Just a Little Quiet

I have this really strong urge to go somewhere secluded. In the mountains, maybe. Where the tree canopies and the sunsets make my shallow, habitual need for constant entertainment obsolete. I would live in a shack where the natural cross breeze would act as my air conditioning and the rays of the sun would act as my heat. If I was bored I would visit my bookshelf, full of american classics and poetry, and choose something to read for the day. Or, I would grab my camera and go for a hike. I want to be able to put my phone down and listen to whatever thoughts I’m trying to ignore every time I scroll through a news feed, or hit the play button on Netflix.

There are plenty of people who don’t quite understand this, or they see me as depressed.”Make sure you’re not isolating.” they say. “What are you trying to run away from?” they ask. Each answer is simple. Realizing that this is something that I desire is invigorating and broadens the gap between me and any depression. I am not trying to hide. I am not moving geographically in the hopes that I will be able to escape my problems. For in the silence I wish to surround myself with, I welcome all of my thoughts and worries. I’ll even save them a seat in the car or the bus that I ride in, buckle them in, make sure they’re comfortable. I might even let them choose a song or two on the radio. In the mountains I would have room for all I’m supposed to be, including any and all baggage that I carry.

I wish to go somewhere remote  because, sometimes, in this world, I feel as though I am being screamed at. I am constantly trying to listen to others, trying not to offend others, and caring way to much about what others think. It seems as though I am ignoring myself. Everything is just to loud sometimes.

So maybe I am trying to run away, but it is from the things not allowing me to listen. Listen. Listening, understanding,comprehending and honoring…Honoring. But, finally, of the self and not of others. In the company of the trees and the magic dust from the moon that fills the air every night. In the company of the natural rhythm of the seasons. High on a mountain closer to heaven, the sky and of all its energy. There I wish to listen. There I wish to confront what I, and most of us, hide from on a daily basis.

One day, I promise, I will do this. And imagine the amazing blog posts that will come of it!


PhotoCredits: Me



August 5th

August 5th is my birthday and an official start to a new year for me. I think that out of all my years on this earth, although few, I am most grateful for this one. However, I would be lying if I didn’t say … this year was a total BITCH.

I firmly believe that there is an infinite amount of beauty in pain (or in this case, Beauty in the Bitch). Back in August of 2015, I finally started treatment for my eating disorder after 5 years of suffering and thinking that I could handle it by other means. Then September came around and I came out publicly with my ED. Doing this changed my life, or rather, saved it. I was no longer walking around in what I felt like was a metaphorical over sized hoodie and dark sunglasses, or what most literally came across as a very bad case of resting bitch face. I was walking around as Liv, authentically. This concept of being so vulnerable, although positive, proved miserable in its entirety. Little control freak Liv was no longer in control of how people perceived her. A blessing, really.

So much more happened to me besides things revolving around my ED. I fell in love for the first time. Not the kind you find in teen movies or even in your average romantic comedy, but the real kind. The unconditional kind. Consequently, my heart got broken just the same. However painful this process was for me, my theory proves correct and the beauty prevailed. Me, the girl who I thought was incapable of love, too damaged or scared, is in fact very capable. Not only am I capable, but loving others in the way that I do is a strength in my character that I was previously unaware of.  With my new awareness of love came a new awareness of morality. If one does not chase the magic, if one entertains concepts or practices that dull experience, then one needs to get one’s friggin priorities straight.

So it’s the start of a new year for me. A year, unlike the last, beginning in recovery. A year where my first step forward is one with a little bit more determination. Instead of a tiptoe, it’s a mild stomp. Mild, yet authentic and magical.


PhotoCredits: Olivia Broussard

Eating Disorders and Depression

Along with an eating disorder, I also have depression, and the two often go together. I was diagnosed with depression in the seventh grade and, until now, I coped with restricting and purging. I did these things in secret, and I thought they were working. But now, I have chosen recovery. I am slowly learning to let go of the extremely physically and emotionally destructive behaviors of ED. The next step for me is to not allow myself to become painfully hungry. The sensation of being so hungry and empty has an, almost, numbing affect on me. A sensation I am hopelessly addicted to. But in the last few weeks, I have made a lot of progress in this aspect. And (coincidentally?), I am also going through a rough patch of my depression. This time I am not numb to it. I am not in any emotional danger and am only writing because I want to share with you what it is like. Either for the purpose of education, or in the case that you might relate, that it might give you a sense of being understood. There is almost something painfully beautiful about my new, “sober”, depression.

A sense of being understood…

…So now when I am experiencing the throws of depression, it feels like I have the ability to look at life and call its bluff. For example, when I look at the concept of marriage I don’t see the pretty white wedding gowns and a lifetime of happiness, I see divorce. I see two people saying that they are going to be together forever, but are blissfully unaware that they don’t have the knowledge of the future to know whether or not they will grow apart. Love is temporary and pain is inevitable. Everything is an ending, nothing a beginning.

Is love temporary. Is pain inevitable.

There comes a time when I am not sure what to believe in: the magic of life that everyone says is there or what seems to bet he depressing truth  about existence. Now not only am I experiencing depression, I’m confused on what is real.

It is a fact that people with depression tend to ponder the meaning of life more than others do. They/we look for the answers to everything and everything must have an answer. But what if the answers are actually the delusions of depression. And what about the things that have no earthly answers. This makes me feel so afraid. I desperately need to know the purpose of everything and whether or not some things are just pointless. And what if I am pointless.

So when I appear sad or angry or distant I am simply lying to you. I am afraid… At least for now… because I am working on it.