Here and Now

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

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

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 ...

I've been sitting here for awhile now, staring at the blank white computer screen with the black cursor blinking at me, waiting for me to type my thoughts on this blog where I have been coming for many years. I'm struggling to put my emotions into words and to make sense of what I'm feeling in the aftermath of the death of Robin Williams. The dialogue on social media has been heartbreaking for me, and for the most part I have kept my distance because it opens up wounds that I'm trying to heal. I have been held in the vice like grip of depression. Twice I attempted to take my own life, and both times I was angry that I didn't succeed. At the time, I certainly could not see my own worth, and believed my husband and children would be better off without me. I had slowly been trying to starve myself for years, so once I had become nutritionally stable and weight restored, I had a whole new ball of wax to begin to deal with, and the descent into hell came quickly. ...

~Artwork by Nishant Dange   It is important for me to feel like I'm helping others, but I don't think I realized how much so, until the beginning of this week when trying to help someone didn't go the way I intended. I immediately realized my mistake when the person reacted to my well-meaning intentions with anger. I apologized because so often when another person comes to you with their pain, all they want is to be heard and comforted. What I tried to do was offer solutions instead of acknowledging their pain, and I still feel horrible about it. The experience has opened up some feelings inside of me that I'm trying to figure out and learn from. I have felt like crying ever since, but have been refusing to give in, as if it would be self-indulgent and weak. My feelings in general have been intense since my first yoga teacher's training weekend. Joy and gratefulness overwhelmed me, and I floated around for an entire week after, p...

It seems that all I have been able to write are poems lately. I'm not sure what to say otherwise. I'm in a grey place, where I can almost see light, but there is fear that the darkness will take over. Depression sneaks up, and my words are my voice when I cannot speak out loud. I distance myself because I don't want to scare anyone. Anger has been brewing, seemingly over little things, which I blow out of proportion. That has always been what I'm afraid of. The rage overwhelms me, and what goes through my mind is wanting to hurt myself because I feel that I'm the cause of so much pain. My therapist wanted me to write out the things that make me angry. What I thought of first is that it makes me angry when I feel I'm being controlled. I fight to hold on to myself, and to my autonomy. I feel that I'm not always allowed to be angry, and maybe because it surprises people when it happens, no one quite knows how to react. I feel like my anger isn't alw...

My heart hurts today, but for some reason, I cannot pinpoint why I'm feeling so sad. I tend to escape when I feel this way, so I took a three hour nap, hoping the melancholy would be gone when I woke up, but, no, it is still hanging on. I find myself taking deep breaths and trying not to cry. It is the beginning of my spring break, the weather is beautiful today, and I should feel fine. There is no explanation for this, but I keep expecting one to come to me. I went and bought some wine, which maybe wasn't a good idea. I know that it is probably not the best way to deal with my feelings. Precisely...I don't deal with my feelings. All that I want is the numb to take over. The eating disorder doesn't always work anymore. Sometimes the feelings still sneak in, taking me by surprise. I see my psychiatrist on Tuesday. Maybe I need a med change or something. I've been taking my medications like I should. I should probably just figure out why I feel the way I do. Actually ...

"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 doe...

Well, the last day of school has finally arrived, and I'm so excited about my summer off that I can barely contain myself! This past week has been so busy for me. We made it through Christian's graduation, but just barely. It was a frustrating evening. He had a girlfriend over that afternoon, and he took her home and then didn't arrive back until a half hour before he was supposed to be at the school. He got ready, and we were so rushed that we couldn't take pictures before we left. We drove all the way to the school and then Christian realized that he didn't have his gown, so we had to drive all the way back home to get it. Dave and I were about ready to kill him! We made it through though, and now he is officially a high school graduate. He still has a lot of growing up to do. I'm glad that he isn't going away to college yet, because I know that he just isn't ready for that. All this week, my friend Jackie has been here visiting from Florida. She drove...

...So I took an entire bottle of Xanax(60 pills) and ended up in the ICU, and then on the psychiatric floor of a hospital for 6 days. If I'm nothing else, I am honest here in this blogging world, and that is why I have been missing in action for the past week. Definitely not my proudest moment, and something that I will regret for the rest of this life that I have been so privileged to live. A panic attack, depression, and anxiety got the better of me, and I behaved irrationally and impulsively. I had a panic attack while trying on clothes during a shopping trip. I went home feeling hopeless, defeated, and filled with thoughts of self loathing and disgust. I don't remember it, but I did reach out to my therapist by e-mail and told her that I had taken an overdose. She contacted my husband, who then took me to the emergency room. Suicide is such a selfish act, and I feel sick about hurting and worrying my family and friends in this way. I never meant to hurt anyone else in this....

My closet is clean. I usually don't mention size, but I gave away pants that I wore when I weighed less than eighty pounds. I'm not sure how I feel at the moment. To be honest... very upset...who would even understand? I'm sad, and sick, and near tears over it, but why?...

I dream in distortions a fun house mirror of horrors awake sweating swearing never to eat again too much of myself to loath I feel my body move beneath the sheets sinking heavy limbs unable to run from who I know I am

I sit in my waste disgusting sloth beautifully dressed in ballerina clothes A quiet disguise to fool the fans I peel my scabs loosening the skin hoping to find the new underneath this body sick and tired of feeling the rolls of flesh that feed Everyday wanting more from me Wanting nothing but more, more, more and where is my control to stop these feelings of hunger, rage, huge gaping holes of need that threaten to take over what has always been mine

This week has been filled with peace and contentment, along with sorrow and loss. The peace has come with the beginnings of acceptence and nurturing myself. In therapy, we have been talking about the ways in which I use my eating disorder to communicate. I use it to say,"take care of me, pay attention to me, leave me alone, listen to me..." I thought that it gave me power and control over my life, but all that it really gave me was a place to hide. Peeking out from behind the safety of my fortress, I'm daring myself to take some risks, and learning that my voice alone is strong enough to be heard. Even the sorrow and loss that I have felt has been different. It was different once I could accept it without the secret hope that I could go back and change it. The sadness is part of the past, and has nothing to do with the life that I am presently living, and when I can remind myself of that very basic fact, I am filled with peace.

Last night's therapy session was one of the best that I have ever had. I'm feeling very excited and hopeful right now. We talked about the reasons for holding on to my eating disorder and what purpose it is serving me at this point. I don't need it to help me cope with the rape anymore. I was having a hard time seeing the eating disorder and the rape as seperate entities; believing that the rape was the only reason for my eating disorder, but it is not. For a long time I also used it as a way to feel superior, and that is a very hard thing to have to admit to myself. In my mind, being fat meant not being good enough, and I felt like I was good at nothing. It gave me a false sense of power, and was the only special gift that I believed I could truly possess. So why am I still hanging on to it now? Those are no longer my beliefs. They are just old ideas that no longer serve a purpose, and it sounds so simple, but my therapist said, " So maybe now you can think about lett...

Pieces Of Me Parts and pieces, never the whole. Parts and pieces, a ravenous hole. A tilt of the head, and narrowing eyes. Only too well how the mirror does lie. Hollow and shadow turned inside out. Curving around the darkening doubt. The flesh torn and angry expands much too soon. Leaving room for self-loathing; an empty, Cimmerian gloom. The fragmented memories behind silent eyes. The departure of childhood and bittersweet goodbyes. Angela Minard 2007

I haven't eaten today because I feel like such a fat, disgusting pig. The voice of Claudia calls. She wants to be clean. She wants to feel safe. She is angry, insistant, and so loud. I ignore her. I think that I feel much worse without her. I am afraid to be without her for very long. I hate who I am when I am without her. I hate her.

I'm uncomfortable today, and I physically feel huge. I have to tell myself that I am not in pain, and dig deep for the reason that I feel this way. Why is it so hard for me to see the obvious, and to mask what I feel with the words FAT, HUGE, DISGUSTING. Ugly words that I find so difficult to replace. Feeling unworthy is just a bad habit. I'm plagued by nightmares that invite me to remember the feelings of shame. I struggle with letting it go. Giving up ownership of the shame. Believing, truly believing that the rape wasn't my fault. Constantly reliving the assault on my body makes me want to take it out on my body. This is where my discomfort comes from today. I have to find new words to say to myself today, otherwise I will find myself restricting. That is what I want to do. To feel empty and clean. So I need to eat, even though that will be uncomfortable. Not painful, just uncomfortable. I will tell myself that it will pass, and I will be okay. Three new words to replace...

I just want to be thinner. Always thinner. When will I think that it is enough. Just to feel comfort in myself, as I am. Enough really is an interesting word isn't it? It is a word that I cannot seem to wrap my mind around. I'm not sure that I believe that there is such a thing. Endless wanting and yearning, yet for what? I'm not longing for material possesions. I'm not lacking love or companionship. Only the sense that I'm somehow lacking some elusive quality. The ablility to exist without being seen. Invisible.