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.