt to legally hold an innocent person in jail for three days (Friday, Saturday, Sunday).
Sandra was pulled over for a signal violation. A motherfucking signal violation. She likely failed to turn on a blinker when she made a turn or changed lanes. A violation that every single damn driver has done. I question how this was even a violation worthy of pulling her over. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that Ms. Bland was PISSED when she was pulled over. I know I would be.
July 30, 2015
I’m back. I haven’t written in a while and have been dealing with depression. I am not proud of how I handled the boys yesterday. Most of the day was fine but by the end of the day I was worn out and my patience fried. Wyatt was sweet and tried to help me. I was super irritated by the time Steve got home and took it out on him. It wasn’t fair and Steve said as much.
After lashing out, I finally broke down and told Steve what I’m experiencing. How hard it is to manage the anxiety. It overwhelms me and that’s when I usually turn to my eating disorder. Binging and purging relieve the anxiety, they lead to shame and exhaustion, but at least the anxiety is gone.
The next day it starts all over again. I feel excitement and hope in the morning, then the anxiety slowly starts to build. There are things I’ve done in the past to help manage the anxiety. But they are all eating disordered: having a rigid meal plan, or maybe working out a ton, or having little binges throughout the day. But the tension and anxiety continue to build until I eventually break down and binge and purge. This happens every month or every other month.
As of right now, I’ve gone three months without binging and purging. The last time I purged was May 7, so almost 3 months, and I haven’t been using behaviors like I use to.
I feel the depression and the anxiety more often now because I don’t have any “sure-thing” coping mechanisms to alleviate those feelings. My talk with Steve helped and the 8 Keys support group I went to last Monday night felt good. In both situations I let myself be vulnerable. I was scared because I didn’t know what to say but I spoke anyway.
I want to make this better and I know allowing myself to be vulnerable helps, but sometimes I don’t know what it is that I am feeling, and I have a hard time expressing it. Last night felt like a breakthrough because I was able to articulate the anxiety I feel to Steve in a way he understood. I told him that the feeling he gets the week before trial is what I feel almost every day in varying degrees.
***This post is part of blog series called Revealing My Road to Recovered. For more information about the series please click here: Revealing My Road to Recovered.
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