Uprooted…

I'm melancholy today. Thinking on my life and measuring how far I've come; I feel a sadness for those I've left behind. Yet, I know they were left behind for good reasons, be they public or private. Sometimes I find it hard to let go, although I know I'm letting go for my own sake and sanity.

I've turned to a new chapter in the book of my life. I'm happy. Finally. I've let go of those few people who let their drama bleed into my life. I'm making decisions that are beneficial to my well-being. I may be growing up and branching out; although I would not compare myself to a tree. I don't hold those deep roots full of the past.

My Story...

I wish I had a story to tell.  A story that others would lean in close to listen to.  Their eyes would light up at the exciting parts and moisten at the sad ones.  A story that those who hear it will want to pass it along to everyone they know.  They'll say, "listen to this..." and recount my tale of happiness and woe. 

The Warrior Pose...

I am a warrior woman.  Strong and proud.  The air that I breathe is sweet and clean.  I stand tall; head high and shoulders back.  Inhale, hold it.  Count to five and exhale, letting go of my cares and worries.  My body relaxes and my muscles are loose.  My heart beats out a staccato rhythm that says I am not one to be messed with. 

The Long Way…

So, I decided it's time to make some changes. I'm going to start walking more. Hoping that making these small changes will help lead to bigger changes. Like less binging and more healthful choices. I know it seems like I'm harping on the whole thing with this being my second entry about it, but I am hoping to turn the corner and stop some of my bad habits that have led me down this path. Fair warning: my blog is going to contain a lot of talk about this in the coming posts because I'm hoping this is going to consume my life and take over the eating. We'll see what happens.

Airing Out The Laundry...

There are 5 more weeks left in the semester.  I'm losing steam.  Here I sit, writing for enjoyment when I should be reading my Gender and Society textbook.  A mere 2 chapters left and I will have worked through the entire book.  What a good feeling that is!  Apparently it's not a good enough feeling to sit down and read through them, though! 

What I'd really rather be doing is napping.  Or eating.  I've been struggling with my eating as of late and it's taking it's toll on me and my weight.  It's compulsive.  I don't want to binge...I tell myself to stop while I'm doing it.  I feel powerless, though.  I stand in the kitchen, eating whatever I can put together while calling myself names and doing the whole 'negative self talk' gig.  It's disgusting.  And sad.  It's not a matter of willpower, it's more a matter of...well...I don't really know.  It's just this thing I do and I feel horrible while doing it.   

This is the second time I've written publicly about it.  I wrote a monologue for a course last Spring.  I was encouraged to perform it.  Do a 'one woman show' sort of deal.  It's always in the back of my mind.  Writing it was so cathartic...but I only showed it to a select group of individuals.  My professor, a couple of classmates...and I read a short bit to my whole class.  D mentioned it the other day.  Said I should reconsider getting it published/performed.  I dunno...it's so private.  Maybe, though, that is the boost I need.  Taking the private into the public might help begin my journey of healing. 

Another thing that would help the healing and maybe help me stop the binges...discussing this in therapy.  I feel such immense shame while I'm binging and even refuse to discuss it with my closest confidant, D.  I wonder sometimes if she knows the extent of my issues.  Something tells me she does.  She just *knows* me like that.  My therapist doesn't know, though.  It's my dirty little secret.  I think I'm afraid to mention it.  Mostly because I know this is probably an eating disorder.  No, not probably.  It is an eating disorder. 

Wow.  Where the hell did that all come from?  I considered erasing it.  Writing on something lighter...but, instead, I've left it where it is.  Staring me down.  Taunting me.  Tempting me into the kitchen because I feel vulnerable and that is one of my triggers.  I'm trying to resist.  God.  It's so hard.

Test…

I found a free app for my iPhone that posts to my personal blog. We'll see. This is the test run…

A Jumble Of Thoughts Deposited Here For Your Viewing Pleasure...

November 1st.  Where has the year gone?  I feel like I have been sleeping for months and just woke up this morning...November 1st.  Here it is, nearing the end of the year and the semester.  My 3rd semester at IUPUI.  I'm plugging right along.  The world is happening around me and I'm plugging right along.  Let's revisit that.  The world is happening around me.  Am I happening, too?  Am I making my mark, leaving my legacy, causing general mayhem?  I try.  Perhaps not quite hard enough, though.  Do I need to find a way to leave a footprint the size of Bigfoot's to feel accomplished?  Feels that way sometimes.  I carry the need to make myself known.

One of my therapy goals is to get out and DO something.  I think she means it literally...I'd much rather take it figuratively.  I want to get out and do something, make something, cause a scene.  But, quietly...so as not to draw attention to myself.  Speaking softly but causing a stir.  A disturbance in the air around you.  Something you aren't quite sure about, but know it's gonna be good.  You just know that something is afoot but it's not yet tangible.  That's me.  A disturbance.  A Whirling Dervish.  A tornado.  Okay, maybe not that much of a commotion.  But still, a commotion.  

Switchblade Posse...

Me and my crew (part of my crew, anyway...D and Maxine Dangerous) are headed out tonight to Talbott. I've got my digits crossed that April can make it, too.  Not sure what in the hell possessed me to wanna go out tonight.  I dislike bars, for the most part...but I woke up wanting to be stimulated.  (Minds outta the gutter, folks!)  Usually, stimulation like bars and concerts and the like throw me into a panic attack.  Large crowds pressing in on me...the excitement in the air...it takes it's toll on me.  I guess (to a degree) I am a bit of an emotional vampire.  I tend to absorb the energy of others or of a situation and take it on as my own.  It ends up overwhelming me and I have a panic attack.  Weird, I know.

Anyway, all vampirisim aside, I'm looking forward to this evening.  I feel safe with my crew...and I know they have my back and my best interests at heart.  They all know the signs of my panic attacks and how to deal with them.  My panic attacks manifest themselves as Oculogyric Crises.  Basically, the only way to describe it is like a seizure of my eyeballs.  They roll up into the back of my head and to the right.  It's nearly impossible to bring them back down and hurts like a mofo while it's going on.  After it's all over and I've calmed down, I'm exhausted...just like I'd had a seizure.  There is only 2 ways that I've found that work to get me calmed down...an extra nerve pill...and, well, another way.  (Don't ask...you don't wanna know.)  Takes about 30-45 mins for most of them and I have a couple a week.  Sucks, I know.

Hopefully we have a smashing time this evening.  I'm really excited about seeing Maxine.  It's been a minute since we've hung out.  And...I'm really excited about getting dressed up all spiffy-like.  I love dressing up to go out.  I've been thinking about my outfit all day.  I'm thinking that I'm wearing black, wide-leg pants and either a sleeveless black and white corset-looking top or a shimmery gold top with short sleeves.  D will get final say once I model them both for her. 

Now, it's time to go fiddle with the Wii, make some dinner, and get ready.  Hope you all have as good a time this evening as I'm planning to!

Sleep...

The dark curtain of night falls down over another day. Ending the play with a standing ovation in pinks across the horizon line. I glance to my left and smile at the Shamrock plant in the windowsill. The sun has gone to bed and so has the pretty little plant; its tender leaves and diminutive white flowers closing up and drooping their heads in slumber. Night has come and the softness of my bed beckons to me. I await the sleep to cover me with a drowsiness that will carry me through another night of lucid dreams. I wonder what tonight’s sleep will bring as I anticipate Mr. Sandman.

I mentally run through the day. Focusing on the parts that I want to relive and tossing away the unpleasant memories. Once I vow to forget, it’s relinquished from my psyche; a skill I have possessed since childhood. Most likely brought on by one of the more unpleasant experiences, my mind has the ability to become ‘selectively Swiss’. Objectionable memories fade out to form the holes in the cheese, whereas the agreeable ones stick around to grace my dreams-both day and night-with their presence.

My eyes flutter closed. I don’t fight the pull of the night as I slip away, easing into the blackness. The dreams wash over me like waves licking at my toes. Season after season, the night is a constant. Throughout the changes in my life, the evening invariably comes. With it brings the vividness of the hours of darkness. Colors light up the nighttime. I’m visited by ghosts from the past. Through sleep I am reunited with those I’ve lost, if only for a brief moment.

The spirits of my history comfort me throughout the dark of night. Easing the pain of loss by stopping by for a quick hello. I feel at peace while I softly snore and murmur hello’s to friends and family past. It cannot last, though. I know this and am okay with it. At least we have the night. At least we have this time of peace and respite to interact once again. For this, I am grateful. I do not take for granted my dreams.

Here Comes The Rain (du dn du du)...

i'm waiting on the rain. i can smell it coming. the clouds are fluffy but beginning to darken on the horizon. i can't wait. rain does something to my soul. just as it waters the flowers and grass, it replenishes me. summer storms popping up. booming thunder and sharp slices of lightening through the sky. coming and going just as quick as the seasons seem to change. new growth follows in it's wake. flowers (and weeds that masquerade as flowers) spring from the ground and say hello to the sun that follows the rain.

i hum an old Beatles tune...'little darling, the smiles returning to the faces, little darling, it seems like years since it's been here'.