Oct 25 2010

conquering fear.

For the longest time in my life, I let fear control me. I let it take the wheel and drive.   the ride would be easy straight road through the middle of nowhere, other days it felt like this theoretical car had been in a multiple car crash or launched over the edge of a cliff. For years the phrase “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” drove me mad, how could anyone understand my situation or judge that my fear was illogical. I balanced my life on the theory that facing + overcoming these fears were worse than succumbing to the pitfalls of their detriments.

There’s this book I have been recommended called “Feel The Fear + Do It Anyway!” – it’s gotten great reviews + people at my work practically shove it down residents throats. I never really felt much desire to read it – which is odd, because I love psychology related books, but my dear friend Brie puts it best ‘The title says it all. Why read one-hundred-odd pages of “Even if you think you’ll be fat if you recover, who cares? Feel the fear and do it anyway!” or “You might have been horribly traumatized as a child, and therefore; need your eating disorder to cope. But who cares? Feel the fear and do it anyway!” Or “Why did the chicken cross the road? Who cares? Feel the fear and do it anyway!'”

Throughout my life, I have had to major walls of fear t0 break, that of my people seeing my face + that of overcoming  an eating disorder.

As a normal teenage girl and unfortunately far into my twenties I faced the lovely problem of hormonal imbalances that left my face looking like craters on the moon. So what did I do? Of course! The same thing nearly every self conscious girl does – slather my entire face with about a pound or two of make up. Every day. I swear the only time anyone ever saw my face was the last + first few moments of the day. After years of over the counter remedies + multiple visits with dermatologists, it finally clicked into someones head to inquire + require these three things: 1. What are your eating habits? (Make sure to eat balanced meals with vitamin rich veggies. 2. STOP wearing so much (or any) makeup! {No brainer right??} 3. Breakouts in certain areas of the face indicate different reasons for the breakout. Wow. I was floored. How did no dermatologist ask/tell me about ANY of this – it took me finding an Esthetician to discover how horrible what many of the doctors prescribed was most likely making it worse. I urge any of you that is having acne troubles to drop your doc + see an Esthetician. The fear of allowing people to see my scarred + acne prone greasy skin haunted me + it took me months to get to a point we were I was able to wean myself off of everything but mascara. But it was worth it. Within DAYS of stopping the foundation + concealer – my skin began looking healthier. Each morning it still is a struggle to fight and probably will be for some time – I mean – who wants to feel like everyone is looking directly at the problem areas of your skin??! I sure don’t. My mask of make up had hid me from the world + coming back into it was ridiculously difficult. But I felt the fear, and I conquered it.

In recovery, fear is a majorsetback. The fear of what coping skills you will have when you no longer have ED to hide behind. The fear of what people will think of you – now that’s a kicker that will keep you up at night. The fear of eating “normal”. The fear of being able to go without counting calories. The fear of just being without being an eating disordered individual. Fears that no one should ever have to face. Fear stopped me for along time with making any progress in treatment. I was afraid to get better. Afraid to live a life outside of what had consumed the majority of my adult life. There had been times I had been able to knock it into submission + be “normal” *shudder*. But as soon as something unbearable happened, I would slip back in. I can’t slip any more. I needed a new pair of super traction boots. Every meal, every bite, every calorie was a struggle to take in. To keep it in was a whole ‘nother battle. One still have to fight every day, but I am doing it, and every morning I get up, boot up + fight. Every day, I feel the fear, and each day I work on conquering it.

Will you fight with me?


Oct 25 2010

rain on me.

Something you should know straight off, I love rain. I love rain. I love seeing it, standing in it,  running in it, playing in it, dancing in it, making out in it – the list could go on, and on, and on. But, I have no need for redundancy. Rain is great. If that makes me “emo” or “depressed” or whatever, so be it. Call it as you see fit. Rain is great. For me, rain not only cleans the garbage out of the valley air, it cleanses me to the core. For me, rain is spiritual. Everyone has their own personal way they connect with their creator. Some  go deep into the mountain forests. Some surround themselves in elaborate churches. Some delve in musical talents – of which I have none. For me, its as easy as standing outside in the storm. Strange you say? It makes complete sense actually.

Let me tell you why. Have you ever sat in one place for an extended period of time + focused only on one sense + everything that is hinged on that very sense within the moment? Standing in the rain can eliminate all other distractions in life, trying thinking about that deadline when your listening to the sounds of the rain, when all your energy is focused just on the pitter-patter of the rain drizzling on the leaves, the splashes on to the ever growing puddles. Zen. Are you beginning to catch on? Secondly, its a reminder of how great my God is, that my creator,  has made a promise to never let the storms overtake me.  This reminder echos throughout the rest of my life. That my God, is greater than all the stroms that come my way, that he will always provide me a way to overcome it, that he alone is capable of saving me. Just like he alone was capable of saving Noah + his family when the stroms over took the Earth – yeah – they had to work for it, God didn’t just give them a boat, but he gave them the resources to be safe {Genesis 6}. Rain is a reminder that God gave me the resources to build a boat in all situations.

So, go {yes you}, next time theres a storm, go stand in it, arms outstretched, face up, feel the rain on your face. Clear your mind and listen to the rainfall focusing all of your energy on the sounds that the rain brings. Rustling trees, the wind blowing, the sound of the raindrops hitting the ground. Feel your soul awaken.

I dare you.

grace + peace


Oct 1 2010

from the other side.

I am beginning this post sitting in the waiting room, a spot that I rarely find myself in, a spot that I never imagined to be in for the sweet person that I am sitting waiting to hear report on. Sitting waiting. Staring, glaring at the computer screen, eagerly awaiting the little check box by his masked number to move from “in the OR” to “PACU”. Good Lord, it can not come soon enough. There is not enough xanax on the planet for me at this moment. He’s not critical, he’s not even inpatient, its a simple outpatient surgery. WHY ON EARTH AM I PANICKING?

This is the weirdest felling. For years he has been by my side throughout endless doctors visits, er dates over anorexic episodes, manic depressions + the multitude of injuries that somehow manage to mark their way onto my body + medical records. {seriously, if someone was crazy enough to request my entirety of MR’s it would be over 3 feet tall} And now, I am the one in the opposing role, the one holding his hand telling him it will all be ok. I am the one who is {supposed} to have the sanity + calmness. I am the one making giggling comments about the sexy purple patient gown that totally brings out all his handsome features. Apparently, even on narcotics its not funny. But I am sure cackling.

I sneaked this photo of him when he was just waking up, bah! it’s blurry, but it’s all I got… {however, I am sure that he will soon sneak on here + delete it} It was so sad, he was so loopy. But in his normal fashion his brain first went to food: seriously, the first words he said out of anesthesia was “I want a cheesy gordita crunch”; needless to say, I cackled. I offered to have them place a NG tube, however, apparently, I am no longer funny. A few minutes later he began to become more “with it” and his usual humor showed its silly face – “is this real life”? If you haven’t seen the David after the Dentist video. Watch it. Our time Post Op seemed soooo long. But hey! I got some free ice cream out of it! And we personally knew our RN! Which made it great. She’s a super sweetie.

We are back home, stocked up on lots of powerade, narcotics + gelato! Yum. And of course we are all eagerly awaiting for his biking clearance to return…

Thanks for all of your prayers (: