Another Year Passes

The end of 2014 is upon us. Another year has just flown by. I can still remember sitting at my dest in February wondering how I was going to make it through my spring semester classes. And here I am, challenging myself by becoming a full time student and excelling.

I continue to be appreciative of my job. I know I have it good there. The work is not stressful. My office is close to school. And there is downtime a couple of times a year where I can get school work done during working hours.

It was my goal last year to talk more this year. I’ve kind of done that. Occasionally. But my silence has been loud and pushed some away.

I’m learning new things about myself. That’s a life long process.

So, here’s to 2015. I hope to:
~ Continue to enjoy the classes I’m taking
~ Work to my full potential in both work and school
~ Talk more/write more/communicate my true feelings more
~ Lose weight the way I want to

Dreaming of Dancing

I loved dancing.  I still do.  Dance got me out of my head.  Learning choreography was all encompassing and the “normal” noise in my head was, finally, quiet.  Being at the barre at the beginning of class brought a comfort.  I got to escape in the movement.  Each dance I choreographed was auto-biographical.  A page ripped from my journal and brought to life.  But no one knew it.  I’ve never had any problems dancing a solo, but my palms start to sweat and my heart beat races at the mere thought of having to do an oral presentation.  Dancing was my passion.

Injuries and the eating disorder have taken dance away from me.  I get to a class maybe once a year.  Maybe.  And it hurts.  There are some dance programs, both live and on TV, that I can’t bring myself to watch.  It just reminds me of what could have been.  And that hurts.

I had the best dream the other night, but it turned into a nightmare once I woke up.  I had just been accepted into the main company where I had been part of the second company years ago.  I remember feeling so happy in the dream.  I was trying to figure out how I could manage work, school, and rehearsals.  The warm-ups cleared my mind of the time management issue and I could feel the stresses of the day just melt away.  Everything felt to good.  But then I woke up.  I was reminded that I was NOT part of the main company and that my involvement in the second company was but a glimmer in the fog of long ago.

I hate not dancing.  And I want it back

And Still I Keep Going

It’s been quite some time since I’ve put words out there in the universe. It’s only when I see the words on the screen, or on paper, that they become real. I actually have to admit what’s really going on. And sometimes I don’t want to. I don’t want to deal with stuff. I’d rather avoid it. Because if I avoid it, then it doesn’t really exist, right? Right. But I can’t run from certain things anymore.

It’s been about a week and a half now since my grandmother passed away.  My heart aches so much. She was my beacon of light. My grandmother was the best person in my life. She taught me so many wonderful things. I don’t allow myself to think about her too much because I start to choke on my tears.  The pain of her not being in my life is too much.

Every once in a while I still get a piece a piece of mail with my ex’s name on it.  It throws me for a loop and back into the place where I blame myself for everything.

I figured out that I’m jealous of my best friend.  And my therapist.  Different reasons, same feelings inside.  I don’t like feeling jealous.

I don’t like feeling.

I just want to be numb.  I just want to binge and purge my way through my break from work and school.  I just want to sit and not feel anything.

But I can’t even do that because m mother is visiting.  She’s in my way.  Constantly wanting to know what I’m doing and if I’m okay.  I don’t like it when anyone invades my space like that.  It makes me want to shut down.

The only thing I’m looking forward to is school starting next semester.  Then I can be busy again.  Then I’ll know how to spend my evenings and weekends.

Until then, I’m just going to keep putting one foot in front of the other and maybe I’ll be able to breathe a bit easier one of these days.

Nothing to Do

So I’ve had a particularly busy summer so far. I took a summer class, which was great. I learned a lot, but had to work hard too. I was a bit stressed, but definitely busy.

After the class was over, we had to prepare for the start of the selling season. That took a lot of time and work actually during work hours.

And now? Although the selling season is still going on for the next month, I don’t really have anything to do at work. School doesn’t start until September. What am I supposed to do until then?

I have a three day weekend coming up. Barely three hours into it and I’m already bored. Me + being bored is NOT a good combination. I tend to intensely engage in eating disorder behaviours. And I really don’t want to do that this weekend.

I have plans for both lunch and dinner tomorrow with friends. This will be good because I will get out of the house and at least attempt “normalcy.” But it brings out a lot of anxiety. Where are we going? What am I going to eat? Will I be able to resist the urge to purge afterwards?

I so don’t understand why I can’t seem to do this on my own. Why do I have to have plans with someone in order to actually take care of myself. I should be able to do this on my own. “Normal”people really don’t have a problem with feeding themselves.

Why is it such a struggle for me?

Why?

It’s All About Time

Time passing.  Time looming.  Time standing still.

This time.  Next time.  All the time.  Not enough time.

I sit and I wait–trying to be present in the moment.  My thoughts race ahead of me, too fast to catch on.

I need more time with my grandmother.  I need to work on the power point presentation for work.  I need to make sure of my schedule for the fall semester.  I need to get a new notebook for work.  I need to look at keyboards and cases for my ipad.  I need to make too many truffles this weekend.  And I need to pick up more small boxes.  Why did I say I would do all that?  There’s no getting out of it now.  I’m so stupid for saying I would.  I don’t want to see my therapist again this week.  I already saw her once.  I don’t need to see her a second time.  I need to be an adult about this.  I need to get over this shit.  I can do thisonmyown.  Igotmyselfintothismessinthefirstplacesoit’suptometogetmyselfout.  IknowwhatIneedtodo.  Whycan’tIjustgetovermyselfandDOIT? WHYCAN’TIDOIT?

There’s more, but I can’t catch it.  My mind feels out of breath.  I need my head to slow down.

s l o w d o w n.

But I can’t.  I have to keep going.  The more I have going on outside, the quieter it gets on the inside.  I need it quiet in my head.  But it all gets to be too much.

 

 

Extended Family Woes

I’m not very close with my mother’s side of the family. They’ve never really been open towards me. And I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that my dad and I are Hispanic. But they would never admit to that.

I kinda had this all figured out by the time I was 11, so I’ve had plenty of time to be angry, hurt, and resentful of it. I’ve also managed to work through these feelings and thoughts in therapy. I understand this has nothing to do with me. They were brought up differently and have different values and moral. I’m not faulting them that at all.

My mother has denied this for years. Years, I tell you. Up until about 4 months ago when she finally began to see things with her own two eyes. And it hurt her. A lot. Her family also started treating her poorly. And I think that was the catalyst for her. And she’s hurt. The other day my dad found her crying over the way her sisters have been treating her and the fact that I wasn’t invited to a cousin’s baby shower.

When my mom told me she got an invitation, and I hadn’t, I knew I had been left out. But I hadn’t been expecting to get invited in the first place. And I was okay with that. I spent years being okay with not being included in events on her side of the family. This was nothing new. I didn’t even think about it. It was barely a blip on my radar.

Then the phone call came last night. A different cousin left a long winded and very unnecessary voice mail.

Hi D! This cousin J. I was just calling because I wanted to let you know I had your wrong address. And I didn’t realize. I didn’t want you to think you weren’t invited. I don’t have any extra invitations so this is your formal invite. It’s going to be in June, in a different state. Hope you can make it. RSVP. Call me back and let me know. Bye.

This message is what gets me angry. It’s like carving out a wound on my arm when there was nothing there in the first place. She didn’t have to call. It’s not like anyone actually wants me there. I’m just really angry she made this call. Why? To make herself feel like a good person? I wish just would have left well enough alone. Then I wouldn’t be feeling like this.

I so want to tell the whole lot of them what I really think of them. But to spare my mother any more pain and not sink to their level and not waste my time and energy, I won’t. But I did manage to rearrange by Facebook privacy settings to longer include them. They don’t need to know what goes on in my life. I am happy with the extended family (irl and online) that I have created.

And I’m Still Hurting

I want him out of my head. I shouldn’t be thinking about him. I don’t want to see his face when I close my eyes.  I don’t want to want to feel his touch. I don’t want the good memories to make me smile and miss him even more than I already so. My lungs feel tight and my breaths are shallow. It just hurts.
I’m tired of feeling. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I can’t handle anymore pain. I just want to be numb.
Numb.
n u m b.
Strategically planning when I can be alone and what I want to have. There will be NO interruptions. I have the time to myself.
To stop the emotions from coming up, I block their way with chips and cake and rice and ice cream. I need these feeling stay down and out of the way. I can’t function when I feel like that.
I stop in the midst of shoveling food in my mouth and look and what I’ve done. Full of embarrassment and shame, I hang my head and try to think of a way out.
You said you’d never do this again. Now look at yourself. How can you even look at yourself. You’re so disgusting and vile. How can anyone stand to be around you? Well the damage has been done, but let’s make sure you really feel it.
Back to the kitchen I go to get the food that hurts. One handful on the way out. Two handfuls as I sit down. I can’t cram the food in fast enough.  But when I’ve deemed it’s been enough, I walk to the bathroom.
I dread the bathroom.
I love the bathroom.
The ritual starts.
Get everything out.  Geteverythingout.  GETEVERYTHINGOUTNOW!  It hurts because you’re horrible.  If you weren’t horrible, you wouldn’t be doing this to yourself…  your husband would have stayed…  you would have control.  Control.  Get everything out and never do this again.  You need to control yourself.
My heart has been cut up into a million pieces.
I try to put it back together, but can’t see through my tears.