This is not meant to bring you back into my life. I wouldn't want that. We couldn't have that. too much has been said. Too much has been done. Too much time has passed and nothing really changes for real... does it?
There was a time that you were everything to me and more. As with everything that has ever mattered to me in my life, you became the white in the sea of black. My world did not matter unless you were in it. Holding my hand. Holding me up. I never knew why it was like that. Why it was imperative for you to be there. Why you had to bring the happiness for me. Why I couldn't just go and look for it myself.
Maybe it didn't exist, my happiness. Or maybe it was lost in the abyss that was my life then. Or maybe I threw it up one sad afternoon. But something in me knew that I couldn't find it. And for whatever reason, I believed you had some magical key. The key that would unlock a permanent smile. A better day. An easier life.
But you didn't have the key. In fact, you didn't have any key at all. You had just you. And I didn't think that was enough at the time. I NEEDED you to have that key! Because I was too lost in my darkness to find it and it always seemed that you were a bright enough light that you could help me search.
Today I realize that I will be forced to wander through the darkness of my life for eternity searching for the key to my happiness. And I see clearly that it was never really your job at all. So I am sorry that I passed the buck to you. That I made it your job. That my life was in your hands.
That's a weight no one should have to carry.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Does it end?
This roller coaster seems to be one big fucking loop.
I am tired.
I'd like to get off now.
I am tired.
I'd like to get off now.
Monday, May 31, 2010
they always say "write about something you love"
Today, after 4 straight days of no voice, coughing up a lung and basically moving from the couch to the bath to my bed, I made the worst decision of my life... I decided to watch Marley and Me. Regardless of the attractive cast and the incredibly cute casting for the part(s) of Marley in the movie, it was by far the worst movie I ever saw. Not because the writing wasn't great (it was); or because the acting wasn't great (it was too); but because the dog dies at the end. Sorry if I ruined the movie for you, but trust me you will thank me.
The whole movie I laughed as this terror of a dog matured into semi-terrorist. Being so opposing to my own dog, part of me judged and part of me loved the relationship Marley had with Jen & John. "In all fairness, Jan" I thought, "He doesn't seem to bark at every single person who walks through the door. And he certainly isn't possessive of his owners. Can't say the same for my well trained, obedient monkey."
By the end, as Marley's life starts to comes to lull then rest, I was hysterical at the idea that my own Little Rascal might not live forever. The thought haunts me all the time and her second birthday is only a week away! The notion that one day I might not wake up to the tiny body at my feet and then be devoured by kisses terrifies me to a silence I do not ever possess outside of this thought.
Simply put - my dog is my life. I live for her in equal amounts to the way she lives for me. Eager since the moment we laid eyes on each other to be together - shes my life. At 6 weeks old I went to go pick up her sister (having wanted a brown Pomeranian), and the moment I was close enough, my baby girl jumped out of the arms of the breeder and straight into mine! Love at first sight. My boyfriend at the time didn't even need to ask if I was sure that I wanted the white with black spotted puppy instead. It was clear we were meant to be together.
We had a rough start though (as many couples do). There was the backlash of my family who insisted that I did not need a puppy {at this time I was so far into my ED I was certain that my family had zero clue what I needed}. Then there was the break up from my work-from-home-and-take-care-of-the-puppy boyfriend. Apparently being left alone during the day and spending the evenings with a sobbing, hysterical, mostly crazy mom isn't the ideal life for a puppy... go figure.
But we got some training {email me for more info on the best trainer in the city} and some day care {email me for this too!} and within a few weeks, we were on track with our training and on the path to becoming the most dynamic duo you've ever seen.
Not only does my wonder-pup sit, stay and remain potty trained, she also walks slowly down hills, sits at corners to avoid running into traffic, doesn't chase birds, squirrels or babies in the park, and she drops a cookie mid-bite! Anyone who has ever owned a dog knows the incredibility of this!
Like any dog owner, it is not because she is well behaved (or badly behaved depending on the day) that I love her. It is because she loves me. And it's the best kind of love there is. The unconditional, infinite love that only dogs can give. The kind that gets her as excited when I come back from the garbage chute as when I come home from a full day of being out without her (a rarity I must admit).
I know that I always have a belly to snuggle with when I am crying uncontrollably, or a playmate when I want to catch a moment's glimpse of the sheer happiness that is tug-of-war with our favorite pink (pre-destuffed) flamingo.
She reminds me on sad cold days that the cold, ice and snow can be the most enjoyable thing in the world. And on the warm days she reminds me that some times it is okay - even needed - to cool down a little. Every day of her life, she goes through the motions in a way I strive to. That is to say that every day she eats, she plays with toys and with other dogs, she smiles, she listens, she does her own thing (a little too often lately for my liking). She pees and poops. When she doesn't want something she leaves it, when she does, she indulges. She just is.
My family has always joked that when we come back in our next lives (something Jewish people do not believe in), we want to come back as a Jewish dog. I have to say, whomever got that wish in the form of my Little Rascal is one lucky soul!
So as I sit now, having somewhat recouped from the terror of Marley and Me, I can appreciate how the story came to be. And for now, I will continue to feed Rascal her live-forever pills and pray that they work for many more years to come so that one day she can come to the screening of our lives in theaters.
The whole movie I laughed as this terror of a dog matured into semi-terrorist. Being so opposing to my own dog, part of me judged and part of me loved the relationship Marley had with Jen & John. "In all fairness, Jan" I thought, "He doesn't seem to bark at every single person who walks through the door. And he certainly isn't possessive of his owners. Can't say the same for my well trained, obedient monkey."
By the end, as Marley's life starts to comes to lull then rest, I was hysterical at the idea that my own Little Rascal might not live forever. The thought haunts me all the time and her second birthday is only a week away! The notion that one day I might not wake up to the tiny body at my feet and then be devoured by kisses terrifies me to a silence I do not ever possess outside of this thought.
Simply put - my dog is my life. I live for her in equal amounts to the way she lives for me. Eager since the moment we laid eyes on each other to be together - shes my life. At 6 weeks old I went to go pick up her sister (having wanted a brown Pomeranian), and the moment I was close enough, my baby girl jumped out of the arms of the breeder and straight into mine! Love at first sight. My boyfriend at the time didn't even need to ask if I was sure that I wanted the white with black spotted puppy instead. It was clear we were meant to be together.
We had a rough start though (as many couples do). There was the backlash of my family who insisted that I did not need a puppy {at this time I was so far into my ED I was certain that my family had zero clue what I needed}. Then there was the break up from my work-from-home-and-take-care-of-the-puppy boyfriend. Apparently being left alone during the day and spending the evenings with a sobbing, hysterical, mostly crazy mom isn't the ideal life for a puppy... go figure.
But we got some training {email me for more info on the best trainer in the city} and some day care {email me for this too!} and within a few weeks, we were on track with our training and on the path to becoming the most dynamic duo you've ever seen.
Not only does my wonder-pup sit, stay and remain potty trained, she also walks slowly down hills, sits at corners to avoid running into traffic, doesn't chase birds, squirrels or babies in the park, and she drops a cookie mid-bite! Anyone who has ever owned a dog knows the incredibility of this!
Like any dog owner, it is not because she is well behaved (or badly behaved depending on the day) that I love her. It is because she loves me. And it's the best kind of love there is. The unconditional, infinite love that only dogs can give. The kind that gets her as excited when I come back from the garbage chute as when I come home from a full day of being out without her (a rarity I must admit).
I know that I always have a belly to snuggle with when I am crying uncontrollably, or a playmate when I want to catch a moment's glimpse of the sheer happiness that is tug-of-war with our favorite pink (pre-destuffed) flamingo.
She reminds me on sad cold days that the cold, ice and snow can be the most enjoyable thing in the world. And on the warm days she reminds me that some times it is okay - even needed - to cool down a little. Every day of her life, she goes through the motions in a way I strive to. That is to say that every day she eats, she plays with toys and with other dogs, she smiles, she listens, she does her own thing (a little too often lately for my liking). She pees and poops. When she doesn't want something she leaves it, when she does, she indulges. She just is.
My family has always joked that when we come back in our next lives (something Jewish people do not believe in), we want to come back as a Jewish dog. I have to say, whomever got that wish in the form of my Little Rascal is one lucky soul!
So as I sit now, having somewhat recouped from the terror of Marley and Me, I can appreciate how the story came to be. And for now, I will continue to feed Rascal her live-forever pills and pray that they work for many more years to come so that one day she can come to the screening of our lives in theaters.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
starving for attention
PREAMBLE: we were told to look at the titles of the books in the library and then write our own story based on the title...
One of five. Four brothers. Sandwiched by two older and two younger - I was not born prepared to battle middle child syndrome. It was just "us", but as time went by, more voices came into my world. Suddenly I was yelling over the noise. Video games, sports, music that just never appealed to me.
I was sad. Had divorced a father and shifted the actor as the man who played the lead roll of 'Daddy' in "Daddy's Little Girl". I was no longer the oldest and wisest child. I became loud and boisterous. A conversation starter. A liar.
I wanted to be heard over the noise, but everyone had their own troubles adjusting to becoming one of five and no one really got heard.
As I got older, my voice got louder; more yelling, more tears. Less listening though. No one seemed tuned in. I quickly realized the power of restriction. "She eats like a bird!" "Is that all you want?" "Finish it and you can have what you'd like - whatever you'd like."
FINALLY - A Voice! A way to show everyone that I was there too! That we all need special attention. Each and everyone one (of five).
The less I ate, the more attention I got. As the years past it too became part of the wall of sound of five. When I felt lost and lonely, it was that same voice that brought them back and reminded them that at least this one of five needed to be heard.
Today, starving for attention fails me because there is judgment that I am not working hard enough. But forever in my heart, I will remember that for most of my life to date, the best way to be heard was to starve for the attention.
One of five. Four brothers. Sandwiched by two older and two younger - I was not born prepared to battle middle child syndrome. It was just "us", but as time went by, more voices came into my world. Suddenly I was yelling over the noise. Video games, sports, music that just never appealed to me.
I was sad. Had divorced a father and shifted the actor as the man who played the lead roll of 'Daddy' in "Daddy's Little Girl". I was no longer the oldest and wisest child. I became loud and boisterous. A conversation starter. A liar.
I wanted to be heard over the noise, but everyone had their own troubles adjusting to becoming one of five and no one really got heard.
As I got older, my voice got louder; more yelling, more tears. Less listening though. No one seemed tuned in. I quickly realized the power of restriction. "She eats like a bird!" "Is that all you want?" "Finish it and you can have what you'd like - whatever you'd like."
FINALLY - A Voice! A way to show everyone that I was there too! That we all need special attention. Each and everyone one (of five).
The less I ate, the more attention I got. As the years past it too became part of the wall of sound of five. When I felt lost and lonely, it was that same voice that brought them back and reminded them that at least this one of five needed to be heard.
Today, starving for attention fails me because there is judgment that I am not working hard enough. But forever in my heart, I will remember that for most of my life to date, the best way to be heard was to starve for the attention.
grandparents
6 months home.
6 months gone.
Ever present invisible heroes in my heart
Know my soul
Heal my heart
Do they know I can never lose them?
6 months gone.
Ever present invisible heroes in my heart
Know my soul
Heal my heart
Do they know I can never lose them?
The Dress vs. The Sweats
This one needs a bit of a preamble. We were instructed to take two crayons - one we liked and one we didn't- and draw two characters and write about them. I drew two women. One on the right wearing a beautiful pink flowy dress with her eyes bright and a smile on her face. On the left I drew a similar girl in green sweats with eyes closed and a pout. And so the story goes...
She is the same character. It is simply her outfit that changes her. On the right she is confident and beautiful. Pretty most would say - and she knows it! Her dress flows and her thoughts don't move as fast as a bullet train. She is happy and brings smiles to those in her proximity. She has a fun-loving, carefree attitude and people love her.
But the left.
The left is all she has been lately. The same as the right, but with the smile faded and eyes closed. Baggy clothes, no confidence, no cheery disposition. Negative thoughts cram her mind and nothing will keep them from spinning. No effort. She has forgotten to be beautiful and the dress from the right feels uncomfortable. Not because it is too tight (which it is), but because its' beauty feels wrong on the same body, as long as the inner thoughts tell her so.
Oh to be the right side. But alas, it just doesn't feel right any more...
She is the same character. It is simply her outfit that changes her. On the right she is confident and beautiful. Pretty most would say - and she knows it! Her dress flows and her thoughts don't move as fast as a bullet train. She is happy and brings smiles to those in her proximity. She has a fun-loving, carefree attitude and people love her.
But the left.
The left is all she has been lately. The same as the right, but with the smile faded and eyes closed. Baggy clothes, no confidence, no cheery disposition. Negative thoughts cram her mind and nothing will keep them from spinning. No effort. She has forgotten to be beautiful and the dress from the right feels uncomfortable. Not because it is too tight (which it is), but because its' beauty feels wrong on the same body, as long as the inner thoughts tell her so.
Oh to be the right side. But alas, it just doesn't feel right any more...
Finding the Light .... Defining the Dark
Finding the Light
Everything seemed wrong until my eyes opened fully. The world seemed dark and gloomy - but it always does through the slits of your lashes. Sitting on that couch amongst people with eyes barely open too, we learned how to see the world. Together we let the light back into our lives and it shone brightly through our faces.
Soon the light became too bright for us, and our eyes began to squint instinctively. But we were reminded that the world looks better in the light than in the empty nothingness we meet in the dark. There is beauty in the places that the sun's rays go to.
Defining the Dark
The darkness comes from the isolation and depression that joins bipolar, eating disorders and borderline personality disorder. No one "gets me". They don't hear my voice. Can not see my pain. Can not feel the reverberating sadness within that I feel. Don not need to pay attention to the realities...
Stay on the surface.
Put on a smile.
Never feel your sadness. Eat it. Throw it up. Drink it down. Take a chill pill (or 10). Feel nothing and do as you should. Let happiness find you. Don't waste your time seeking it! Shut your eyes and know your darkness. For that is all you will ever have...
Everything seemed wrong until my eyes opened fully. The world seemed dark and gloomy - but it always does through the slits of your lashes. Sitting on that couch amongst people with eyes barely open too, we learned how to see the world. Together we let the light back into our lives and it shone brightly through our faces.
Soon the light became too bright for us, and our eyes began to squint instinctively. But we were reminded that the world looks better in the light than in the empty nothingness we meet in the dark. There is beauty in the places that the sun's rays go to.
Defining the Dark
The darkness comes from the isolation and depression that joins bipolar, eating disorders and borderline personality disorder. No one "gets me". They don't hear my voice. Can not see my pain. Can not feel the reverberating sadness within that I feel. Don not need to pay attention to the realities...
Stay on the surface.
Put on a smile.
Never feel your sadness. Eat it. Throw it up. Drink it down. Take a chill pill (or 10). Feel nothing and do as you should. Let happiness find you. Don't waste your time seeking it! Shut your eyes and know your darkness. For that is all you will ever have...
I didn't know how to be careful
A not so simple meal. An extravagant birthday celebration sheilding the night from being what it was - ur first date! He was my friend since brith - literally! Our moms were pregnant together and shared a labour day - I was just stubborn and turned up two days later!
He picked me up - but we always agree to meet up. "Wear something nice" he had said. "Heels too". Dinner was a dream. I was eating and not obsessing about the food. I was enjoying his company - living in the moment for the first time in ages!
He already had my heart and I had his too. It was as if our hearts came on the same platter as the procuiuto and duck's heart. He wouldn't go near the duck hear, but mine was in his hands already.
He drove me home - but he always drops me at the subway. "What a great night" he had said. Silence. I didn't know how to be careful with my heart. I rarely ever tell my heart what to do. Just a stupid girl.
We kiss. 24 years and 11/12ths of waiting wrapped up in one moment. He reaches for me - no for my hand. He isn't a vulture. He is my best friend 0 and we are kissing! "careful...""shut up brain!"
But the time isn't right. I'm too screwed up. Damn heart! Knows what it wants but just can't have it. I fight the reality- it sucks that we don't kiss anymore. He is still holding it though - my heart. Because I didn't really know how to be careful with it. Stupid Girl.
He picked me up - but we always agree to meet up. "Wear something nice" he had said. "Heels too". Dinner was a dream. I was eating and not obsessing about the food. I was enjoying his company - living in the moment for the first time in ages!
He already had my heart and I had his too. It was as if our hearts came on the same platter as the procuiuto and duck's heart. He wouldn't go near the duck hear, but mine was in his hands already.
He drove me home - but he always drops me at the subway. "What a great night" he had said. Silence. I didn't know how to be careful with my heart. I rarely ever tell my heart what to do. Just a stupid girl.
We kiss. 24 years and 11/12ths of waiting wrapped up in one moment. He reaches for me - no for my hand. He isn't a vulture. He is my best friend 0 and we are kissing! "careful...""shut up brain!"
But the time isn't right. I'm too screwed up. Damn heart! Knows what it wants but just can't have it. I fight the reality- it sucks that we don't kiss anymore. He is still holding it though - my heart. Because I didn't really know how to be careful with it. Stupid Girl.
Followed By A Scent
They know.
They all know.
One time, maybe two so the smell goes away.
Ten times I brush.
The smell follows,
But only I smell it.
Because it is my personal ghost.
My daemon odor.
And no one knows
That my scent has been tampered with.
They don't know.
They all won't know.
They all know.
One time, maybe two so the smell goes away.
Ten times I brush.
The smell follows,
But only I smell it.
Because it is my personal ghost.
My daemon odor.
And no one knows
That my scent has been tampered with.
They don't know.
They all won't know.
Identity Crisis Solved! ?
My brothers are the best part of who I am. I have created my identity through their understanding of who I am: Not just the sister (the only sister), The Princess - and not in the bad way! The one with never ending worry and concern for those I care about. Not tolerant or peaceful really, but loving none the less. A warm heart and perpetually open arms.
I have found serenity from my parents, from my mom, by defining myself the way my friends see me: patient at times, understanding with an adoring command for every individual who matters to me. Honest to te core and affectionate.
I have chosen to create my view through the eyes of others and not from the perspective of the wring side of the looking glass. Because I can't win that way. And the business of losing to myself makes for a very lonely battle.
I have found serenity from my parents, from my mom, by defining myself the way my friends see me: patient at times, understanding with an adoring command for every individual who matters to me. Honest to te core and affectionate.
I have chosen to create my view through the eyes of others and not from the perspective of the wring side of the looking glass. Because I can't win that way. And the business of losing to myself makes for a very lonely battle.
The battle
The following is a story I wrote in my writing group...
There is no understanding her. One minute it's up and within seconds it's down. "Which one will we get?" we ask ourselves. How can a thing be hard and easy? good and bad? There is NO understanding her.
She is lost. Did I lose her? Am I supposed to still be the leader? She said I'm not, but I don't think she is a good enough leader and it hurts to watch her not care to get so lost. There is no understanding her.
I feel responsible. But I didn't lead her here. I tugged and tugged to the right, but she fell so far to the left. She is to blame. She made these choices to be up and down all at once. *sigh* There is no understanding her...
She says I don't try. That I just don't get it. How can anyone get her? There is no understanding her!
I do all I can. Damn my humanity that I can't be the superhero she had been dreaming of. But she says "I know you are human and its okay"?! there is NO understanding her.
She's blaming me. She can't take blaming herself... or maybe blaming herself is all she does and she needs a break?
No.
She is to blame - not me.
She's sick.
She's confused.
And after all, there is no understanding her...
There is no understanding her. One minute it's up and within seconds it's down. "Which one will we get?" we ask ourselves. How can a thing be hard and easy? good and bad? There is NO understanding her.
She is lost. Did I lose her? Am I supposed to still be the leader? She said I'm not, but I don't think she is a good enough leader and it hurts to watch her not care to get so lost. There is no understanding her.
I feel responsible. But I didn't lead her here. I tugged and tugged to the right, but she fell so far to the left. She is to blame. She made these choices to be up and down all at once. *sigh* There is no understanding her...
She says I don't try. That I just don't get it. How can anyone get her? There is no understanding her!
I do all I can. Damn my humanity that I can't be the superhero she had been dreaming of. But she says "I know you are human and its okay"?! there is NO understanding her.
She's blaming me. She can't take blaming herself... or maybe blaming herself is all she does and she needs a break?
No.
She is to blame - not me.
She's sick.
She's confused.
And after all, there is no understanding her...
Sunday, May 23, 2010
A little perspective from the wrong side of the mirror
The irony of the title of today's post goes far deeper than those without an ED can understand.
Have you ever woken up and decided that today you are beautiful? Opened your eyes, saw a ray of sunlight that felt warm somewhere in the range of your right thigh and decided "it will be a wonderful day"? But then, something small happens and the day goes seemingly backward. The mirror.
In treatment we are told to get rid of scales. "They will do you no good and hinder your recovery". But mirrors are everywhere. On widow panes and subway doors. On TV reflections and in your bathroom. They can be very haunting. Like an annoying friend in kindergarten who just doesn't get that you do NOT want to be their friend - they are everywhere!
I have woken up many days and thought that it was going to be a beautiful one. And then the mirror strikes back and I find myself digging for some kind of alternative reality. I beg my friends to tell me I am pretty. Not just pretty. No no. Beautiful? sexy? stunning? attractive? better looking than ____? I find myself cornering the men in my life to validate me. To make me feel good.
From where I stand at the mirror I do not see a pretty face or a nice body or a good pair of legs or a rack most girls would pay good money for. Nope. I see sad eyes and a heart with too much love to give and no one to give it to.. A friend said to me "ya as long as u are in control of that sailboat and u can steer over those waves urself, ur good to go".. But in myself I see a self conscious girl with no clue where to go in life and no real co-captian to help steer - and this makes me feel lost.
Maybe I just need to get to the other side of the mirror? Perhaps there is some perspective on that side that I might agree with...
Have you ever woken up and decided that today you are beautiful? Opened your eyes, saw a ray of sunlight that felt warm somewhere in the range of your right thigh and decided "it will be a wonderful day"? But then, something small happens and the day goes seemingly backward. The mirror.
In treatment we are told to get rid of scales. "They will do you no good and hinder your recovery". But mirrors are everywhere. On widow panes and subway doors. On TV reflections and in your bathroom. They can be very haunting. Like an annoying friend in kindergarten who just doesn't get that you do NOT want to be their friend - they are everywhere!
I have woken up many days and thought that it was going to be a beautiful one. And then the mirror strikes back and I find myself digging for some kind of alternative reality. I beg my friends to tell me I am pretty. Not just pretty. No no. Beautiful? sexy? stunning? attractive? better looking than ____? I find myself cornering the men in my life to validate me. To make me feel good.
From where I stand at the mirror I do not see a pretty face or a nice body or a good pair of legs or a rack most girls would pay good money for. Nope. I see sad eyes and a heart with too much love to give and no one to give it to.. A friend said to me "ya as long as u are in control of that sailboat and u can steer over those waves urself, ur good to go".. But in myself I see a self conscious girl with no clue where to go in life and no real co-captian to help steer - and this makes me feel lost.
Maybe I just need to get to the other side of the mirror? Perhaps there is some perspective on that side that I might agree with...
Thursday, April 15, 2010
when a door closes....
I have been waiting for a window to open for me for nearly 365 days now.
We are coming up to the anniversary of the day I stopped going to work. The day I was hospitalized. The day of my suicide attempt that shook my family and friends to the core. The day I started treatment. And all this nostalgia has made me question "why am I doing this and what have I gained (other than weight)?"
Firstly, I have gained incredible supports. A group of people who have changed my life for the better and remind me each time I hear their voices on the phone, get their texts, or (if I'm lucky) see their beautiful faces, that the struggle is easier to do together.
Secondly, I have gained control. My temper no longer flares like it used to. My food no longer "disappears" in the morning. My meal plan is balanced and my exercise looks balanced too!
As you all know, treatment has been a series of challenges for me right from the get-go and I sit here typing away faced with yet another challenge. The only thing keeping me from going backwards is the realization that I have the power to actually move forward.
I've started reading a fantastic book called "The Happiness Project" http://www.happiness-project.com/ and it has made me begin to realize now more than ever, my happiness is entirely dependent on me. When faced with challenges, it is entirely up to me how I react and how I cope.
In the past I have read many self-help books. (Often when I feel lost I look to the blogs and the books for guidance where I feel my friends may either have limited information, or more information than I am prepared to deal with.) But this book wasn't preachy like the rest, and so I was able to take it all in for what it was - a guideline on how to be happier every single day.
For those of you who have visited my humble abode, you would know that for many months I had loving mantras hand written on my windows so that when a thought pops into my head, I can fight it with love. During my first months in treatment, those mantras often kept my head above the water and I am thankful that I could look through my home and see love.
This book has inspired me (as it has thousands of others) to start my own happiness project. Ironically, I have been on that journey for almost a year now. But it is today that I am looking at my life and really deciding to "Be Jana" (the author lives by "be Gretchen"). In the next few days I too will post my 12 commandments and my own secrets of adulthood as well as my own resolutions (complete with a resolutions chart) to be the best, happiest Jana I can be.
Depression plays a HUGE role in my life and for once, I would rather see the glass half full on a day when my mind tells me that "half empty feels like empty entirely". If this statement is true, then doesn't it make true that "half full should feel entirely full"?
Many of you have been there for me as I took my first steps into living healthy and now I ask that you please stay tuned as I start my journey into happiness.
xo A Surviving Survivor
We are coming up to the anniversary of the day I stopped going to work. The day I was hospitalized. The day of my suicide attempt that shook my family and friends to the core. The day I started treatment. And all this nostalgia has made me question "why am I doing this and what have I gained (other than weight)?"
Firstly, I have gained incredible supports. A group of people who have changed my life for the better and remind me each time I hear their voices on the phone, get their texts, or (if I'm lucky) see their beautiful faces, that the struggle is easier to do together.
Secondly, I have gained control. My temper no longer flares like it used to. My food no longer "disappears" in the morning. My meal plan is balanced and my exercise looks balanced too!
As you all know, treatment has been a series of challenges for me right from the get-go and I sit here typing away faced with yet another challenge. The only thing keeping me from going backwards is the realization that I have the power to actually move forward.
I've started reading a fantastic book called "The Happiness Project" http://www.happiness-project.com/ and it has made me begin to realize now more than ever, my happiness is entirely dependent on me. When faced with challenges, it is entirely up to me how I react and how I cope.
In the past I have read many self-help books. (Often when I feel lost I look to the blogs and the books for guidance where I feel my friends may either have limited information, or more information than I am prepared to deal with.) But this book wasn't preachy like the rest, and so I was able to take it all in for what it was - a guideline on how to be happier every single day.
For those of you who have visited my humble abode, you would know that for many months I had loving mantras hand written on my windows so that when a thought pops into my head, I can fight it with love. During my first months in treatment, those mantras often kept my head above the water and I am thankful that I could look through my home and see love.
This book has inspired me (as it has thousands of others) to start my own happiness project. Ironically, I have been on that journey for almost a year now. But it is today that I am looking at my life and really deciding to "Be Jana" (the author lives by "be Gretchen"). In the next few days I too will post my 12 commandments and my own secrets of adulthood as well as my own resolutions (complete with a resolutions chart) to be the best, happiest Jana I can be.
Depression plays a HUGE role in my life and for once, I would rather see the glass half full on a day when my mind tells me that "half empty feels like empty entirely". If this statement is true, then doesn't it make true that "half full should feel entirely full"?
Many of you have been there for me as I took my first steps into living healthy and now I ask that you please stay tuned as I start my journey into happiness.
xo A Surviving Survivor
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Another day, another triumph
Today is a 'me' day. Wake up late. Have the breakfast I like to have the very most when I have the time. Clean the apartment so I can feel less cluttered. Chat online. Watch girlie movies with wine (after 5pm). And get the news that I have yet another brave friend.
This friend lives over seas. We traveled together in 2006 and had one of those connections most people only find with two or three people in their entire lives [I have been fortunate to find this many times over in my life]. She is breath taking to look at. Smart. Witty. And had been dating the same moronic prick for about 7 years.
When we were traveling she confided in me that he had hit her a few times in the past, but played it off (as most women do) as no big deal. She said she loved him and he loved her and that after her short stint in Europe, she was going to go back to Australia to him.
Sad for her, I kept in touch but never once told her to leave him. I heard many stories about him and the horrible things she was living through from the other side of the planet.
A time or two I tried to set her straight and see what was really going on, but she would shut down completely.
But this morning, I got the message I had been waiting nearly 4 years for - she left him. She gave him back his ring, bought a home and ditched his ass.
I have been beaming with pride all day and just wanted to tell anyone reading this that just when you think you can't bring yourself out of the darkness, you will somehow find the strength to face your daemons and show them whose boss!
This friend lives over seas. We traveled together in 2006 and had one of those connections most people only find with two or three people in their entire lives [I have been fortunate to find this many times over in my life]. She is breath taking to look at. Smart. Witty. And had been dating the same moronic prick for about 7 years.
When we were traveling she confided in me that he had hit her a few times in the past, but played it off (as most women do) as no big deal. She said she loved him and he loved her and that after her short stint in Europe, she was going to go back to Australia to him.
Sad for her, I kept in touch but never once told her to leave him. I heard many stories about him and the horrible things she was living through from the other side of the planet.
A time or two I tried to set her straight and see what was really going on, but she would shut down completely.
But this morning, I got the message I had been waiting nearly 4 years for - she left him. She gave him back his ring, bought a home and ditched his ass.
I have been beaming with pride all day and just wanted to tell anyone reading this that just when you think you can't bring yourself out of the darkness, you will somehow find the strength to face your daemons and show them whose boss!
Monday, January 18, 2010
I love to laugh... loud and long and clear
I find that there are many days that I sit in isolation and I wonder "what am I doing this for?". I cry a lot. I average about a box of kleenex a month in tears. I cry about almost everything from emotional ads on tv to movies with happy endings to my own recovery. I slip quite quickly into depressions and find it hard to get out of them. But there is one lifesaver that I can toss myself to help me through those moments - comedy!!!
Saturday Night Live is one of my favorite shows. I tape it weekly and if I can't be home (or can't stay up), I can watch it during the week. Each new (and returning) host has my sides splitting and some times they even manage to get a good musical guest once in a while. If one week goes by without SNL, I feel like I have missed out on my catch up of news for the week - thank you very much weekend update! Simply put, I love Saturday Night Live.
Everyone needs a good laugh. My go to is SNL, but i will delve into anything from youtube quickies to hour and a half long stand-up specials on HBO. I love to laugh and always find myself thinking that I don't do it often enough
From www.mylifeisaverage.com to www.peopleofwalmart.com I find little ways to escape into hilarity - even if it is just for a moment or two.
It's been said that laughter is the best medicine, and I could not agree more. (Just have a look at John Mulaney's stand up about "The Best Meal Ever") I often find myself wishing there were hours upon hours of South Park and Summer Heights High marathons so that the laughter could go on forever.
The next time you are feeling down, flip on The Comedy Network, strap on that adult sized diaper and get ready to laugh until your sides split! It will boost your mood (and will some times even keep it up for a little while) and you'll be grateful!
Saturday Night Live is one of my favorite shows. I tape it weekly and if I can't be home (or can't stay up), I can watch it during the week. Each new (and returning) host has my sides splitting and some times they even manage to get a good musical guest once in a while. If one week goes by without SNL, I feel like I have missed out on my catch up of news for the week - thank you very much weekend update! Simply put, I love Saturday Night Live.
Everyone needs a good laugh. My go to is SNL, but i will delve into anything from youtube quickies to hour and a half long stand-up specials on HBO. I love to laugh and always find myself thinking that I don't do it often enough
From www.mylifeisaverage.com to www.peopleofwalmart.com I find little ways to escape into hilarity - even if it is just for a moment or two.
It's been said that laughter is the best medicine, and I could not agree more. (Just have a look at John Mulaney's stand up about "The Best Meal Ever") I often find myself wishing there were hours upon hours of South Park and Summer Heights High marathons so that the laughter could go on forever.
The next time you are feeling down, flip on The Comedy Network, strap on that adult sized diaper and get ready to laugh until your sides split! It will boost your mood (and will some times even keep it up for a little while) and you'll be grateful!
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