REMEMBER

I haven’t written in awhile so this might be a little long…. I left IOP the first week in May. The only reason I did it past March was because insurance was covering it. Anyway, I did well for almost three weeks and then everything fell apart. First let me sum up the main reasons for the relapse: 1- I had never felt as alone as I did at the beginning of the summer, and continued to feel 2- The trauma last summer at RO wasn’t really resolved in cw. I had decided to just stop caring and live the best life I could, knowing that would involve drugs and my eating disorder. I decided to start iop soon after the trauma to hopefully change that, but ultimately as much as I hoped that it did, or that new things I realized would have helped, they didn’t. I still felt pretty much like giving up. So I started to. Oh- and I felt like I could finally get rid of the amount of weight I had gained that spring and not be freaked out about being kicked out of treatment. The reasons I felt alone were complicated. I had made some great friends at school who were fun to hang out with, but after that spring semester we all went our separate ways in classes. I didn’t have all of my friends in my classes anymore, and it was almost impossible to do anything with them because we all had practicum starting in the summer. I feel like I lost a lot of positive fun people that truly made me happy. I had left iop, which although good, meant that I had much less support than I had had in a year. I didn’t have my iop therapist or the other staff who I have known for a LONG time and who have been such a big part of my healing. I realized that there were some people who I had gotten INCREDIBLY close with, who seemed to think that once they were doing well they were above everyone else. And even when I was doing well, I didn’t want to be around people who thought like that. But I basically felt far away from those friends. I also had to be careful about being around my friends who weren’t doing well, at least when it affected me negatively. The summer was really hard for a number of reasons. I had my first practicum, which wasn’t terrible, but took up a lot of time and made me hopeless at times because of the way the staff didn’t really seem to care about the clients. On some level the restricting gave me something to think about while I was there- something else to focus on, so that I could get through that practicum. There was a fire in my hometown that was pretty bad and ended up burning over 350 homes. It was hard to keep seeing it get worse. To know that my mom and friends could get hurt fighting it. To not be able to be there for my family and in a weird way, my town. It was hard thinking that I could have had to decide what to pack up if my house were to some reason be in danger. It was pretty scary. I felt alone too because I felt like I was losing my sister. I’m not sure if it was just me. I know she is busy. I am too. But I felt like she was distancing herself and didn’t really care much about me anymore either. It felt like she didn’t care anymore about being close to me of even sisters. I KNOW that’s not true, but it felt true. The summer reminded me of all of the people I lost last summer, especially because I stayed with my family that had lost their daughter, and my cousin, last summer to suicide. We only stayed with them one night on our way to Canada but it was weird. And all of the people I almost lost. It reminded me of how close I was to losing about five other people than the five that I actually did. It reminded me of what happened at RO last summer and how much I still felt no one really understood. I got really really sick over the summer. The fastest relapse I’ve ever had. (and really the only one, seeing as I hadn’t done well until treatment…). I had a lot of tests to figure out what was wrong but ultimately a lot of things were just screwey because of the restricting. I think people expected me to fall apart when my therapist left, and yeah it was hard. She is the only therapist I’ve really seen and changed my life in so many ways. People at support group kept saying things we because of that or that something was going to happen. And it didn’t. Maybe it’s because I don’t like people to know how I’m really doing- good or bad. Maybe it’s because people don’t REALLY know me. Because I don’t let them. Either way, it was annoying. Yet kinda funny. People thought after my family vacation that my life would fall apart. It DIDN’t. Imagine that! I actually had one of the worst traumas of my life happen in August after I got back from my trip. And only six people even know about it. I KNOW that was a lot of what happened this semester unfortunately. I was doing better again late July and most of August before that. I actually saw two different people in June in order to see if there was someone I could see instead of my therapist. She did a lot of things that were incredibly frustrating and I really started to just be done. Of course, no one knew that. I'm not really sure why, but I didn't want to tell anyone... When she actually left at the beginning of August I had an interesting experience. I got MAD. Not mad at her for leaving- just MAD at her and the treatment center and everyone I felt ike I could finally be mad at without it mattering. And that was so freeing. I could actually let myself FEEL the emotions I was about people without it mattering. Because if I was feeling that way there must be a reason,-even if it was me. I was already alone- I didn’t care if they left, especially when I was able to really feel again.I realized that maybe I had to be alone in order to find the people who would ultimately make me not feel that way. Anyway, my Intimate Partner Violence class was really hard. And this is going to sound stupid on some level. But it helped me a lot. The first day I cried for two hours when I got home. I cried because even though I wasn’t currently in an abusive relationship, I was still getting hurt in similar ways. It was still happening, and I WAS LETTING IT. I snapped. I am SO incredibly fucking sick of people hurting me. Of feeling like people step on me. I’m sick of being there for people who aren’t there for me. I’m sick of keeping people in my life who don’t really care. I’m sick of keeping people who are immature in my life. I decided I was DONE. I told a few of the guys in my life they needed to back off, and that I wasn’t ok with their immaturity anymore. And they all flipped out in a stupid immature way, when I never even really knew them. It was SO dumb. Especially them proving me right…at least try to not be that obvious.... I decided that the only way I was actually going to be happy was to have good relationships. It is the only time I’ve ever really been happy in the past and maybe I needed to feel alone and see that I could be alone and without certain people. I am tired of being around ppl who I feel like use me, don’t care, abuse, walk on, need me too much, treat me like crap, or don’t understand who I really am. And the funny thing is how much people freaked out. How much they showed me EXACTLY what I had been talking about. I just kept thinking you should have done this earlier- if for no other reason than to realize that they were going to prove your point. I remember laughing with my friends over the ridiculous texts one of the guys I met ONCE sent me after I told him I wasn’t interested in him and didn’t have time unless he wanted to just be friends. He FLIPPED out. It was hilarious in the sense of HELLO THIS is what I’m talking about. And people just kept doing things like that. And all I know is that I have a sign on my wall right now to remind me to not let people into my life who don’t really care. To not be afraid to find the ones who make me happy. To remind me to listen to myself when it comes to relationships, because when I stop being around certain people I’ve realized they usually prove what I’ve been seeing in them. I HAVE to start trusting myself. I HAVE to start living and putting ME first. And one of the things I know makes me happiest and makes life worth living is relationships. When I was doing really well that was one of the main things I realized. One of the main things that allowed me to do well. And I’m getting that back. NO MATTER WHAT. And to remind me of everything I want in life- of the fact that I can’t keep letting people hurt me, Because THAT WAS ME that kept letting it happen. ME. Not them. I have a sign in my room - and that sign says: REMEMBER: THIS is why you left them. So now I’m still a little more depressed than usual. I’m still struggling sometimes with my ED and don’t have many people at school. I’m so ready for this semester to be over. I still haven’t found a permanent therapist, but I’m OK. I LOVE my practicum and WILL HAVE A JOB there in May ☺ I LOVE the people there. I go to Happy Hour on Fridays and play vball and run with them. We joke at lunch and play with the therapy dogs when they come in. We have inside jokes and ridiculous holiday parties. I LOVE being around them and although I still need a lot more people in my life, it’s a really good start. So it’s getting better. A LOT better. I’m excited to see what else I can do to find more people to be around. I’m excited to get closer to people. I know I’m still in a tricky place, but I know I can be a lot happier. I know I have a job I love. And I know I CAN have a good life- I just have to keep reminding myself of that… I have to keep remembering. "Stop worrying about what might hold you down, and start paying attention to why you are standing up" - anonymous

Fear

So...things are at least better than when I wrote the last post. Once I saw my therapist the next day I felt a little better. I was worried she was going to be mad but really I was worried she would tell me what I tell myself. That it's not hard to eat normally. That I always screw up. That I must just be trying to get attention. and on and on as I hear them when I say them to myself. Anyway the session went really well and for the second time EVER someone besides my first nutritionist talked me out of restricting... I even threw away my scale later that night. Eventually after I argued for awhile I agreed to write about the POSSIBILITY that I was self-sabataging... and as much as I hate admitting it, that might be true right now. I think things are really going generally pretty well especially considering only a year ago I tried to kill myself. I'm falling asleep but I'll update tomorrow about how well things are going and yet the new things I'm learning by being upset at the same time. I'm figuring out how to balance them.



"Stop worrying about what might hold you down, and start paying attention to why you are standing up" - anonymous

The Bad, and the Ugly

I was going to write two separate blogs for this but this is easier. There are a lot of things within the good aspects right now that I wish were different. But I really do have mostly good things happening and even a lot within myself. Which is why a lot of things don't make sense to me right now. I honestly don't want to write what I am about to. I want to wait until I figure my shit out and can end with some "But I know it will work out" type thing. But I SWORE to myself that this blog would be HONEST- no matter what.

I just had a major realization. I get pissed when I start doing worse right after leaving treatment. I get pissed because I'm not one of those people who just waits to leave to do badly so they can go back to treatment. That is not who I am. But I don't understand. I don't understand why it happens. But I think I just figured it out... After three months of being in treatment in 2008 I had my world shattered again. I had it shattered last Halloween by being assaulted, I had it shattered this summer by what happened at RO and I had a mini shatter in December when I had someone important who I think has never understood or really tried- someone who had said over and over that we would meet but it never happened, reminding me of who is really important, take someone else's words and twist them to try to scare me, or maybe just not understand- but his reaction did NOTHING but remind me of the truth- that I am really still in all of this shit alone. I am so INCREDIBLY SICK of feeling that way and feeling like it just keeps getting reinforced. Even though I don't think anyone knows that- or at least really understands that I'm not trying to make it about blaming them- that throughout all of this that has never really been the main issue.

Anyway, I just realized this morning that what is still happening, even four fucking years later, is that I feel like I can't struggle HONESTLY. I have to be ok enough to not get kicked out or have ultimatums or any sort of freak-out from anyone. I'm not lying, I'm doing exactly what I need to- but not always because I want to- because I HAVE to. I HAVE to so that I can guarantee nothing else will happen that will kill me just a little bit more. I HAVE to so that I can still work on trauma and as much of the ED as I can without being able to really struggle the ways that parts of me want to- without being able to work on the ED stuff that is still there. Because it CAN'T BE THERE. And if I have to ignore the aspects of what parts of me really wish I could do ED-wise, then I will never be as ok as I really could be. In 2009 I really just though I snapped back into reality and didn't want the ED anymore AT ALL. But in reality I realized that was NEVER it. It wasn't magic that got me to suddenly be in recovery for two years- it was the threats of not being able to go back to school if I needed IOP from the Wash U psychiatrist. It was my fear of getting kicked out of school or not be able to see my therapist or nutritionist if I wasn't ok. FINE. I can be ok if I have to. I could always be ok if I had to- that's what got me here isn't it?

thats why i never said anything- that's why the way i struggle more especially this last year back in treatment is over eating- because it is the only thing that people don't freak out about.

I don't think it counts ED-wise. But in reality I know it counts for me more than anything else does. It is my real struggle that can only be manifested in a way that will not hurt me more. It is my real struggle disguised in the only way it can be so that I can make it out of all of this treatment and therapy shit alive. It is the only thing that will not get me kicked out again. I thought I was over all of this. I had been angry and terrified, anxious and in pain, I had yelled and cried more hysterically than I ever have before. I have talked and been "validated", I have talked and talked and written and written and tried for four years to figure out what really happened. What I really did. Who's fault it was and what I can to to make it ok that it happened- finally ok for MYSELF. I have heard people tell me to stop analyzing it and stop writing the same things. I have worked more myself than anything on it and after an agenda I wrote about CW and RO a few weeks ago I really thought I was ok about it. I really thought I was able to let go of most of it. And I still think that's true to some extent. But maybe far less than I realized. I had to leave to see the ways it still impacted me.

ANd this is it: I was still "ok"- meaning over eating really right now until my mom left tues night. Then I fell apart. Maybe it was because it got so much worse with her being there because I feel like I can eat even more because it's like we are on "vacation". So restricting has been really bad since then. I know it hasn't been long but I know that when it starts this badly it doesn't go anywhere good. I know when I stop caring that something is really wrong. I know that when I refuse to see a nutritionist and don't want to see my therapist because I'm terrified of them telling me to go away that I have to worry. But hey at least I'm worrying right? Ok sorry not funny. But basically I can struggle the ways I have wanted to now. I can restrict and not be as worried that I will be alone. I can restrict because I have never really had a chance to work on that aspect. I was too scared. And I think I always will be. So maybe for right now this is for me to figure out. alone. But that's all I can write right now I'm crying too much.


I try to have a quote at the end of my posts but right now all I can say is I know I still can't lose hope- I just have no fucking clue what to do right now. And I hope I figure it out.

The Good

So...I'll try my best to update since it's been awhile...Most things are going really well. But some aren't and I wish more than anything that I didn't have to say that. Classes start on Wednesday and at least the clinical diagnosis one I'm sure I will LOVE, and the ethics class has most of my friends from last semester in it. I have more free time so I am lying outside in the park and reading, going on walks with friends, and in general doing what I want to do. My mom came last week and I got a bunch of new clothes and shoes. I LOVE new clothes! it was nice to have my mom here without my dad but it was hard because we definitely started arguing toward the end of her trip- she was here for 6 days. That is longer than I have seem anyone in my family for two years... I'm a lot less depressed since the change in medication a few weeks ago and I have had a lot of time to just relax and take care of myself since I left IOP. Practicum was the major thing I have been worried about and it is actually going ok. There are things I wish were different but I know I will be able to get through it. And it's been awhile since I could say that. I only knew I could get through Grad school starting in January. Now I know I can do at least the first two practicums which is exciting. I've been doing things with some of my oldre friends I don't get to see very often but love doing stuff with. And I've made some unexpected ones too which has been awesome. Still not rock climbing, I think I'm afraid of what I will have lost by the time I get back. As much as it is something I do for fun, part of what makes me so happy is that you can never stop improving. And I don't care about how good anyone else is- I care about my love of climbing propelling me forward. And I think that scares me. It's been a long time since I had something like that and I always lost it. I don't want to lose this too.


"Stop worrying about what might hold you down, and start paying attention to why you are standing up" - anonymous

The Answer

I used to be a lot more religious than I am now. I lost it somewhere in the struggles in high school and college and all my friends questioning everything because of the International Baccalaureate Program and the philosophical nature of everything in it. I've been trying to find more of my religious beliefs recently but can't quite figure things out. I was watching one of my favorite shows and had a realization. There was a situation similar to many I have experienced where a girl realized she had lost her ultimate dream and was saying that she prayed for things her whole life and they were never answered so why would she pray now? And her friend said that God always answers prayers, but sometimes that answer is "no". And as stupid as a part of me feels this really hit me. Because I have felt this way a lot, but more than that I realized that it was possible that maybe I wasn't meant to take certain paths. Maybe I wasn't meant to play for the Olympic team. Maybe I wasn't meant to be a doctor or own a non-profit. Maybe- just maybe- my "failure" to accomplish the things I wanted to weren't failures, but paths I wasn't meant to take in the first place. Of course then I get angry because I got so hurt by losing these things that I wonder if I wasn't meant to take those paths why was I put on them in the first place? I have so many things I need to figure out, but I really started thinking that maybe all the things I wanted before weren't right for me, and that it wasn't that I didn't work hard enough or that I wasn't able to control my anxiety and depression enough. Maybe I didn't accomplish things in my life that I desperately wanted to not because I didn't deserve it, wasn't smart enough, wasn't willing to die even more to get them. MAYBE I'm not a failure. MAYBE when I wanted some things so badly and I prayed that I would accomplish them, the answer was just no- that that wasn't my path to follow. I still think a lot that the fact that I didn't get where I wanted to in life meant that I never should have lived in the first place, because so many of those things were what kept me alive. But MAYBE the "failures" to get where I felt I needed to in life weren't ME FAILING, but something or someone out there saying no, not because I wasn't good enough or deserving or happy or _____ enough, but because I wasn't meant to do any of that in the first place. MAYBE I still haven't found what I'm meant to do, but I'm hoping I'll see changes in my path as getting back on my true path after I try to take the one I feel like I should, and not failures. MAYBE I'm not a failure. This MAYBE could be a big thing for me. I'm going to need to do a lot more reflecting...

And I think sadly, more than anything this all made me realize how much to some extent I still HATE myself for not being strong enough or working hard enough to get where I wanted. To a large extent I don't hate myself for the abuse as much, but I hate myself for this. And I'm going to need to figure that out, or I will never be able to truly let go of my past enough to create a new future.

Well, I feel like I've repeated myself enough for one night time to go back to sleep :)

Our rabbi once said, “God always answers our prayers, it’s just that sometimes the answer is no.” – Barbara Feinstein

"To believe with certainty, we must begin with doubting." – Stanislaus I

Faith and doubt both are needed – not as antagonists, but working side by side to take us around the unknown curve. – Lillian Smith

Freedom

Yesterday was my last day of IOP. I've been in treatment of some sort for about 10 and a half months now and yesterday night I was crying when I said goodbye to the people who have been there since August. I cried later when I read the cards I got. And as completely exhausted as I am I haven't been able to sleep for more than a half an hour at a time. And then randomly I woke up and just started crying again...it was weird- and I assumed it was the same thing as last night, but all of the sudden I realized it was something I've never really felt before- freedom. Complete and utter FREEDOM. Which on some level I think is weird because there are still so many struggles right now- but I'll take it. Things ending has always been a hard thing for me- even when my last class ended my urges skyrocketed. I think I'm still suppressing more than I think I am and when things come to an end and I have time to breathe it all hits me. I know it will be weird without iop and something to structure that much of my time with, but I'm not feeling any of the urges right now. I'm feeling like this is an ending but more than that a beginning.

I'm excited to start practicum and see that I am capable of working in this field. I'm excited to keep doing better than I was in school, and be around my friends and see where life takes me especially with everything I've learned especially since December. I'm not even as scared as I was when I left in January. I'm going to have to work really hard on the food because things are getting a little off (that's for another post), but for now I'm going to enjoy my new freedom. It's not freedom from treatment or school or anything else tangible...it's freedom from the old me- from my old ways of thinking, my old beliefs about having to save the world to matter and that I've failed at so many things even with my successes. It's a freedom from my belief that I'm so screwed up mentally that I will never be able to function and that my only purpose is to save others. I know now what I can do when I am in a good place- I just need to keep myself there, which will take a lot of work, but to KNOW I will be ok and find happiness and love and fun and adventure is worth it. I have always HATED to not know exactly what was going to happen in my future- I wanted to know exactly when I would be done with my goals and "happy". But now I'm realizing there isn't one end goal and that pisses me off in some ways still, but I'm trying to see the freedom in my ability to go where I am happy and be able to change paths, no matter how far away they are from each other.

I wrote the majority of this friday at two am...but all day Saturday I just sat in the feeling of freedom- that I could do what I want when I want with who I want. The feeling that I am going to love my practicum because IOP is something I CAN do. Honestly I can't wait to meet the people who go there- they can teach you so many things. I can't wait to see what aspects I like and which I don't- because whatever the answer I can find the next step. I went to a farmer's market and got a yummy tomato pesto mozzarella crepe for lunch. I ate it outside in the park while I read the new book I bought- "The Spirituality of Imperfection". I love it so far and I'm sure I'll talk about it on here more. I'm working on trying to see the good aspects of making errors...which is still a struggle :)

Anyway, I spent the day feeling freedom in my chest and stomach that I have never felt before. It was calming and exciting and I am looking forward to feeling this way more often. But hopefully getting less sunburned...

"Freedom is not worth having if it does not connote the freedom to err." Mahatma Gandhi

definition of recovery- comment I left for a friend last year

It is really helping me to look through these :)

I think people, including myself for awhile, have this idea of recovery and what it is like. That maybe the first time you use a slight symptom you aren't in recovery anymore and no one can look up to you. I used to believe that but now I realize it is those people that are the ones that are real and fighting and in recovery. It really IS a process as much as I even hate to admit that. I did SO well the first year and when I started having some slips after that year I hated myself. I was jealous of everyone who was doing "perfectly" and how much everyone looked up to them. But now I realize more each day that this is a fight that will take time and doesn't happen all at once. It gets better. It gets better every time we learn from some type of slip- ED or therapeutic or whatever. THAT is what recovery is. It is fighting this battle every day as best you can. And honestly there are some days you can't fight well. It sucks and it's scary but true. Don't ever be afraid to ask for help- that is when you find your true supports. Don't ever give up no matter how hard things get- it is ok to take a few steps that aren't forward- but that doesn't mean they are back- it means they are sideways and the path is NOT straight. The journey is bumpy and slippery and you need other people and to just not give up.

Another:
I used to think I could NEVER go back even in the slightest and it was really hard when I had a slip but I have learned more than ever with the slips because they are telling me something. One of the slips I had last summer was because I started putting other people first and that is still so much of a struggle for me. I felt for awhile like I was supposed to be the one who was the example and I started realizing I felt like I was recovering for everyone ELSE It's not about anyone but US and what lives we choose to lead :) keep working hard


"Stop worrying about what might hold you down, and start paying attention to why you are standing up" - anonymous

This is what I do at 2 am apparently...

Since I can't sleep I've been thinking about what topics I want to blog about and something occurred to me- most of us know we are SO much better at giving advice to others and telling them how amazing they are, than we are at using our own advice or believing that we could be worthy in any way. So I decided I should look at the comments I have given people and maybe they would shed some of the insight I have that I can work toward applying to myself...So here is one I gave a friend who wrote about feeling like she had to have the perfect recovery, something A LOT of people struggle with:

Love the honesty- and I feel lucky that for whatever reason I haven't felt the need to do recovery perfectly. Maybe it's just how many amazing people I see go up and down. I realized a long time ago that recovery is so incredibly hard and if those people can't do it perfectly then it can't be done. And I don't know if this helps at all but I think it is almost kinda cool that things aren't just level after leaving treatment. I like that there are always things to learn- I love having lightbulb moments that make me proud to have put some things together. I like seeing that when an urge gets worse than it has ever been, that I can still not act on it. I like seeing that I CAN still get up no matter how many times I fall. I think it all shows the resiliency of the human spirit. I like slowly getting more and more into a life that I want and know I deserve now. I like knowing I am strong enough to get through anything if I have gotten to this point. And honestly I LOVE watching the hardest work I will ever do pay off. I love watching it pay off for others too. Because ultimately if recovery wasn't worth it there is no way we would put ourselves through even more hell :) I think I'm going to have to blog about this...thanks! :)

P.S. Even Jenni S. wrote a second book and said she thought she was further than she was in her first book and she has grown so much even since then. She is in an even different level of recovery now and she wasn't afraid to admit that things weren't as perfect as she thought they were

Another one about feeling behind in life:

I know that you wish you hadn't spent those years wanting to die and I get that but remember we all get where we are by where we were. And no matter what you had to get through in your past you did. And you got through the working on it too- which is just as hard sometimes. It sucks to be behind but I try to see it as an aspect of life that I had that others won't always experience. It wasn't good- but it was something. It wasn't fun but I learned and grew and most importantly want to LIVE for the first time. So even if it took me seven years to want to live I would rather have gone through it than not experience what I am today :) Unfortunately sometimes we only see the true height of the highest point if we once sat at the lowest.


"Stop worrying about what might hold you down, and start paying attention to why you are standing up" - anonymous

Changes

I had a really good session with my therapist yesterday. I was upset that I've been more depressed for the past like 5 or 6 weeks. It's frustrating because It's not nearly as bad as it could be so I'm able to still do a lot, but there is just an underlying sense of sadness that I can't seem to figure out. Maybe it's mostly chemical, maybe it's not. But my therapist did point out that if I look back on the past year a shit ton has changed in my life and I'm about to have even more pretty big changes in my life that could be contributing to the depression. I started thinking about the last year...last march I had two weeks that were some of the worst of my life. I had stopped taking my sleeping meds and then because I wasn't taking a regular night med I for got to take the med I took with them. Besides the fact that it could have had really bad physical consequences, it made me incredibly self destructive. I should have been in the hospital but I really didn't want to risk school or making things worse by sitting in the psych ward... things got better when I realized what had happened, but in general I was pretty dissociative and stressed and just focused on making it to graduation.

I graduated from Wash U and started relapsing around that time. I decided I needed to go to River Oaks, did a ton of work there, and had a traumatic experience as well. I came back and did terrible in every way until August. I started Graduate school at a new place with new people and new ways of learning. Instead of exams I had papers and presentations. I had classes I loved more than previous ones because they were more focused on what I love. I made a ton of new healthy friends and got out and did things a lot more. I started iop and did a lot of work there. I realized that as much as things were amazing on the outside and in some ways internally as well, there was still something that was keeping me stuck in thinking I was still going to die and in some ways I didn't care. I did more intensive stuff and finally got to the bottom of what was behind a lot of the things that still weren't going well internally. I did more work than I ever have before. I was able to get mad at my parents and work through things around them that I never even thought was really relevant, and I sure as hell didn't really want to talk about. I worked on challenging my core beliefs, realizing where they came from and realized that most of them are not true and never were. I continued the work for the last three months back in iop, where there have been tons of changes and many people I will never really know, which makes me sad. I have had a much different experience with school this semester- my friends are much more busy with practicum so I'm not able to see them as much. I have lost two of my closest friends because I did not agree with the things they started doing. I've had a lot more time on my hands because I have less due in classes, which is hard because I don't know what to do with myself sometimes. I started rock climbing which I LOVE and is the only thing since volleyball that I really love for it's sake and not because I'm good. I love working to improve but I do it for fun and don't beat myself up if I feel like I'm not doing well or working hard enough or improving as fast as I want. I have had a few friends who went through some pretty big crises this semester, which really affected me as well. I'm about to discharge from iop in a few weeks and start my first practicum which is exciting but terrifies me at the same time. In the last year I have also dealt with the death of my aunt from a brain tumor, a high school friend from alcohol poisoning, my cousin's suicide, the almost successful suicide attempt of a best friend, the almost death of another best friend, heart attack of another, death of a mentor from undergrad, and one of the most important mentors in my life- the person I first told about the abuse and ED, the person who made it safe to talk about and cared about me as a person- not because of what I could do- suffered a stroke and has been in a semi-coma ever since. So when I look back there really have been a lot of changes. Many for the better, but still I have to remember that change is always hard and puts some amount of stress on people.

So maybe that's a factor in the depression, I know there are other things, but I know that I will get through this just like everything else, it will take time. I will have to keep doing things I don't necessarily want to do- push myself to be around people, do things I love and keep doing the food and taking care of myself. I just hope it gets better soon.

I'm excited about the changes. I know how much better things are because of all the ones in the last year. I know how much I've grown and learned. I think I'm ready for the ones coming up, but I am also very very scared.

"Stop worrying about what might hold you down, and start paying attention to why you are standing up" - anonymous

and I'm also working on figuring out my religious beliefs...

I'll write more later but for mow since it is Easter in a few hours I will post something I saw my friend Sarah post on facebook. Food for thought...

Most of our lives are spent in Holy Saturday. In other words, most of our days are not filled with the unbearable pain of a Good Friday. Nor are they suffused with the unbelievable joy of an Easter. Some days are indeed times of great pain and some are of great joy, but most are…in between. Most are, in fact, times of waiting, much as the disciples waited during Holy Saturday. We’re waiting. Waiting to get into a good school. Waiting to meet the right person. Waiting to get pregnant. Waiting to get a job. Waiting for things at work to improve. Waiting for diagnosis from the doctor. Waiting for life just to get better.

But there are different kinds of waiting. There is the wait of despair. Here we know--at least we think we know--that things could never get better, that God could never do anything with our situations. This may be the kind of waiting that forced the fearful disciples to hide behind closed doors on Holy Saturday, cowering in terror. Of course they could be forgiven; after Jesus was executed they were in danger of being rounded up and executed by the Roman authorities. (Something tells me, though, that the women disciples, who overall proved themselves better friends than the men during the Passion, were more hopeful.) Then there is the wait of passivity, as if everything were up to “fate.” In this waiting there is no despair, but not much anticipation of anything good either.

Finally, there is wait of the Christian, which is called hope. It is an active waiting; it knows that, even in the worst of situations, even in the darkest times, God is at work. Even if we can’t see it clearly right now. The disciples’ fear was understandable, but we, who know how the story turned out, who know that Jesus will rise from the dead, who know that God is with us, who know that nothing will be impossible for God, are called to wait in faithful hope. And to look carefully for signs of the new life that are always right around the corner--just like they were on Holy Saturday.


"Stop worrying about what might hold you down, and start paying attention to why you are standing up" - anonymous