blue pants are okay

blue pants.  these are the ones that have fit nicely for a year.

this morning, they were too snug for comfort. and this is okay. not fitting into them does not mean anything bad. i just means that i am successfully becoming healthier. not fitting into this size is not unhealthy.

ED likes to say it is bad. very bad.

today has been spent separating myself from the ED thoughts.

kimberly knows that she is more than the blue pants. she knows that now the khaki pants, the jeans, and the blue pants are just numbers and standards that ED has used to try to brainwash her into believing that she is defined by numbers.

screw that. big time.

i'm developing more curves. hubby loves it.

and yes, i plan on spending a lot of the next six days naked. on my rooftop terrace. yeah, i said it (we're married. get over it. this is brutal honesty), and i'm proud of it. there is more of me to look at one year later.

screw you, ED.

the best medicine(s)?

i follow some very inspirational peeps on twitter. @healthyplace is a favorite of mine.

amongst the great articles and blog posts, they tweet some great quotes.

here's one from yesterday: "i know that laughter and sunshine can restore my soul." ~veronica hay

for those of us who deal with ED, this is so.very.true. scary true, to be exact.

i've spoken briefly about how isolating this disorder is--all consuming, really. when we "get inside our heads," it's hard to get out, much less laugh. and oh, how laughter can be a great medicine.

ED tells you that you don't deserve to be happy, to smile, to laugh. laughing until you cry isn't even comprehendable. the same goes with "sunshine." you don't want to be seen. period. if the sun is out and it's warm, more of you, literally, is exposed. blech.

these days, i am loving me some laughter and sunshine. if they are together, even better!

i am fortunate enough to work with some ladies that make me laugh at least 5.7 times a day, minimum. from donna thinking her chapstick is a gluestick, to leslie reading her evaluation comments, to lisa's random thinking out loud, my life is definitely NOT lacking in laughter. many days, i laugh until i cry, or almost spit out my drink (as i nearly did yesterday. thank you, donna!).

i'm extremely blessed to have a husband who loves to see me smile, hear me laugh, and spend time in the sun.  some of our happiest times are spent "sunning" at the lake while either reading, floating in the water, and/or laughing at the dogs/neighbors/some other random thing. in fact, our entire honeymoon was spent in the sun. and GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY how excited we are to return there in two weeks!

it's no coinicidence that this quote spoke to me: the  night of my wedding reception, my dad and i dance, laughed and sang along to the beatles:

"here comes the sun.
here comes the sun. and i say, it's all right.

little darlin', it's been a long, cold, lonely winter. little darlin', it feels like years since it's been here.

here comes the sun.
here comes the sun. and i say, it's all right.

little darlin', the smile's returning to the faces. little darlin', it seems like years since it's been here.

here comes the sun.
here comes the sun. and i say, it's all right."


for a family that barely survived in the shadows of life, it is oh.so.very.wonderful to be in the sun again.

and i wouldn't be here now if not for my wonderful husband of nearly (as of saturday) one year.

that night, we all danced the night away (yes, even our parents, who both celebrate 35 years of marriage in 2011!), and ended with this:

"when you can't find the light that guides you through a cloudy day;
when the stars ain't shinin' bright and it feels like you've lost your way;
when those candle lights of home burn so very far away,
well, you got to let your soul shine
just like my daddy used to say.

he used to say the soulshine
it's better than sunshine;
it's better than moonshine;
damn sure better than rain.

hey, now people don't mind;
we all get this way sometimes;
you got to let your soul shine;
shine 'til the break of day."

my sweet david, i love you. thanks for the love, the laughter, and the soulshine. i absolutely cannot wait to see what the next fifty years will bring.

photo by morgan howard ;)

l-i-n-k-s

link: noun

1. one of the rings or separate pieces of which a chain is composed. 2. anything serving to connect one part or thing with another; a bond or tie.

 

we are all bound to someone, in some way or another, at some time, to another person.

 

we are linked.

what you choose to do with that link can effect the course of your life. some links are healthy. some links are toxic.

i have been linked to both, as have many of us. i know others who have had negative partnerships, whether it be co-workers, friends, marriage, or (the worst of all in my opinion) family.

how we choose to deal with the toxic links can frame our perspectives; it can shape our personalities and views on life in general.

everyone's story is different. how we choose to interpret the experience can significantly direct the course of our lives.

 

i've been through a lot in my 30 years. some healthy links, some toxic. some healthy, but at times toxic.  at one point, it would have been very easy to stop caring, to stop living, to give up on life, and true happiness.

when i think about my own "links," the chain of events that brings me to my present, i cannot help but shake my head in amazement.

what a wonderful place to be now.

was it easy, pain-free, or stress-free to get here? nope. would i trade it for the easy road, even not knowing what that is or could be? not a chance.

here's what i know: life is what you make of it. it's not always easy. it's not always fun. you don't always understand why it happens the way it does. but, having experienced all of the "links" in my past, i am where i am today.

and for that, i cannot help but be grateful, feel blessed, and smile.

girlfriends, yet another form of therapy

dealing with ED sucks. big time. it makes you think you aren't worth other people's time, effort, or friendship. at my lowest point, i really didn't have any friends. i was too ashamed of the way i looked and too anxious about the situations in which i would find myself.

i even lost touch with some of the best friends i have (insert shout out to my zta ladies, and a BIG one to my roommate!), and probably will ever have.

thus, those who fight the daily battle of ED often experience social isolation. ED tells us we don't need any one else. in particular, friends (read: others who truly care about your health, happiness, and general well-being).

LIES. LIES. LIES! (he is SUCH a liar!)

i attended a great baby shower tonight for a sweet lady, hosted and attended by the wives of my husband's friends, whom i have genuinely grown to love and enjoy, and now consider to be my friends too.

tonight, i was reminded again of how lonely ED can be.

it's so wonderful to have the tools to fight him.  before 2008, i would have stayed home. and would have missed out on some F-U-N!!

on another note, i discovered that my experience might help a new friend and colleague, and i look forward to the positive opportunities that may await. (you know who you are--and i love you for your honesty, effort, and support!!)

as for "creating" tonight, i stopped at hobby lobby on the way to the shower to pick up a hot glue gun (had thrown out my old one a year ago) so i could finish my latest project.

here was my inspiration (thanks, anthropologie).

and here is mine!

cute, huh? not bad for a bit of fabric, scrapbook paper, and ribbon!

to my newest friends, thanks for the good times tonight--here's to many more (which should definitely include the dude who provided the musical entertainment--only on a lower decibel because we are old and find it annoying...)--love you all!

until next time....surround yourself with those that make you smile. and love yourself.

LIVE life. LOVE yourself. CREATE recovery.
me

eyes closed

i hate titling posts. there, i said it. the truth.

however, i think this particular title will show up on this blog frequently.

see, i wish i were an artist. true, there are many definitions of "artist." but, to me, the word itself always implies one who can execute a drawing or painting, of the realistic sense.

my personal opinion that i possess zero talent for this was confirmed when i was a pre-k teacher. i had recently become part of a literacy program; one of the activity suggestions was to "story tell" while drawing pictures. i drew a person. the children thought it was a dog. they became confused. i accepted my lack of talent.

so, anyway, i obviously have a love of and appreciation for art.

at the creek, a very sweet lady introduced me to a great way to "be an artist" in my eyes.

the concept is simple: paper, pencil, crayons/colored pencils/markers/oil pastels (you get the picture). close your eyes. put the pencil on the paper. for a few moments, without picking up the pencil, make lines all over the power (let your wrist freely move over the paper).

then, look at it. what do you see?

here's what i saw tonight.

do you see what i saw? a pregnant woman, lovingly looking down at her belly.

this is a woman who knows what she wants.

this is a woman who is experiencing another level of love, and family.

to be her, staying in recovery, moving toward "recovered," is a necessity.

this is who i want to be.

reflections

so, tonight ED gave me a few reasons to not go to a support group: 1) your friend won't be there 2) you might have to sit in traffic and be late 3) you're too tired.

i'm glad that the rational brain won.

tonight, i was again reminded of what loving parents i have now, and had growing up. listening to others as they work through their past, i found myself almost ashamed of dealing with ED and not having all of the baggage that some of the other amazing ladies in the group are stuck lugging around.

then i remembered: unnecessary guilt=Ed thoughts. i stopped.

on the way home, i talked with a lady that has inspired me so much, and with who i hope to genuinely become great friends.  i found myself thinking "let it be" (yes, i love the beatles) and just live life. day to day.

overcome with emotions, i felt the need to call my dad, the one who literally carried me to the path to recover. instead of feeling guilty, i allowed myself to be grateful. and i told him (note: this is big. words are hard for many of us dealing with ED).

i am grateful to have had a happy childhood.

i am grateful to have had a supportive family.

i am grateful to have parents who approve of and love my husband. (BIG ONE HERE)

above all, i am grateful to be alive. life is good. very good. amazing, in fact.

and, i am fortunate to say, my family, the one i was born into and the one i now have through marriage, is a large part of that.

until next time,

LIVE life. LOVE yourself. CREATE recovery.
me