Here and Now

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...

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 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©

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 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©

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 bla...

"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 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©

"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...

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 feel...

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©

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...

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...

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 ...

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 ...

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 coveri...

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©

"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...

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.

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 ...