Sometimes I walk off stage and wonder if it was really necessary that I talked about my recovery in that particular situation, like do I always have to find a way to mention it? But then as I was leaving the venue last night one women told me she was 6 months sober and she had that wild look in her eye of someone who is still holding on tight. Someone else told me she is coming up on 4 years and she appreciated my openness. A dad came up to me and told me that his son is currently in a dual diagnosis inpatient treatment center and it made him hopeful to know that a dual diagnosis program helped me. So now, with immense amounts of gratitude, I am thinking about the people who I heard speak from the stage about recovery when I first stopped drinking. Monday will be 18 years off the sauce for me. And even if it’s not relevant to most of the audience or feels a bit redundant I’m gonna keep talking about it. Just in case. Because I know.
Love and service.
***To be totally transparent - I have smoked pot a few times since I quit drinking and was reminded why I was never really a pot smoker. I hate it. I also tried mushrooms twice a few years ago. I discussed it before and after with my psychiatrist. She thought it might pop the cork on a lot of shit I had deeply bottled up. (It did). So this is why I don’t claim to have been sober for 18 years but rather I say “off the sauce”.
Do you know why? Because after years of abuse and tears. After all that time forcing food back up your throat, avoiding it at all costs, scratches on your abdomen that bleed and cry for you to stop, but you just can’t.
After all pain and suffering, once you feel like you truly have it together, you really don’t.
Sometimes your in the bathroom with sharp pains that make you feel like you’re dying. You have scars and stretch marks like lightening bolts covering the skin that you fought for so long to perfect. Your teeth and stained multicoloured from the times you just couldn’t keep things down, and you still feel it, oh fuck you still feel it.
Even when you’re eating right and you’re holding things down, it’s still there. It’s there when you look in the mirror every time you go to leave the room, even when you aren’t consciously thinking about it. It’s there when your pulling at your clothes and groping at yourself when you don’t even know you’re actually doing it. It’s there when you hear girls talking about how little they’ve eating and instead of being worried you feel so broken, because you’re not that strong. You’re not strong enough to eat less, to be less, to be beautiful like them.
You think all these fucked up things, even though you know what that behaviour does. You ignore the abuse you put your body through, as your insides suffer, because you were so angry that your outside wouldn’t cooperate even though all your body ever did was try to survive.
Eating disorders and terrifying, because they’ll never go away. You’ll never stop feeling the guilt when you eat. It’ll always be about food and how you look and the grabbing and the constant shame, but you’ll never be able to stop it.
Today I found my NYE resolutions from last year; topping the list was “get control of ED”. I am now 10 months (314 days!) free from eating disorder behaviors. Recovery is SO worth it. I cannot believe after 13 years of behaviors how different and rewarding my life is. It isn’t about the weight, the control, the need; it is about listening to my body and cravings, letting life happen, and feeling my emotions. If you are on the fence, believe me when I say recovery is worth it. Truly, my life is worth living. Without the eating disorder, I am unstoppable.
The kids come back to classes tomorrow, which means my job starts back up for real tomorrow and Routine is more important than ever.
The trial run of the last two weeks hasn’t been too bad so far. My sleep wasn’t awesome last week and that led to waking up on time but not necessarily leaving bed early enough to eat breakfast/rushing and forgetting important things like meds for the day.
I can’t really control that, though, and since I’m essentially being let go because of this particular symptom, I’ve decided to be kind to myself and go in late if that’s what I gotta do instead of calling off for the entire day. So that’s okay.
(I don’t like to be That Person who just says “fuck it I’m leaving anyways” when it comes to work but I mean, I’m an ALT. At best I am the Token Foreigner in the classroom. It’s not that serious. Not serious enough to prioritize over my own wellbeing in any case.)
Anyways this weekend was pretty good. Got to relax in a milky turquoise hot spring and stare up at the snow and the mountains. Got to go see the deepest lake in Japan. Ate what is probably the best pizza in Japan, too! Was supposed to see Rogue One today but for some reason the local theater only has the dub right now and I’m not about that life.
Gonna get some cleaning done, eat some dinner, do a face mask because sulfur was great for all of my skin except my face lol, do a bath bomb because I am in fact a Basic White Girl who worships the sorcerers at Lush, and head to bed.
I am anxious as hell!!! About real work starting back up!!!! BUT I WILL SCREAM THROUGH IT IT IS 2017 I CAN DO THIS I GOT THIS.
You’re new ‘round here, so listen close: this is what I’ve got on that synth detective of Diamond City. Yeah, he’s a pal to the great, green jewel, and he’s right chummy with those freaks in Goodneighbor. They say in your darkest hour, it’ll be his hand reaching down, pulling you out of the unique despair of this wasteland shitshow. But mark my words, to the violent scum who add to the chaos, he’s your worst enemy. My best advice, kid? Watch your step. Stay clean. Stay good. And if you’re lucky enough to get the ol’ dick on your side, he’ll watch your back for life.
After spending almost all year travelling the world with Ford, Stan is happy to be back in the comfort of his home. Retired and looking forward to a week of blissful domestic relaxation before the twins return to stay for the summer, the last thing he expected to turn up on his doorstep was Rick Sanchez. No seriously, just who is this guy? Can he help Stan remember that large gap in his long-term memories that Ford and the kids couldn’t fill? Does Stan even want to remember?
I’m cheering for you. All of you. All of my lovely friends and followers and mutuals. I know I barely have the energy to keep up with anyone, and I rarely post anything of value, but I’m always supporting you. And I’ll try to send positivity your way whenever I can.
Thank you for everything! Take care of yourselves.