One Woman's (Very True) Story

Body dysmorphic disorder definition
Function: n
:  pathological preoccupation with an imagined or slight physical defect of one's body to the point of causing significant stress or behavioral impairment in several areas (as work and personal relationships)
(source dictionary.com)

She is not physically perfect,  As a matter of fact, she feels so far from perfect that every time she looks in a mirror, she can only see her flaws.  She can't help but pick herself apart.  She sees the stomach that sticks out farther than her boobs.  She sees the acne that has plagued her for her entire life.  Somewhere in her gut, a feeling of disgust has started to germinate.  This disgust that makes it hard to be intimate with the man she loves.  The man that tells her everyday how beautiful she is, and she doesn't know how to explain to him.  She doesn't know how to tell him that she doesn't think he's lying, but deep in her heart she knows it's not the truth.
She is kept awake with thoughts of the fact that the man will one day be on the road, away from her, with girls throwing themselves at him.  That they will be skinnier, have bigger tits, a firmer ass.  That they will be younger.  Anxiety about what could happen to them eat at her heart and make her question whether everything they have could possibly work out in the long run.  He tells her she the most beautiful girl in the world, but the images he looks at to get off make her question if he's just placating her.
When she was younger, she had a drug problem and an eating disorder.  These things don't seem to go hand in hand, but they do.  They both kept her from eating and gaining weight.  They kept her at a size 7, still feeling fat, because she wasn't a size 5, a size 3 or smaller.  She looks back and knows that she was incredibly unhealthy and on a slow suicide track, but a small part of her misses how easy it made it to stay so small.
She is twice the size she used to be.  It makes her want to cry somedays, because she feels disgusting.  She tries to diet and tries to exercise to lose the weight, but always ends up sabotaging herself.  She is afraid it will never be enough and if she starts losing, she will put herself back in the mindset that skinny is better than healthy.  This makes her want to cry, because she can't seem to win and she is constantly frustrated with battling herself.
She hears people say things like "why can't people just get over it and accept who they are?"  She hears stories of people just like her who never feel like they can quite lose enough weight even as they're being told if they look like they're going to blow away in the wind.  She wishes she knew how to fix this and how to have a healthy attitude about herself and her body.  If she could figure that out, maybe she could help all those others she hears.
Maybe, she thinks, being vocal and honest in this way is a good first step.

~ Day 1 ~

We are all survivors.
I am a survivor of addiction, of loss, of love, of heartbreak, of self mutilation, of domestic violence.
I am a survivor of myself.
I am stronger than I think.
I have stories to tell and hope to give.

Drowning in Nostalgia

Recently, a group on facebook has become popular with people I knew "back in the day" that pretty much chronicles the misadventures of our lives ten plus years ago.  Now, I'm all one for a little bit of nostalgia and "My, wasn't life awesome before I had to be responsible for two small things that need me to have my shit together?"  It's a little sad, because there are lots of people who are gone who made the world a little bit brighter.  Mostly though, there are a lot of the rose colored glasses we put on when looking at the past and talk of reunions and reconnecting.  The myth that we were so much happier when we were younger.  I do call it a myth, because I fell into this a little the past couple of days.

Then I had a revelation:  It really wasn't all that great.  I mean, I had great friends and good times.  I also had an extreme amount of drama that even a drama queen like me couldn't handle.  I think it's human nature to put the past in this snow globe and go, "Awwwwwwwwwww, remember when things were easier?"  Here's my answer, things weren't easier.  They were just different.

Me personally, I wouldn't go back to that if I was given the choice.  I would never go back to being the insecure wreck that I was.  Half the time, I didn't know who I was.  I'd go maybe a week thinking maybe I'd figured it out, but in the end it was just another form of me running away.  In all honesty, I was miserable.  I was a cutter, I tried to commit suicide more than once and I was fighting with an eating disorder.  The people I hung out with were a lot of the same.  We were a bunch of lost kids, looking for something to believe in, and we found each other.  We probably saved each other's lives more than once.

Here's the kicker, though.  We've gotten married, we've had kids, we've found careers, we've grown up.  I, for one, know that I've found a balance and peace I never thought I'd find back in those days.  I know that I don't speak for everyone, because at the end of the day I can only speak for myself, but I don't want to go back there.  The people who are meant to still be in my life, are.  I'd be happy to reconnect with some people, but in general, the past is the past and it's done it's job to make us who we are.  There's no reason to try and go back and recreate a magic that (if it ever was there) is gone.  So maybe it's time to be thankful for what you had, have and will have tomorrow and leave it at that.

RIP Downtown SR.

The Problem with Blogging and Me...

I kind of suck at keeping up with these things.  In case no one noticed.  Part of it is, I really, really want to say something and at the end of the day, there isn't always an immense amount of deep to say.

Things are okay-ish.  They're very steady.  There isn't enough money, of course.  But we're managing and we're kind of getting through it.  We're not evicted yet so that's always a positive.  Kids are good and full of much age appropriate difficulties and cuteness at the same time.  Evan is finally adjusted to school and Seraphina is potty training at an astounding rate so there's always that.

Things with the boy are good.  Very steady.  I sometimes wonder if he's in it for the long haul, but I think that's just 30 plus paranoia that I'm putting time into something that he's not 100% into.  Even though I know he is, some days I don't.  Which probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense unless you know me WAY too well.

I'm totally going to try and post more.  Because I need to.  For my own sake as much as anything else.  I need coffee before I do much else though...

Old Shit

Sever my ties with the emotional consequences of my actions.  Sever myself from any emotion.  This hurts so much.  Breathing in my bleeding words, cut up and fucked up by my broken promises.  And I never meant to be the derelict I am now.  I never meant to tell you all those lies.  I would have rather lived with the jagged edges of my soul then to have numbed the pain and hurt you more.  So many addictions and afflictions they haven't found a cure for yet.  So many addictions and afflictions that keep haunting me.  I want a bottle of mercy and a syringe of it doesn't matter that much.  Been dying since I was 13.  I'll be dying until the world decides I can give up and quit.  I don't want to care anymore.  Not about anything.  Not about you.  Then it wouldn't matter that I lied.
(Written May 27, 2001, I don't remember what about, but probably some relationship gone bad or not gone anywhere at all.)

Some Girls Do by Teresa McWhirter


My rating: 2 of 5 stars
So, it's a cute little story.  It's by no means terribly original or terribly great, but it's enjoyable.  Probably could have dealt with a few less main characters since given the length you never quite get into anyone's stories enough as you want to.  In all fairness, I probably would have LOVED it when I was 15 though.

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The Dante Club: A Novel by Matthew Pearl


My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I'm not going to lie, I'm not huge on historical fiction.  Usually it has little to do with actual history and more to do with "hey here's some people you might have heard of, now let me put them in an absurd situation and have them act like they probably never would have".  This was different though.  I am a huge fan of Dante to begin with and find the concept of a killer modeling his murders after Dante fascinating.  Add to that the fact the author did his research (extensive at that) on the people, time and place where it's set (Boston, right before the turn of the 19th century) and it makes for a great read.  It did take a bit to get into and those who don't like gore and graphic scenes might have a problem with some parts of the Dante Club, but overall I'd highly, highly recommend it.

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