Gas for the engine...

Things were so pitch black that there was no light shining in. My four walls were dark and desolate with  not a glimmer of light. Life was spiraling out of control and there was no hope. I did not trust anyone except the voices of ED (eating disorder) at the time. The life of anorexia was so self-consuming, it was deadly. I often wondered how I was able to untangle myself from the wrath of ED. My gas tank was running on fumes, and some how I made it through the doors of death.

I often ask myself, "what kept me going?" What kept the darkness from the coffin from consuming my soul? I somehow knew deep down that there was more to life than my best friend ED. I was trying to believe that I was a separate person from ED. I needed to believe and trust all the people that were on Ariane's side not ED's side. 

At first, hope and inspiration was so meager and sparse, that it was practically non-existent. It was with all my supports and the little voice of Ariane, that kept things running. ED's life goals did not match up with mine. I did not want to be a lifeless-corpse with a feeding tube down my nose my entire life. I had dreams and aspirations to succeed. 

Ultimately, it was the little voice of Ariane that needed to make the changes in order to live a fruitful, meaningful life. It was not, and still is not, easy to stay a float above the struggle. Once I started believing in myself, I re-learned how to take care of myself. I still struggle to put myself first, but it comes much easier as my voice stays strong. The gas tank runs half full now.

Journey

Journey

A road less walked

a path less taken

a word to talk.

To begin a journey

and to fail at times

but to keep learning.

Failure is being stuck,

learning from mistakes

is much better luck.

A place so sacred and divine

to call your own

and to begin to survive.

The pain and agony

the loss and shame

to learn to enjoy life fully.

To continue the steps

one foot forward

and taking the leaps.

Recovery is a true journey.

Written by:

-A.N.T.

Feeling High

I search for feeling high. I look under rocks and trash to find my fix. I go beyond the depths of earth to find it. I would feel high from my eating disorder and other unhealthy coping skills. The adrenaline would rush through my veins to my head. I would begin to feel numb, high as a kite.

Suddenly, I began to feel high again without my unhealthy coping skills. It was foreign territory. I woke up yesterday listening to the radio, laughing out loud at the conversation that was occurring  I walked into work with my head held high, smiling at every person that walked by me. I started to get report, while I was thinking of my day. I was excited to work; I felt high. I was ecstatic to see my patients and make a difference in their lives. My life got a glimpse of being high on life.

Today, I woke up and felt lost. I was wondering what I could do to fill my empty day. I thought of many things that would not match up with my path to recovery. Suddenly, I thought of something else such as the gym. I was not motivated to go to the gym. All I wanted to do was feel high right now. The struggle to put on my gym clothes was extremely challenging. I began to think of negative thoughts, "I am not in shape. I am not good enough to work out." Despite the negative thinking, I put my stinky shoes on and walked to the gym. I worked up a sweat. I felt amazing. I had that wonderful high in my veins pumping up to my brain. I had come to a point in my recovery that I could work out healthily.  I worked out for a set amount of time, despite wanting to go longer. I was proud of myself.

I was proud! I was at a turning point on my road to recovery. I was starting to enjoy the simple pleasure in my life again. I got glimpses of life on the other side of the darkness. I was able to laugh, play, work, sweat, and be present in reality. Today, I wish everyone a happy, fruitful day.


-A.N.T.

"I invent creative solutions to every problem."
-Amy Zerner and Monte Farber

Pieces to the puzzle

A u-turn has occurred this year on my road to recovery.  I knew I was hitting a dark hole at the start of 2013. I was falling down the well, loosing my sights on the sun. The darkness had arrived at my door. I knew I needed help when I practically hit bottom and could not find the shine of the light.

My nails were bleeding and full of dirt while I tried to climb up my well. I could not do it alone anymore. I needed professional help so, I entered through the revolving door again for treatment. My independence was taken away, but I was learning new healthy ways to cope. Tears were filling my eyes as I attempted to excel forward with treatment. I was scared, afraid, and felt alone at times, but I knew that it was the necessary steps I needed to take. I leaned on my friends and family, supports, and my new treatment team.

One of my next steps, was to take part in a women's group partial program. It was there that I built more skills. I started to redevelop structure to my day in the outside world. It sure was not easy to talk about feelings and past memories, but I knew I needed to face some of it. My pieces to my puzzle were starting to fit together.

I received complete care at the partial program, receiving ample time to build on skills. Part of my next steps forward, I found a wonderful new clinician and nutritionist to complete my team. My insurance even agreed to a single-case agreement to see my psychiatrist out-patient more frequently. I started going to Smart Recovery groups to sharpen my toolbox. My PCP visits have increased to every two to three weeks. I can now say my puzzle is a masterpiece with light gleaming on it.

-A.N.T.

"With one step forward, I shall ascend to the stars"

Childhood dreams

Are you currently living the life that you dreamed about as a child? If not what are the excuses and yes-buts that are standing in the way? How did you get to where you are at now? What sacrifices and choices did you make?

As a child, I dreamed of a lot of different career paths that I wanted to pursue. I remember my first toy stethoscope and the urge to be a doctor or veterinarian at such a young age. My dreams did not stop there. I had a very imaginative mind growing up. During my younger years, I wanted to be the first female pro-hockey player, garbage woman, house wife with twelve children, free-lance "bum" in California and physical therapist. The last dream was to work in the medical field, which led me to the place I am at now.

What were the barriers to fulfilling my dreams. How did I end up where I am now?  Going back to school, the third time around to become who I am now, was not easy. There were the fears of not succeeding, affordability, my battle with anorexia, and what if I could not take the pressure and had to drop out again? Well, I became a registered nurse, despite the barriers. The barriers and sacrifices I over came to get to where I am at now did not compare to the total gratification. It is so monumental and more significant than I could ever imagine.

Achieving my goals and reaching success, took a great amount of commitment. Commitment to me means getting up when you are down  and facing barriers you encounter on your journey. Making a change can be risky.Taking no risk at all, means nothing will change. The "You Go Girl" motto, adopted from my high school track coach, helped me stay on track. So think back and try to find your childhood voice. Pursue your dreams.

-A.N.T.

Gaining: Healthy Weight

     It was over ten years ago that the refeeding process started. I had entered into a new world that day, knowing something was not quite right. I had no clue it was an eating disorder that was killing me. I was scared and afraid of my present and future life. I sat in the hospital with a feeding tube down my nose, feeding me nutrients. At the time, I was confused and a lost soul trying to discover myself. The gaining process had begun to get me to a safe weight so, that I could be mentally and cognitively present and accept treatment for an eating disorder (E.D.).

     One of the hardest things was trusting my providers and letting go of control. At the time, I thought everyone was out to get me fat. It never occurred to me that they were on my side until later in my treatment. I remember eating ALL the time and questioning every move. The days I refused to eat a meal, I was given supplements such as Boost. E.D. was in control of me and fighting back hard to not survive. There was a small part of me that was fighting against E.D. and wanting a different life.

     It took me a very long time to get to a set weight .Part of my treatment was daily "weigh-ins" first thing in the morning. I would face-out from the scale and numbers. We never knew what we weighed during treatment at intensive care places. Till this day, I still face-out for my weigh-ins at my PCP's office. It is rather triggering to know my weight while I still fight to recover.

     Part of the gaining process, a momentous moment in my life happened. I was able to get my menstrual cycle back. I was around the age of twenty-seven. It was so scary to know my body was becoming healthy, but also such a proud moment. I have reached a hurdle, a milestone on my road to recovery. The "gaining" process was almost complete and was starting to turn into the maintenance phase.

     Now, I am at a healthy weight but still struggle with maintaining. I struggle everyday with eating three meals a day and trusting my body's regulation. I am restarting to see a nutritionist for my best interest and to help me progress with recovery. My little voice has turned into a monstrous yell. E.D. is becoming my little voice currently.


-A.N.T.

“It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.”

— Wisdom of Confucius

My Eulogy...

Each minute I spend weighing myself, counting calories, restricting, abusing substances, or excessively exercising is a minute away from doing what really matters most to me.  How do I want people to remember me? What would I like people to say about me? What matters most in life? What inscription would I want on my epitaph? What would I want my life to stand for? When it comes down to it, no matter how perfect my body is, my body will decay when it dies.

At the least, I would want people to say that I was a loving, caring, and an outgoing women who never gave up. I want glorious stories told about me not battle scars around my heart. I do not want to be remembered as a lifeless-corpse, losing the battle to E.D.  My inscription to my epitaph would read: here lies the strongest, most courageous, woman who would not lose the fight. No where in there would there be a mention of or inscription that read deceased from E.D.

-A.N.T.

***Disclaimer: this entry is not meant to be depressing or morbid but to be uplifting. A moment to take a real look at my life and how I want to truly live it. May you take a moment to reflect too.***