Here and Now

Suspended I am  not a part  of this make believe  time suspended within a week a month  a year meaningless is my voice  here  Maybe I wouldn't recognize you anyway away from these walls breaking apart I am watching you crumble you don't hold me anymore in stillness my palms reaching out to you  are empty nothing to offer... I am not a part of you meaningless is my voice here Angela Minard 2015©

Homesick I remember  how my breath would hover somewhere  between hope and longing the curious loneliness of watching you sleep missing you while you were dreaming without me... carefully trying to nestle beneath your lifeless arm placing your hand to rest against my heart silently pleading "I am here" my own arms  never enough Never enough... to keep my wanting contained Angela Minard 2015©

I want to follow up on my "Friendships and Loss" post, because although that loss was painful, and occasionally stings, I do not dwell on it any longer. In the past few years I have developed a circle of friends who rally around me, love me unconditionally, and continually make me laugh to the point of aching cheeks and throbbing belly. It was difficult to have relationships with people when anorexia was my constant companion, so I didn't have many friends. I know it was confusing and painful for anyone close to watch me struggling, and I lost a couple of friends in the process. Friendships, and relationships in general are important to me, and maybe because I spent so many years building walls, I crave true connection. I feel loved because I allow myself to feel love. I'm hugged so many times a day that I lose count. How great is that?! Working in a yoga studio definitely doesn't hurt. Those yogis are huggers! They also tell you that they love you, and th...

I had a dream about a former friend the other night, and although I can't recall the details of the dream, upon waking, the loss was once again fresh and raw. I moved through my morning routine with the ache in my chest as I fed the dog, prepared coffee, and sat down at the computer. It was then that I noticed the date, the breath catching in my throat. It was her birthday. Our birthdays are precisely a week apart, and our wedding anniversaries exactly the same, except for the year. She was my maid of honor, she was at the birth of my first son, I sat on the crumpled bed in her room and cried with her when her dad passed away... we shared so much, and the loss still causes both pain and anger.  It is strange how the mind works, and I wonder if on some subconscious level, her birthday registered in my brain, even though it hadn't seemed to cross my mind at all. It has been 5 years since we have spoken, and I have changed in many ways, as I'm sure she has as well. ...

I keep looking down at my arms. Right now I hate them. They seem fleshy, doughy, ugly, and I'm sad about them...or am I? I'm increasingly uncomfortable in my skin lately, and yet doubtful that it has much of anything to do with my physical form. There are changes that I'm longing to make in my life, but they aren't practical changes, and in fact are impossible at this time, and so I'm stuck. It is a heavy, claustrophobic feeling, and because I'm learning to recognize the distorted way that my mind works, I'm almost certain that these feelings are spilling over into how I feel about my body. I might as well cry about my arms, because I can do something about them. I could work on changing them, just so I can feel productive, and not worry about the parts of my life I can't change. This is how eating disorders work. It will attempt to sneak in, trying to find the weak spot, and I'm strong enough and smart enough to recognize it for exactly what ...

This is dissociation as I experience it~ Sitting with a group of friends, I'm surrounded by their familiar laughter. I vaguely feel the muscles of my face contort into the shape of a smile, although it feels somewhat ghoulish, and I'm aware of a floating sensation in my limbs, hollow, and yet strangely weary. The rise and fall of conversation is barely an echo that I'm desperately trying to grasp a hold of within my mind. I am a stranger in these moments of separation, watching with detached curiosity before I slip into oblivion...  I'm learning to catch myself before falling... Counting the length of my inhales and exhales, or naming everything I see that is the color blue, anything to remind myself that I am a part of this world. I've stopped asking myself why because the reasons are many, and complicated. I can't always figure them out, and sometimes I think they are more internal than external. If I tried to avoid the triggers, I would be a ...

Today is my birthday... the final year of this decade in my forties. It has been tumultuous to say the least.  I clawed my way through,  sometimes barely hanging on, but here I am!  I would like to say it was a beautiful ride, but not so much... At first glance,  you may have even wanted to avert your gaze,  but there was quiet celebration  if you could focus your gaze long enough to see the details.  The celebration in no particular order, because I find them all to be miracles... Finding my voice, which meant finally speaking out about being raped Going to therapy Getting treatment for anorexia which meant going inpatient and being away from my family Surviving two suicide attempts {Feeling my feelings was overwhelmingly painful, and I wanted to die.} I'm thankful that I was not successful.  Finding yoga and an accepting community Continuing to work through the process of trauma with my amazing therapis...