Message Received.

How quickly the bliss fades away. Every day changes me, and i often forget that i can decide how it changes me. Yesterday, God was clearly sending me a message. He was calling me back to Him yet again. i was also asked to remember the recent reflections. And i should also read more.
So i need more God in my life. i'm getting very caught up in my suffering and i'm losing sight of important things. i've reverted a bit. In my therapy session this week, i defaulted back to arguing with my therapist trying to prove i am a bad person. And just like every other time i've tried this through the years, it's clear that there is no proof of this, but in fact much evidence of just the opposite. And i could feel my blood boil because i feel so strongly that i am a worthless piece of shit, i don't know why, and i don't know why i can't let it go.
Then we began to dive deeper. We uncovered the undercurrent of my life - quiet, persistent, insidious shame. i've had it as far back as i can remember. It makes sense, the way it was installed in me. My parents - young, unprepared, stubborn, fucked up - couldn't handle some of the challenges of bringing up a child. So i was yelled at, locked in my room, other disciplines that maybe made sense. But they loved me. i know that. i couldn't quite reconcile angry adults with their loving selves. i figured there was stuff wrong with me. i was very sensitive, and easily absorbed those messages. It all erupted, of course, in puberty, and the rest is history.
Now, i am still very sensitive, and have to be very mindful of my self talk. What is helpful? What is true? What is harmful? How can i shape my thoughts to build me up best? God is key in this. i believe my Creator loves me immensely and has great plans for me. i feel that presence often in my life. The story of Jesus Christ helps guide my daily action - how to stay connected to God through prayer and meditation, how to be kind to people no matter what, how to have fun and be sassy and have a heart so overflowing with love. When i look to that, i live better. When i blind myself with the mire of my life, there is so much unnecessary suffering.
So how am i going to stay connected? i gotta meditate more, root myself in my humanness, set a quality rhythm to my breath, work on intentions. i'll pray, open up a dialogue with God, speak up about all my hopes and fears and plans and cravings and annoyances, get into the nitty gritty, and remain open to a response. Reading helps too, right now it's the Tao of Pooh and is so fantastic, on deck is the Four Agreements. Music, the nectar for my soul. Being in nature, hiking, frisbee barefoot in a field, chillin at the beach, climbing trees, floating in a pool, feeling a breeze, sunshine on my skin.
i'm grateful for the awareness of all this. i'm very hopeful with this new plan.

There Ain't No "I" in Frendly Here...

i went to a music festival and it changed everything.

i joined the volunteer crew. i met up with another Frend from my area and we hauled up together, grabbed another guy on the way, and set up camp on the mountain. i had a tent and air mattress my coworker gave me, and a backpack and sleeping bag my therapist gave me. i brought my own food, and the best attitude i could muster.

i was a little nervous going in on my own. It's scary, what with my heaps of anxiety, and also a priority for sobriety that would be tested. But i really rooted myself down into my core, i sorted out my values, and i stayed in that center.

My tent lied on a 30 degree incline the whole weekend. The rain got much of my stuff wet, as the tent proved to be leaky. i wasn't as vigilant with the SPF as i should have been. And all these things are way overshadowed by the incredible loving powerful experience of it.

The volunteer crew was phenomenal. Positivity radiated through us. We connected, shared stories, food, drugs (to which i said no thank you), songs, our vibes filled the atmosphere. It transformed me.

The music lifted me up higher than i could've dreamed of. i discovered another fabulous Dead cover band, Sleepy Man -  a fan frikkin tastic bluegrass band, Upstate Rubdown - such beautifully layered vocals and rhythms, Madaila - groovy tunes for my soul. One night, Nahko & Medicine for the People blew my mind with their songs of healing. About halfway through the performance, i felt a barrier around my heart break and fall away, and i wept. i was so awestruck. They just hit me, tapped into something that needed some tenderness, broke me down and brought me back together so much better.

The best drug there was AcroYoga. That was such a rush of grounded loftiness, strength and weightlessness, connection and harmony.

There was free Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and Deep River potato chips. There were hikes, with an amazing view from the top of the mountain. Tye dye workshops, frendship bracelet making, hammock lounging, mud jumping, flow toys, fun and Frends abounding. i also had the  best burgers of my life there from the Burger Barn. A local farm, fully self sustained, has their seasonal food on wheels. 1st burger - Ethan Allen: burger with cheddar, grilled apple slices, and cranberry garlic mayo. 2nd burger - Nutty Goat - goat cheese, candied walnuts, bacon, carmelized onions, mayo. Tastebuds were in awe.

The journey home was surreal, trying to process all that had occurred. Adjusting back to my typical life was difficult. But i feel how i carry these experiences with me. It was such a necessary trip. i feel lighter and brighter, hopeful and level.

This season has a few more festivals on the horizon. i'm very excited for what's in store.

Somewhere in the insanity...

Floodgates have opened. Emotions are flowing. i've been feeling and talking and crying and regrouping and shaking and writing and processing and distracting and doing everything i can to get through. i'm so raw right now, carrying on with normal daily like right now is a huge challenge. i'm pretty fed up with my home. My messes stare me in the face: material, emotional, familial. i am a fucking mess.

But my safe haven in this storm has been my job. It's pretty awesome to have a job that i love so much. i can go there and have fun, feel at ease, connect with my fabulous coworkers, shift my focus to better things, turn myself around. Really, my work does something that nothing else can. Once i get in the water, the outside world melts away, i come face to face with my kids, we splash and play and laugh and take some risks and grow. i throw myself in and submerge myself in the puzzle that each little person is. It helps me forget myself, my worries, my insecurities, my pain, my deficits. i feel productive valuable, happy. Working here has been so important to me well-being, i am so so grateful. It's been a wonderful reprieve from the insanity i'm currently immersed in.
i'm so sure i haven't unraveled thanks to work. i'm pretty sure my boss has picked up on this, and she's picked this moment to ask more of me. i'm getting parent & baby classes added to my schedule, and i'm now also training to teach the upper levels. To think, i joined on as a simple lifeguard... It feels incredible to be trusted and valued so much. In many ways it still doesn't feel real. But here i am.

On another note, the other night i was at a women's AA meeting. It was a particularly powerful gathering for us. i shared about my struggles at home, my displacement, exposure to active addiction, my anger and fear. Afterwards, a woman who i've looked up to for a long time came up to me and said, "You are a strong woman of dignity and grace." i was taken aback, but i smiled, thanked her, and tried to let that in. i didn't look behind me to make sure it was indeed me she was talking to (as if she would randomly pause our conversation to jump to another person while maintaining eye contact with me). i didn't challenge her, though it was tempting. i know my perception of myself is warped. So i tried to accept it, and i still am. But if someone i so admire can see this (and she definitely does not say things she does not mean), i can go ahead and give myself the chance that she gives me. This external affirmation is working itself inward. i know that even though i feel so bogged down, i'm still showing up. i go to work and teach my kids, i go to meetings and try to be a friend among friends, i can be grateful for the little gifts and daily miracles instead of letting the pain blind me. i can be mindful that this pain will transform me to a stronger, smarter, more compassionate, more balanced, better person. i can have full faith in my journey.

Following Freud's Suggestions...

What are the connections between disliking or being angry at my mother, and hating myself? What happened that i'm not forgiving myself or her for?
i can stare at these questions for a significant length of time and come up blank. i think because my mind and body have worked hard to create walls and block it all out - keep myself numb.... It's probably the same part of me that bucks against me every time i take a step towards health. i can't quite tell if it's getting easier or harder as i go on.
i've done a lot of work on my relationship with my mother. Since entering therapy 10 years ago, i think i've dissected every moment in my memory about her. But apparently i need to do it again.

Teen mom, i was born the summer before her senior year. She was tutored from home for part of the year and she graduated on time. She went on to college without skipping a beat. Bachelor's in math, then Master's. Grama and Grampa helped out a lot. My dad kinda floated in and out inconsistently. From what i remember, up to age 5 was pretty normal. A lot of love, a bunch of tantrums, being a goofy kid, getting into sports, exploring outside. i have some memories of parties (and we're Irish, there were a lot of them), the adults around me getting drunk - loud, slurry, sloppy. It was scary at the time. It was difficult to make sense of as a kid. i remember at a young age trying to help mom walk when she would stumble too much. But for the most part, i remember her hugging me and cuddling me, picking me up from school and bringing me to dance swim soccer music, she worked hard on her homework. We would go to the park or out to eat or to the aquarium or shopping or get ice cream or take a trip to the bookstore. i loved her so much and she was my hero, and remained so until the 6th grade.
Then the hormones flared up, the veil dropped, and everything in my life changed. It seemed to have happened suddenly with no particular catalyst. To the best of my memory, it went: starting middle school, adjusting pretty well. i had swimming and lacrosse and singing and sleepaway camp. Mom broke up with Jay who i loved and had become close to me than my dad at that point, i didn't feel much about it and i knew i should be sad, but i couldn't really access it. . Mom applied for her own house and things started moving on that. She promised me she'd stay single for at least a year to focus on herself and me. But she met someone else within a month and attached herself to him and he even had the same name. i didn't like him at all.
The moment i got hit with self loathing was in 7th grade, walking down the hallway in the middle of a school day, and i turned a corner and had the thought that i was not meant to be here, on earth, i came from a teen pregnancy, nobody wants to have a baby at 16, i was a mistake, my existence is a fluke, and i don't deserve to live. i sat with that for a while before i told anyone. Things at home were very complicated. For starters i felt like i didn't have a home. i didn't like being at mom's because i didn't like J and how weird he was, overbearing and knit picking and cranky. Grama let me stay over a lot, thankfully,  but always said i belonged with my mother. i sometimes went to my dad's.
Mom started to fade away. Grampa took me to school all the time. He picked me up the most too. Dad took me to sports practices. Mom was having back problems. She tried a few things but the doctors gave her pills and told her she needed surgery. It happened that Spring and she was never the same since. i was changing too, and mom must have picked up on it because she put me in therapy. i had told only a couple friends about my existential crisis, and i felt really certain that my life was worthless. So i went to therapy and spoke the bare minimum. i was going to hold onto my self loathing and suicidal ideas as mine and not let anyone take it from me. i started to drink - the first time at home, alone, 2 am, kitchen floor, quiet house, glass of vodka. i downed it, and i loved that it took me out of myself, it burned my insides and transported my mind elsewhere. i could feel fuzzy and numb and unburdened. i started smoking too. i knew it was bad for me, i breathed in the toxins and hoped it would rot me. And then i stopped eating. And then i started cutting. i so desperately didn't want to be myself, didn't want to be here, i fully immersed myself in self destruction and i didn't want anyone else to know. i couldn't tell my mom because i saw her at that point as fragile - with her back problems, physically deteriorating, work being affected by that, financial stress, and clearly needing a man to feel whole - i felt like i had to protect her from myself, that dealing with me would be harmful to her. i couldn't tell either of my grandparents even though we were close and i trusted them, because it would just break their hearts. i couldn't tell Dad because fuck him, his anger issues, his absence, his unpredictability. i didn't like my therapist. But i was scared, there was a small piece in my core (that has turned out to be really damn strong) that wanted life and health and happiness. i ended up reaching out to a teacher and told her i was depressed and having a really hard time at home. She listened, and empathized, and that felt good. i reached out more, and perhaps overreached. i really like the feeling of being cared for, and i was closed off from that at "home." Well of course mom was notified, and she responded pretty well, she assured me she loves me and never even regrets having me and always wants to be there for me. But i was already on a roll, the self destruction snowballed and became huge. And even though mom probably meant what she said, she never really seemed present. She was always either doing work, cleaning, watching a show that she didn't want me to talk during, or zonked out on her meds. She didn't really pay attention to me anymore. So i carried on.
Then mom got pregnant. For a while i couldn't decide if i was excited or angry. But my little Moo turned out to be one of the best things ever. i feel a bit parentified with her, and i see mom being different with her than i remember her being with me. i have certain expectations of mom as Moo's mother, and i get really upset when she falls short. i think i also still feel and hold onto the hurts she caused as my parent and want to prevent Moo from going through that. i pretty much know that i've stepped into the caregiver sister role all on my own, but mom didn't really do much to stop me.  i did so much to help Moo, so much fuming at mom, so much running away from my damn self, i could never just sit still, take a breath and calm down, and grow in the ways i needed to. i tried that, thinking moving in with Dad would be a step in achieving that. But i was still so wild, so connected to the destructive ways, i felt i couldn't let go. Dad did introduce me to AA, which i am so grateful for and feel that it has helped me in ways i don't think therapy can. But i needed that 2 years of secluded intense residential therapy. It was there that Dad and i had a falling out, i grew more upset with my mother and her own struggles, and i started to look inward for stability, nurturing, strength, and motivation. After 2 years, mom signed me out AMA, Dad was pretty pissed, but i went home to mom and Grama. It was chaos. i stayed connected to my own strength, i found some people in my school that i could rely on, and struggled through the rest of high school just barely keeping my head above water. i found my mom to be an empty well most of the time. Occasionally she would produce a good few drops for me, surprise me, trick me, for it was never consistent or reliable or sustaining. Despite that, i really stabilized. In my therapy and recovery work i've learned that i can't go to the hardware store for milk, can't draw from an empty well. i orchestrated my own support system. Mom plays a very small part in it. And sometimes she actually acts as a harmful person to my well-being. There were times that my strides in recovery were a thread to her comfort in her particular way of life, and she'd try to undo my work - trying to get me to drink, or to cosign her shit, or ask me to do a think that would enable her unhealthy decisions, and i would have to distance myself from her. It has made me really sad, ti know that something has hijacked my mother - formerly Mommy - and made her resentful of my health and an obstacle in my happiness.

i think i'm afraid to feel angry about it, because i know she doesn't necessarily want to be like this. Even though i did do the work of recovery and have significantly diminished my own self loathing, there's still a piece of me that's mad at Mommy and mad at myself for feeling that way. In a pivotal time in my life, there was a huge, sore absence, and so many years later i'm still confused about it. i'm still not completely my own person, there's a lot i need to learn, and i resent my mom for not teaching me. i'm upset with her, and when i know it's not her fault, with the circumstances. i hate myself for hating her, and until i really heal that, i don't think i can be whole.

Let Go Or Be Dragged

"You're holding on to so much. And you hold onto it in your heart, your muscles, your mind, the way you talk to yourself, in your posture, in your bowels, in all the clutter in your room, there's no space for anything else in your life and you wonder why you stay in the same cycles."
i was a little shocked to be called out in this way, but dammit when a therapist is right, she's right. i keep that old stuff around, the hurts, the patterns, the assumptions, the feelings, and regard it as current fact. In the list of ways my past is keeping me hostage, each seem so impossible difficult to overcome. My heart is so heavy with how terribly i feel about myself, my muscles are always so tight and aching. The self talk is only slightly different than a decade ago. i'm frequently constipated. My body is tight, closed, hunching, defensive, even when i think i'm comfortable. And my room is filled to the brim, hoarder status, with stuff i feel like i can't get rid of. Clothes, stuffed animals, school binders, kid books, tchotchkes, notebooks filled with my angst, ages worth of stocking stuffers, craft supplies, photos, cheap jewelry, gifts never delivered, projects unfinished, and whatever else is buried under all that crap.

But i'm tired. This life is so unfruitful. i want more. i want to change. i want to feel what other people so adamantly believe about me. Bless them for carrying me through these tough times. It's time to molt - this old shell is no longer protecting me. Whatever mechanisms were useful in the past are actually quite harmful now. This week i've made the first real attempt at letting go. i'm cleaning my room. i packed up 2 big bags of clothes and 1 box of books that are no longer useful to me. It's going to take a while to go through everything, but i'm proud of the start i got. i've been avoiding it for a very long time. The emotions i've been dreading are coming up, and it's exhausting, but i trust that this will be a transformative process, as people wiser than me have told me so.

And i need some transformation because i feel some self sabotage in the works. My relationships are in danger as i'm giving in to my habits of isolation and numbing. i recently heard that the first thing to be destroyed in the disease of addiction is self esteem and the capacity to feel loved or worth loving. i believe it's probably the last thing to come back, too. i still struggle with feeling like i'm someone people value or want to be around. Like, i don't want to be around me, so it's extremely tempting to just close myself off. But really, the moments that i stay connected to people, live into health, explore my potential, welcome my emotions, exercise my intellect, i feel alive and content and hopeful. It's what i want my life to consistently be. So even though it's dreadfully uncomfortable to go through the new processes, stay present to the emotions, feel the new space in and around me, i know that one moment at a time i'll really change. The past doesn't have to haunt me, it doesn't have to take over my present. i can rather accept it as part of myself and be grateful for the experience. Some times i feel more strongly than others i'll get there. i'll try to stay focused on the hope and faith and willingness. i'm very glad that the recent cloudiness i was feeling is starting to clear.

Running

Running. i keep running. In a way that keeps my body sedentary and lazy and ever expanding. And it just dawned on me in a way that sprung me awake at 2:30 while struggling to fall asleep.
i run to noise, to distraction, to shiny things, to sticky situations. Just away from myself. It's a bit different than the frantic, obscene sprint i displayed in adolescence that caused me to be forced to sit still and quirt for 2 years. This new one is a bit smoother, more calculated and has gone unnoticed by me for a few years. The insanity of craving connection and closeness in my relationships and then pushing people away. Sabotage. i don't stick around long enough for friends to truly become my mirrors. Facing myself is still this dreaded thing. And i'm so afraid of or appalled by myself that i cling to any suitable person, but then retreat when it gets too real. A vicious cycle.
Like that Wellspring prayer: "Afraid to be known..." shit, i'm there. It's why now i'm new to these meetings, why i can't hold down a sponsor, or a friend for that matter. It's why i fucking jump when i hear someone say my name. Especially my therapist, she says it with authority, because she knows me. And i realize she's really the only non family person who knows me and has maintained a relationship with me. Even for my good few years of recovery, i don't know how to have a sustaining friendship. i could blame it on a dysfunctional childhood, or any mental illness, but why would it matter where the blame is? i'm still lonely and afraid and alone.
And so instead of taking a breath and looking at myself, i lunge and get in my own way. Calling friends and then falling silent. Going to an AA meeting, raising my hand and telling on myself, and then retreating back into my darkness. Having conversations and never picking them back up. Starting a book and not getting past the first few pages, reading or writing. Unfinished prayers and poems and journal entries and art projects. And a completely overwrought self.
i have hope being kindled by the fabulous people i'm connecting with at the meetings i'm going to. i'll have to commit to staying connected to them, calling them and seeing them at meetings. i have more incentive to follow through now, trying to work through the hard time of facing my single self. Sometimes all these emotions make me feel like my body will dissolve itself from the center out, i'm also back in touch with the fact that this too shall pass.

As Far As "Somedays" Go...

It's been a while since i've worn this necklace. But today is an important day. We've reached 6 years since the brilliant and lovely Melissa Avrin lost her battle with an eating disorder. She was the first person i knew to become a casualty to something i held so dear. It was the first thing to really shake me up and question how close i should keep myself this disease. This beautiful woman helped me through so much in the short time that i knew her, the light that she possessed was immutable, her energy was bright and fun and infectious. With ease she could fill a room with laughter. Her presence was a delight to all who knew her. The hope she had and the dreams she clung to despite her struggles were so inspiring, the depths of her thoughts and the honesty with which she spoke of her hurts and her fears were moving, comforting, and motivating. i miss her so much. i would have loved to be around and watch what she could have done on this earth. 

It's been great to watch the Someday Melissa movie reach so many people, shed light on this dark subject, and give hope where it is needed so so much.

And while i'm grateful for the gift of recovery, it is so hard to lose people along the way. i wish i, or any of us, knew the formula for what makes recovery successful. It varies so greatly, and one seemingly small slip up and have such major consequences. 

Today i am wearing my strong woman necklace, to remind myself that i am a strong woman, and remain thankful to all the strong women in my life that helped me get to a place where i can finally believe that.

A Relapse

So yes, i'm in a great deal of pain. There's so much i've been doing to deal with it but i am so exhausted. i'd like to turn to my eating disorder instead of anything else because i'd like to focus on this test of strength, rely on the distraction of numbers/image, fuel the self disparaging thoughts rather than deal with being alone, having to do adult things, be mad at him for breaking my heart, feel like a failure for not doing my part in the relationship, or any other discomfort.
i've been keeping track of my food intake, and i'm mostly limiting it to water, tea, i've allowed some leaves of kale, a few bites of yogurt. There have been a couple times, going out after meetings with friends, i give in and eat diner food with them. But i make sure to act accordingly afterwards.
Sickeningly, i'm proud of myself for this. The diseased part of myself feels a bit stronger than the healthy hopeful part. i'm not fighting this much. i feel okay with slipping back....
It may not last that long. i could probably manage it for a week or two. i just need an extreme tactic to help get me through.
Though i'm scared by how good it feels. i know it's a slippery slope that will get slick really quick and i'll fall into the depths before i know it. My brain is changing, i'm not exactly sure how, but that's what research says and i can feel it. Only about a week into this and i feel so attached to these old habits. i'm not bothered by much else, i feel high when the pangs of hunger hit me.
My therapist says i need to stay real, don't backslide, don't push back the feelings, choose positive coping mechanisms, refrain from abusing myself. i've recited some of my negative self talk to her and we addressed the severity of it. She explained the importance of accepting myself as i am, being kind and patient with myself. i expressed my frustration of having been attempting just that for the past decade with minimal results. We agreed to work on it going forward.
i don't know where i stand right now. i don't know from minute to minute if i'll choose life or choose to feed the darkness. i know right now i'm making destructive choices more so than the healthy ones i know i'm capable of. i'd say it's about 60/40 as of now. i just want to feel good. Not eating is helping get there. It's that instant gratification. The ratio will probably change by tomorrow, and vary throughout the day. Perhaps a bit more committed to health. Perhaps still chasing numbness.
Today i chose restriction, and small talk in a coffee shop, going through the motions at work, getting to an AA meeting but remaining silent (at one point consciously choosing not to speak up and tell on the sickness), and enduring getting stood up by beau when we agreed to meet up and talk. i'm so upset he didn't show and i'm going out of my mind trying to gauge the reason why.
Tomorrow i have a meeting with my new sponsor, i have work and maybe i'll get into it, and i'll go to AA after that. i'll take it all as it comes and see where it brings me.

Lost

i've lost myself. i started off with great intentions, but you know what's said about those....
i had a direction, but didn't persist in taking the steps. The contentment i had turned into complacency and then everything unraveled. i've used retrospect to see where i went wrong, and i hope i can make things right.
This winter has changed me greatly.

In mid January, i found out i was pregnant. My boyfriend and i weighed out all the options, and the best one was abortion. And even though i was fully confident that it was the best decision, i was still feeling very sad and hurt about it. i had to wait 22 days between the positive result on the pregnancy test and the day of the procedure, and that time was agonizing. i was completely overrun by anxiety, i was jittery, depressed, heavy, head spinning with way too many thoughts to even try to keep track of. i couldn't get out of bed most days. i did manage to get to work when i needed to most of the time. i think i did end up taking 2 days off because of the torment of the first trimester - fatigue, nausea, mood swings, and so much vomiting. Thankfully, my workplace was very supportive of me. i broke down one day and told my boss what was going on with me, and she was exceptionally sweet. She acted as a friend through it, helping me to look at all the options, consoling me, sharing with me that she went through it when she was young too. When i told her my decision, she granted me the two weeks off that i needed, covering all my shifts without batting an eye, she even offered to go with me to the clinic if i needed it. i was so immensely grateful for her kindness. My therapist was also especially gracious through this time. She took many extra phone calls, talked through numerous times how i was to take care of myself and not beat myself up and not give into the depression but to stay focused on the positive. And from my boyfriend, i got much extra cuddles, he responded to my cravings, held me when i cried, and talked through the emotions. However, my mother and aunt became aggressively emotional, pushing me to keep the baby, taking me on guilt trips, believing in my ability and trying to get me excited to be a mother, my mother relaying the story of being pregnant with me at 16 and being scared out of her mind but still going forward to have me and love me and not regretting in for a moment, my aunt revealing to me that she had a termination when she was 20 and regrets it and doesn't want me to have that follow me for the rest of my life. They offered to help, financially (which i know they can't). they said i could move in the basement and be a double family, they'd babysit, they'd quit smoking. It became hostile. i didn't feel safe being around my family. i had to stay true to myself, i knew all the reasons i had to make this choice, and had to stay focused. i went through with the procedure at the end of February and healed. My biggest support, besides my boyfriend and therapist, was my church. A few weeks after i had a meeting with one of the reverends. Paul has been with me through a lot, supporting me for the last 3 years in my recovery, seeing me in ugly spots, guiding me through struggles, rejoicing in forward strides, celebrating progress. i was a little nervous he’d be disappointed in me for what i did, but he told me he was proud of me for making the decision i thought was best, reminded me God loves me and is walking through this with me, and helped me process my feelings of loss and relief and guilt and hope.
We talked about what is was like to go through it, and he said that terminating was the most life-giving choice i could have made. He expressed his frustration at pro-life rhetoric being so hypocritical and selfish and backwards. And then we talked about what my life was going to be like going forward. It was one of the best experiences at church i've had and i’m so grateful for it. It took about a month for my body and mind and emotions and spirit to return to baseline. And then i carried on at work as normal, and hung out with friends, and watched Netflix and ate yummy food.

Life went on well for a while. But then it all came crumbling down mid April, when i got blindsided by my sweetie asking for a break. And i quickly realized that i had become a person that i never intended to be. i actually stopped being my own person. i let my world shrink down to work, and home. i wasn't hanging out with any friends, i wasn't reading anything or doing any other intellectual work, i wasn't even watching anything on Netflix independently. i became so enmeshed with the beau and essentially became a leech. i was sucking on his life force. Both of us were rendered depleted. So i moved back in with Grama, i started going to AA meetings again, i've made new friends, i have a sponsor and am doing stepwork again. i'm reading books, i'm working on art projects, i'm writing again. i need to rebuild my own self again. Beau and i have been talking throughout this, and he's been working on his own stuff too, hurts from childhood, resisting laziness that tends to plague him, figuring out exactly what he needs in a relationship and how to communicate that. We still love each other a lot, but know that the way we are now will not make for a healthy relationship for either of us. Hopefully we can get back together soon and join forces as strong people having a fulfilling life together.

This is just another thing that proves that change rarely happens without a lot of pain. i terrible not being with him. i miss him something fierce. i'm upset with myself for hurting him. i regret losing myself. But i am taking the now and rebuilding myself, and am focusing on the positive. i'm enjoying jumping back into AA, exploring new art, taking up watercolor and macrame and recipes and fitness routines and new knitting projects, i'm cleaning out all my stuff and getting rid of a lot. i'm staying connected to God and cultivating my spirit. i'm trying to be at peace no matter what, be calm within myself, and whatever will come my way trust in my strength to get through it.