Cheesy Tears, Periods, & a Little Poop

Been an emotional week for me friends.  Lots and lotsa crying.  I had one of those moments in therapy yesterday that left me feeling completely bereft and lonely and devastated - just really feeling the true depth of my low self-worth and goodness in this life and I just sobbed and sobbed, wishing I could be more. 

I've feared cries like those my whole life - you know, the kind of tears that are gut-wrenching and hurt as they leave you and leave you heaving for breath and wondering if the pain will ever end - but, inevitably, it always does.  And after the tears comes the release - the feeling of calm and maybe not necessarily  immediate "okay-ness" but knowing that eventually, in the end, everything is going to be alright.  And I'm learning that running from the tears doesn't make everything okay, and it doesn't make the pain disappear, but allowing yourself the honor to feel those emotions and giving yourself a chance to actually feel and not be some lifeless, perfect robot is what is real and beautiful in this life.  I'm learning this.  It's painful but it's also breathtaking and awe inspiring.  :)  (Did I really just say it was an "honor" to cry?  What am I turning into my mother?  I.NEED.HELP.)

So away from the gushy emotional stuff, and on to a funny story:
So my sister M was telling us a story of how one of her neighbors, upon hearing that her daughter had started the P word, (read: menstruation) to celebrate with her daughter, (and incidentally I'm sure HORRIFY her) she took her to a clothing store and told her she could buy a RED outfit - you know, like, in honor of bleeding? (Stay with me people, this is a TRUE STORY.)  I was eating dinner when I heard this story, and I was like, "I'm ssssssssso not hungry anymore," and then the Husband was like, "Man, that's horrible.  That would be like my dad taking me to buy the tallest hat he could find after I told him I had my first boner."
BAHAHAHA
That is why I love my man.

What else?  Went to the gardens at Thanksgiving Pointe today.  It was lovely.  Whit pulled the mini-man in a wagon and I pushed Baby Penny (I nanny twice a week) and it was all grand and a smashin' good time until my kid diarrhea-d in his PANTS.  Like this liquid green goo was all over and I had to throw his Lightning Mcqeen underpants in the garbage and YES he's currently going commando and I had to wipe smelly crap off his thighs and squishy little butt and my pits and boobies were sweatin' and I was like IT'S TIME TO GO HOME.  Being a mom is awesome.

Had a really fun weekend with Bananas - she came to visit me allllll the way from CA.  We ate and got pedi's and ate and painted pottery (mine looks like CRAP) and ate some more and laughed a lot and had a really really grand time.  :)  It was so awesome of her to come out just to visit lil' old me.

Not much else going on.  Just wuv you guys.
Kisses.

A Senseless Tragedy

My aunt and uncle's nephew was murdered yesterday in an absolutely devastating and senseless tragedy.  Please pray for them and for the family and loved ones of the deceased.  May God be with them.

Read more about it --> here <--

Took Me a Little Longer than Most

Things over here have been averagely okay with a lot of busyness thrown in there and a touch of crazy. I am spending HOURS a day now on my book project and don’t have much time (or energy) for much else aside from the requisite tickle fight with my mini man and some facebook playing. (Yes, it took awhile, but I’ll admit, I am finally addicted to facebook. Le sigh.) I spend hours sitting in this chair, in front of this computer and notebook (with my notes and outline for the book in it) staring into space and wishing that the popcorn there on the table wasn’t burnt and that my Diet Coke would refill itself. And when I’m not wondering about that suuuuper important stuff, I’m writing my book of course – I’ll get in spurts of inspiration and pound out paragraphs on my keyboard before lapsing back into a writer’s coma.

By the way, thanks to all who participated in the survey – you have no idea how much you helped us. We received well over 200 entries and are so grateful for the input. So. You’re da bombest! By the way, I may be periodically asking you for help and input on certain aspects of my book, so I hope it’s alright if I ask at times for volunteers to share their insight and experiences with me. Please and thank you in advance.

So I still have no idea what’s going on with my dietary shiz and the ultimatum I was given, etc. I was basically told that I can’t know all the answers about my treatment goals weight-wise because a lot of those questions are just me wanting my eating disorder to know what the H bomb is going on and that’s just letting the eating disorder win and be in control blah blah blah so just trust us and trust the process blah. So I’m trying. I dunno. Honesty moment? It’s like hard. Like, really really hard. BUT at the same time, I do know that I want recovery and I want to do this right this time and I really like and trust my treatment team so I’m going to try to, you know, let go and let God. Or at any rate let go and let my treatment team take (or DRAG) me down this path of recovery. I know God loves me but I can’t imagine he’d wish the hellacious torture on me known as 6 Boost Pluses a day. Shivers.

You know what else I’m finally figuring out? Working through the emotional overgrowth that leads to/contributes to an ED is
SO MUCH
harder than even the food and weight gain stuff. I don’t think I ever thought I’d admit that, because it’s so much easier to moan and groan about gaining weight and eating enough to feed Dumbo and his kinky girlfriend, but that’s not even half the battle. Working through my eewy eewy grossy goo is a lot harder and a lot more emotionally expending. And when I feel all my emotions…with no buffer for them, like hunger or weight loss…man it’s hard. I guess this is what being an adult and growing up is like – facing your problems head on and solving them rather than collapsing in a hysterical heap on the floor. I mean I do that too sometimes because it’s so FUN but really I don’t think it’s very conducive to living, you know, a stable life.
So.
It took a little longer for me than most…but I’m glad I’m figuring this stuff out now. It’s time I grow up.

Time to go now…been writing for hours and my brain is FRIED.

Meet my Partner in Crime

I’d like to introduce to you my friend and co-author of our book…er…Untitled.
Meet Shelly.
The Shell-Meister.
Shell Biscuits (only you can’t call her that because ONLY I CAN).

Shelly’s awesome. She’s in recovery from a very serious eating disorder herself and is seasoned, like me, in the ins and outs of inpatient treatment for an eating disorder and related addictions. She has a lot of wit and insight to add to the book and it’s going to be really, really great. Seriously you guys, we’re so excited!  But, of course, she's much more than an eating disorder.  She's sarcastic and witty and funny as hell and kind and I totes admire her for all the hard work she's done to get where she is today.  She's da raddest.
So, please check out her blog here so that you can get to know her more.

And if you hate her, then I HATE YOU so be nice.  :P

We Need Your Help!

EVERYONE!

Plllleeeeaaassssse take (literally) less than a minute to fill out this survey Co-Author and I have created.  We want to get a feel for what people would be interested in reading, if we were to publish this book we're working on.  The survey only has 5 questions, it's multiple choice so you can't get too confuzzled, and it would greatly help us!  And, since the survey is completely anonymous, please be as absolutely honest as possible.  After all, it *is* the best policy.

Click --> HERE <-- to take the survey.
And please leave any additional thoughts and comments here!

Kisses.

Write This Very Minute

I'm a total NEGLECTER of information.  I forgot to tell you one of the main reasons why I quit my job in July, other than, what was it?  "The Man can suck it?"
Oh yes.
I'M GOING BACK TO SCHOOL!

Yes, that's right.  :)  In January '11 I'll be going back to finish my degree in English Lit with an emphasis in Writing, to hopefully work in the publishing industry when I graduate.

This decision feels right and so so good and so so scary!  But I know I was meant for more than this. 

Also...
Can't say much now, because we're just in the wee germination stage, but a friend and I (not going to tell you who she is until she gives me permission) are in the works for co-authoring a FABULOUS book.  In fact, we're meeting in an hour to go over logisitics.  BUT she is absolutely amazing and a fabulous writer and we could really reach and help a lot of people with our voice.  We both have amazing stories to tell.

Cade starts preschool next month so that gives me at least 8 hours a week to focus on my writing.  I know that's not a lot but I'll take what I can get, so as he goes to preschool I'll head to a cafe to focus on my book.  I need to stop just talking about writing my book, and actually start writing it!

So, suffice it to say, this book we're thinking of starting is going to be absolute MURDERATION.  Stay tuned for more info!

Oh, Now Mama's Okay

I smoothed the whole pesky "I may have to go private" sitch over.  So, for now, you shall all continue to be gloriously blessed by my public blog.  Can't always promise it'll remain that way, but for now, I think I talked to the person in question and worked some stuff out.  This may require me to edit a bit what I want to say and how I want to say it, but for now, I'll live with that.  I'm having way too much fun rediscovering blogging to give it up now.

Phew for a crisis averted!

Crying: It's *My* Lost Art Form

I'm not really the kind of person that wears their heart on their sleeve.  I don't often show emotion - I am always the chick smiling and  cracking a 'yo mama joke.  I'm mad?  Oh, I'll just smile.  Sad?  I've got a joke ready.  Anxious?  A "no, I'm totally fine" will escape my  lips.

This irks my therapist to no end because I try as hard as I can to have the same laid back, "it's all good" demeanor in therapy.  It isn't always easy to get work done when I have a joke ready at every turn.  But I can't help it.  It's just the way I am.

I'd say for the past month or so, I have cried more in therapy than I ever have, but when I cry, I like cover up my face with my hands and curl up in some pretzel-like ball and cry like I'm ashamed of it.  Because I am.

I did it again today in therapy.  In fact I was trying so hard not to cry, I was pretty close to working myself up to a nice, old-fashioned, panic attack - you know, cue the numb extremities and the shallow breathing and the muted cursing.  My hands were flitting around nervously and I was looking around restlessly (everywhere but AT my therapist) and my foot was jiggling a gazillion miles a minute and it was like FOR HELLZ SAKES BRIE, JUST CRY!  I think I'm discovering I make a bigger fool out of myself by not crying, than by actually shedding an errant tear or two in therapy because of how worked up I make myself.  Sometimes not crying is actually a real task.

So after I had a good cry, (yes, the tears won) and maneuvered myself out of my pretzel to surface for air, my therapist could have reacted in one of two different ways:
She could have made fun of me.  Because hell, let's be honest, she makes fun of me all the time, and my Pretzel Cry of Despair was kind of funny.
Or
She could take the high road, and not crack a joke for once, and tell me she was really proud of all the work I'm doing in therapy, and that she knows I've been through a lot this past year, more than most ever have to go through, what with recovering from my ED, and mourning the loss of my daughter, and dealing with all the goo that made me have an ED in the first place, and Some Other Stuff I Don't Want to Talk About on My  Blog, etc.  She could tell me that I'm amazingly strong, and that she wasn't just "saying that."

She took the high road.  And that felt really, really good to hear all that.  :)

So what's the next step in this whole "I'm uncomfortable and don't cry or show emotion" journey?
Yep, you guessed it.  A VIDEO OF ME CRYING.  Wouldn't ya'll just LOVE to watch a video of me on this blog crying for like 33 minutes of un-cut, un-edited TEARS and EMOTION and DRAMA and SNOT?  That would certainly be a way to push this strict no crying phobia I've got...

Hrrrm...
Something to ponder.

For now, I'll continue just cracking jokes and wiping my tears and snot in private.
Sound good?

Oh, Now Mama's Mad

Okay, so I know that my blog is on a very public forum, and a ton of people read it.  I know that people who kind of know me, or knew me when I was like in frickin' preschool read it, or maybe I'm a friend of a friend's uncle's cousins ex-girlfriend or something.  More people have found me than I probably even want to know.  So I know that when stuff happens like what happened today, I should be prepared for it.  I should think to myself, "Hey Brie, you knew that when starting a blog, a lot of your very private life and private struggles will become much more public.  So you need to deal with it." 

And I've been okay with that.  I feel like I've helped a lot of you, or at the very least made some of you laugh or become a cautionary tale or whatever so sharing my personal and serious and witty and hilarious and pathetic stories with you has become totally worth it, and dare I say - even fun.

But today.  OH, TODAY.

My privacy has been breached.  I think I may need to go private.
What do I do?

Menial Things, Really

I'm really in the mood to blog right now which is so weird because I honestly haven't had the urge in what, 3, 4 months?  Not sure what's come over me.  Just feel like rambling I guess, I've got a lot going on.

Who here watches and loves Mad Men?  I've heard that it's amazing, and I think Big B and I are finally going to start the series tonight.  If it's boring I blame you.  Or maybe all those status updates on FB saying otherwise.

I think for the past several months (since I stopped writing on my blog consistently) but really even more for the past month, I've really been isolating myself.  I don't mean to...I just get absorbed in my own drama and kind of do my own thang.  My mom noted today that I seem "pensive."  I don't think I'm pensive so much as just...I dunno...distracted.  And if I'm not distracted, I'm really full and sick from all the Boost and food I'm shoveling in, and that of course gets me thinking about my body image that can't get any lower unless it goes straight to Hell, and then I think about the size of my pants and all my glorious FLESH.  Shivers.

ANYWAY.  What I'm trying to say is that I'm TRYING to get out of this funk I'm in and get out of my hole and actually start interacting with the world.  Blogging is one of the ways in which I am trying to do this.

You know, I'm really liking life as a stay at home mama, but I'll admit that I sometimes stop what I'm doing in a day and am like, HOLY OH MY MOLY I'M BORED.  Especially right around 3:00, 3:30.  It's awful.  It's like all I can think about is how lovely it would be to take a nap and turn Spongebob on for The Kid.  I mean we've usually already gone out for the day and gone to the pool or the park or something, and the hour or two before Bster comes home is just S L O W.  Any ideas on what to do in the afternoon when I desperately need a second wind?  That seems to be the hardest time for me.

I hate that at 26, I can still act like I'm 5.  Mad at myself.  Mad, though, at other people who act like immature kids too.  Can't really expound much on this but yeah, just frustrated.

Blogging didn't really take the Gloomies away any.  That sucks.
Although this emo alpaca helped.  Bahaha.

Fun at Silver Lake

This afternoon my family decided to take the kids up to Silver Lake in Big Cottonwood Canyon.  It was so beautiful!  We had a quick picnic lunch (sorry but my limp ham sandwich didn't really Do It for me) then strolled around the lake.  Since you haven't seen any pics in eons, I thought I'd post a few:

This pic made me laugh because OF COURSE my child is the only one that won't eat.  He looks so pathetic at the end of the table there...

Finally got him to nosh on a pumpkin chocolate chip cookie...

My insanely fun and beautiful niece M.  I ♥ her.

They had a walkway over the marshy area so I didn't have to worry about actually roughing it and heaven forbid getting my flip-flops wet.  Downside to the marsh?  DRAGON FLIES.  I fled in fear of my life more than once from those giant 3 inchers with bulbous heads!  Gross.

Pretty, right?

Cade, and his niece L and his nephew C looking at the fishies.

My darling niece P mugging for the camera.  Isn't she the MOST adorbs thing you've ever seen?  (This is how big Kendall would be...oh my heart...)

This duck was lame and a total loner.  I kind of felt bad for him.

Okay so my face isn't that fantastic looking.  But at least I'm tan, right?

Oh how I love my brand new body...haha my thighs are like EXPLODING out my pants!

Had a total blast with my fam.  I'm kinda gloomy about the summer already being nearly over...

Dissecting the Ultimatum

When W, the T, gave me the ultimatum: to gain the last of my weight by Sept 1st, or else I'm fired, I was in shock.  Aghast.  Floored.  It seemed like such an overly dramatic way to get me to gain a little weight.  I mean, couldn't she look at me and see how fine I was?  How, like, big?

So I spent awhile being mad.  Like really mad. 
And then I spent a little while (okay a long while) being really scared.  Because I know that I can't maintain my recovery YET without my trusty T and D.  I was terrified of losing them because I know that at this point, without them, I would very likely slowly lose weight and end back up at square one: severe anorexia.  I understood that I stood to lose a lot more than just my therapist if she fired me.

But after I got mad, and then I let myself feel the fear, I got ready.  I prepared myself to do whatever it took to reach my goal weight.  I readied myself for some really awful days ahead, and a lot of discomfort and anxiety about gaining weight, then just decided, quite simply, to do it.

And so I am.  And you know what?  IT'S SO HARD.  I've cried a lot.  I've been in physical pain because of how much I have to eat (and drink Boost) to gain.  But I'm so glad I'm doing it.

Because by reaching my goal weight in a couple short weeks, I also stand to gain a lot more than just being able to keep my treatment team:  I'll gain the confidence to know that I can do this recovery thing without having to go inpatient.  I think I'll gain a little self-respect and hey, maybe even a little self-esteem.  And I'll finally prove to myself and everyone else that I can do this.  That I can stop the games and the bull crap and just commit to recovery.  And that feels so freaking good.

So, three weeks ago, when I was given this ultimatum, I was cursing my therapist for her pure, unadulterated EVIL.  But now?  Now I think I might just be thanking her for her genius. 

Funny how that works, eh?

So Where the H Bomb Have I Been?

Hey friends!

So much has happened.  Let's do a little quickie:

I quit my job!  This is momentous!  I worked at [Healthcare Company] for over three years, and, in June, I was like, "I'm bored!  Work is lame!  The Man can suck it!"  So...I put in my three weeks notice (an extra week cuz I"m so generous) and, in the first week of July, I said goodbye to my job forever.

What have I been doing in the meantime?

Going to the pool.  Seriously guys, I'm so effin' tan.  You should see my knees.  Yes, my knees.  For some reason they tan a wee bit more than the rest of my bod, and they are now 9/10 African American.   Cade, Bestie, (that would be Whit) and I go usually 4-5 times a week and soak up the vitamin D.  It's been glorious.  :)

I've also just been having a really fun time being a stay at home mama and focusing on mommy-hood.  Cade's never really had a chance to have his mama home full-time.  I went IP at CFC when he was four months old, and then when I got out, I started working right away, so the little guy has never had a real chance to hear his mama in the morning say, "Whaddya want for breakfast, kid, and don't make it anything hard like OATMEAL or PANCAKES  ...What?  You want cereal?  Coming right up!"  ...And, I think he's really loving it too, though I'll admit he misses going to my sister's house to be babysat every day because her kids are his besties and he misses his "fwiends" (and pancakes).  But all in all life in our little house on the prairie is going swell. (Although the downside to staying at home all day?  THE CLEANING.  OH.MY.YUCK.)

ED-wise, I'm doing fricktastic.  "Frick" meaning I've gained a lot of weight and am kinda sorta panicking about that maybe a leeeetttle, and "tastic" being that I know it's a great! and fabulous! and wonderful! and necessary! thing.  It royally sucks bizalls though; my treatment team gave me an ultimatum about 3 weeks ago that entailed me HAVING to gain the rest of my weight by September 1st or else this chick is CANNED.  Fired.  Finito.  Done. 
Effers. 
I was so pissed.  It's not like I was deathly underweight or anything, we're talking I was under by only a few ell bees, so to be given an ultimatum was kind of embarrassing.  But my therapist was getting tired of me gaining a little, then losing a little, so, she said, quite bluntly, and I quote, "SHIT OR GET OFF THE CAN."
So I'm shitting. 
I mean this literally.  I'm drinking over 2000 cals a day in Boost on Steroids ALONE.  My metabo is so revved up I'm pizooing like TWICE A DAY.  It's INSANITY.

I think I decided to start blogging again because, yeah, I miss you guys, but you know what I think I miss even more?  Writing.  Holy moly with some guacamole I miss sitting at my laptop and letting the words just flow outta me.  Writing is soooooo therapeutic for me, and I think I lose touch with part of myself when I stop writing.  And, the support I get from all of you is HUGE.  You guys seriously give me like a little more than half the self-esteem I've got.  You're da raddest.

So I'm back.  I missed you.  Let's hug and never part again, m'kay?
LOVE YOU.

Breathe Baby Breathe!

I miss you guys.
This whole not blogging thing is a giant bucket 'o yuck.
Tomorrow? (or the next day...)
A full recap updating you on everything that's been going on.  I think Blogxygen needs to start breathing again. 
It's been far too long.