Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Warrior.

I consider myself to be a recovery warrior because recovery is a daily battle. I'm a fighter; I'm strong because I've gone through battles in the past and I've made it through. Even if I regress or have a relapse or a lapse of judgement again and again. I've made it through every time. It's how I got to be where I am right now. I'm stronger because of every fall. I know more about myself because of them. Through every fear, fake smile, fake laughter, stupid relationship, dysfunctional relationship, bad habit, maladaptive behavior, broken heart, change, positive experience, treatment program, hospital stay, cry, breakdown. Through EVERYTHING. it has all shaped me to who I am right now, today. This minute. This second. And I've just decided that I'm proud of every fall. You know why? Because each time, I learned how to get back up and I did. I always do, no matter how hard.

I argue. I get pissed. Angry. I get uncomfortable. Feel shitty. I yell. I scream. Have my weak moments, days, months... I have lapses of faith in myself. But every single time, I come out a stronger person.

And it feels damn good. That's what makes me a warrior.

Saturday, June 09, 2012

Sincere.

When we get support from others, especially those who understand what we're going through, it's important to be sincere.

Frequently, on twitter (you can find me at @jadorelissa if you have one), I get so much support and am supportive to girls who get what I'm going through and vice versa. It's truly beautiful. We're sincere to each other in that we are honest to each other in the process and truly mean what we say. We care about each other. And I'm sincerely grateful that these girls have come into my life.

So what does "sincere" really mean?

This is how the dictionary describes it:



sin·cere/sinˈsi(ə)r/
Adjective:
Free from pretense or deceit; proceeding from genuine feelings.
(of a person) Saying what they genuinely feel or believe; not dishonest or hypocritical.


But I'm not going to put it up in some holding cell, that it has to mean that. I think a word can have different meanings to each person, through their experiences and because of the different way people lead their own lives. When I first read the word "sincere" for this challenge, I found myself drawing a blank. I use "sincerely" in sentences a lot, but what does it mean to be sincere? Singling out the word was a bit scary. I believe that it has a good, positive meaning. Honesty. Genuineness. Truth. Believing in something (or someone.) That is what I think of when I see or use the word "sincere."

Thursday, June 07, 2012

Crazy.

What's crazy is how little control we can have over how we live our lives.

My dad's principal cut off our health insurance illegally. We need it.

My mom has fybromyalgia, peripheral neuropathy, and arthritis. My dad has rheumatoid arthritis and high blood pressure. I have epilepsy. We all suffer from anxiety, however for my dad it's pretty extreme; he has OCD. My mom and I suffer from depression and eating disorders. She compulsively over-eats and I restrict.

We need doctors. Which costs money. Our insurance was very good and covered a lot of things very well. Now that we're, in a sense, stuck without it, my mom wasn't sure if she was going to be able to get the surgery she needs for her knee and I am not sure I I'll be able to finish my intensive outpatient program for my eating disorder. Everything costs money, and a lot of it.

We're trying to get it reinstated and my dad's union is working hard for that. We even had to pay for another form of our insurance for one month til we're sure that we have it back. Which is quite expensive.



All of this crap is crazy. And overwhelming and scary.

Tuesday, June 05, 2012

Power.

Power. Such a strong word. Influential. Leader. Batteries. Electricity. Light. Money. Someone people listen to because they have to. Law. President. Politics. Magic. A wand. Harry Potter.

A voice.

Of reason.

Butterflies in your tummy. Love. Rainbows and butterflies. Holding hands. Your very first kiss with someone. Genuine smiles. Grinning. Wanting. Longing. Forever. Belonging. The missing piece to someone's puzzle. Dreaming. Your wedding day. Having your first child. Babies. Puppies. Caring. Together. Fitting. Happiness. Love. Lust. Sex. Being someone's first. Lasting.

The unknown. Fear. Excitement. Feelings. Something new. Something old. Something that belonged to someone you loved. Family. Shelter. Food. Water. Dreams.

Disorders. Therapy. Treatment. Recovery. A journey. Not a destination.

Comfort. Believing.

A warm blanket. Writing. Traveling. Adventures. Taking pictures. Videos. Nostalgia.

Creativity.

Possibility. Acceptance. Believing that it'll all be alright.

Monday, June 04, 2012

Invisible.

When I think "invisible," I think of high school. I think of low self-esteem, sadness, depression, crying, isolating myself, cutting to deal with all of the insecurities, suicidal thoughts and even an attempt, and being sent to a psych ward. I think of hating myself. I think of how out of touch with reality I was then. Always thinking I wasn't and would never be as cool as the "popular" girls, which kinda sucked being that they used to live on my block. (I'm actually still kinda jealous of them, which is ridiculous, I am well aware.) High school seemed to be all about social hierarchy, and I put myself in my own little circle. With the wannabe punks and goths and badasses. 


After the ninth grade, my mother got me tested at school because she thought I was cracking under the pressure and I kept her awake late to help me with some of the homework. She forced this on me and I ended up being put in fucking special ed. It was kind of hard to think highly of myself when I was put on the same level of those who were mentally retarded and those who weren't that smart. I felt so stupid and I was so angry at my mother for this. This didn't make me look any better to the twins and the rest of their crew. (The twins are the ones that lived on my block.) I felt below everyone in the school and in the universe. The only people who really know besides the school, parents, and my sister, are my boyfriend, my ex best friend at the time, and one of my friends. It's not exactly something I'm proud of. I just felt so low and dealt with it by constantly isolating myself from my family, cutting, and not doing the homework because I was "too smart for special ed." So my grades got low. That showed my mom and the school! So yeah, you could say my self-esteem was pretty much non-existent. 


In senior year of high school, my eating habits changed drastically. I wanted more than to disappear because of all the other crap, but I wanted to lose weight for the first time in my life. I remember, at prom, there was a table of deserts. I loved brownies, but all I could think about was the calories and gaining weight. I had started starving myself that year and I'm struggling with it to this day.


I don't want to disappear anymore. I want to be strong and inspirational. I want to save lives because I lived through all of that. If I could save myself, then you can, too.

Change.

I've gone through so much change in my life, it's kind of hard to know where to start. But this is my blog and I can post whatever I want. 


This whole blog is a change! In my life, in my recovery, in how I go about my day. Every time I wake up, there's an instant change. Change is everywhere and everything. Every step I take, every move I make (I am not trying to rip off that great song, trust me), every thought... it changes from one to another. Sad to happy to excited to irritable to lonely to whatever other mood I am experiencing in that moment.


I'd like to focus here on the changes in my recovery. Two months ago, I realized that I had relapsed back into my eating disordered ways. I don't know how long ago I actually relapsed. I just know that I was constantly making excuses to not eat meals. THAT's a change. You see, 4 summers ago, I went into residential treatment for my eating disorder and worked my ass off to get better/towards recovery/a life free of my eating disorder. So, here I am, post-relapse, if you will, in an IOP program to get myself back to where I was after I left residential. Those are filled with changes. 




I didn't realize, really, just how much change is part of life, without even thinking about it. It literally just happens. And that's kinda cool. No, that's VERY cool. It's AWESOME. 


I wanted to make so deep, insightful post, but I realized that it doesn't have to be that way. I may regret this later while over-analyzing what I just did here on the internet, but here goes nothing.