Always, I Rise

 

Artwork by~ Masaaki Sasomoto

At the height of my eating disorder, when I was entrenched in anorexic behaviors, I also held a full time job working with children with autism and other developmental disabilities. The only time it affected my work was when I took a leave of absence to go into treatment. I have missed work at times for mental health days, and I think that almost everyone at some time in their work history has done that. I would rather take a day for self care than to be sub par at my work. For many people struggling with mental health, routines are a huge part of maintaining normalcy and stability. These days of having extra time on my hands not teaching at the studio have thrown off my routine. I miss the structure, but have found myself feeling more creative, and exploring new ideas. I don’t often embrace change, but it may be time to take more chances, and move out of my comfort zone a bit. I’ve been working on publishing a few volumes of poetry, as well as a memoir, while also finishing up my 300 hr. yoga training. Teaching yoga is still deeply nourishing, and there is always so much to continue learning, which keeps me engaged. I wouldn’t wish having a mental illness on anyone, but working through the challenges and taking steps toward healing is an accomplishment I’m proud to continue. Sometimes I get discouraged, but when I look back on all I’ve been through, these 12 years of overcoming anorexia, and climbing my way through the muck of trauma has been but a drop in the bucket of my 55 years on earth. Even though I have no idea what the future holds, I continue to move forward, often stumbling, but always, I rise. 

The Lie Of Perfection

Each fold and sharp crease between thumbnail and stark white paper

hisses with outrage

refined angles

cutting remarks behind a simpering smile

shooting baskets with the misshapen wads

aim and miss

each paper crane is formed from everything she was told she lacked

her many failures bent into the correct aesthetic shape

forced to acquiesce 

throbbing fingers crimp and tuck

seething warmth rising with each crumpled mistake

these messy pages tell her battled tale...

-the lie of perfection

Angela Minard© 

Artwork by Duy Huynh

Don’t Forget

The me that started this blog over twelve years ago is long gone, although the strength and wisdom was centered deep inside, it took some digging to discover. Starting this blog was also the beginning of healing from sexual trauma and anorexia, although at times it felt as if all of that digging may bury me.
A couple of times it almost did...
I’m not sure why I’m here, writing I mean...
I was driving home from teaching my Monday evening yoga classes, and my mind was wandering as I watched the first snowfall of the season...wandering to the past, and I thought about the pain that I poured out on this blog. Healing is a gift I finally allowed myself. Yoga gave me the gift of embodiment, and I’m grateful that I can pay that gift forward. I rarely visit the past anymore, but when I do it’s from a more forgiving place. I’m not perfect and life is never perfect, but I’m good...life is good. I doubt anyone reads these words, but if you found your way here, take this poem as my gift to you...

Where there is an ache
joy awaits
buried beneath nutrient rich soil
the throbbing heart
the homesickness
the want
is a reminder of what holds you
Here
Right here
Don’t forget...

Angela Minard©

Eating Disorder Recovery Update

I wanted to share some of what I'm going through lately while continuing to recover from an eating disorder. The lack of much physical activity in these past couple of months has been triggering. I'm losing muscle tone, and although I don't know exactly what my weight is, I do know what it feels like it's doing. I recognize that I may not be accurate in my assessment, nevertheless I'm not acting on behaviors. My appetite has decreased along with my energy output, but I'm still working hard to adequately nourish my body. I have nausea due to some of the medications I'm temporarily on, so I need to keep something in my stomach.  It is challenging, and the eating disorder is loud. I still struggle with negative body image, but I'm not allowing any of that to cause me to restrict. I want to be strong after surgery, and using behaviors will not help with recovery. I want to get back to teaching yoga as soon as I can. I'm practicing lots of self care, and taking time to do things that also nourish my soul, such as writing, reading, and cultivating a more consistent meditation practice. This may be a small road block, but I actually do believe in myself. I would like to be completely recovered from anorexia, but if that never happens, I will never give up. I will come out even stronger, I have no doubt!

No More

There is nothing in life that is certain, but most of the time our days flow in a predictable pattern, and that routine is comforting. 

Right now I feel as if I decided to climb into a rain barrel and allowed someone to push me from the edge of Niagara Falls. 

I made the choice to quit a job I had been at for a long time, I brought a puppy into our home, a couple of the boys moved out, and then one moved back in and brought their cat, I'm starting a new job, and I just sprained my foot on my third day at said new job! We need to sell our house, which will be another big change, and none of this is routine. Even good changes can be frightening, and so I find myself slipping into eating disordered behaviors. Relapse is part of recovery, but I thought I was past relapsing. It is difficult not to be disappointed in myself, especially when I'm working in a recovery facility. Beating up on myself is not helpful, and actually gives the eating disorder more power. Silence gives it power as well, and more than anything, I'm trying to let go of shame. 

I have been going through an intense trauma training in order to work in a psychiatric facility, but the training is bringing up my own trauma, which is painful. It makes me doubt myself, and if I have chosen the right path. I feel passionate about teaching yoga as a powerful tool for healing. I know I can help people, but I have to find a way to seperate from my pain while doing this job, otherwise I'm going to be in a world of hurt. 

I have had to slow down while trying to heal my foot, but that gives me more time with myself, more time to ruminate, and so here I am, writing through all of it.

Deep down, I know I can do this, and that everything will work out the way it is meant to happen. I have not arrived in this exact place without a reason. If I expect myself to be perfect, I most certainly will fail. If I believe that others expect perfection, I will also fail. I may tumble all of the way down, beaten and bruised, but smooth waters await if I can have faith and patience through this journey. I can only be honest with myself and others. I don't want to feel alone, and silence is a lonely place to live. It is okay to be exactly where I am, but if I keep it to myself, and hide my struggles, no one can help me. If I've learned anything through this recovery of self, it is that asking for help is crucial for healing to occur. I have so many more tools other than an eating disorder to fall back on, and this blog is one of them. I stopped writing because I was afraid to be honest, and afraid of letting people down. 

No more...

Venus

Venus

I can't speak anymore

of truth

of pain

without my heart lurching 
into the hollow cave 
of my throat

I hear the reverberating echo

of hate

the bitter taste of poison 

on my lips

seething anger fills my belly

You talk and talk and talk

about nothing

while we all 

go hungry

Angela Minard 2016©

Artwork by annadittmann.tumblr.com

Deserving Pain

I have been in pain for weeks, clenching my jaw through yoga practices, and doing the opposite of what I tell my students to do, which is to listen to and honor their bodies. It isn't the first time I have pushed through pain. Emotionally and physically, it is how I lived for a very long time. Although recovered from anorexia, the toll it took on my body has left my bones and joints weak from osteoporosis. I developed osteoarthritis specifically in my hip joints, and eventually they will both need to be replaced. I manage the pain with medication, but occasionally need steroid injections to decrease the inflammation. I have been teaching a lot of classes, and physically exhausting myself. The added pain is wearing me down. I went in to see the orthopedic surgeon, and the nurse took my temperature. I had a fever of 101.8. I have no idea why. I don't have a cold or anything. I just feel exhausted. I love teaching yoga, but it is difficult when you don't feel well. I'm feeling down today because I couldn't get the injection with a fever. I started to beat myself up with negative self talk, as if the anorexia was a choice, and I brought this all on myself. I know better, but I went there for awhile. Eating disorders are mental illnesses, and not a choice. I don't deserve to be in pain, and I worked hard to get where I am today. I gave myself a pep talk, and I know it will all work itself out as long as I don't allow myself to be defeated by my own mind. Impeccable self care is needed, along with compassion and patience. All of those are a challenge for me, but I can do it! 

Illuminated

The main reason that I started writing this blog was to sort out my thoughts and emotions throughout my recovery process. The reasons that I continue are not only for those same reasons, but also because I have learned that it is important to myself and others, to be vulnerable. I am as honest as I can be here, because we all share some of the same hopes, fears, and basic human tendencies. When I realized I wasn't alone, the world was not nearly as frightening. I'm recovered from anorexia, but that certainly doesn't mean that I don't still struggle with my body image. I do. I'm in the public eye every day as a yoga teacher, and I'm not the hard bodied, lean yoga teacher. I'm the short, curvy yoga teacher, with extra bits here and there, and most days, that is okay. It never matters once I step my feet on my yoga mat because for fuck's sake, it doesn't matter! The days that it does matter, I need to take a few steps back, and ask myself why. It is never about my weight. It is usually about avoiding a feeling, or a myriad of feelings, which brings me to this...

My sweet friend Monica, www.illuminatespirit.com is someone I met at Darling Yoga. She is a massage therapist, yogi, and amazing photographer. She asked if she could take some yoga photographs of me, and I froze! I admire her work, the photographs she has taken of our friends are beautiful, but I wasn't sure about the idea for me personally. It is not that I think I'm ugly. I take a selfie here and there, but I'm the one in control. I can delete, and I never take body shots. That is sad, isn't it?! I avoid the mirror at all costs in the studio. When I'm moving through my practice, I feel beautiful. Flowing with the rhythm of my breath is like dancing with the most graceful partner who anticipates your every move. It is never wrong. It is yoga...union...

Monica is such a sweet, and gentle soul, but I was nervous. I barely remember the ride to our location, and still don't know where we went. It was a beautiful fall day, with a touch of crispness to the air. I was giddy and flighty, but as soon as I would settle into a posture and breathe, it was yoga; my home, where I am safe. We laughed together, and I do remember that the location had huge houses that looked like English mansions. It was more fun than I thought it would be, but then the fear of actually seeing the finished product was terrifying! I know only too well how critical I am of every perceived flaw. I am strong in my recovery, but I still remember...

I am fearful of anything shaking my foundation, and what if I was disgusted by my extra bits? What if it sent me into starvation mode? What if I disappointed Monica by not being happy with her photographs? Every time she would see me, she would reassure me. 

"You need to see what we all see when you practice. You are beautiful." 

Last weekend, she texted me to let me know she had sent me the link to her website to look at the photographs. A half hour later she texted me back, wondering, but I hadn't looked. I was scared! I went to the studio to practice, and she was there after class with her laptop. Beaming, she said, "This one is my favorite!" It also happened to be my favorite pose. Eka Pada Raja Kapotasana~Mermaid pose. I remember the light, the trees, and how the breeze felt on my skin. It was beautiful because I felt beautiful. Again, it had nothing to do with what I looked like, but how I felt. It was exactly like what I'm always telling my students. "Feel the pose from the inside out, because that is when you know." When you allow yourself to feel, you know everything! 

Thank you Monica, for the gift of knowing, and for making it comfortable, sweet, and painless. I love you. 

How Long is Forever?

I wrote my first blog post June 13th, 2007. This blog was private, a personal diary, with only my words...

This is what I wrote~ 

"I'm so very tired right now. 

Tired of running. 

Tired of hiding. 

I simply want peace, 

but how? 

I want to take back something that I never realized until now, 

has always been mine. 

My body, 

My soul, 

My life..." 

I'm not sure I even knew exactly what that meant, or the work it would entail. I only knew how desperately I wanted to be free from the eating disorder.  

I went into treatment five months later. 

"I'm in a scary place right now, and more afraid then I have ever been. I can't eat. I tried so hard last night-a few bites of fish...

I cried over the first bite of a granola bar this morning, and after 5 hours, I give up. 

I don't know how to ask for help. I don't want to put my husband in the position of monitoring my food. I can't be accountable to myself at this point, and I know I need a safe place to work through the food issues, where I can't engage in harmful behaviors, and use starving to cope. I need to re-learn how to eat, but I know if I can't do that on my own, I will eventually die."

Maybe I should die...

I look back on that with no memory, 

only that I was desperate. 

I wanted to live. 

I can see that from my words,

 but I do not remember. 

Maybe I do not want to remember....

but, I do...

remember....

Giving and Receiving

I want to follow up on my "Friendships and Loss" post, because although that loss was painful, and occasionally stings, I do not dwell on it any longer. In the past few years I have developed a circle of friends who rally around me, love me unconditionally, and continually make me laugh to the point of aching cheeks and throbbing belly. It was difficult to have relationships with people when anorexia was my constant companion, so I didn't have many friends. I know it was confusing and painful for anyone close to watch me struggling, and I lost a couple of friends in the process. Friendships, and relationships in general are important to me, and maybe because I spent so many years building walls, I crave true connection. I feel loved because I allow myself to feel love. I'm hugged so many times a day that I lose count. How great is that?! Working in a yoga studio definitely doesn't hurt. Those yogis are huggers! They also tell you that they love you, and they mean it. I'm in a very loving environment daily, and that has fed my starving soul. On my birthday, my friends took me out for meals, they sent me videos singing me "Happy Birthday," they gave me sweet, hand written cards, thoughtful gifts, and my feet were rubbed during savasana! This year I embraced it all because life is too fragile not to allow yourself to receive such beautiful gifts. It is only through loss, I suppose, that you can truly appreciate the abundance of love and life that surrounds you. Fearing loss is my nemesis, and my fear often gets in the way of appreciating what is right in front of me. I am blessed with so many people whom I love, and I feel such true caring and love in return. As much as my feelings can overwhelm me, even the good feelings, I'm learning how to receive. The quote below is so powerful because all of my life, although I felt I was a giving person, I was not. I could never ask for help. I found it weak, and shameful. I never wanted to seem needy, and so often my needs were not met. 

I'm learning...always.

"Until we can receive with an open heart, we're never really giving with an open heart.

When we attach judgment to receiving help, 

we knowingly or unknowingly attach judgment to giving help."

 ~Brene' Brown

Like the Lotus Flower

They say that the most stunning flower of all, the lotus, grows in the filthiest part of the pond, feeding on its filth to produce its beauty. My therapist also likes to say that strength comes from falling face down, sucking mud, and still being able to rise up and move forward.  I try to remember this when the pain and shame cause me to feel dirty and flawed. I work through it every day, and some days are easier than others, but I am healing and creating beauty through the practice of yoga. There are still days when I put on my yoga clothes, which are not forgiving, by the way, and I look into the mirror, and I don't love what I see. Some days I even think about staying home and hiding instead of walking into a class full of people, where I'm exposed. Recovery is like that. I'm not this women who recovered perfectly from anorexia, and never looks back. I would like to be, but then again, each time I look back, I learn something new about why I sometimes fall into disordered thoughts or behaviors. It is never about weight, or food, or appearance, but what else I'm trying to control or avoid. During those moments in the mirror, when I'm struggling with the bitch in my head, who I know very well is me, I still walk out the door and go to the studio, and I get on my mat. As soon as I center myself, feeling the solid foundation of the earth beneath me, all of that crap falls away. I never feel more beautiful than when I'm flowing with my breath, and it has absolutely nothing to do with what I look like or if the postures are all in perfect alignment. I often tell my students to first feel the posture from the inside. For me, this is where the yoga begins, with breath, creating space in the body, rooting into the present moment, expanding and contracting, dancing with the breath. When you can pinpoint how a posture makes you feel on the inside, you can recreate that feeling anytime you need it. My therapist who doesn't even practice yoga, helped me discover this by moving me through postures during our sessions. She would say, Do a pose that makes you feel strong, or safe, or joyful, or whatever emotion she is helping me to tap into, and it helps because I'm not always skilled at knowing how I'm feeling. I checked out of my life by denying strong emotions for a long time, so it is still new to me, and sometimes I lose my footing. The mud is always there, but I have faith that like the lotus flower, I will not only rise, but bloom. 

Stealing Life

As the date moves closer for the launch of the Eat Breathe Thrive series, I'm more aware than ever of being a positive role model for the eating disorder community, but I will tell you that the yoga community is filled with disordered eating and obsessions with health and fitness. I listen to it every day, and it brings back memories of starving and obsessing over every bite. It breaks my heart. I need to figure out how not to be buried by the sadness. When people start talking about their diets and cleanses, my mind shuts down, mainly to protect myself. I can never go on a cleanse, or restrict in any way because for me that will be a descent back into a hell I never want to return to. I posted about my frustrations on facebook, which maybe wasn't the wisest decision, because it upsets people, but then again, I think that eating disorders are often about secrets, silence, and shame. 

My voice is important...

These conversations are important...

Just because I'm leading a series to help people overcome food and body image issues doesn't mean that I'm 100% confidant with my body. There are still many days of struggle and learning to accept the body that I have now, but I know that I don't ever want to go back to the darkness of anorexia. I have some things to figure out, because I'm not perfect, and not everyone is going to like what I have to say. That is a tough one for me, because unfortunately, I do care about what people think. I let it take up way too much space and importance in my life, and that is something I will be working on. 

I am grateful to be here working on it though, 

because I almost allowed an eating disorder to steal my life. 

Eating disorders steal lives. 

Don't let it steal yours.

I Think About...

I think about how I made my way to a yoga studio, and it had nothing to do with making friends or being connected, although that is one of the best things to come out of discovering yoga. I'm not even sure what I was looking for...a way to lose weight without drawing attention to my treatment team that I was trying to find yet another way to abuse my body. I won't lie...I abused yoga in the beginning...I made my way to sometimes three classes a day in an attempt to exercise in a less strenuous and controlled manner, while also restricting my food intake. It didn't take long for me to figure out that my former gymnasts body was still flexible, but not very strong, and the osteoporosis from anorexia was not helping anything. I wanted to be good at yoga, like everything else, but strength played an important role, and starving myself would not get me very far. I practiced during every free moment, also listening to the advice of my teachers. I wanted to be thin, but I also wanted to be strong, and the two together did not make sense in my body. Sometimes I still want a strangers thin, strong body...a body without an ounce of fat, defined muscles, perfect alignment, but that person doesn't exist, at least not for long, in my human form. We are constantly changing, and the female body especially goes through many transformations. Society has convinced us that we should move through it all like movie stars, forgetting that most of us do not have personal trainers and make up artists to get us through our days. I still don't feel great about the body I see in the mirror, but practicing yoga has been the one thing that manages to help me appreciate what my body can do.
I'm a woman, made of flesh, muscle, blood, and bone. 
My body flows through sun salutations, days of soreness, sorrow, laughter, and here I continue to stand, with all of my imperfections. I'm tired of hating my body, and I still haven't quite figured out how to love it, but I will continue to try.
 

Photograhy by~Jackie Heyen

Lost Girls

Dedicated to all of the women lost to eating disorders, trauma, and depression. 

Lost Girls

We will always wait for you

arms outstretched

fingers reaching

wanting, hoping

the air pulsating, 
throbbing 

our hearts heavy

Plum, orchid, periwinkle

waiting, dripping, bleeding

Unable to lift the weight of your head

away from your neck

Your chin rests against your heart

steady thrumming

like a kitten

you purr

Humming breath
your pulse racing ahead of your words

Breathe, Breathe,

please, breathe

Flashes of you ...
laughing, smiling,

pleading, crying

We are here now 
to keep you safe

our bodies filled with your voice

we will speak...

                                                                      

Angela Minard 2014©

A Recovery Milestone

I have reached a huge recovery milestone, and so today is ending with an overflowing amount of gratitude and joy. I have been seeing a nutritionist for 7 years, and today was my final appointment. I truly do not feel I would be alive right now if it had not been for the dedicated treatment team that I have. After a few sessions with my therapist, she insisted that I also seek the help of a nutritionist, and referred me to the amazing woman who would help to guide me through this recovery journey. I was not always the most compliant client, but ultimately, she found techniques to encourage me in a way that was both firm and kind. I was looking through old blog posts, and it is mind boggling the things I have already "forgotten." There were the years that I ate nothing for days on end, and then the day I finally agreed to go in-patient. There were the days weaning myself from laxative abuse, then being able to work towards eating in front of people and weaning myself away from a liquid diet. There were suicide attempts after I was weight restored, accepting a new body, and learning to eat even when my eating disorder screamed at me that I was weak and pathetic. I had been spacing out my appointments for the past year, going every two weeks, and then once a month. I was honestly afraid to stop seeing her, because I was terrified of a relapse. I also had developed a relationship that I trusted and valued, and ending my treatment with her was frightening. I didn't even know until this morning that I was going to tell her I was ready to stop seeing her, but on my way to work, as I was driving, I was thinking about my weight, and how I wanted to lose weight. I pondered this thought for a few moments, caught myself, and almost laughed out loud. I realized that not a day has passed in at least 25 years that the same thought hasn't been turned over at a dizzying speed in my mind. When I couldn't even sit in the bathtub without padding, I didn't think I was thin enough. The difference now is, it is a thought, it passes, and I continue with my day, with my meals, with my life...I may live the rest of my life with that passing thought, but I'm no longer going to starve myself to death over it, or allow that thought to steal my life or my joy. 
I cried on the way to my nutritionists, and then I repaired my make-up in the bathroom before riding the elevator up to her office. I know that if I ever need her, she will be there for me, and she has been referring clients to the yoga studio where I teach. Tonight, she had tears in her eyes as she talked about the progress we have made together, and then she said, 

"You have made a life for yourself worth recovering for." 

I felt the tears sting my eyes, but I fought back, until a smile overtook my tears.

I certainly did not fight this battle alone! 

Tonight I bow to one of my many teachers. 

Thank you...

I Am Alive

I was searching for some old pictures of the boys to post on facebook for "Throwback Thursday." and stumbled across an old picture of myself wearing a bikini. It is ironic since I am planning on a trip to the pool with a friend today. I inhaled sharply, and quickly shuffled past it, but it wasn't fast enough to avoid the blank look on my face, the sharp collar bones, and outline of my ribcage. A friend had taken my picture at the public pool where I spent the summer with the boys. I had already given birth to all of them, and I was wasting away. I would go for days living on apple slices, and taking dozens of laxatives to get rid of everything. I wanted to be clean...empty...

Today, I will put on my swim suit. It is not a bikini, although I could wear one if I wanted. My shoulders are strong; no longer sharp and bony. I have curves and more than enough flesh to cover my ribs. There is a light in my eyes, and more importantly, I am alive. I am alive...

Now Is Simply Beautiful

I am wide awake, when I should be sleeping, but my mind cannot rest, and my heart is racing madly. I'm out of my routine I suppose, and life is buzzing loudly; insistant that I sit up and take notice. I'm so alive that it feels as if an electric current is running throughout my body, and it is not entirely pleasant. Changes are happening all around me, and with change comes a certain amount of discomfort. These changes are everything I've dreamt of, and it feels so unreal at times to believe that I can even have these things that I've wanted. I'm beginning to teach some yoga classes at a couple of studios in town, and it is amazing to me to love it as much as I hoped I would. I wasn't sure... I mean, I love my yoga practice, but there is a difference between practicing and teaching. A large portion of recovery for me has been sharing my journey with other people who are struggling to find their way, and that has mainly been sharing my story through writing. Yoga was the missing piece of the puzzle for me in terms of recovering from the eating disorder and post traumatic stress. I needed yoga to teach me how to re-connect to my body in a healthy way. Wanting to teach yoga stems from a tremendous desire to give back somehow, so I'm relieved to find that I love teaching, as scary as it is! I have so much still to learn, but I'm ready, and more than willing. 

The school year is over, and I have a few days off before summer school begins, so my routine has been disrupted, which often throws off my sleep. It has been an exciting couple of weeks, with my third son graduating from high school. He will be going away to college in the fall, and my husband and I are talking of downsizing. It is strange to be thinking of moving, but I'm excited and nervous all at the same time. I do have the future in mind, but I'm also rooted firmly in this present moment. Whatever comes will come whether I worry about it or not, so I'm not worried. Now is simply beautiful...

What Does Your Body Represent?

I’m a myriad of feelings, a ball of confusion, trapped within a body that in its best moments seems foreign, but most times only disgusts me. I was talking to my therapist this week about my body image, but I knew at the time that all it sounded like was that I was unsatisfied with the way I look. She tells me that this is the part of the eating disorder that is the most difficult to get past, and I know that until I can work through this, I'm at high risk for a relapse.  I sent her an e-mail yesterday, because I had a panic attack while getting dressed in the morning. This is what I wrote~

 

”I want someone to understand, but I don’t even understand why I feel so miserable in my body. It isn’t even about what it looks like as much as it is about how it feels, and I can’t get away."

 

Her reply~ ”What does your body represent that you want to get away from?”

 

I thought about her question for most of yesterday, and what I came up with is shame. My body represents shame, and the more there is of me, the more shame I feel. No, scratch that…it isn’t even about the size of my body, it is about feeling. I'm feeling so much more than I ever have. I’m not as disconnected from my body anymore, because that is what the restriction of food allowed.  My therapist called me last night, to see how I was doing, and I told her what I came up with, and she said that made perfect sense, and that we would start working on those feelings of shame. It isn't like we have never talked about shame before. We have talked about how I blame myself for being raped, and that shame is deeply ingrained. What I want to get away from is the rape, and the trapped feelings that I had during the rape have carried over and onto my body. There is still so much work to be done, and it seems like an endless task at times, but I can do this. I want so much to be free.

Isn't It Ironic

My hip hurts so badly that I cannot walk without wanting to cry, and even when I'm not walking, it still aches. The pain started up again at the beginning of the week, but I ignored it, hoping it would improve. Yesterday was so bad that I couldn't make it through work so I went home and called the doctor. I went in and actually cried in the office because of the pain. The doctor referred me to an orthopedic specialist and gave me some pain medication, which is not touching the pain. I couldn't get in for an appointment until Wednesday, but I don't know if I can deal with this until then. Dave wants to take me to the emergency room, but I don't know what they would do for me. I don't know what I'm going to do about work. The doctor that I saw yesterday thinks it is more than a stress fracture and that I need to have an MRI. I'm so frustrated that my body is falling apart when I've been making such a huge effort to take care of it. I don't have anymore sick days left at work and I'm terrified that I'm going to lose my job. I can't work with kids like this, and I'm also afraid that I'm going to have permanent limitations that would make me unable to do my job. It is so ironic that today is the first day of the yoga teachers training that I had wanted to sign up for this year. I guess it is a good thing that it didn't work out, but it is taking my mind to a dark and negative place because I fear now that it will never happen. I found something good, and I don't deserve to have it. I purposely haven't written here in awhile because I have never wanted to be one of those people who talks about their aches and pains constantly, and that has been what my last couple of posts have been about. I've been so proactive about taking care of my health. I stopped eating gluten and dairy which seems to have helped with the itching, and I got off of all of my medications months ago. My therapist was not thrilled when I told her that I had discontinued the anti-depressants, but I have been fine without them. I'm down about the state of my physical health, but who wouldn't be? She is also worried that limiting what I eat is going to cause a relapse, but I'm being so careful. Life is full of irony for me right now. I'm finally taking care of my body, but maybe it is too late.

The Big Picture

“Many survivors struggle with anxiety attacks. Anxiety is what you experience when you’re overwhelmed by your emotions, your memories, or when something in your environment reminds you of old feelings of terror or of being trapped. You may actually be reliving what you experienced as a child or you may be trying to push feelings and memories away.” Courage to Heal Workbook by Laura Davis

Saturdays are a wondrous, glorious thing, especially after a long first week back at work. I've been struggling a bit here, doing great a bit there, so all around, when I look at the big picture, I'm really okay. My anxiety level has been high, partly due to an aggressive student, and partly because I have a new fear about driving. I've always tended to have panic attacks in the car because it makes me feel trapped and out of control. I've been afraid that other people are going to hit me, or I'm going to swerve into oncoming traffic. I think a lot of it is because at work, there is the constant fear that I'm going to be hit or have things thrown at me. My adrenaline is pumping as soon as I get up in the morning. The other thing that is making me crazy is that I feel hungry all of the time. From the time that I get up until I collapse at the end of the day, I feel like I'm in constant motion. I'm exerting a lot of energy at work, I eat a protein bar on the way to my second school, and then I go straight to yoga. I need more food in my day, and I'm scared to add it, but to function, I have to. I saw my nutritionist on Thursday. We talked about how great it is that I'm feeling the hunger instead of ignoring it. Actually, she said it is awesome, but it doesn't feel awesome at all. It is scary! I'm afraid that I will become a bottomless pit, greedy and starving all of the time. I've decided that I will pack more snacks in my purse. I don't really have much time to sit down and eat them, but I will just try to fit them in when I can, which means that I may have to eat in front of other people. My nutritionist rarely weighs me anymore, but this time she had me get on the scale. I never ask the number, but only if I've gained or lost. She said I had lost, and really stressed that I need to increase my intake due to my activity level. I'm going to do it because the constant hunger is a horrible feeling. It makes me wonder how I ever did this, and of course part of me thinks that I'm just not as good at being anorexic as I used to be. Last night I ate most of a hamburger that my husband had grilled, and it was actually a relief to have the hunger gone. I've come a long way from not even recognizing when I was hungry. It is one more step in the right direction.