"There is a lot of tragedy in the world. There are thousands of people who have experienced unbelievable pain and suffering like you have. And there are thousands more who have had to survive much, much worse. It can be done. Each day you get up and you make a decision on whether or not your will be a survivor. I would imagine all you need to do is look into the eyes of your children to know what has to be done. Walk away from the past and start walking toward your future."
This was an anonymous comment on my previous post. What this person said is very true, but I already feel like a survivor. I already know that it can be done. I survived for thirty years without asking for help...believing that I somehow deserved what happened to me. I realize that other people have suffered much worse tragedies in their lives than I have. I'm not worried about other people. Letting go of the secret of having been raped, also means that I have to face the trauma that I hid from for many years. There are repercussions to literally facing my demons, and those are what I'm working on getting through. I ran from my past for too long, and I'm leaving behind the guilt and shame. I decided to be a survivor a long time ago, and now it is my time to heal so that I may fly toward my future... finally free.
It has been a very rough week,
of which I will write more about soon.
I wrote this poem last year.
I long to feel the joy that comes with freedom.
With Abandon
I want to drift
through lavender fields
The petals so soft
like the fingers of children,
laying hands on my face
Bringing their kisses,
the sun bursting lips,
the warm blush of roses
I want to twirl
and spin in the rain
The pelting of tears,
the pin pricks of pain
Barefoot laughter
dancing in time,
to the dripping
rhythm and rhyme
I want to sing!
Pounding keys,
plucking strings
A melody rising,
resounding within
Staccato, fortissimo,
the march of my heart
Beating wild,
abandoned,
alive
by Angela Minard 2007
Dave and I have a couples therapy session this morning, and here I am in the early morning hours, trying to form full thoughts, and piece together in my mind exactly what it is that I want to say when I get in there. I so often feel like our relationship is that of parent/child, not husband/wife, and trying to figure out all of the reasons why I feel that way. Maybe it is the lack of freedom that I feel. Having to account for every single thing that I do, where I go, every penny that I spend, how I spend and manage my time. Having to give reasons for all of that, and feeling like those reasons are never good enough. Dave has said that I am not who he married, and I wonder what it is that he misses. He fears that he is losing me, just when I have finally found me. None of this probably makes any sense, but I have faith that we will find our way, and really, that is all that matters. Maybe it is in this process of growth and change that I feel the need to fight for freedom.
I started a blog on myspace almost a year ago, titled Conversations With Claudia, and this was my first post.
Who is Claudia? She is not my friend, but she has been a part of my life for a very long time. She is the voice of my eating disorder. A voice that over time, has crowded out my own thoughts and beliefs. I'm hoping that someday I will leave her behind.
I have an amazing therapist and also a nutritionist who thought it would be a good idea to give my eating disorder a seperate identity from myself. It would be a way to delineate between my own voice and the voice of the eating disorder. I'm finally beginning to see how often Claudia talks to me. She is bossy, demanding, snide, snotty, and degrading. She is also the one with the control most of the time, but I know that needs to change if I am to survive.
I remember the first time she spoke to me. I was seven years old, sitting in church, and looking down at my thighs as I sat in the pew. "Your legs are so fat,"! She said.
Why did she choose that moment to begin her torment? I'm not really sure. My mom, grandma, and two aunts were constantly dieting and discussing their weight. I'm sure that their conversations wormed their way into what I began to also believe about myself.
Being raped at the age of eleven was the real beginning of my self loathing and hatred. A secret that I held inside, suffocating my voice, and letting the shame eat me alive. Puberty began soon after, and with it, the ultimate betrayal of my own body.
I'm hoping that writing down some of the conversations that I have with Claudia will help me to find my own voice, and hopefully, someday, my voice will be louder than hers.
It feels wonderful to read this again, just to see how far I have come. Is my voice louder than the voice of Claudia's? Yes, I think it is, and damn, it feels good! I believe that the writing saved me. I began writing blogs, writing poetry, writing in my journal, writing my thoughts in e-mails to my therapist. I couldn't seem to stop writing, and more than that, I felt such a strong desire to share what I had written. First with my therapist, who encouraged me with compliments on the poetry that I would share with her. I created a website with my poems, www.poetrypoem.com/4angel , and then I started blogging; Sharing with strangers about things that I had kept secret for most of my life. Through writing, I found the freedom to unlock the silence, and begin the process of healing.
Sometimes it all is too much
Too much to feel
Reaching out
You try to hold on
when the world has let go
of your hand
So you stand
on the edge of the earth
Looking down
Too much is lost
and can never be found
The time's finally come...
so you say your goodbyes
and you fly
Angela Minard 2008
I have been really frustrated over the past few days about my obsession with weight, calories, and restricting. I feel like it is a body image thing... That if I was happier with the body that I see when I looked into the mirror...but then I remember that even when I'm dangerously underweight...I'm not happy. My eyes cannot seem to recognize the truth, so do I just stop looking? Yet even if I stopped looking...I can feel it...the feeling that I'm taking up an ungodly amount of space, and it feels so uncomfortable and disgusting. I hate those feelings, but I know that restricting doesn't banish them...so I just sit with the feelings...and wait...and hope for recovery. I feel sometimes as if I am spilling out all over the place. I worry any time my husband hugs me, touches my waist, my hips... I worry when I dry my pants and put them on....it's an ongoing battle in my head.I think that is what gets to me. That I am always so damn conscious of my body. I think that it is part of not wanting to feel. I don't want to feel so connected to my body. I need to stop thinking of my own body as the enemy, waiting for it to betray me. I hope for a time in my life to be free of these obsessive thoughts, worries, and fears, and yes... I question whether it is even possible for me. Maybe for others, but what if... not for me? I suppose that is what I am truly afraid of. The fear that I will never be free.
I'm holding on to everything that I can right now. I'm holding on to Dave, my kids. I'm holding all of this love from everyone so deep inside of my heart. Holding on so tight that my whole entire being feels like an open wound. How many times can I say how very afraid I am? I'm so afraid to let go of the eating disorder. I hold on to Claudia(aka, my ED) more than anything or anyone else. I trust that she will always be here for me, and she certainly never lets me down! It is time though... Time to let go... Time to trust and believe in the one person who holds the key, and that is me. I hold the key.
I have started packing for Renfrew. I'm taking the quilt from our bed. That will help to make me feel close to home. I bought an electric shaver so that I wouldn't have to go and ask for a razor everytime that I want to shave. Yesterday I went without makeup except for mascara, and I dyed my hair back to it's natural color. I won't have to worry so much about my roots! I don't mind going without makeup, but with my hair darker, I need a bit of color, so today I'm wearing a little. Dave wanted some pitures of me before I left, so I'm posting one of them. Let me know what you think, unless you hate it. Keep that to yourself!
Much love,
Angie
The World Awaits
Only a breath away
Inhale!
Take in the air
Hear the silence
The gentle touch
Before it disappears
Gazing ahead
Life stretches
Fathomless, limitless
A child's delight
Reaching upward
The yearning soul
Seeks the chance
To take flight
Angela Minard 2007
The Key
Speak!
Internal heart
Afraid to feel
Locked inside silence
Trapped beneath fear
Caged and restless
The thrashing of wings
Yet, waiting...
Dangling
from
a
string.
The weary, rusted hinges sing.
Angela Minard 2007
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