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!
When I am anxious, I listen to Jason Mraz and put on lavender lotion. When I am feeling depressed, I open the windows and read some awesome blogs. But when I am numb, there doesn’t seem to be a lot that I can do. And there is something very scary about that. For me, the sensation (or lack there of) of being numb, is the hardest part of recovery.
A defense mechanism that I have is “Checking Out.” I shut off entirely.
“Livy how was your day?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well what did you do today?”
“I don’t remember.”
I am feeling numb today. I have been feeling numb for about 2 weeks now. So today I started asking myself what it is that I am trying to block out. And then I made sure that I am not feeling numb because I am restricting (which can sometimes be a subconscious habit). After a little bit of self reflection I realized two things. 1) I am restricting again and 2) I am checking out of all of the transition in my life. I am graduating high school and moving out in three months. I am leaving the only school that I have ever attended that felt like home to me, and the only school where I was never bullied. I am about to re-enter a world (a real world) full of gossip, judgement and, dare I use the cliche word, cliques.
Will I be able to face each judgement call with civil confidence? or will I be triggered and cope by purging and restricting? Will I stay on track with my treatment, or will I become fueled by the high of hunger and decide to skip my doctors appointments, group meetings and counseling sessions. I am terrified to see what will come…. But wait, that’s good! I am feeling scared right now, and with this fear comes the absence of my numbness. This shakiness that I feel right now as I struggle to hit the right keys as I am typing, this shakiness is a gift. I am afraid for my life because I value it, because I want to keep it.
Will I be able to face each judgement call with civil confidence?
So when I am anxious I listen to Jason Mraz and put on lavender lotion. When I am depressed, I open the windows and look at some amazing blogs. And when I am numb, I will evaluate 1) are you restricting and 2) what are you trying to block out. Then I may blog about it, or journal or write a letter. But let me juts finish by saying… Lord thank you for my shaky hands.
I have been ordered to wear a heart monitor for the next thirty days, and it is not something that you can easily hide from people. It makes occasional, yet loud and obnoxious, beeping sounds. The wires hang out from under my shirt, and the monitors battery back clips on to my waist and creates a bulge that makes any outfit weird. My eating disorder has always been something that I have been embarrassed about, and now that has been physically manifested in a chunky heart monitor for all of the world to see.
I try very hard not to be embarrassed, but I just am. I know what an eating disorder is, I know why I have it and what I am trying to accomplish by having it, but most people don’t. Most people hear the words “eating disorder” and slap a label you. This label might say something like this:
She is a shallow and spoiled girl who cares way too much about her looks. She probably learned those habits from her years at a private school.
This stereotype is something that fills me with an unbearable amount of anger and hurt! I have a really hard time with this stereotype because it is something that I know NOT to be true. At all. The girls that I have met through recovery, are some of the most amazing people I have, and will ever meet in my entire life. Their resilience is incredible, the amount of insight, wisdom and compassion that they have can not be found anywhere else.
I can confidently say, that most of the people who are affected by ED, are some of the most emotionally intelligent and intuitive people, and this ability that they/we have to feel so deeply is a gift, but is also one of the reasons why ED chose our minds.
This resilience, compassion and intuition is what I want people to see in me and in the people fighting this battle. I would be perfectly fine if that was the persisting stereotype. But it’s not. When people see me and my heart monitor, they are going to label me. It’s inevitable. It’s to be expected. But, this embarrassment that I feel as a result of that is something that I have to overcome, it’s something that this blog helps me with everyday.
I am Liv. I am a caring daughter, sister, aunt, and niece. My love for others and for the world is going to be what leads me on my future journey to the Peace Corps. My emotional intelligence grants me with gifts of insight, wisdom and the ability to love deeply. My strength is what has allowed me to overcome the pain of childhood abuse, middle school bullying, and the loss of my father to the darkness of severe mental illness. My tenacity may one day be what ends the stereotyping of beautiful, amazing, priceless, women who happen to be effected by an eating disorder.