Life Lately. :)

I'm not really sure where to start. It has been a long couple of months.

"You, Lord, hear the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and the oppressed, so that mere earthly mortal will never again strike terror." -Psalm 10: 17-18

When I first started treatment at Eating Recovery Center of Dallas I was very hesitant. I have done this so many times before and this time I wasn't sure I was ready or even wanting recovery. From the very beginning my team was extremely supportive and pushed for what they knew was best for me, even when I pushed back.


Kara, my therapist, wanted me to live in the apartments so that I could practice what it's like to live alone (in this case with roommates). I was afraid that moving in would give me more freedom to act on my behaviors, but after thinking about it for some time I packed my bags and moved in. They are letting me stay free of charge, normally it's $50 a day. I cried as she explained to me that I was deserving of the help I was getting. I cried because I felt (and sometimes still feel) like I don't deserve help. I'm the only person in this world that can't recover.. I've come to realize that is not true.


Kara wanted me to do family therapy with more than just my family, so I volunteered my best friend Aimee for the task. We had a couple sessions and I was able to open up to her more and tell her when I was having urges to act on something and what exactly the urges were. Let me tell you something, being truthful about urges is extremely vulnerable and difficult; I believe we grew stronger in our friendship because of this.


At ERC they talk a lot about values. I had never thought about my values because I simply didn't think it was important. I have always felt like I am going to die young, so why even bother? Kara had me do an exercise with 100 cards with values on them, I had to slowly eliminate cards until I got to just five. Sounds simple, it is much harder than you would think. My top five values were: 1) Inner Strength 2) Creativity 3) Spirituality 4) Family 5) Safety. I am working on figuring out how these play out in my life and what I want to do with them. I believe God has exciting plans for me and my future.


Lastly, my transition back to work has been trying. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I know I am good at it, it's just hard to balance work, treatment, meals, therapy, doctor's appointments and try to still have a social life amidst all of that. I think I've been doing well. I had the privilege of seeing a friend I grew up with just last week and my heart is still so joyous! I've reached out to old church friends and started going to weekly Mass. Unfortunately, now that I'm working 12 hour shifts on the weekends I won't be able to go for a bit but I do want to work harder to go back to church and renew my faith.


I haven't been writing as much as I'd like to, but I am making an effort to use my creativity and share it with the world. I've been drawing more and working on some poetry. I guess I can end with my most recent poem. I told my therapist I thought it was too depressing to share it with anyone, but she assured me that I only think it is depressing because I am depressed. I hope she is right. Slowly but surely I feel this pain is lifting. My team let my employer know that I struggle with ED, depression and PTSD so that I can be honest and take advantage of my meals and breaks to actually eat. I've noticed that by simply feeding my body, my mind and soul have benefited as well. Anyways, here is the poem I wrote just a couple of weeks ago. :)


Alone
Alone in the darkness,
Mind wanders.
Feeling, feeling too much.
Feeling nothing at all.


Alone in the darkness.
Alone in my thoughts. Alone.


The pills make the pain subside,
But when will I see the sun shine again?
When will a smile come without forcefully
willing my lips to turn upward?


Upward I go in my dreams...
A land unknown, a land for people like me. 


People like me weren't born for this world.
A world of anger and hate,
Shame so deep it runs through our veins.


We breathe in. We're drowning.
We breathe in. We are free.




Peace to you,


Bella

Sitting in my garbage.

I've been trying to gather my thoughts for a while now, but today something happened that gave me a nudge (or really a hard kick) in the right direction.

My best friend asked me to go to church with her, and with as angry as I've been with God I didn't want to go. I also have a lot going on right now and know that when I have felt this lost and confused in the past, God has been the only one that stood by me. Even when it felt like even He gave up, He turned out to be the only one walking beside me. So I got out of bed, put my big girl panties on (quite literally actually) and faced it. I faced the hurt, confusion, anger and SHAME, walked right into that church and sat in my garbage.

I felt so naked and was sure that everyone could see. But you know what? Whether they knew me well enough to know or just shook my hand for the first time today, I felt welcomed. I haven't felt welcomed (even on this earth) in quite some time now. It was incredibly refreshing. An amazing thing happened in that moment... As soon as the first worship song started playing and everyone stood up to praise, the only thought going through my head was, "Why am I telling myself all these terrible things?"

Now, y'all know my background and you know what I struggle with, so there's no need to explain the things I tell myself, but I'll go ahead and do so anyway. I had thoughts like, "you don't deserve to live", "you are a waste of space", "you're fat", "you're ugly" and "nobody loves you" running through my head. That's just to name a few. But in that moment of stillness and clarity, when I wondered why I was bullying myself, Romans 8:1 popped in my head.

Now, I don't read the bible very often. I don't know many  books, chapters or verses by heart, but this one I remember because back in the day my friend Jessica Volcansek (now Steel) sent me an email telling me that when I cry, Jesus cries with me. This verse was included in that email and although it's not usually in the forefront of my mind, when I need it, it comes back.

"Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus..." 

The verse goes on to say, "because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death." But I just kept repeating to myself "there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ". No condemnation. It doesn't matter how long I've turned my back. It doesn't matter what church I choose to attend. It does not matter if I'm angry, sad or shameful. I am loved and wanted and welcomed in His eyes. That is truly all that matters. 

Ironically enough, as I sat there and cried,  the pastor talked about how words have the strength to heal or the power to hurt. I have been hurting myself with my words. I have been beating myself down with the negative things I tell myself. And I have been ashamed to admit it because doing so means admitting that I have a problem, that I am struggling incredibly with depression, with my eating and with self harm. But I am willing to do so today. And I am willing to come to you and to God and to say that I need help right now. I cannot do this on my own. And I feel so lucky to have such an amazing friend, whose family has shown me so much love and support. They have prayed with me and for me, they've spent both night and day with me when I have felt so alone and afraid. I honestly don't know how I could ever repay them... But I also don't think they expect that. 

I have been stronger this time around than any of the times in the past. My work has not suffered, but my home and personal life has gone down the drain. I have been able to keep myself just barely above the surface. 

I'm rambling now so I'm going to stop there. I will say that I am getting help and getting on a different medication regimen. I have agreed (in order to be able to keep seeing the therapist I have been seeing for years now) to start outpatient treatment. I promise to choose my words wisely and I have chosen to start writing, as well as sharing my writing, with the world again. 

I can't promise that it's going to be pretty. In fact, so far this has proven to be the hardest time of all for me to choose to get help because I don't feel sick enough. I would almost say I'm being forced into it, but that's also not giving myself enough credit. I made the assessment. I showed up to assessment, and tomorrow I will ultimately be the one showing up for treatment and signing the paperwork. So yes, I need to give myself some credit, even if I was given an ultimatum by my treatment team. 

Lastly, I truly hope you all are doing well. I know it has been over  a year since I shared any writing, and I know I have worried some of you and lost touch with many of you. But today I can say that in choosing to use my words for good, I have also chosen to share my writing in order to give a voice to the voiceless and hopefully give someone even the smallest bit of hope. Because ultimately, the is hope. There is hope, and truth and light out there... Sometimes we just have to search for it in order to find it. 

I hope you find yourself well tonight and this week. I will find myself in a room full of broken people, each one of us sorting through our garbage. 

Peace to you tonight, 

❤️ Bella. 

PS. This was typed on my phone so I do apologize for any grammar mistakes. 😁

Dear Baby Robert,

I will try to keep this short... It has been 16 days since the day we met you and were taken from us too quickly... but who's counting, right? I'm just writing to let you know how much I love and miss you. Nine months ago your mommy came to Plano to let us know that you were coming... That day you became our little glimmer of hope. You were our bundle of joy. You were going to put this torn family back together again.

Baby Robert in our weakness you have made us stronger. Your Mommy is facing challenges she never imagined she'd have to face. I hope that from above you take your little hands and wrap them tight around her heart and let her feel your love. I hope you do that with each of us because we need it. We need it now more than ever.

I keep thinking about all the things I planned to do with you. I was so excited to be Crazy Aunt Bella who said 'yes' when Mommy and Daddy said no. I was going to introduce you to the world and all the wonders it has to offer. I thought about teaching you how to swim and how to play sports even if I'm no good at them. I thought about having you as my ring bearer at my wedding (which is nowhere in sight) and I thought about holding you, letting you feel how much love I have for you in my heart. Thinking of you filled a void in my chest that nothing else has been able to fill and now that you're gone that's all I feel. I feel empty, needy. I look at your pictures every day because I don't want to forget you. Deep down I know I never could forget you, but I want you to know that there will never be anyone like you, baby boy. Nothing could ever replace you.    

I think about the day we met you, when you were placed in my arms and I was rubbing your back just praying that somehow, someway you would come back to us. I think about your little hands and feet and those precious little lips. I think about how grateful I am that as the nurse took you away she stopped and let us kiss you and tell you how much we love you. You had so much to offer this world. We didn't get to have you for very long, but every second we got to spend with you felt like a lifetime. You knew nothing of the evils of this world and for that I am thankful. You are our little angel baby, and that's the way you'll always be. Our hearts are heavy now that you're gone. We miss you. We love you. 

Goodnight, my Angel. 

Love, 

Your Crazy Aunt Bella

What's on my mind.

A little over a month ago I picked up a pen and paper in my apartment and I started to write what I thought would be my last words to the world, but by the time I was halfway through I wrote a promise to reach out before doing anything. I read through a list of things that I had to do before I could take my own life. I had to say good-bye to everyone I cared about, I had to write a will and make sure I had someone to take care of my dog, I had to do at least three of my favorite things, go out to my favorite restaurant, talk to my therapist one last time and several other "last minute" things. After I did all these things, I told myself I could take my own life. Turns out that after spending less than five minutes looking into my puppy's eyes I changed my mind. She's worth more to me than I am to myself and I know I can't leave her.

See, I wish I could explain to you how depression works but I can't. I can't explain how I wake up one day full of life and the next I can't get out of bed. I can't explain how being off my medicine for more than one day makes the suicidal ideation come back full-force; I can't explain it but it does, it happens almost in the blink of an eye and I absolutely hate it.

I keep reading things that talk about how suicide is "the most selfish thing a person can do" and it tears me apart inside because this thought process is so so wrong and so distorted. A suicidal person is not thinking about what will happen after they die. They just want the pain to go away. They want the brick that is constantly weighing down their chest to be lifted. They want to see colors and light again. They want to enjoy food and not just eat to survive, if they can even do that. I used to see the commercials on TV advertising anti-depressants and think how cheesy they were, but really, depression is just like those commercials. It's a constant dark cloud over your head, it's a weight tied to your body that makes it near impossible to move. It's a knot in your throat that you can never choke back. It's nightmares every night, insomnia, loss of appetite, it's a living hell... So sure, to the people that have never experienced depression or suicidal ideation, suicide is selfish, but to those of us that live with this shit every damn day, suicide may seem like the best thing we can do for ourselves and those around us. We feel like no one likes to be around a person that constantly needs help or support, no one likes to be with someone like us and we realize that it's really not fair to put our family through so much grief. So that's why suicide may seem like the best option. In our reasonable mind we may know it's really not, but our emotional mind blocks out our reasonable mind and that's where we better hope that our wise mind speaks the fuck up. To those who actually go through with suicide, it's probably the most selfless thing they can think of doing. They are probably thinking about their loved ones up to the very last second... so please, I know our opinions may differ, but please stop saying that suicide is selfish...

The death of Robin Williams is tragic. It shouldn't have happened but it did and there is nothing we can do about it now but learn from it. Our mental health system is fucked up and it's about time we realize it and do something about it before we lose more and more people. Robin is not free, he is dead. The greatest (arguably) comedian of our time is dead, and no amount of money or fame could change that, nothing can change that. What we can change is how we talk about it and how we educate both the public and professionals when it comes to suicide and depression.

The first time I went to a psychiatrist almost seven years ago, she told me that purging was a part of growing up and that cutting was just "something that some teens do". She didn't put me on medications, refer me to a therapist, nothing. THIS WAS A PROFESSIONAL! After seeing her, I went to a doctor (MD) and I let him know I was purging, he weighed me and since I was not below a certain BMI he told me I would be fine and sent me on my way. It wasn't until about a year later that I found a therapist who I admitted to that I was  throwing up blood before someone told me that what I was doing was not okay. It took over a year for me to get the help I so badly needed and deserved.

I don't have the solution to this problem. I don't know that anyone does, but it's something we need to talk about. We need more people to share their stories and experiences, we need to make it a bigger issue instead of minimizing how big of a problem it truly is. We need to STOP SHAMING those who struggle. 

STOP FUCKING SHAMING US! 

It is absolutely okay to ask for help and I encourage you to do so. It is okay to take your medicine, pray all you want to pray, but unfortunately praying will not fix chemical imbalances in your brain... Take the meds that are prescribed to you. Go to support groups. Call the Hopeline, 1-800-394-HOPE. Call your best friend and let them know you're struggling. Show this to someone you need support from. Share this with your friends so they know you support them no matter what. 

People can tell you to "grab the bull by the horns" all they want, but they obviously have no idea what it's like to be thrown off that bull time and time again. I do, and I think you need a break. You deserve a break. So please, if you're having a difficult time pour yourself a glass of water, take some deep breaths and do something to take care of yourself, force yourself to do something that used to make you happy, you never know what could happen when you do. 

Tonight I forced myself to write this blog and share it with the world although it's been over a year since I shared anything on my blog. I didn't want to do it, but I knew it could help... and it did! Do something nice for yourself during the next few days. 

Remember that I love you, I care about you more than you can imagine. I need you to be here with me.

Peace to you tonight,

Bella

PS: Here's a link to some self-care ideas.

Confessions/MIA

Well folks...

As much as I'd love to be superwoman and say I can do it all, I've got to admit that I can't.

I've been doing well for the most part. I signed a lease for an apartment in April, I havent acted on self harm or eating disorder symptoms since I can remember... (not purposefully at least).

I have found a job as a nanny that I absolutely love. For over two years now I've been out of treatment and just working with an outpatient team. It's ridiculous how quickly time goes by.

Two years. More than that actually.

I don't think that anyone will understand until you've been through it what PTSD is like and what body memories are. Until you feel someone touching you and hurting you in your most private places you can't tell me that "you know".

So here is my confession. My PTSD symptoms have been acting up, especially at night. I feel the touch of man who isnt there and should never have been there. I get panic attacks. I don't sleep.

I've also been keeping secrets that aren't mine to keep. But those will come out on their own time.

To deal I've been turning to my klonopin. I've been relying too much on my klonopin and am up to 8-12 mg a day. I know this isn't healthy, and I know that quitting cold turkey is even more dangerous..

Which is why I've decoded to admit myself to the Seay Center to withdraw from the benzos altogether. I'll be gone for hopefully 3 days maybe 4.

Your prayers and well wishes are more than appreciated.

Love,

Bella

PS. I am a warrior... Stronger than I've ever been. -Demi Lovato "Warrior"

This is my public confession.

Before I go into the details of this post, I want to let everyone know that I have been MIA from writing lately but it's because I'm starting to enjoy life again. My social life is "thriving" (using that word only because that's where I feel I should be rather than where I actually am). On the real though, I am being more social as well as working and going to school. Who would have thought I'd be here a year ago?! ...A big thanks to the people that believed in me!

Okay. So. I can't really avoid what this post is truly about for much longer given that the title is probably cause for concern. 

Breatheeeee...and I say that not only for you but myself as well.  This post is really not as alarming as it sounds. 

I'm struggling, but DON'T FREAK OUT.

I'm not in a "bad" place. At least not compared to where I used to be. In fact, I'd say I'm doing fairly well all things considered and I'd like to think my treatment team agrees. (I don't know how they'll feel after reading this, but I also don't think it'll be a game changer). I've been pretty honest with them.

I'm coming up on my one year mark for cutting and I'm nervous. Not because I don't think I'll make it; I know I will. I just know that in the past things have not worked out for this long and part of me is bracing myself for the worst. Like they say, prepare for the worst and hope for the best. ...I guess?

But honestly, that's not really what I'm struggling with. I'm actually just struggling with food and body image. And I know the word "just" minimizes the situation but what can I say? I'm a minimizer.

My nutritionist is on maternity leave. She actually just left about two weeks ago. We have been preparing for this for over a month and it's not something that was new to me. In fact, we did the best we could preparing for this gap. It's only for a couple of months so I'm really not looking for a new nutritionist or anything of the sort, just support.

Part of me knew this was coming, but I wanted to believe I could do it on my own. As some of you know from experience, and others through reading this blog, Ed is a sneaky bastard. I was doing good at quieting his "voice" in my head (y'all know what I mean by voice right? I'm crazy, but not THAT crazy), but lately I can't get him to shut up. 

I haven't been following my meal plan. I have been restricting, and I'd like to think it's not on purpose (i.e. I'm too busy to eat), but that's a lie. If everyone else can find a way to eat three meals a day then so can I. 

Also, I'm feeling really guilty when I do eat. Every part of me wants to purge but I've been fighting that off as much as I can. It hasn't been perfect, in fact I'd be lying if I said I haven't done it in the past month, but I'm trying really hard. 

Many of you might think I'm doing this for attention or to try to lose weight but really, my nutritionist and I have figured out that on the weeks I use behaviors, my weight tends to go up. Now that could be water weight or my body starting to go into survival mode, but part of me wants to think that's my eating disorder talking... but factually, my weight does go up. So no, I don't do this for weight loss. I really don't know why I do it.

I've heard all the explanations, from "purging emotions" to "control" to whatever else. I know all about it. At this point, it's not anybody's job to figure that out but me. I don't want you to tell me that I'm beautiful just the way I am or that I can do this. I know I can.

I guess I don't really know what I'm looking for when I say support. Maybe it's just someone to listen or probably even someone to read this post. Maybe it just shows me you care.

Whatever the case, whatever "support" means to you, I could use some of that.

Hope everyone is doing well and know I'm always here to listen. I don't have the answers and I may not even know how to respond, but I know that someone listening helps a lot.

Peace,

Bella

<< In treatment, that one creepy patient.

Word Purge

I want to write a beautiful poem; 

There are so many things I want to tell you. 

I want this to be meaningful, 

But not just full of shit 

Because we all know half the stuff we hear goes in one ear and out the other quickly forgotten or not believed. 

Listen to me. 

As the sun sets, and darkness starts to fall, 

I'm once again reminded and I relive it all. 

And I know I'm not the only one who feels the way I do, I'm not the first or the last to say that I'm with you. 

Listen to me. 

I've been there. 

Leaning over a toilet wishing to be thin, hoping that your heart will stop, 

Wanting to give in.  

And I, I have been there. 

Crawled up in a ball at night, as the monsters call my name, 

I've felt their hands around me but still I've taken all the blame. 

And I've carved into my body 

To forget that I was used, 

I've left my temple burned and scarred, terrified and bruised. 

I have been there. 

And I want this poem to be about redemption. I want it to tell our stories from the inside out so others can feel what it's like to want to crawl out of your skin. 

Because living in a shell, puking and eating and puking and cutting and eating and starving and cutting again, 

That's not a life worth living. 

And I've been there. 

I've stared at a bottle of pills for hours debating how many to take. I don't want to die I'd tell myself as I committed suicide. 

"I'm not sick enough," I'd say,

"I've been worse before." 

God I've heard this so many times from people I adore. 

And I've been there. I have felt your pain, 

And I know how to appreciate the sunshine when all you get is rain. 

Because I'm here now. I still wake up to sweat and tears and I sit here quietly facing all my fears.

But I know how to smile, and I know how to laugh and if I could give you a reason to keep fighting I'd say that these two are the greatest gifts of all. 

Because seeing a smile on a strangers face and hearing a giggle or a cute embrace makes the sunsets beautiful and the dark nights bright, 

Makes the shadows quiver in the moonlit night. 

And it brings new memories to cloud the old, and I know these are all things that you have been told 

But you've never seen it so how could it be? And you're stuck in the same place as yesterday and the day before and the day before and the day before. 

And I've been there too, just as lost as you. And I know I'm not the only one who feels the way I do, I'm not the first or the last to say that I'm with you. 

But if I could dry your tears and show you how to live, I'd do it in an instance and have nothing left to give. 

If you could see yourself the way that I see you, you'd understand when I say that I have been there too. 

You're beautiful and wonderful and have so much just ahead, 

And together we can fight it, we won't ever be misled. 

And I want to write a poem that you can relate to, 

Forget the bells and whistles, and the sappy "I love yous". 

I don't know how to end it since the future's so unsure, 

I don't know and can't promise that we will be secure. 

But I know I'm not the only one who feels the way I do, 

And I know I'm not the first or the last to say that I'm with you.