Confidence...A bold challenge

"She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflections of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself."

~Anais Nin

Right now I am sitting at my computer listening to Katy Perry's 'Firework'.  My daughter is sitting at her little desk working on arts and crafts belting out as loud as possible the chorus lines that she knows, humming the rest that she is still learning. My son is tucked peacefully in his bed for a nap that is much needed yet low in supply. My husband is once again on the road after spending 8 hours with us in between destinations. I was sitting in my chair, empty mind, staring at the falling snow, beautiful in the sky, but once it touches ground immediately fades into it's surroundings as if it never existed. I feel calm. Peaceful. Yet, sad and lonely. 

I love the song 'Firework' and love it even more now that I have found the time to watch the music video on YouTube. It's funny actually how much a song catches your inner music loving voice, captivating you to listen to it over and over, singing it in your head while you go about your daily tasks, and all the while you have absolutely no idea what all the words are or even what the message or meaning truly is. I even googled the lyrics and sang along to them unaware completely til I watched the video. Out of the three put together came screaming one word to me, Confidence.

Something I struggle with daily.

So often we worry about what others think of ourselves, so much so, we loose our inner identity to what we believe is expected of us from the outside world and those who surround us. It is a battle that will never be won until we can side with ourselves and cease to let others dictate who or what we think we should be. Until we find confidence in ourselves.

Once again I have pulled out my best book friend, The Dictionary. Oh how I am loving my relationship with the knowledge it possesses and the inspiration it provides me in my quest of growth. When I would cower in fear from teachings in books or from other people because of my lack of knowledge in the context of communications, I am now understanding that I too can posses that same knowledge, if I allow myself.

Confidence, as stated in my dictionary, is firm trust; feeling of reliance or certainty; sense of self reliance's; boldness.

How often I lack trust in myself. Especially firm trust. I honestly do not believe I have ever possessed a "firm trust" in myself. If I have, it was only brief, and it was followed immediately by doubt. Self doubt. Something I battle every day.

And every day I seem to miss out on things out of my lack of confidence. I do miss activities because I am scared of the impression I may or may not leave. I don't initiate conversations because I am not confident in my message to others whether it be remorse for a previous action or simply to share with another that they are on my mind and I care for their presence in my life. I desperately crave acceptance from others almost too much. Actually maybe any craving of acceptance is deemed too much. Why do we need to be accepted by others instead of solely accepting ourselves. Maybe we need assurance in who we are more so than acceptance.

'Firework' starts off by saying,

"Do you ever feel like a plastic bag,

Drifting through the wind,

Wanting to start again.

Do you ever feel  so paper thin,

Like a house of cards,

One blow from caving in.

Do you ever feel already buried deep,

Six feet under, scream,

But no one seems to hear a thing..."

Oh so often, that is me. I have, on occasion, sat and watched that one plastic bag drift through the wind, seemingly free, then fall, then lift again. It would bring me comfort in an unusual way. But today, I see a different meaning. I do feel at times like I am drifting, falling, and not just wanting, but needing, to start again. And then there are the days I feel so buried deep in the overwhelmingly chaotic struggle to stay on top of my world with chores and kids and responsibilities. I struggle to make good choices and yet fall into those old bad habits and then struggle to climb up again. Then those choices haunt me til I can grasp the tools to let go. And I feel like I am screaming for help and no one hears me. But then I realize that I am creating my misery and it's not the responsibility of others. And it hits me, I have no sense of self-reliance or firm trust in myself. 

The song then goes on to say,

"Do you know that there's still a chance for you,

Cause there's a spark in you.

You just gotta ignite the light,

And let it shine,

Just own the night,

Like the Fourth of July.

Cause baby you're a firework,

Come on show 'em what your worth..."

So comes my inspiration. Inspiration to fight harder for confidence in who I am. Some days it feels as if there is no way up. No way to heal, grow, change, conquer. But deep down, I do know there is a chance for me to shine, although I am blinded by my fears and lack of confidence. 

As I watched the music video I was reminded that although we all have our differences in our struggles, we all have the possibility to choose to fight back and overcome what taunts us, which in turn, makes a difference in how we are perceived by others. More often than not, those perceptions are positive of the strengths we posses. I often hide, safe in my home, away from the many eyes of the world that might actually see one of my many imperfections. I tuck myself cozily into the many unimportant handling's of my house to occupy my time and my focus in hopes that if I don't have to face the outside world then I don't have to battle with my distorted perceptions of myself. Hence, my bulimic struggles. My over-analyzations. My self-doubt. My unhealthy image of who I am or who I should be. My feelings of exhaustion from battling myself.

Self-reliance. Firm trust. Those are things I know I need to work on. 

"Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful."

~ Sophia Loren

Once again, Confidence comes into play. To be beautiful to others and worthy of others assurance, I can't focus on acceptance, I must first find the tools to play into my roots and nourish them so they can be worthy of filling me with the confidence I so desire.

I have made my second goal of the new year. To find my confidence. No longer do I just have a goal of overcoming bulimia to be healthy. I know, now, after much deliberation, that it is deeper than that. There is more to the overall picture. Patience, Confidence, Trust, Acceptance, Courage, Wisdom...It is about changing my life and my thinking. So today, I focus on Confidence.

I  

Patience

Patience n. Perseverance; ability to endure; forbearance.

I find myself quite surprised by the bluntly, short definition of the word patience in my trusty dictionary. To me patience is such a strong and powerful word as it holds a sense of well being in us all. For without patience we would experience chaos. Not only with the world but within ourselves.

We want what we want when we want it.

Especially my 2 and 4 year olds.

Today they seem to be trying what feels is my last ounce of patience. And as a direct result I find I am lacking focus. I am feeling a tug of anxiety in me, pulling me in fifty different directions, fogging up my inner voice, casting a shadow of doubts over every choice I make, taunting me with the many choices of poisonous reactions that would numb me in the moment but would surely create a larger conflict of regret. After I have made a certain choice I am wondering if it was the right one. Then immediately comes the next. And the next. And the next.

Then there is more trying of my patience.

My head fills up with something I cannot quite grasp and I feel like I'm going to explode in so many ways.

Breathe.

Again.

Breathe.

Focus.

Patience.

For a child, patience is a difficult lesson to learn. They hear you say they need to wait and be patient and they will see the result they are looking for, but they don't grasp a hold of what that big word really means. So come the screams, fights, temper tantrums, tears, and at times, the blow up of a frustrated parent who has just demonstrated themselves the exact opposite of patience.

It all can be so confusing. Frustrating. Difficult.

Then I look at the thesaurus part of my definition and find that the common synonyms for patience are tolerance, restraint, fortitude, diligence, stoicism, assiduity...amongst others.

Reading those words gives me a headache filled with more confusion since I have absolutely NO idea what some of those words even are! So I find myself pondering whether or not patience is truly a virtue.

But I come back to the word tolerance. That is something I do quite often, tolerate an action. I tolerate quite a lot actually in hopes of avoiding conflict. But I never viewed my toleration's as patience.

I do know that patience is something you have to train yourself to master. Like learning how to ride a bike, paint, dance, cook; but taking it to the next level of skill. You have to practice it frequently. Consistently. Calmly. If not, disaster is likely to occur.

Today is one that possesses the possibility of that disaster. And I have to tell you that it is not easy for me to be patient right now. It seems almost as if I am being tested. The challenges are hitting me square in the face, one right after the other. In fact they are hitting so fast and so hard I have already been cursing the new year! Between Scott's immediate travels, the kiddos being sick, the tug-o-war of authority, the stresses of every day responsibilities that I am falling behind on, the exhaustion that doesn't seem to end, and the added unknowns of our well beings currently being tested, I am finding I am lacking the patience that would comfort myself and those around me.

I will share something personal with you that is quite possibly contributing to my lack of patience.

With the medical history that I have had and the vitality of scares it has presented me in the past, I now am finding myself face to face with yet another challenge. One that could turn out to be nothing. But it is one that holds so much power over my ability to control my fears that if it should turn out to be something then that something will be much bigger than all of the past nothings combined. I sit at the computer and browse the Internet researching the many possibilities that in turn add to the magnitude of worry. But what I should be doing is practicing that one simple word, Patience, and wait. Channel my energies to more important things than worry.

I know this. I can say this. But I find that I struggle to implement this knowledge I surprisingly possess and am trying to teach my children.

How can we be teachers to others if we cannot teach ourselves?

So in this new year, which honestly does not feel any different than the days we have been living, I have made it a personal goal to be more patient. Not just with others but with myself. I think it is a monumental key element in my self discovery, self healing and internal growth.

And once again, my mind has wandered aimlessly throughout my typings.

But funny thing is, I feel so much better having spilled it all out while working through my experiences of the moment in my mind. And while you may find it confusing, I have actually made more sense in my over-analyzing, over-processing, warped mind. I can breathe easier. My head is not so full of pressure. My body is relaxed. I have conquered patience which has in turn rewarded me with the passing of the many poisonous reactions that tempted me in my brief moment of stress related insanity.

"I am participating in a much bigger picture than the one in my individual prayers. And the big picture is being carefully orchestrated. I will trust the part I have been chosen to play. And I can be patient."

~Each Day a New Beginning

Relationships

Today I find myself reflecting on the relationships in my life. Some old, some new, some tarnished, some inspirational. Some bring sadness from which I discover a new growth in my character. Some bring such great joy to which I have to actually learn how to embrace and be part of that joy. But there is no one relationship I have or ever have had that meets the standard of perfect.

No relationship is perfect.

My relationship with myself is far from perfect but as I sat down to read out of my inspirational book I was reminded of a phrase that I seldom forget.

"Progress, not perfection, is our goal..."

I am learning to be wary of my need for perfection. The more I need, or want, perfection, the more I see myself as not good enough. What I do, what I strive to do, is not good enough. The role I play in my relationships is not good enough. 

But then I stop my thinking. I take a deep breath. I close my eyes. I release my inner anguish. I remember that I need to be honest with myself as to the direct roles I am playing. I need to take an honest personal inventory of my thoughts, actions, and reactions. I need to ask myself if I did the best I could have done in each circumstance. I need to ask myself if I made the best choices. I need to ask myself if I reacted fairly to the situations of my day and the people in it. 

If I cannot honestly answer yes to all of those questions then I know that I contributed to the negative forces that inevitably affect all of those around me either directly or indirectly.

But then I have to let go. If I dwell on where I went wrong or who I affected negatively then it will hinder my progress to move forward with knowledge and tools needed to make the next day better than the last. 

Progress. Process. Patience. Understanding. 

I am slowly learning how to accept and change myself to be able to better myself internally in which will better my relationships with those I have been privileged to have. 

Which now brings me back to relationships.

"Kindness and intelligence don't always deliver us from the pitfalls and traps. There is no way to take the danger out of human relationships."

~~Barbara Grizzuti Harrison

I am learning now that relationships are vital in every aspect of our lives. They help us to escape the loneliness that can so easily consume us eventually triggering our minds to regress and spiral into a negative state of doubting all of which surrounds us. The loneliness turns to despair and we eventually become blind to the positive influences and moments that when we open our minds, are always jumping out of odd moments in a blissful surprise.

I also am gaining an understanding that relationships do not guarantee any kind of release or freedom from feeling pain.

"There's a risk in human relationships, and it's often accompanied by pain. But I am guaranteed growth, and I will find the happiness I seek. I will reach out to someone today."

~~Karen Casey

Strong words. Especially to me given the complicated nature of the relationships in my life right at this very moment.

My relationships seem to be filled with so much pain, stress, misunderstandings, miscommunication, stubbornness, drama... Each relationship is intertwined with the next and when one falters negatively, it is almost like the telephone game we used to play as kids, where each relationship gets a dose of what preceded it and the next gets some of that but tweaked to the point where all are confused as to how it got to be so incredibly complicated. Almost too complicated for words to even make sense of it.

 I have one relationship right now that seems to be exhausting all ends. Feelings get hurt, but the lack of communication makes it unknown to the other party, therefore festering. Words get misconstrued, but both parties are so stubborn that neither will sit and talk about it in a calm adult like manner. Communications get cut. Opinions are made that really seem so silly now to me, although they are quite serious. Loneliness creeps in from the missing joys of that relationship. Sadness appears like a gust of wind for how easily that one relationship has seem to fade away. Now in it's place appears a mirage. One of wild imaginations as to what the relationship should be, could be, was, is.

Loneliness creeps in.

I am so exhausted and confused as to how this relationship got to be so extremely complicated.

And now it trickles into other relationships around me. It seeps into my deepest thoughts. It consumes a big majority of my emotions. It creates the opportunity for me to regress back into a state of self doubt and negative perceptions of myself and who I am and what my meaning is to those around me.

I no doubtedly have made some bad choices. I can honestly admit that. I have reacted in terrible ways, for myself, and it doesn't make me proud. I have asked myself if I have done the best I could in this relationship and the challenges we have faced, and I cannot honestly say yes. I have tried to believe that I was perfect in my side of this relationship, but it's a lie. I have not done my best by far. I have held onto things of the past that have just festered into this anger and rage and unfair judgements of the present. I know now that I need to find a way to let go of the past.

That is exactly what it is. The PAST. I need to find a way to move on and live for today. I own my negative influences in this relationship. I am sorry for my reactions. I am ready to let go. Forgive not only the past actions the other has delivered over time, but I also forgive myself for my faults.

"Self pity need not cage me today..."

I am letting go of the need to feel sorry for myself and to stop feeling like I am the victim. I can only hope that the other party can find a way to do the same in all of the understanding that mistakes were made on both parts, but the relationship is so wonderful and always has been, and we need to find the positives once again. In turn, I hope that it not only heals within each of us, but it might help heal the indirect influence it has had on those around us as well.

I read this quote that didn't make much sense to me til right about now, after I have attempted to spill out my thoughts which have exceedingly consumed me.

"And what a delight it is to make friends with someone you have despised!" ~~Colette

"what does it mean to say we "despise" someone? Usually it means that we have invested a lot of energy in negative feelings; it means that we have let ourselves care deeply about someone. We would never say we "despised" someone who wasn't important to us....Sometimes that negative energy became almost an obsession, consuming our time, gnawing at our self-esteem. But in recovery there comes a moment of lightning change; a moment of release from the bonds of obsession. The other person is, after all, just another person--a seeker, like ourselves. And since we cared enough to devote our time and energies to disliking her, she is probably someone who would be rewarding to know...Today, I will look into my heart and see whether I am clinging to obsessive concerns with other people. I will resolve to let them go."

~Each Day a New Beginning

December 30

So I resolve today to let go of my feelings of a negative force. I resolve to do so not only in that one complicated, yet desired, relationship with someone whom I honestly care deeply for, but in all relationships where I have chosen to obsess over the negative concerns that have in turn, quite possibly, clouded my own judgement. I will embrace the meaning that today and each day thereafter, is a new beginning.

                                       

    

                                                                                                                                 

Motherhood...the ups and downs

I wish all aspects of motherhood were easy. You know like what you would watch on television in the old days. Leave It To Beaver was one of my favorites. The perfect mom who always had cookies made, the house clean, always greeted so sweetly by her son...

Come to my house right now and you will see such a different picture.

Dishes clean in the dishwasher. Dirty dishes in the sink and on the counter. Crumbs from the kids on the kitchen floor with the stains of Popsicles and spaghettios that were spilled. Piles of laundry on the floor that have yet to be washed. Laundry still in the washer and dryer. A box of papers that needs to be sorted and filed. Paint brushes from the kids projects sitting on their arts table with paintings strewn about. Beds unmade. Towels piled in the bathrooms.

The list could go on.

An extremely exhausted woman, me, who spent last night in tears. A little girl who is fighting a cold and needs extra attention at the moment because she is feeling left out with the extra attention her brother is getting. He is getting that because he had surgery five days ago. He is also sick on top of the healing and fighting fevers, congestion, coughs, sleep deprivation. A husband who is also exhausted from no sleep, work, and also sick.

Sounds fun right. Nope.

You take the events from last night and I can honestly say without a doubt that this is the part of motherhood that I hate!

My poor son hates taking his pain medicine with a torturous passion! In the beginning it was just the narcotic that we would fight to get into him. And I promise you it is at least five minutes of pure hell. You grab a washrag, measure out the medicine in a plunger, grab a cup of water, and very cautiously approach Tyler knowing that if spotted the freak out will begin before any medicine is administered. Then comes the battle.

Pin him down, squeeze the cheeks and quickly squirt in the medicine a few drops at a time, wait for a swallow, duck from the spitting medicine, grasp a tighter hold against the kicking and hitting to escape, squirt some more, keep squeezing, squirt the rest, duck from more spit while waiting for the swallow followed by the choking from the screams and swallows, release, swoop him up in my arms holding him close and whispering in his ear that mama loves him and it's all over, soon he will be better. The screaming and crying continues 20 minutes more but instantaneously halts and is replaced by running and laughing and playing and EATING like he hadn't eaten in decades. Sit on the couch in exhaustion fighting back the guilt ridden tears that come despite my best efforts to reassure myself that I am doing what is best for my sore little man. Grab a glass of my trustworthy vino, relax, and witness the effects of comfort that the medicine, once kicked in, provide so he can enjoy playing. Take another sip of my vino because I realize that in 4 hours the battle will start all over again. Call the doctors office who FINALLY confesses that this is all normal and day seven is the worst not only for the patient but for his exhausted, emotional parents.

More tears are shed. More fights ensue, not only with Tyler, but also amongst his stressed mommy and daddy. Tears are shed by his sad, feeling left out, scared older sister. resulting in more tears shed by her heartbroken mommy.

Fast forward to now.

Christmas is over and I feel like the past month was a blur. Maybe because it was. But nothing prepared me for the roller coaster recovery we endured after Tyler's surgery and the magnitude of his defiance against the medicine. Was it really because of the taste? Was it because it burned as it went down? Was it because he has been through stitches, ER visits, and now surgery, all in a matter of 3 months? Was it just fate of a typical 2 year old? I still don't know. I still hate what we all went through and the toll it took on all of us. I still hate that I had to pin my baby down to give him medicine. I hate that it consumed so much of our energy. But I love that my little guy is out there now, talking up a storm, running and playing with his sister, screaming things that make me laugh, and at night, although he still crawls into bed with us, he breathes normally as a child should. He sleeps in peace. For that, I believe it was all worth it and I am blessed to have been able to give him comfort that he so deserves.

Dumb and Dumber...True not quite.

I almost gave up.

I almost quit my blog.

I let two people almost get the best of me.

Then, I watched Barbra Walters and her interviews of the most intriguing people of 2010.

Jennifer Lopez was one of those people. I couldn't tell you exactly what was said in the interview ver-batim, but, I can tell you that the conversation was close to the following...

"What did they say about your voice?" BW

"What haven't they said about my voice...how I can't hold a tune...look at me now." J Lo.

Then it hit me. So what if someone doesn't like what I have to say? What if someone thinks I should be saying more than I am or less? What if they think I hold a responsibility that is not mine to hold?

WHY should I let them dictate what makes me feel better? What gives me purpose. What I essentially believe might actually help someone esle with their own struggles. Bulimia, Alcoholism, Cutting, Annorexia, Obesity, Meth... We all have a commonality and that is we turn to something toxic to cope with struggles we all share but don't quite understand, nor have the capability, to throw it away. Or so we think.

We all are dealing with the same stresses and struggles. Some worse than others. Some of us have always had the guidance and tools to make us confident in dealing, while some of us have been shown that it is easier to mask a problem with the above, and some not mentioned, and we find it has been programmed into our minds to hide our stuggles and numb ourselves to the realities we are scared to face.

Point in check.

I have a friend. It has been a rocky road in our friendship. But let me tell you, she is an AMAZING woman with a potential far greater than she is capable of seeing in herself. 

You might look at her and me and step back while processing our addictions, alcoholism for her, bulima for me, and you might say to yourself dumb and dumber. You might look at us and say to yourself, "oh well, this is the life she chose..." and go on your merry way. It happens a lot. More than you might think possible or ever imagine.

Let me tell you a secret.

This is not something we "chose" to do lightly. Instead, just as with any kind of toxic addiction, it kind of just happens. Then it spirals out of control.

My heart is heavy for my friend. I just spent Thanksgiving with her and I knew then, as I do now, that she needs help. More than I can fully give, but yet, she needs something from me as I need from others.

An unconditional friend.

I don't judge her, but funny thing I just realized this very moment of typing, I judge myself. I don't fault her. I know she is hurting, as am I. I know that when you have a 2, 3, or 4 year old pushing every last button you posess, it is easy to cave into that desire to turn to the numbing poison of choice. I know that when your husband is having a bad day and you can do nothing to make it better, again you want to turn to that poison. I know that when you look in the mirror angry at whatever emotions you let consume you, unintentionally, as you know you deserve better, you STILL want to and do turn to your numbing poisonous action of choice.

Oh my God. Right now, I can't find the courage to kiss the man I love more than anything out of fear of what might be felt or thought about the gaping hole in my line of teeth. Or should I have my fake tooth to fill the hole and make him feel like I am a teenager wearing a retainer. OR do I get so very drunk so I don't give a second thought about it and enjoy the moment.

What about when I go out into public forgetting to wear my fake tooth. I laugh out loud in the moment exposing this hiddeous sight I believe to be so blatantly realisticly obvious to everyone else when in fact they might not even notice. (But then I say yea right! It is so freaking obvious)

You know right now I have so many thoughts and issues racing through my head that I don't know how to make them go away, or process to let go, or even deal. I feel like I am the dumber one of all.

I was dumb to trust certain people and events.

I was dumb to believe that I could "properly" deal with events and emotions.

I was dumb to even think for one second that just because I got two, 2, TWO, negative remarks, I should give up and quit. Because if I let someone else dictate my emotions, my actions, or my process of dealing with events, then I am no better than they.

If my friend let her alcoholism dictate her every move then she would not be seeking help right now, again, as she is and I would not be so proud of her for her courage to fight back.

I have problems. I know you do too. We all do. But we all fight to deal with them the best we know how. None is perfectly right or perfectly wrong or even perfectly bad. They are just perfectly us. We each have a duty in our lives right now. To find peace within ourselves no matter what others might think. To be comfortable within ourselves.

Oh wow! So much easier said than done.

My struggles of the week are those of dealing with my fussy, clingy, two year old whom just had surgery getting his tonsils and adnoids removed ON my birthday. Not easy. Sleep is almost exinct for me. I am sick. I am tired. I am overwhelmed. I have not chosen the best ways to deal with it but I am trying to find a way to focus on the positive points of my day. Trying.

Am I so dumb to believe that I have a right at this very moment to cry?

I feel like I am.

My goal with my blog

So I started my blog as a way to express the emotions, struggles, and events that come along the way in my journey to overcome my issues with bulimia. "Perfect Mom, Perfectly Bad Secret" was the perfect title as it expresses the fact of my desire to uphold an image of perfection to the outside world and in doing so I lost sight of who I truly was, what I was capable of, the ability to handle situations in a rational manner, and yet I was upholding this incredibly bad secret from my husband, friends, family, and most of all, myself.

I still struggle on a daily basis to uphold that image. I am learning that it is not so important to look so perfectly composed to the outside world. I am learning that if my house is a mess because I am too tired, so be it. I am learning that it is OK to cry in company of friends or even a stranger. I am human. I am learning many lessons of life as I spend each and every day finding the strength to recover. I am not yet there to believe every lesson or grasp a hold of them to be able to make acting out those lessons an every day thing. I struggle each and every day.

I am not here to tell anyone how to recover from an eating disorder. I am still figuring that out myself.

I am not here to tell anyone what is right or what is wrong. I am no professional.

I am here to express my feelings. My thoughts. My emotions. My battles. My victories. My pain. My life journey.

I am not strictly speaking to any one person. I hope that others who know me and know what I am going through develop a better understanding as to who I am and why I do the things I do. I hope to release my thoughts and feelings and as I do so publicly, I hold a responsibility to  to maintain a piece of integrity and pure honesty within myself. If I cannot be open and honest in my blog about what is in my head and the actions I am performing or experiencing then I cannot heal in a true way. I owe it to myself to be honest about my disease. This is me being honest.

I am not here to steer anyone in a specific direction. If you like what you read and find it touches you in some way, fantastic! If you don't like what you read, that is fine too. I am not here to do anything specific other than share my story, heal, recover, throw out and let go of what is inside me so I can move on.

I have had several inquiries about my blog that seem to be question my intentions. I intend to help myself. I intend to share my story. I intend to heal. I intend to survive. I intend to find a way to let go of the desperate need of perfection. I intend to find peace within myself to love myself the way that I am. I intend to let go of the need of control.

I can change only myself.

I can choose only my own reactions.

I can choose my own path.

I can choose to do what I believe is in the best interest of me.

I can choose to choose better.

I can choose.

So I choose to continue to blog. Not about one specific thing. Not about one specific anything other than my life. Bulimia right now is a huge part of that life. My struggles to accept my missing tooth, the infections, the pains, the emotional battles, the impact on others, the way I perceive myself. Those are all things I am struggling with right now. I blog to let go of the pain. Let go of the negative emotion.

I am taking care of myself for myself and for my family.

I'm not perfect, oh how I wish I was, but I am doing the best I can.

Bulimia is no joke. It is a serious disease.

"Because society would rather we always wore a pretty face, women have been trained to cut off anger"
Nancy Friday

So today I have tons on my mind and am not sure where to begin. It has been a while since I blogged and I owe that to the fact that I had my tooth extraction which resulted in a dry socket followed by a massive infection that affected the whole right side of my face. I don't know if you have ever had an infection in your mouth but the way it radiates through your face and head is unbelievably intense and when you try to find focus it is nearly impossible. In fact, it kinda makes your world stop as you cannot remember half of what went on around you. Your world becomes a blur. Your thoughts mesh into one another and you cannot remember who said what, where you put things, what you ate, what day it is, or how you survived through limited functionality without hurting someone.

At least I didn't drive during that time.

Not to say I wish I had taken better care of myself and addressed the issue in the beginning. My dentist, a kind and understanding man, took my many calls over the Thanksgiving weekend, offered to see me before I left for Las Vegas, which I declined out of guilt, and was sensitive enough to my pain to help me make it back home comfortably until I could get into his office. I wish now I had taken him up on his offer to see me over the weekend, but I felt so guilty taking his attention away from his family, yet I knew deep down that his wife would have understood. She is wholeheartedly kind and forgiving of things and generous and sweet in a way I have been blessed to experience.

I went to Las Vegas on a birthday girls trip the Sunday after Thanksgiving. It was the first time that I have ever left without my husband or children. It was liberating and fun and crazy at times and, as the old saying goes, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

When I first decided to go public about my eating disorder I was terrified. I was afraid of what others would think. I was putting their thoughts and reactions, that had not yet occurred, ahead of what I knew was best for me. But then I took a step back and realized that it was vital in my own self to be open and honest about my bulimia to others in order to hold myself to a recovery that was honest to me. If I kept it a secret from those around me then I was more likely to keep the realism of how bad it (the eating disorder) was to me. I would keep lying to myself, as I had been for years, that I was still in control and that I didn't have a problem. So by being open and honest with others, I have learned to be completely open and honest with myself. I cannot control how others feel, react, think, or judge me or any situation, so why was I so worried about what they might think? I know who I am and what I want for myself and I had to honor that first.

When I was approached by the news to be part of a story on the realism of housewives desperate to be perfect and the ways we might deal with that false perception, I was immediately on board but then began to worry about what kind of response I might get being so publicly open. Then I sat down with my husband and we came to the conclusion that to each is their own. Some might find it inspiring, others might be disgusted by it, some might think I am crazy, maybe some might find it ridiculous. But at the end of the day if I am doing what is best for me and I am recovering in the most effective way possible for me then I need not worry about what might be said. That is out of my control anyway. What is in my control is how I react and how I process those things and how I choose to let it affect me. I have had great response and support from most until very recently.

 

But what kills me is the lack of seriousness about bulimia. It is no joke. It is not something to be taken lightly. I think that is what I am hung up on.

 

Let me assure you, it is a disease. No matter who is dealing with it, it takes control of you and you loose all senses of reality, giving into the darkness that possess your perceptions of yourself along with your perceptions of the world around you.

Bulimia can kill.

Many have died from it. I truly believe that if I continued on the path I was on, to the extent of severity I was allowing, not woken up one day scared to death of the reflection in the mirror, I would not be sitting here now sharing my story with you. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, I will help someone else who is feeling as scared and alone as I once was.

Bulimia is no joke.

It's not cancer. I know that. But still, it can kill.

I choose to live.

It's not easy but I am fighting.

"Anger is an emotion. Not a bad one, nor a good one...We can get free of our anger if we choose to take action appropriate to it. Anger can be a healthy prompter of action...when no action is taken, anger turns inward, negatively influencing our perception of all experiences, all human interaction...It's okay for me for me to be angry today. It's growthful, if I use it for good."

Instead of harvesting and ignoring my anger I am using the emotion as a tool to push harder, fight harder, press harder to raise awareness. Not only for me but for my children's future...