Release

I made an appointment for an extra therapy session this week. I'm honestly not sure why, when I don't think that I can talk. The words feel stuck somewhere between my chest and my throat...as if I could literally choke on them. Maybe that is why I feel the need to get it out, if I can. I've been having vivid dreams of my abuse, and I want to tell my therapist about them, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid that it will rip me apart inside. Haven't I cried enough tears over it? How many more can there be? Pulling away from everyone, muting my voice, and numbing out with the eating disorder all make me feel protected. Nothing can hurt me if I put up my walls to keep all of the pain away. My therapist is always telling me that if I don't feel the pain, then I can't feel the joy, but I'm not sure that I believe that is true, or maybe, as sad as this sounds, I don't think the intense joy is worth the pain. I don't know. I still smile, I can still laugh out loud. I love to watch my boys, and find humor in their conversations and antics. I don't think anyone looking at me sees how lifeless, sad, and scared that I feel, or at least I hope that they don't. Covering up my feelings also makes me feel safe, even from the people that I love. The years of silence still have me in a death grip, and I know that only I can release it's hold on me.

You Can't See Me

The cursor blinks at me, and I'm almost hypnotised by the vertical black line. The words type themselves. Silently you read them, and form the sentences in your mind, and you become a part of my mind. You are now part of me. This box is my voice when I cannot speak. Hunched over the keys, my fingers fly, then falter, hovering above the letters, whispering inside of my head. Yes...this is what I want to say, and yet there is so much more. "You have to get it out," she says. "I know," I say, or do I even talk aloud. I cannot remember now. I mostly nod, although I know that she can't see me. You can't see me either.

I'm Still Here

I'm Still Here

Inside this empty atmosphere
where the silence shatters
with each shard of glass
cutting the flesh
laid open and raw
Floating above
detached and emotionless
dissecting the wounds
Secret scars
hidden behind a smile
so quiet and still
Afraid to take a breath
or make a sound
Can you hear me?
I'm still here.

Angela Minard 2010©

Gravity

I'm feeling far away, lost, and very disconnected. My husband said to me this morning, "You're shutting down, please talk to me," but there are no words that I'm able to form. They are only bubbles popping in my head before they can be released...beyond my grasp. Everything seems to be beyond my reach...slipping away. I'm slipping farther and farther away from myself, and everyone else. It is a soft place to rest, and sleep has been a welcomed escape from the dull ache in my chest. "Just do one thing different," I hear over and over again in my mind. That must be the answer I think to myself, though I'm sinking deeply into quick sand. I feel at once heavy and so very light and small. Only the weight of gravity keeps me here.

This Day

This Day

It is the empty days like this

when nothing happens

that I realize everything

that has happened

the blood of an unending night

with the moon a mere transclucent sliver

following behind like the shadow of a stranger

there are holes in my memory

mended lovingly with stories told

over and over again

until I can almost see them

and they become my own

and yet there are always the intruders

invading the innocence of what once existed

in the very part of my soul

where laughter once overflowed

I can still see the past

Only now I can stand

in this very moment

while the world hums

turning the nothingness of this day

into everything

Angela Minard 2010©

Shades Of Grey

It is all or nothing, black or white, love or hate, without the shades of grey in between. That is how I tend to look at the world. I'm confused by anything else, therefore my thoughts and feelings are often irrational, and don't make much sense to other people. I get so caught up in the frenzy of my own mind, that I can't slow down and look at what is right in front of me. Everything that I need is already inside of me if I could get out of my own way long enough for me to see it. Today has been one of those days when I over think things. Actually, most days I over think things! I have to keep reminding myself to slow down. It is so hard for me to live in the moment. I'm so busy worrying about what happened yesterday, and what is going to happen tomorrow. I had some missteps with food and behaviors over the weekend, but I had some good moments also. It is difficult because I expect to do recovery perfectly. Screwing up means I'm a bad person, or that is what my black and white thinking would have me believe. I'm trying to cut myself some slack, but it is certainly rough going. I need to start living in the shades of grey.

Hunger Hurts

"Hunger hurts and I want him so bad,
oh, it kills 'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts but starvin' works when it costs too much to love."
~Paper Bag by Fiona Apple

I've been asking myself what this eating disorder is costing me, and though I don't want to admit that it affects my relationships with people, it does. It is the barrier that I put between myself and the people that I care most about. I think that if I don't fully engage, I won't get hurt when I'm left behind, but the truth is that I make people go away.

Look To The Sky

Look To The Sky

Impenetrable

A solid shiny steel cage

enclosed within

Vast and high

I raise my eyes

and feel so small

There are no foot holds

on which to climb

Trapped inside

I slip and slide

now too tired to try

My voice is lost

bouncing against the cold metal walls

an echo in the darkness

My frozen breath hangs in the stillness

of this doorless cave

which has swallowed me whole

Angela Minard 2010©

Chaos

"You need chaos in the soul to give birth to a dancing star." ~Friedrich Nietzsche

I'm thinking that I have so much inner chaos that it isn't even funny! I should soon be dancing:)
I'm feeling some much needed strength and determination in the past few days. My therapist told me last week to just do one thing different in my life, and see how that can change things. I'm trying to slow down, and challenge the negative thoughts in my mind. The messages that I'm continually giving myself have never been positive ones. I beat myself up so much that I can't see any of my gifts clearly. We all have gifts, which I can recognize in others, so why not myself? I received a very nice compliment today, and the first thing that I thought was how can that person see what they see, when I cannot see it? My mom always tells me, "I wish you could see in yourself what I see." I wish that too. I have a negatively distorted sense of self, and I realize that this is one of the things that I really want to change. It is going to take a lot of retraining my brain, but I need to start caring for and about myself. Yes, part of that means nourishing my body, and realizing that it is alright to have needs, food being one of them. I'm willing, if anything, to allow myself to take up space in this world.

A Challenging Weekend

I've finally made it to Friday. It has felt like a really long week at work. I'm still getting hit on a regular basis, which isn't fun, but I'm determined not to let this kid bully me into getting his way, and escaping from the demands placed upon him. I'm definitely ready for this weekend. I'm planning on going out to lunch with a friend on Saturday. I'm looking forward to seeing her, but not the lunch part. I'm used to sticking with my protein bar in the afternoon, so stepping outside of that right now is going to be hard, but I'm going to do it anyway. I think the more difficult part will be not restricting the rest of the day. Yesterday I did eat three times. It wasn't much, but for me, just breaking the rule in my head is important. I'm trying to take my recovery from this relapse day by day, and not get overwhelmed by how far I have to go. I'm going to try to keep on challenging the eating disorder, and even though it brings up feelings of failure, I'm going to work on pushing through those. Wishing everyone a wonderful weekend:)

Holding On

Holding On

Your eyes are soft and sorry
still it hurts to look at you
In my mind I step backward
never predicting the cost
or the toll it would take
on my heart
which skips a beat
my breath caught in my throat
Holding on to what is left
yet trying to forget what was
and the possibilities of what could be

Angela Minard 2010©

An Empty Shell

It seems like most of the time I feel like a scared little girl walking around in some strange womens body. It's like I'm a foreigner in my own skin, disconnected to who I am. I'm on the outside looking in, and I don't really like what I see. I'm tired of feeling shell shocked and afraid. There have been many times in therapy when my therapist will hug me at the end of our session, and she will note that I'm shaking. I literally shake with fear over some of the things that we talk about, and most of the time, I don't even realize it. There is this underlying panic inside that I think I'm used to living with. I had a moment of fear with a student today which triggered a brief flashback, and I freaked out a little bit. I hate when my past interferes with my present, or when it affects my job. It was the feeling of being trapped and alone in a situation. I was able to get some help, but that always somehow makes me feel weak and incompetent. I always think that I should be able to handle things on my own. I was grateful for the help though. I need more help with the things that I'm struggling with lately, which is mostly food, but I'm not sure how to go about getting it. I don't know what I need exactly, besides to just eat. It sounds so simple, doesn't it, but in my mind, everything gets so jumbled that I don't even know where to begin. It is taking that first step which is always the hardest. My goal is just to eat three times tomorrow, even if it is only something small each time. It will break one of my rules, and hopefully each day it will get easier. Goals are good, and something that I haven't had in awhile. I kind of feel like this is my last chance, and that if I don't do it now, I'm never going to be able to do it. This is me saying that I refuse to live the rest of my life in an empty shell.

I Can Still Smile

I'm filled with words that I spill out onto this blog. Yes, I know that I have readers that come here. I wonder why it is that they continue to return. Is it like the car wreck on the side of the road that you can't quite look away from? It touches me that people care. I know that there are people out there that can identify with what I'm going through. Do we feed off of each other's pain? I don't think so, although there are those who would disagree. When I was in treatment with other women and girls who were fighting their eating disorders, it was comforting to not feel so alone. I learned from them. In many ways , I miss treatment. When I was there, I had no choice but to eat. Eat or be isolated, with no privileges. Of course, I tried that route, but it was wasted time getting better, and I did want to get better. I still do, but I don't know if I can do it on my own without the 24/7 monitoring of a treatment center. I feel ashamed to admit this. I just wasn't there long enough to get a hold on this. Damn insurance. Once your weight restored, they kick you out, when really it has nothing to do with the weight. I cannot seem to hold myself accountable, and my treatment team can't be there to hold my hand through every meal.
Yesterday I cried through a bowl of cereal that I could not manage to finish. I'm struggling to eat with my family. I'm sliding backwards day by day when it comes to food, and I don't feel like I even know how to eat anymore. It is like a foreign activity, which kind of makes me laugh. I know it's not really funny, but sometimes I still have to find some humor in the mess of my life. I can still smile.

Sometimes I wonder...did it do any good to tell? All it did was bring everything to the surface, and it caused pain for other people besides me. It mostly hurt my mother, and brought her tremendous pain and guilt, none of which I would have wished on her. I stuffed everything for so long, and maybe it should have stayed buried. What have I done? I hate this. I wish that I could undo everything, but I can't. So here I am, at a loss as to how to fix everything.

I've come to realize that I think I know why I drink sometimes. It is because it makes me talk. I can let out my most agonizing feelings, and I do it without censoring myself. I can cry, and release emotions that otherwise I'm too self conscious to do. It's not the best way, but it is a way, none the less. I still need to find my true voice, without being destructive to do it. I did open up to my husband, and was able to tell him some of my feelings and fears. He is always here for me. I don't know why I hold back with him, when his love has always been unconditional. I'm afraid of disappointing him. I do feel like some of the wall has been broken down, and that is a relief. It is a start at least.

Not Scared Enough

You would think that summer would be the hardest time of year for me. I was raped the summer that I was eleven, and though it is hard, autumn and winter are the worst. I remember going back to school, the smells in the air, the feel of the wind, and trying to forget. This time of year brings back the pain of holding it all inside. It brings back the fear that everyone would discover my secret and be disgusted when they looked at me. I can still feel the filth crawling on my skin, and I wish more than anything, that I was not here. I want to close my eyes and be able to disappear. It's not that I'm necessarily suicidal, although both attempts have been in the winter, and my eating dwindles down to nothing. Maybe I only want to escape from being me, and of knowing that people will hurt you. I don't want to remember. Both of my attempts were meant to obliterate the memories, and at the time, I didn't contemplate the finality of death. I still don't. Most of the time I choose to forget that I'm slowly killing myself, and my health is failing. I ignore the osteoporosis, the skipped heartbeats, and my screwed up digestive system. My therapist tried to scare me today, and the tough love hurts and makes me angry at the same time. How dare she care, and make me feel guilty for hurting those who love me. I get mad at everyone around me, and for what? For loving me when I can't love myself? It all sounds so easy when everyone tells me that I need to take care of myself. Just eat...it is only food...go to the kitchen, try not to think about it, and do it. My therapist said that she thinks her words roll off of me like teflon. I hear them, but I can't find enough energy to put them into action. To say I'm tired is an understatement. To say I don't really care is the truth. I scare myself a little, but not enough. Not enough to find the strength to take care of me.

Let It Go

I'm eating. Some. Enough to keep me going, and that is the best that I can do for now I tell myself, although I know better. I could improve upon my intake, and I'm not really sure what it is that is stopping me, besides fear. There is the fear of hurting, and feeling emotions that I push down, pretending that I'm fine. I can work through it okay, but then I walk through the door of my house, and I feel drained and exhausted. I have nothing left to give, the numbness takes over, and I welcome it. It is a safe place in what otherwise would be the chaos in my head. Thinking of what I will and won't eat takes up all of that space. It distracts me from any other feelings. I know things are getting bad when I don't call my parents during the weekend. When I'm good, I call. I feel the need to protect everyone from my sadness. I tend to isolate from family and friends as much as possible, and who wants to be around me anyway. The thing is that I'm so good at covering up how I'm feeling. I put on my happy face, and go about my business, hoping that no one will notice. Maybe I need a med increase, although upping my dose tends to make me jittery. Yeah, I know... I need to eat.

My anxiety over work is lifting. It has been better this week, and maybe the child that I'm working with needed to adjust to me. At least I haven't been hit this week. I just have to let it go, and let what happens happen. I've been moved around enough this year. I don't want to move again, and I'm determined to look at this placement as a challenge. Yeah, it's a tough kid, but I've had tough kids before. I have to believe in myself, and believe that I can handle it. Wow, that was a positive. Go me:)!!! If only I can learn to take things as they come, I think I would find that I'm stronger than I think I am.

Save Me

Save Me

Another morning twisted in sheets

always running to nowhere, it seems

The road stretching endlessly

before and behind

with curves thrown in

and I'm unprepared

Limbs flailing

fingers clawing for solid ground

Reaching and searching

My eyes frantically scan the horizon

hoping for a glimpse of you

before drowning in this sea of goulish faces

their hollow laughter echoing in my ears

Begging for a savior

I lift my tattered voice to the wind

Angela Minard 2010©

Not Lost, Just Wandering

"You can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable, and life's like an hourglass glued to the table. No one can find the rewind button, girl, so cradle your head in your hands, and breathe, just breathe."

~Anna Nalick

Yesterday turned out to be a better day than I thought it would be. At least I didn't get hit, only swung at a few times. I know that working with me is an adjustment for this child, and that transitioning is hard for those with autism. I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, and hope that the aggression will subside some after he gets used to me. The only problem is that I know that he was highly aggressive prior to my arrival. I don't believe that he should be in a classroom where other children especially could get hurt. Since I've been with him, he has already struck another child in the stomach, leaving a red mark, and we had to write a note to his parents. This is not okay in my opinion, but of course, my opinion doesn't really matter much. My supervisor told me to take it as a compliment that they give me some of the hardest kids, but a lot of good that will do me if I end up getting seriously injured. Oh well...enough complaining about my job! Let's see...what else can I complain about?;-)

Last night I had some seriously frightening dreams that I was hospitalized yet again. It was horrible, and I woke up feeling very afraid. I don't want to go down that road. I think that I have it together, you know? I can control the eating disorder, but not the depression. The depression takes hold with it's ugly grip, and I feel powerless, but right now, for all that I'm going through, I'm not really depressed. I'm more anxious than anything. I had a panic attack the day before yesterday while I was in my car, and it wasn't pretty, because I'm out of medication. I hadn't had one in a long time, so I didn't refill it. I know that I will get through this. It is just another difficult blip in my life. I've been through much worse, and here I still am. Maybe I'm not lost, just wandering.

Dreading Work Today

I'm sitting here dreading going to work right now. Yesterday I was working with a student who was repeatedly attempting to hit me, and finally connected, hitting me in the side of my ribcage, and knocking the air out of me. I've never been hit so hard before, and it left me pretty shook up. I left school near tears, thinking, "oh my God, I can't do this." I can't be beat up every day. I'm primarily left alone with this student, so the majority of the time, I don't have any back up or help, and he is a fairly large, overweight kid, with a powerful punch. This year has just gone from bad to worse, and I'm so frustrated and stressed. Yesterday, all I could manage to eat was a small amount of salad in the evening. My stomach is tied in knots all of the time. Anyway...I just needed to vent. I have to get ready to do combat.

Sick and Twisted

I feel lost, and as if I don't even know in which direction that I want to go in. I'm stuck in a destructive pattern of making one bad mistake after another, and for those, I want to punish myself. I soothe myself by doing the one thing that I know I'm good at, and that is going hungry. My therapist told me today that I need to prove to myself that I can eat even when I'm anxious and under stress, but that is just the last thing that I want to do. I guess I really want to prove that I can still starve myself, and I know how sick and twisted that sounds. It has always been my way of feeling like everything is in control when inside I feel so out of control. I don't have any idea of what I'm going to do to fix this, and the sad thing is that I don't know if I want to anymore. Staying here feels safe, or at least safer than jumping off the cliff into the unknown. I want to believe that I won't get too sick. I will be able to stop when I'm thinner. When I'm thinner, everything will be alright.