Here and Now

"Tree House At Night" (pencil) by artist, Hazel Bryce   Confessions To The Sky She wanted a tree house to climb so she built one in her mind as children do; a hidden place where she could write to the sky... The splinters pierced the tips of her fingers as she let the blood drip down her weary arms   Words soared, twisting among the stars exploding throughout galaxies Secrets held inside an infinite darkness swallowed by the yawning night Her body; an offering a sacrifice Her words; an echo a confession an unspoken prayer...   Angela Minard 2013©

Freedom Speaks I would literally squeeze my eyes closed as tightly as I could and count to ten when the memories would threaten to creep in. Sometimes the flashing images in the darkness would buzz so loudly in my ears, and I would have to get away, seperating from myself once again. It is the child who can will their own escape; drifting dreamless, until the fear finds a secret place to hide. The darkest secrets, living in silence, will suffocate your soul. Freedom speaks. Angela Minard 2010©

Therapy was hard today, in a way that I cannot even explain here, but we talked about secrets and shame. I tend to carry those two things around with me wherever I go. It is exhausting, and yet I can't seem to let them go. I have told my therapist so many things that I could never say out loud before, and out loud is a hard thing for me. Using my voice is a hard thing. Anyway, I wrote a poem a long time ago to my therapist, when I was still afraid to trust her with my secrets, and that is something that I'm still working on. Here it is... Secrets I'm afraid all of the time. I wonder what you hide. No one is who they say they are. Who are you? Who am I? Who can I trust with all that I am? For so long you have seen what I want you to see, or so I thought. I don't want to be alone anymore. To be me. Alive. So I give all of my secrets away. To hold like a wish in your hands. A deep breath... And then gone... Angela Minard 2007©

I'm struggling with what to write here, but if I could sum it up into three words, it would be: Secrets, Guilt, and Shame. Eating Disorders are all about secrets, shame, and feeling guilty. Guilt for taking care of my body, when deep down, I don't feel that I deserve it. I'm ashamed of the secrets that I still keep to hold on to this eating disorder. There are behaviors that I know I need to completely cease if I am to truly recover. Mainly those are the alcohol, and the purging. The alcohol is not something that I use on a daily basis, but when I do use it, it is usually for the wrong reasons, and it also triggers me to dissociate , which is never a good thing. The purging has become a replacement for the restricting, and I'm headed nowhere good with that, and it too, is very shameful and humiliating to admit. I had a session with my nutritionist yesterday, and we talked about the purging because I have had a particularly hard time with it this week. I keep telling her...

My husband wonders why I do this. He doesn't understand why I would want to share so much personal information, especially with strangers. In the beginning, the writing was a way to sort through all of the thoughts and feelings that began to surface after I told my husband and therapist that I had been raped as a child. I was so protective of all of my secrets, and I think it was a way of keeping something for myself when everything else had been taken. Eating disorders thrive in silence, and hiding behind the secrets made me feel safe. Through writing, I began to slowly let go of the shame that I had carried around for so long, and it felt good. What felt even better though was the response I received from people that I didn't even know. I would hear how my story or a poem that I had written touched someone else, or had helped them to feel less alone, and for once in my life, I felt like maybe I could make a difference. I was finally being heard, and now I feel that I can no l...

Dave and I had a couples session with my therapist last Wednesday, and I have felt shut down both mentally and emotionally ever since. The session was good, but it was also intense and exhausting to discuss topics and feelings that I have always avoided in the past. Silence can be a hard habit to break, but I'm learning to speak up when something upsets me. Dave made a comment to me last week that brought to the surface so many different emotions. I was walking away from him, and as I did, he said, "Can I have some fries with that shake?" It triggered the eating disordered voice, saying that I have excess baggage, and it also triggered those feelings of my body being looked at in a sexual way. I immediately let him know that I was upset and we were able to talk about it. I know he wishes that he could take back those words, and he would never say something like that if he knew it would hurt me. He just thought that he was paying me a compliment! I have a therapy and nutri...

~Today is Angela Shelton Day~ Report IT! We will all Report IT on the same day. The Report IT Campaign is a nationwide state-to-state rally to report sexual violence and abuse on the same day! It was created to raise awareness on the vast under-reporting of sexual assault including rape, incest, and abuse. ~April 29, 2008~ hailed Angela Shelton Day. People nationwide will show up at their local county courthouses on April 29th! Together we will break the silence and the cycle! You can fill out the online form anytime on or before April 29th. This IS NOT an official police report! Thank you for Reporting IT! Share where you'll be Reporting IT on Upcoming Events! Need to talk to someone? Free, confidential - 800-656-HOPE History of the Report IT campaign In Angela Shelton’s award-winning documentary “ Searching for Angela Shelton ”, she surveyed women in the US with her same name. As she began interviewing other Angela Sheltons, she found that 70% had been victims of rape, childho...

I would literally squeeze my eyes closed as tightly as I could and count to ten when the memories would threaten to creep in. Sometimes the flashing images in the darkness would buzz so loudly in my ears, and I would have to get away, seperating from myself once again. It is the child who can will their own escape; Drifting dreamless, until the fear finds a secret place to hide. The darkest secrets, living in silence, will suffocate your soul. Freedom speaks.

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,...

Another early morning, and the battle between my mind and my body begins. Again. I have every intention of giving up some of the behaviors that just fuel my downward spiral. I am too ashamed to even say what those behaviors are, and I'm definitely not proud of the things that I have done in order to hide from myself. I spent almost my entire life with the secret shame of being raped. When I let go of that secret, I almost felt as if I were mourning the loss of something that I held very dear. I felt so exposed that I began to find other secrets that I could keep. A way to keep something for just myself, and a way to distance myself from the very people that I trusted enough to tell. Who will be there to catch me when I fall? I want to believe and trust that I won't be abandoned, but I haven't been able to take that leap of faith. The secrets must end if I am to survive, and I do believe that I can let go of them. I am going to be honest in saying that right now I am activel...

I'm in a fog right now, and probably have no business writing, but my thoughts need a home, so here I am. This evening I had a therapy session and a nutritionist appointment. I went tonight with the belief that I was headed in the right direction toward recovery. I may have fooled myself, but my treatment team was far from fooled. My nutritionist feels that I am headed toward a serious relapse if I cannot gain control of all of my destructive behaviors, and she is right. I already feel too deep to dig myself out. One by one the behaviors creep in, sometimes one replacing another, until once again I am lost inside the safe white noise of my eating disorder. The obsessions begin, the secrets and lies, and I cannot find my way out. I continue to disappoint myself and others, and knowing this, the sadness is crushing me.

My name is Angela. I was raped by two men when I was eleven years old. It was brutal and ugly and I kept it hidden from everyone but myself for twenty nine years. I have finally found my voice. I'm trying to use it!

I got into a huge fight with my husband. Mostly over how I spend my time, which sounds so ridiculous. He has been so wonderful through all of this. I know that it is hard for him. See, I never told anyone about being raped when I was eleven, until last summer. I was in therapy to deal with the anorexia, and one night it just came out when I was talking with my husband. I had thought that I could keep it a secret forever, but inside I always felt like a fraud. He has been so great. I know that he is worried, and I have given him plenty of reasons to worry. Telling about the rape brought out feelings that I had tried to forget. I began having flashbacks and panic attacks. I have had a lot of episodes where I dissassociate and cannot remember anything. He feels like I "check out" to escape. Either with the anorexia, or drinking, sleeping, or the computer. If only I could truely escape!