A Safe Place

A Safe Place

The jangle of the phone rattles my nerves
startling me out from under the weight of memories
and I breathe in and sigh
leaving the ring unanswered
Lost and lonely today
I wander through rooms
searching for the peace and comfort of home
but you are not here and I sink into a silent panic
afraid that you will never again walk through the door
Irrational fear settles into the racing of my heart
as I nervously fold the laundry with trembling hands
Mistakenly, I think that I've heard the garage door open
my throat constricting with relief
until I realize it is only my imagination
and the tears prick my eyes for a moment
before I shake my head
Sitting on the edge of our bed
I draw my knees to my chest
cradling myself until I hear your footsteps on the stairs
your voice breaking the stillness of dread
and I'm wrapped in the safety of your arms once again

Angela Minard 2010©

Morning Comes

Morning Comes

Sitting in the sun

where the dark shadows are done

the night feels far away

there is now no need to run

Waking dreams disappear

with the light

The streaming brightness

hides the fear

Coffee brewing

Children chatter

Newspaper rustling

as you work your puzzle

The sounds of morning

fill my ears

I wait for you to come

and sit by my side

your breath warm on my cheek

the gentle safety of your arms

that rest against my shoulders

Sinking into you

Holding on tight to the day

Angela Minard 2010©

Weak

I'm barely eating. Even dinner has gone by the wayside, and although I'm so tired of being like this, there is the nagging voice in my head that tells me that I must not eat. I refused to be weighed by my nutritionist last week, and not because I'm afraid that the scale will tell me that I'm losing, but because I'm afraid that it will tell me that I'm not. I'm too exhausted to even get on the treadmill, and that makes me feel guilty. I'm worried about work, and my sleep is fitful at best. I'm being moved to yet another school on Monday. At least it is in a Jr. High, which I prefer to the younger kids, but it is starting over somewhere new, which causes me a great amount of anxiety. I'm still with the kindergartner's in the afternoons, and I'm not really loving that. All it is is potty training and chasing kids around for the most part, and not the best use of my skills as far as I'm concerned. I'm sorry that all that I do is complain and whine here, but I have to release it, and writing helps me so much. I feel like the life is being sucked out of me, and I know it is my own fault. If only I could eat, I know that I would feel better, but I even hate the words eat, food, and hunger. My nutritionist also said the word relapse to me on Thursday which really scares me. I don't want this to be a relapse. Maybe once everything settles down at work, I can get back on track. I feel so sick, body and mind, and very disappointed and frustrated with myself. I think that I'm a horrible person so much of the time.

I miss my therapist who has been out of town due to the death of her sister. I worry that I'm too attached to her. Therapy relationships are so strange. I think of her as a good friend, but I also know that is not what we really are. I asked her to sit on the couch with me one time, because I needed to feel her close to me, and now we always sit that way, shoes off, knees curled up, facing each other, and I confide, and she tells me funny stories when things get too intense. She always gives me a hug at the end of our sessions. She comforts me, and that is what I need right now. It will feel weird to complain about my own problems when her sister just died, and she is dealing with her own pain. I will see her on Wednesday, and I worry about the awkwardness. She says work helps her though, so I hope that it really does.

I want to be a better person. Really, I do. I'm going to try harder, and as soon as I finish this post, I'm going to eat something. I need a fresh start.

Stranger Danger

My head is reeling from a day of autism, tantrums, and chaos, but I can't seem to shut my mind down and sleep, which is frustrating, because I'm so tired. Today I carried a boy kicking and screaming from the playground, got smacked in the face, and slipped in a puddle of pee. Those tidbits are only the highlights:) I wonder some days if I make a difference, or I'm just a glorified babysitter, and really, I'm not that glorified! Oh well...it's a job, and for that I'm grateful. Without it, I wouldn't have medical insurance to pay for all of these drugs and doctors to keep me sane. Speaking of doctors, I saw my trauma therapist this evening. I know this may sound strange, but we talked about my fear of answering the door when someone rings the bell, and of my fear of strangers in general. I will literally hide when someone rings my door bell, and I won't even answer it if it is a stranger. I also try not to make eye contact with people when I'm out in public, or when I'm driving in my car, which probably make me more of a target, because I seem like I'm unaware of what is going on around me. I think it is safe not to answer the door to strangers. Isn't that what we teach our kids? I guess it isn't normal to cower in a part of my house in fear though, and my husband thinks that this is a problem. We talked about it being a part of the PTSD, and my inability to trust people. I have a lot of anxiety around people that I don't know. He didn't really give me any ideas for how to get over it though, and maybe I won't get over it. I tend to think that it keeps me safe, and that is all I want is to be safe. It makes perfect sense to me that because I trusted strangers that I was later raped by, that I would be wary of letting strangers ever again get close to me. It would be nice to be a little less fearful, but I'm not so scared that I can't leave the house. I guess if it ever came to that, then I would think of it as more of an issue. I really would like to take some self defense classes or something, so then I could just kick some butt:)

Well, that is all for now. I must try to get some sleep in order to deal with more little people shenanigans tomorrow. Oh, wait...it already is tomorrow.

An Update

I made it through this first week of school, and I do have to say that it wasn't all that bad. On Thursday I was moved back into the Jr. High temporarily in the mornings until I can train someone new to take my place, so it was good to be back in my old classroom where I feel at home. I'm still with the little people in the afternoons. I've been exhausted when I come home from work. I get my toes stepped on a lot, and I've been working with a biter, which isn't all that much fun, but I've managed to keep the teeth away from making contact so far! It is such a busy and chaotic environment, but I'm sure that I will adjust to it. I do like the staff, and they have all been welcoming. I have to be prepared for moving again though, and I don't do well with change. It is definitely a part of the job that I don't like. The kids make it worth it, and I feel like I've at least accomplished something at the end of the week.
Lunch between schools has been okay. I've been eating the protein bars. I'm definitely not consuming enough calories during an entire day, but I'm getting something in for now. I'm sure it will improve as my stress level decreases. Right now I have a lot more rules in my head about food in general. I have a 500 calorie a day rule, and no junk food. Dave made hamburgers on the grill this week, which I would not eat. I've mostly been living on the protein bars, cereal, and yogurt. I'm still trying to sit down to dinner with my family, but even that has been hit or miss. Last night I was too tired to even eat dinner. I also received a call from my therapist last night saying that she would have to cancel some appointments because her sister is dying. That really hit me hard for some reason. She has told me so many funny stories about her sister, and I almost feel like I know her. The empathy that I feel for my therapists pain is strong.
I can always see my trauma therapist if I need to touch base with someone, and I will still see my nutritionist next week. I feel like I'm needing a great deal of support right now, as I'm struggling quite a bit. I'm not dreading this next week at work though, so that should definitely be an improvement.
Well, that is all for now. I'm off to the pool today to hang with some friends, and get some vitamin D therapy. I'm wishing everyone a great weekend, and I also want to thank everyone for the wonderful and supportive comments on my last pathetic post! They mean more than you know:)

I entertain the idea of climbing into bed, climbing away from everyone and everything, and burying myself under heavy blankets. I'm so cold. I don't really want to go away though. I want to stay, only I want to be different...a different me somehow. I'm not making sense. I'm so tired.

Today was fine. I woke up and went to work, but I feel detached and foggy. I came home, and I wanted to try to eat, but I just couldn't make myself. I sat on the couch with Dave, and his concern made me cry. The fact that I'm struggling so much made me cry. He wanted to cheer me up, so he went and bought me a new phone for my birthday. My other phone was prehistoric:) Afterwards, I went to the grocery store. I bought protein bars, greek yogurt, and cereal. All things that I think I would like to eat. I thought I could eat the protein bars while I was driving between schools at lunch time. There is no way that I will be able to eat at work in front of strangers. Everything seems so hard right now, as if I'm trudging through mud. I didn't call my therapist like I was going to do. Even explaining that I'm floundering feels too hard. Writing this is hard. I'm going to stop.

Good Enough Part 2

As the weekend draws to a close, I find my anxiety level steadily mounting. I'm worried about my new job assignments. I know that I overthink everything, but I'm not sure how to stop my mind from working in high gear. The "what if's" get in my way. What if I don't do a good job working with the little people? What if no one likes me? Doesn't that sound so juvenile? I care too much about what other people think of me.

This weekend has been hit or miss when it comes to food. Friday was definitely a miss. I was super stressed when I got home from work, so I went out and bought a bottle of wine. I made some pasta for dinner, and Dave and I enjoyed the wine while we ate, but then after we ate, I went upstairs and purged everything. I haven't done that in quite awhile, and when it does happen, it is like I'm on auto pilot. It doesn't even feel like I'm consciously thinking about purging. All I know is that I need to be empty, and it is such a relief in the moment, until the guilt and shame set in. Saturday was better. I made myself a mango smoothie in the afternoon, and then for dinner that night, I finally ate a bowl of that cereal that I had been wanting to try. I ate cereal instead of the pizza that I bought for everyone else because the pizza felt too scary. I've noticed that the more afraid I am in general, the more fear foods I have. I did eat twice on Saturday though, so I feel pretty good about that. Today I haven't eaten yet, and it is past noon. Nothing sounds good, which I know isn't a valid excuse, but it feels like such an enormous effort to go into the kitchen and figure something out.

Well, that is all for now. I'm not going to stress myself out about whether I can eat or not. It feels like too much on my plate for now, no pun intended:)

*Update*

I had some cereal with yogurt late in the afternoon. I'm really struggling with it though. I know it is my way of coping with the anxiety that I'm feeling about this week. I'm going to call my therapist for some support in the morning. She is my voice of reason, and can usually calm my nerves. I'm going to make sure that my recovery team knows that I need more support right now.

Good Enough

Summer vacation is officially over for me. I started back to work today, and it was already stressful. My placement usually changes every year, and this year wasn't any different, but I was hoping that I could stay put. Last year, I was in a junior high autism classroom, but this year, they have moved me into two early childhood autism classrooms. I'm not a big fan of the little people:-D I have always really liked the older kids. There are pros and cons. The pros are that I won't get beat up as much, and when I do, it will hurt less. The cons are that I have to start over again with new people, and change is scary. I will miss the staff at my old school. I'm trying to have a positive attitude though. I talked with my supervisor, and told her that I wasn't all that comfortable working with the little people, and she said to try it for a few weeks, and if I still thought that it wasn't for me, then they would look for a new placement for me. I was proud of myself for speaking up, and letting my feelings be heard. That is something new! Another con is that I will be traveling between schools during lunch, which will make it very easy for me to skip that meal. That is really nothing new, but if I want to have my head in recovery, then that is not a good thing. The eating disorder is jumping up and down over the whole thing, and hasn't shut up about it all day. If I want to keep up with the little people though, I will have to eat more than I'm consuming at the moment. The past few weeks have not been good when it comes to food, and my body is feeling it. I'm lethargic, light headed, and shaky during the day. I do eat dinner, if that wins me any brownie points. I know that isn't good enough, and I do want to be better than "good enough."

It's All An Illusion

"I miss my thin body," I say to my husband. "I love your body," he insists. "I didn't like it when you were skin and bones." I miss my thin body" I say to my therapist. "What do you miss about it?" she replies. I thought for a minute, and then I said, " I miss feeling strong, like I was invincible, and no one could touch or hurt me." Now I feel as if I cannot be contained. I'm spilling out all over the place...my body, my emotions, all of me is here for the world to see. Ahhh, I miss the illusion of invisibility. Yes, I realize it was a illusion, but I long for it just the same. I feel everything so intensely, and all of the emotions seem overwhelming at times, so right now, I'm trying to squash them. It is a conscious choice that I'm making everyday when I decide not to follow any resemblance of a meal plan. "You really weren't very strong in your thin body," my therapist firmly reminds me. "A small child could have knocked you on your ass." I laugh nervously, and agree that this is true. I laugh until tears sting my eyes, and begin running down my face. I duck my head in shame, angrily wiping my face with my hands. "Why the tears?" my therapist says. "Because I'm afraid that I'm going to be eternally at war with my mind and my body," I reply. "I'm so tired," I cry. "I'm so very, very tired."

A Handful Of Cereal

Yesterday I wandered through the grocery store alone. Often times, Dave goes with me, and shopping is quite different on my own. I meander slowly up and down the isles, looking at food, pondering what to get. I have no problem getting the foods that my family likes, but I hesitate to get what I like. Yesterday was different, and it wasn't a big deal, except that I picked out a cereal that I wanted to try. Why is that a milestone? Well, I rarely eat breakfast. I have a dozen excuses for why this is, but I actually thought about breaking my rule. This morning when I woke up though, my first reaction was, no way! I watched Dave eat the cereal instead, and was so frustrated with myself.

I had an appointment with my nutritionist today, and we talked about why I'm restricting. I tried to convince her that I only needed to eat once a day, and that I was functioning just fine, thank you very much! Then she started to ask me about symptoms, such as dizziness, being light headed, shakiness, and being cold all of the time. The problem is that I've adjusted to those symptoms, and I'm used to compensating for them. I told her about the cereal, and we tried to come up with some ways that I could ease myself into eating it, like eating just a handful dry, while standing up. That sounds doable. Sitting down while eating poses more of a problem because then I have to connect with the food and the thought that I'm eating it. We talked about the eating disorder being my shield, and how scary the thought of being without my force field is. Being foggy with symptoms keeps me from totally connecting with the world, and for me, that feels safe. I want to be the best me that I can be. I really do want that, so I'm determined to slowly lower my shield, bit by bit. It is going to have to start with a handful of cereal.

I've Learned From The Best

I remember as a child wondering if everyone hurt as much as I did. It wasn't that I had such an unhappy childhood, it was that I took on the sorrow of others. The pain was palpable, throbbing around me, and I absorbed it all, as if it were my own. I was deeply attached to my mother, watching her every move, and aware of every change of mood. My father would come sweeping in brimming with charm, or was thankfully absent. My mother was either playful and attentive or somewhat distant and sleepy. The sure signs of a deep depression that I have come to recognize in myself. She wanted nothing more than to have a family unlike the one in which she had grown up. In and out of foster homes, with an abusive father, and a mother who had abandoned her and her siblings, she longed for safety and stability. She found herself in a marriage that was filled with infidelity and loneliness. When my father became involved with drugs, and began to bring them into the house, she wanted out. She feared for our safety. I don't know how she found the strength to leave. She didn't drive, and hadn't worked outside the home in years. She didn't have more than a high school education. I remember the morning she told my brother and I that they were getting a divorce, as I lay on the shag carpet, crayons lined up above my coloring book. It was a strange relief of sorts, although I didn't fully understand. I felt my mother's resolve that this was the right decision for all of us, and it was. It was an abrupt change of lifestyle; from private to public schools, and checkbooks to food stamps, but we had each other. It's been an adventure, just as she said it would be, and throughout the struggles, I've had much joy. I think of how far we've come, the obstacles, the wonderful interventions, like my step dad, who changed our lives, and I see how amazing and good life can be. I see my life now, stumbling over the trauma, picking myself up, and fighting to survive. I've learned from the best.

Forgetting

Forgetting

"Don't forget me," I tell you

"Don't forget me"

Don't leave me waiting in the wind

Don't forget my face

that wavers, growing faint

until I'm but a shadow

in a corner of your mind

Store me away in a tiny compartment

away from the rest of your life

tucked into a box that you

will never allow yourself to pull out

or perhaps you will lift the corners

peering cautiously inside

Maybe all that will be left of me

is shame and guilt

A deep throb in the back of your throat

as you swallow hard; as you close your eyes

Yes, I'm growing dark.

For awhile I'll be the shimmer of a dream

in which you awaken drenched in a cold sweat

afraid of the risk you took

Oh, sadly my smile will fade

into a bittersweet memory

disappearing within the distance of time

Angela Minard 2010©

Compliments

Check out this website~ http://operationbeautiful.com/

Who doesn't like receiving compliments? I like them, although I always feel awkward when accepting them. My husband teases me about it. Whenever he called me beautiful or pretty, I would roll my eyes and shake my head. I had to practice on him and learn how to accept the compliment by simply saying thank you. I believe he means what he says, but accepting a compliment has everything to do with how much you believe in yourself, and when you feel negatively about yourself, you tend to discount the compliment. I'm working on this, and my goal is to begin to give myself positive messages every day. I may not believe them at first, but I'm hoping that eventually they will stick, just like the negative messages have played over and over in my head for years. I know that this will take time, but I'm going to give it my best effort.

Fine

"I'm fine," I say. Fine, fine, fine, when the truth is that almost always, when I say that, I'm not fine at all. Why do I lie? Well...it's because I'm afraid of the sadness, pain, and anger that I feel, and I'm so used to swallowing those feelings that it is my automatic response. I swallow my feelings instead of swallowing food. I push the emotions away, and by doing this, I also end up pushing people away. I fear that because my feelings overwhelm me, they will also overwhelm everyone else. This fear keeps me from accepting help when it is offered, and my self worth prevents me from being motivated to help myself. I need to try to feel safe enough to reach out for the hands that are offered to me. I need to believe that I'm worth caring for. Maybe I need to do it for others and hope that eventually I will see that I'm worth it.

Fucked Up

Insecure

Neurotic

Emotional

Yep, that's me alright:)

All That Remains

All That Remains

What has been revealed
is now too late to conceal
Can't take back
what has been given
Rebuild the walls
lock the doors
cover them with vines
to hide behind
Blinded by the whisper of words
now lost in your silence
Drowning in smiles
staring through vacant eyes
the mask of my days
A fading image is all that remains

Angela Minard 2010©