Day #21 - Healers with Heart

There have been many "healers" on my journey to health that I could talk about today.  So many wonderful professionals, in their own different ways, have given me different pieces of recovery that have, as a whole, finally (or darn near close) made me well.  I am so lucky and blessed to have been able to work with so many amazing people while on this journey to wellness, but I knew without a doubt today that I needed to write about my current therapist, as I believe that she has played the most intricate role in my recovery:

Healers with heart...

Dear Owner of the Immortal Ugly Scarf,

Today, I have something simple to offer you - and that is my gratitude.  When I first shuffled into your office nearly three years ago, I was a shell of a human being, or, as I often refer to myself back then - a robot.  I tried to convince you I didn't need you or anyone else or anything.  My walls were sky-high, and I was determined not to let you or anyone in.

Photos - Mila sportin the Immortal Ugly Scarf

But, slowly, you helped me kick those walls in, even when it left us both tired and exhausted and frustrated.  I remember first learning to trust you when Kendall died, because you were there for me wholly and simply and unequivocally, and you didn't flinch away from my grief, like so many others did.  You have showed me that it is possible to have a therapist who not only cares like hell but who also maintains boundaries.  You have showed me that it is possible to laugh and have fun and joke, even when going through something as hellish and heartbreaking as an eating disorder.

You have kicked me.  Literally.  (It didn't hurt, though.  :)  And you have also proverbially kicked my ass, and refused to allow me to settle for my eating disorder. (It's a DAMN consolation prize, as Dr. B would say...)  You have pushed me to the brink of what I thought I could handle, but in doing that, you helped me tap that deep reservoir of strength and resilience and POWER I never knew I had.

You have told me often that I can piss you off, I can frustrate you, but that I can never ever do anything that would make you stop caring about me.  And while that surprises me, because isn't everything in life so fickle? -- it also comforts me and gladdens me and gives me faith that the rest of humanity might not suck, because if you care, maybe others do too.

Now, nearly three years later, I still need you, but I need you in a different way.  I no longer need you to tell me that my anorexia is going to kill me if I don't get my act together, or that I'm a dramatic whiner when I'm complaining about weight gain, (butbutbut weight gain succcckkkkked!) but I need you to remind me that recovery is sustainable, and that it is worth it.  I need you to help me work on the more serious issues underneath the sufacey behavior stuff, to really clean the gunk out of my life once and for all.

When I walk into your office now, I am healthy, and I have reclaimed Life, and there isn't anything about me that's robotic!  And I am so happy that I am finding my way, and that you have been the one to help me find it.  I am happy I have you, because I really and truly believe I wouldn't be in recovery without you - sure, I may have found it some way, somehow along the way, but probably in like a gajillion years from now when I was like 65 and still sportin' a tube and children's size pants.  And that would suck.  Children's pants never!  Big girl sizes forever!

So, you're da raddest.  Thanks for saving me.  Or, rather, showing me how to save myself.

Sincerely,
Brie

New House Adventure Week 12

Hi kittens,

I'm feeling all kinds of out of sorts and glum and just not myself today, so you'll get a rather unenthusiastic house update.

Things are moving along well.  They have completely framed the basement and the main floor, and in about a week we're hoping that the 2nd floor will be completed, and most everything else too, in the framing department.

Here are a bunch of pics.  You'll notice that the first set of pics and the latter set of pics were taken on different days, so it's kind of fun to notice how much more progress had been made during the 2nd day of pics.

Hello from the garage!

Walking through the front door for the first time...

Brandon looking out of our beautiful soon to be bay window/door.  I love this feature because it is going to add SO MUCH light into the house!

Standing in our pantry...heeeee-eeey....

I had to get a picture by the bay window too because I love it so much I want to take it behind the junior high school and get it pregnant!

A back view of the bay window, from the back yard.

I'm humping our garage.  I do stuff like that.

All these pics were taken a few days later, so you can see so much more has been done!

It was mutha effin freezing that day.  Soooo windy and my eyes were watering so I don't look very cute/happy/whatever.

In these last two pics you can see Cade and Brandon and my dad walking in the backyard.  They were discussing manly things like fencing and installing sprinklers.  I kind of die a little when I have to even think about stuff like that!  So, leaving it up to The Men it is.

So here it is.  I feel bummed that *I* feel so bummed that I can't properly give this post the enthusiasm it deserves.  I am just draggin today, guys.  I need some love and encouragement and maybe some good vibes and pelvic thrusts done to cheer me up.  Get going!  ;)

Day #20 - The Sound of Silence

Today's challenge resonates with me very deeply.  For so long in my eating disorder, I was silent - or, to be more accurate, I didn't have a voice.  I'm going to try to use my voice today.  I'm going to try to be brave.

The sound of silence...

I am young and I don't use my voice because trying to be heard over the din and hum drum of all of my siblings is an exercise in futility.  I am young and I don't use my voice because I am not sure anybody will think what I have to say is interesting.  I am young and I am silent because scary things happen (as they happen to all of us in life) but they leave me feeling confused and ashamed and insecure, and I think that I need to keep quiet about all of these things, so that Mom and Dad will still love me, and so that Jesus will too, so that I can go to Heaven.

I'm a little older now.  I keep my silence because it is so easy to; the habit is deeply ingrained in me.  Instead I use my body to speak for me; my bones and the hollows and grooves of my collarbone and ribs that say I AM SCARED HELP HELP HELP ME.  I have scars all over my body that say I AM NOT OKAY I AM HURTING SO MUCH AND I DESERVE THIS PAIN BUT I WISH I HAD SOMEONE WHO COULD SHOW ME ANOTHER WAY.

But still, I keep my silence.

But, I talk.  Of course I talk!   But in between all the words that make sentences, and the sentences that form conversations, and all the fake smiles and meaningless hugs, the silence sits heavily on my shoulder.  My silence sounds something like this:

"Oh hi!  I'm fine.  How are you?"
or
"Nothing much is going on, I guess, just same old same old.  What about you?"
or
"Thanks for asking, but I think I'm going to stay home tonight.  But have fun!"

When I really could have been saying...

"I'm not okay.  I'm dying.  I want to die.  Help me."
or
"So much is happening and I am confused and scared about it  I hurt myself and I don't eat and I can't stop and I'm afraid something very bad is going to happen."
or
"Oh, I'd love to hang out with you.  I'm scared, because being around a lot of people makes me nervous, but I'd like to try.  Thanks so much for thinking of me."

It's so interesting this came up as a prompt today, because just this last Friday in therapy, my therapist and I were talking about how I still struggle, after all this time, to use my voice.  I've seen my therapist for almost three years now, and I absolutely adore her, but even now, I'll often come to therapy with my walls up.  I look at the ground and don't make eye contact.  I'm shifty.  I'm quiet.  I give monosyllabic answers to her questions.  And I don't WANT to do these things.  I am aware I am doing this, and I'm screaming inside.  I'm screaming, PLEASE GET ME TO TALK!  DON'T SETTLE FOR MY SILENCE!  HELP ME NOW!

and--
usually she does.  Thank God, she knows me, and she knows that my silence is killing me, and she helps me break that silence.  In fact, just this Friday, because I was having such a hard time articulating what I needed to say, my T suggested I write her an email and tell her what was going on, because she knows that often the written word is so much easier for me to express myself rather than by verbalizing it.  And I took her up on her offer gratefully, and then I proverbially puked out the longest email ever.  But, as I was writing it, I was crying, because it felt so good to use my voice (even over email) and break my silence.

I am learning more and more that my eating disorder is tied to shame and the shame is what keeps me silent.  I am learning that if I can verbalize my shame and look at it realistically, and thus help it diminish, then I can be well on my way to kicking the eating disorder behaviors for good.  And even though I know all this, it is still insanely difficult for me to use my voice.  I've been long out of the habit, and so it is scary, and it is hard.

But I am beginning to believe that I have something important to say.
And it's time to break the silence.
And say it.
Just say it.
And I'll be okay.


[Another darn post that made me cry!]

Mila Meets the Pool

This afternoon our builder invited us to a BBQ and a pool party to kick off the start of summer.  We thought, free food, free pool, why not?

Even though it was only about 72 degrees, they had warmed up the pool enough that it was just lovely.  I didn't actually swim, as donning the bathing suit felt a little too daunting today, but Brandon took the kids in the pool.  It was Mila's first time EVER in a pool, and she LOVED it.  She also debuted The Swim Cap, too, and there were sooooo many oohs and aahs and people running to me to ask where I procured it.  She looked so cute!

Here are some pics:

Day #19 - Write a Love Life Limerick

Sweet Jiminy Cricket, I haven't written a limerick since I was in 4th grade!  And there's a reason for it - this sucks!  Sorry my poem is mediocre, I just composed it in .4758 seconds.  Pfffft.  I'm off to eat at Cheesecake Factory.  That's much more fun!

Write a love life limerick...

When you recover life will be so sublime
enough that you'll even stoop to a rhyme
and then you'll exclaim,
"Yeah Bitches!  Life was lame
but all this toiling and strife was so worth the climb!"

Day #18 - Changing Places

Changing places...

You've heard a lot from me.  But you've never heard anything from Brandon.  Brandon doesn't have a blog, and he rarely comments, so you don't often get to see how awesome and supportive he is of me, except when I mention it in my posts, from time to time.  So, in light of the prompt today, and on getting someone else's perspective on what it's like to watch someone go through an eating disorder, I asked Brandon to take a couple minutes and blog for me on what it was like for him to watch me go through this.  It's pretty amazing.

Here's what he has to say:

From the time I met Brie I knew two things about her: she had a lot of difficult issues to work through, and that an amazing woman was buried under all of those issues. For me I knew those things to be facts and I also knew that one day she would dig herself out of the mess and the garbage and that she would soar.

The first several years of my marriage were very hard for me, and I suppose I knew they would be. Constant trips to the ER for a huge spectrum of reasons. Sending my wife to inpatient treatment more than once. Watching her hate herself and hurt herself. Not being near the front of the line in terms of things that were the most important to her. Needing to pull most if not all the weight solely myself and heap mounds and mounds of patience into the marriage. While these things sound terrible, and they are, I can tell you why I was able to endure them day after day, year after year. I knew these things were not part of my wife, they were part of her disease. And I knew she had within her what it would take to conquer and eradicate the thing. I could always see her real value.

She has almost done it, and she didn’t do it overnight, and she hasn’t done it in full. My marriage is much different now. She is kicking the crap out of her disease, and in my head I see her standing on top of the heap of problems that used to bury her, and figuring out how to dust off and remove herself from it completely. At any moment she will sprout wings and she will absolutely soar. What used to be buried under piles and piles of bad things, is now standing on top of the piles, breathing more free than she has since she was just a little kid. What is that like for me? The things I mentioned about have changed, yes. Very infrequent hospital visits, no inpatient treatment, no self-harm or self-hatred. I have a rejuvenated wife that has made it clear to me that I am right at the front of the line in terms of what is important to her. I have a wife that likes to laugh. I have a wife that is willing to take weight off of me and carry it. I have a wife that is wholly dedicated to giving her children pure love, as well as me. To me the difference is about as contrasting as anything could be. 

Thanks honey.  Thanks for loving me, and for being patient.  I couldn't have done it without you. 

Not even close. 

Thank you for seeing in me what I never knew I had in me. 

Day #17 - Attitude Makeover

Attitude makeover...

When I was thinking about what kind of attitude makeover I could use, the first thing that popped into the good old cerebrum was that I need PATIENCE.

And lots of it.

I've NEVER been a patient person.  Ever.  When I want something, I want it now.  When I want to do something, I want to do it now.  Not tomorrow.  Not a week from now.  NOW.

In fact, the most recent thing that has tried my patience was over some stupid makeup.  I bought some makeup at the Lancome counter, and they asked me if I wanted to get a gift with purchase.  I thought, great!  More for my money!  Of course I want to do this.  But then, I was told that I couldn't pick up my gift with purchase OR the makeup I had just bought for over two weeks, because it wasn't until then that the gift with purchase promotion started.  So I thought, get the makeup now, awesome, but then I don't get all this free stuff.  It was agonizing to make this decision, but I finally did, and I decided to wait to get the free gift with purchase.  And it was the longest two weeks of my life.  I almost died.

I think this has affected my eating disorder recovery a little bit, because, oh you know, it's taken me a DECADE to recover.  With someone with little to no patience, this decade has been more like a century.  Because the whole I want it NOW thing has really, really had to wait.  A long time.

And, because I have no patience, I've blamed myself a lot that I couldn't just get better faster.  I've been told over and over by treatment professionals that recovery takes a stinkin long time and a lot of work and patience, but it still has really sucked.  I've gotten impatient and frustrated with myself.  Instead of letting it be, I just get upset with myself.  Start blaming.  And that's never a good headspace to be in.

I also recognize that I need to be more patient with others - in many areas, but I am talking specifically about having patience with others in relation to eating disorder recovery.  Because I am part of the ED blogging community, and because I've been in treatment a gajillion times, I have obviously met A LOT of people with ED's.  And I've met a lot of people who are not yet ready or willing to recover.

And, I'm going to admit it:  sometimes I get frustrated that people don't really try or don't really want to recover more quickly.  And yes, I understand that I am wrong to think this, and I understand that I need to have this whole patience thing, but I do get frustrated when I see people continuously wallow in their eating disorder misery, and don't do anything about it.  I think, If you're so miserable, then why don't you try to get out of it?!  I guess I just so badly want people to feel the utter joy and freedom that I feel, now that I am in recovery.

And yes, I know that there are many reasons, most pretty complex, as to why someone stays in their eating disorder even though they are damn near dead and utterly miserable.  And I get that.  But I am just admitting this on my blog, because we are talking about having an attitude makeover, and I am freely admitting some of my weaknesses.

And that is one of them.

But please don't think I am unempathic, because I'm not.  I care very deeply about all of you, and about your eating disorder recovery.  But sometimes I just have to keep my pesky impatience in check.  Because I care so much, I simply want you to have freedom and happiness, and as quickly as possible!  :)

So, patience.  I could really use an attitude makeover with this.  Anyone have some they want to share?  I could give you something in return...I could so an Irish jig for you, or a high kick, or I could warble the Star Spangled Banner for you.  Think about it.  It's cool.