Dance

Dance. It's been a part of my life back to since I can remember. I have always loved everything about it. The way I would take a breathe and dance would flow out of me. The beauty of emoting music through dance moves, the challenge of perfecting a new skill, the thrill of finally completing a graceful quadruple pirouette or finding the perfect balance for a soulful panche. I was elated anytime I was fortunate enough to be able to dance in front of an audience. I both adored and loathed my dance classes. Performing was where I got to fly, so to speak, classes were for learning new tricks to take to flight.

I adored myself when I danced. The feeling I got when my muscles had been worked to their limit to achieve beautiful grace was exhilarating. I miss the daily challenge to see how far my body can take me. I miss the rush of dancing an adagio or an allegro to the best of my ability. I miss the thrill of completing a jump sequence knowing that I gave all the power I had to that one time through and knowing that I would need to muster the same amount of power to complete the jump sequence at least 3 more times.

I started dancing at the age of 3. By the time I was 11 I was taking 5 dance classes a week. Dancing was my life. I knew that dance would be a way of life for me for the rest of my life. As all dancers know, you don't leave the dance world when you walk out of the studio, you embody dance when even not in the studio. Perfecting dance techniques at home, practicing the new routine while waiting for the bus to take you to school and working on ankle strength while doing the dishes at home.

One would think, from reading this, that I was a serious ballet dancer my entire life, yet that is not the case. I have embodied dance for my entire life but much to my dismay and confusion I was pulled out of my beloved dance studio when I was 12 years old. The exact year that I was to finally get my pointe shoes. I was devastated by this. I have never really expressed to anyone how empty I felt when I no longer attending classes regularly. Yes, I still danced, but I was never allowed to have that full on life immersion that I did before.

I realize now that I have never allowed my self to grieve for this loss in my life.

In college I found dance again. I was addicted once more. Yet, something had changed, their was a difference in me. I was filled with resentment to those who had been able to dance seriously their entire lives. I was jealous of the their skill and technique. I was angry of the fact that I never got to excel the way I knew I could have.

It's time to let the resentment of this issue fall away. It does me know good to submerge myself in these memories and feelings of the past. The past is in the past. It is what it is. I can do nothing to change what has made me into who I am. What I can do is look toward where I am headed today and embody who I am becoming.

More and more I feel the urge to begin dancing again. When I think of this I hear a voice inside me telling me I'm insane. I'm 33 years old, I can't dance at this age. Then another side of me steps up to the plate and wonders, "why not?" Where is it written that only those who are adolescents or in their 20's are allowed to dance? It's not. If I want to begin dancing again there is one simple and easy solution. I will dance.

I won't be dancing as I once did where all I did and breathed was for dance but that is not necessary for me to find fulfillment and joy from this art form. All I need to do is let go and allow my body to test itself and reach new heights, as it once did.

All I need to do is allow myself to breathe and the dancing will follow.

A Peacefully Confused Post

Today is a day where I felt the need to write. Yet now that I am sitting down ready to capture all that I have to say I'm struggling with what it is I want to write about. Words are flowing through my head; (peace, recovery, strength, living, the present); but I'm having a hard time figuring out how to piece all of these words together.

These words are not new words in my vocabulary but they are certainly not the words I used to use to describe my life. They are now the words that I can and do use to relate to others about how my life is going.

I often get the question, "How are you doing?". Even though the topic of my eating disorder is not mentioned, it is definitely apparent what the secret message is behind that question. And I'm happy to answer it. I am in recovery, some days are easy, some are hard, but all in all I know that I have the strength now to be at peace while living life in the present. I used to live in the future constantly and there fore never truly was living. My thoughts always went towards what I would look like if I put what ever piece of food was sitting in front of me into my mouth. I am now able to sit down at a meal or look at a piece of food and know it for what it is. Just food.

I am also proud to exclaim that I actually enjoyed eating a meal this last week. Did I have eating disordered thoughts during this meal? Yes, of course I did, it will be a long time before my eating disorder is fully silenced BUT I did not let those thoughts over come my enjoyment of the meal and conversation that I was blessed enough to be a part of.

I still don't really know what it is I'm trying to say and I'm okay with that. Maybe I'm trying to proclaim the fact that I'm now happy living life, maybe I'm trying to let everyone know that I'm still in recovery and will be for a long time or maybe I'm just trying to live in the moment. Maybe I'm trying to express all of the above. Who knows! What I do know is that life is for living and not obsessing about food. Life is about enjoying moments not stressing about what my thighs look like. Life is about time I get to spend with my family not about constantly counting calories and fat grams in my head. It's amazing how much more space I have in my head to enjoy life now that I'm not fully engaged in an eating disorder.

Many people have told me I seem to be at peace now. Well...I certainly am not at total and complete peace but the small amount of peace that I have found is far and above more enjoyable then the insanity that I used to be immersed in.

Eating disorders suck.

Living life is pretty fantastic.

It's No Wonder

People have been asking me recently why it is I believe I developed an eating disorder. This question has caused me to pause and reflect over the years as to what might have influenced me into this disorder. I was highly involved in ballet during my entire childhood. I have always loved acting/theatre/drama and basically all of the performing arts. When I was in my teen years I loved doing pageants and took classes on how to be a model. Most of what I loved doing was inherently based on esthetics. Now that I think about it, it is no wonder I developed an eating disorder.

During my life as a dancer I constantly wanted to be leaner, thinner, smaller. At times I wished I could even be shorter. I never understood why it was that I was so much "bigger" than all the other girls. Now mind you, I was taking up to 6 classes a week, that equates to at least 10 hours of dancing a week. I was very physically fit but in my mind I still was not small enough. I thought that, probably because my instructor constantly barked to "suck in that gut" and "pull in that tush" so that we could have better lines and posture. These statements really cut close to home especially when paired with the instructor's cane swatting you in "that" area and the informing you that you do not have a dancers body. It now makes perfect sense to me as to why I was inflicted with this disease at the tender age of 7. At 7 years old I had already been in the dance world for 4 years, over half my life. It was ingrained in me that one must appear to be lithe, lean and slender to be a dancer. Unfortunately for me I began to think that there was something dreadfully wrong with my body because it wasn't built to conform to the "dancer" guidelines.

When I was in middle school I developed a love for acting. I have been in productions ever since I was 13 years old. Yet it wasn't until I was 19 did I get my first leading role in a one act. It wasn't until I was 30 until I got my first leading role in a full length main stage play. I started to wonder if I wasn't cast as a lead simply because my body didn't conform to societal standards. When I did get my first leading role I thought it was based on the fact that I had lost 40 pounds that prior year. I had this disease before but this is when my obsession with this disease began. I then got my next main stage role over 10 years later when I was a die hard anorexic. I ate almost nothing all day. Then after rehearsal, when I got home, I was so exhausted and tired that I ate 2-4 servings of dry cereal. Then the next day I would restrict all day yet again because I had over eaten the night before. Such a vicious cycle and one that would take 2 months in rehab to break.

As a teenager, the hardest years on all of us when it comes to esthetics, I became involved in pageants. As much as I denied other peoples claims that pageants were only about how pretty a girl was, deep down inside I never ever thought that my body was good enough to be in pageants. I have no idea how I was able to walk around on a stage in 3 inch heels while wearing a bathing suit in front of an entire audience while a spot light was directed at me. I felt like I might as well have circled my "flawed" areas with a red marker as a way to let the audience know that I knew that I wasn't perfect and that I really "didn't fit in" in the whole pageant scene. When one is born into a family of women who actually built like women, with hips, butt and boobs, it's amazing how easily this woman can feel so unwomanly when around those who are boyish or thin.

So now at the lovely age of 33 I battle daily to reaffirm my positive traits. I have to constantly remind myself that I don't need to "look 10 pounds lighter", that I don't need to "reduce wrinkles and puffiness", that I don't need to be ashamed of what the tabloids may call a "baby bump". (Not that I've ever been in a tabloid but you get my drift.) If all women were suppose to have flat bellies, slender hips, long legs and no wrinkles then God would have created us all the same. And if that were the case what an absolutely boring world this would be.

Beauty does not define us. The number on a scale, the size one wears, the latest lipstick, anti-wrinkle treatment, anti cellulite cream and the latest kind of spandex gym wear does not define us. What truly defines us is who we are and what we contribute to society. I am reminded of a Bhuddist quote that I love; "Happiness is not measured by success. If one loves what they are doing then one can truly be happy." I'm still working on figuring out what it is that I love doing but I'll tell ya one thing, I'm no longer striving for unattainable "perfection". I no longer strive to look like the model on the cover of a magazine, or the current Miss America or the latest "it" actress. I'm striving to be me and the best version of me that I can be.

Black Cloudy Day

These are the worst kind of days. These days bring about a feeling of walking through peanut butter. Everything, no matter how small, is a struggle to get through. It's not that I don't want to accomplish anything on these days but due to the enormous strength it takes just to get out of bed on days like these I seldom have much more strength than to do the absolute minimum to just get by.

At the end of one of my Black Cloud Days I feel a heavy burden of guilt surrounding me for all the tasks that were left undone or unaccomplished. How can just emptying the dishwasher feel like too much? The guilt is compounded when Casey comes home and completes a task I didn't have the energy to do.

I know these kind of days will lessen over time. I realize that compared to where I was three months ago I am doing phenomenally well. Yet there is still that nagging inside my head (stupid eating disorder knows my weaknesses) telling me that I'm not doing enough, that I'm not good enough and that I never will amount to anything. On my Black Cloud Days this voice wins over and I give into the feeling of melancholy that only it can induce.

Here's the bright side of this whole sh-bang; I at least now can recognize days like these. I can at least now work on climbing out of the mound of peanut butter. No, it won't be easy. Most likely I will be struggling to get this goo off of me for quite sometime. However, I am fortunate enough to be able to have some self-reflection. It is this self-reflection that will enable to me move forward and leave these Black Cloud Days behind me. As my sister once said, tomorrow is another day and I hope it can be a Rainbow Cloud kind of day.

Epiphany

I am at work. There is a lull in customers coming in so I have a few minutes to stand and people watch. People watching is one of my favorite hobbies. (Can it even be considered a hobby?) As I stand there people watching I slowly realize that I am silently comparing each and every one of them. My thoughts go like this: "She's thin.", "Wow, she is a bit heavy.", "She's beautiful but not at all thin." At the very moment it dawns on me. No, that is too passive of a statement, it's more like I am hit over the head with a ton of bricks. This epiphany explodes out of no where and slams all other thoughts down for the count. I am all at once overwhelmed, startled, humbled and humored by this thought that I am having.

For as long as I can remember I have strived to achieve what I have thought as "normal". "Normal" being what I have seen portrayed in movies, magazines and tv shows. "Normal" being what models and movie stars look like, ie. thin as a rail. As I look at this woman who is beautiful, no more like absolutely stunning, but in now way thin, I realize that what I have strived for my whole life, this "normal" that I thought I had to be really isn't normal at all. I realize that the woman I am starting at is normal. I realize that I am normal. I realize that for my entire life I have fought to reach this goal of unattainable beauty. This idea that beauty means that you are super skinny thin. This isn't so. Beauty like that is unattainable for a reason. That reason being that not everyone is supposed to look like that.

The epiphany that I have is that I don't need to strive to reach that idea of "beauty" that I see on the cover of a magazine because that person on that magazine is not me. I do not need to be like her because I am me. I am the most perfect me I can be because I am who I am. (Now I sound like Popeye) However, this statement is very true. Why have I pushed myself to believe that I need to look like someone else when who I am is more than good enough just as I am? Because every where you turn there is something telling us that we need to be thinner, smaller, younger and prettier.

Well, I don't need to listen to the lies that I'm not good enough exactly as I am. I was made this way for a reason. I was made this way because there is beauty in being different. There is a mystery to being unique. I still have a ways to go before I look in the mirror and can say I love what I see. I'm just like every one else in that matter. We all have issues with how we look. But I can say this, I'm no longer going to strive to look as thin or beautiful as someone else, because that's not possible. I want to be the best person I can be. I want to look back on my life and know that who I was really mattered. I never want to be remembered for what my body looks like. I want to be remembered for my character, my personality and for what I have contributed to society.

An epiphany indeed. What a lovely one to have. How lucky am I to have been able to realize in my life time that I am more than perfect just as I am. Who am I to try to be someone different. I will never disrespect myself again by believing I need to be like someone else. Instead, I am going to embrace my uniqueness and my differences. I will be proud that I do not look like someone else. I will be proud to look like me.

Synopsis

(This is my synopsis for my last day in my eating disorder treatment program. For confidentiality purposes the names have been changed.)

It is 6:38pm on the night before my discharge from treatment and I’m at a loss for words. I’m sitting here trying to come up with the right words to say regarding my experience while in treatment. Yet nothing I write seems to be able to capture exactly what I want to say because what I have gone through is so huge that words don’t seem to be enough to express all that I have to say.

As I write this I find myself crying. The tears have automatically started and just won’t stop. The feelings I have regarding this experience are too enormous to keep inside. I am realizing, right now at this very moment, not that I have changed but just how much I have changed. When I entered this program 7 weeks ago I was filled with anger, self-loathing and anxiety. Today I am leaving filled with joy, self-love and tranquility. I am no longer fighting off the tears and striking out in anger. I am allowing the tears to flow down my face and streak my cheeks with mascara. It is an odd sensation for me still, to cry, but one that I am welcoming with open arms.

This experience has been transformative for me. I feel like I have gone through my adolescence all over again. Not only was I relearning how to eat but I was learning how to appropriately manage feelings and emotions. I am thankful for the former but ever so grateful for the latter. As we all know, it was never about the food it was about using the food as a means to get rid of feeling emotions. I no longer want to be free of emotion or to be angry all the time. I now embrace emotions with open arms.

Tracy, thank you for being so real and true to yourself. Seeing that from you helped me learn that I’m capable of the same. I learned from you the only way I was going to get better was if I was not only honest to every here but also honest with myself.

Felicia, I feel so lucky to have gained your friendship. Thank you so much for all the talks and for being a true understanding friend.

Maria, thank you for being so honest and vocal during groups. I have learned so much from hearing you speak up. I wish you much success in your future.

Nora, I realize I barely know you, but I want to thank you for teaching me that my words make a bigger impact on others than I ever thought they did. I have learned to not carelessly throw words around without thinking of their affect on others. For that I thank you.

Dr. Horton, thank you for listening to me as I rambled on and on about being in pain and having insomnia. I cannot thank you enough for prescribing me that little green pill that has provided me with the wondrous gift of sleep.

Maureen, I remember the day you said to me, “So what’s keeping you in that chair? You’re an adult. You can get up and leave anytime you want.” You saw the truth in me. The truth that I didn’t want to leave. It was those words that helped me to realize that deep down inside I knew I was worth it to get better. Thank you for your patience, honesty and wisdom. I have learned a tremendous amount from you. There are many things that you have said during my time here that will always stay close to my heart.

Steve, thank you so much for listening, for being available to meet with me all those times I needed to. I was a bit scared to change therapists mid stream but was relieved to find out that it was just as easy for me to talk to you as it was for me to talk to Marie. For the record, you make an excellent stand in for Marie.

Marie, I don’t even know what to say. How can I thank someone who has made such a dramatic impact on my life as you have made on mine? All I can think of to say is thank you. I wish I could do so much more to express to you the amount of gratitude I have for you. The self discoveries I made during our sessions together are the cornerstone behind helping me to transform into this healthy person that I’m becoming. Thank you for listening. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your wisdom. Just, thank you.

My sister. You have been there for me my whole life. Yes we have had our ups and downs, but what relationship hasn’t. The fact that no matter what happens, we are able to still laugh and have fun together is what truly matters. Thank you for injecting humor into my life even when I didn’t want it.

My Ma, thank you for giving up a piece of your life to come live with us during my first week here in treatment. I do not know how I would have gotten through that first week with out you. I am so lucky to have such a strong, understanding and caring woman in my life. I’m very proud to be able to call you my Ma. My Pa, thank you for supporting me through this experience. I am so thankful to have you in my life.

My love, what in the world would I ever do without you? Lucky for me I will never need to find out the answer to that question. You truly are my rock. Saying thank you for all you have done for me truly will never be enough to let you know how much I appreciate all you have done. You have truly seen me at my very worst and yet you have loved me through it all. Even when I didn’t love myself you loved me enough for the both of us. I think back to that day, which is one of the worst days in my life. On that day I thought you were truly out to get me. Now that I look back on it I realize that you did all that you did because of how much you love me. For that I am forever grateful.

I no longer view food as the enemy, as I once did. Instead I view it as fuel to keep my body healthy and nourished. I won’t say that I have reached the point that I look forward to meals yet, but I also know that someday that day will come.

I no longer view my body as disgusting and something I should be ashamed of. I won’t say that I have reached the point of loving what I see when I look in the mirror but I can say that I’m able to appreciate my body for being healthy enough to do all the things it does for me as well as allowing me to do all the things I want to do.

I no longer care what other people think of me. I won’t say that I’ve reached the point of never giving what other people think a second thought, but I can say that I no longer allow what they might think of me to determine how I live my life.

I no longer hate myself. I won’t say that I have reached the point of perfect self-love, show me one person who has, but I can say that I love who I am and who I am becoming. I no longer view my worth as being associated to a number or a size. Instead I know that my worth comes from who I am and what I am able to accomplish. And I have a feeling I’m going to accomplish a lot with this life.

Healing

I am healing. I have realized that this is a slow process especially considering that I have been building these injuries for several years. These injuries are not apparent to the eye, they are not physical injuries. No, these injuries are far worse. These injuries are emotional, mental and psychological. I'm not proud that I have allowed these injuries to accrue over time. I can only imagine how deep the scar tissue will be once they heal, but heal they must. I will no longer allow myself to suffer in these wounds that keep me trapped, keep me from moving forward in my life.

My life. It is interesting to view my life through the eyes that I now have, instead of the clouded eyes that I have been used to in the past. My life used to be filled with fear of the "what ifs", the "shouldn'ts" and the "not good enoughs". Now my life is filled with the possibilities of what can be, what could be and what will be. I now believe that I have the ability to accomplish anything with this life. No longer will I allow fear to keep me trapped from growing, from moving forward or from living life to the fullest.

I think of my grandmother, she was an independent and strong woman who never allowed the doubts of others stop her from what she wanted to accomplish. My grandmother accomplished so much in her life that she has left a legacy in her part of Alaska. She never intended to leave a legacy behind her. She never set out to do something so that she would be remembered for doing it, she simply did it because she wanted to do it. My grandmother taught me many valuable lessons but I think one of the most valuable things she ever taught me was not spoken in words but spoken in actions. When she set out to do something she accomplished it and when she did so she did by fully investing herself in the project.

Yes, I'm healing a great deal right now. This trip home is doing me a world of good. I know that I still have a long road to recovery before I am fully healed. Of course, there is always the possibility that I will never be fully healed but one thing I know for sure is that the hole that has been gaping for so long in my heart, the hole that I so desperately tried to fill up with food, is a bit smaller than it was before I began this trip.

I have a feeling that if I continue to look inward and reflect on who I am and where I want to go that hole may just disappear entirely. Here's hoping.