Facebook is filled with links to articles that talk about love and relationships. Oftentimes, these articles are in the form of checklists. “If it’s real love then your relationship has these 10 things”. “If he really loves you then he will do these 15 things”. “Your relationship will fail if you say these 9 things”. Continue reading “My Message of Love”
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!
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
When I am in a good mood, or I am feeling very inspired, I have this desire to do back flips around the room like a Olympic gold medalist, or sing a powerful song and hit every note perfectly, or paint a masterpiece! But, if I tried to do a back flip I would break my neck, if I tried to sing like I was on American Idol I would make people’s ears bleed, and if I tried to paint a masterpiece I would draw a stick person and call it a day. Within me does not lay the soul of a gymnast. Within me lay the soul of a writer. Continue reading “I Will Write”