Just a Few Friday Reminders

Don't ever lose sight of your worth.

Recovery, therapy, boundaries...

All of those things have the ability to produce a sense of, "If I emotionally detach myself from everything, then it will be easier to go through this treatment."

That's actually very far from accurate.

This is our time to become who we are in full vulnerability, full authenticity.

We get to be our best selves, regardless of what other people think of you, say about you, or project of you.

It's our time to be courageous and real and raw.

It's our time to be strong and completely us in every way.

And, if people don't like that - then they don't need to come around.

As a reminder, life is hard enough.

It Takes REAL Committment

Hear me out:

When you are in recovery, there is nothing comfortable about it.

NOTHING.

Not a thing.

Zip.

Zero.

Zilch.

Nada.

It sucks.

It sucks a lot.

Like, it sucks the suck out of the suck.

It is not full of unicorns and glitter and party hats.

It's full of snot running down your face and into your lap.

It's full of fatigue like you've never experienced.

It's full of fighting with your brain and your heart for something better.

It's full of grief, fear, sadness, shock, guilt, embarrassment.

It is ugly.

Recovery is about committing every single day to do what is best...

What is best for every other day of your life.

For not giving up on what you want most for what you want right this minute.

And, when you are an addict - you want actually have to fight those cravings.

It's about not accepting anything less than your worth.

Which is never up for discussion.

It's about changing your life so that your new life is safe from your old life.

It's about boundaries and walls and ending relationships and being vulnerable like you've never been vulnerable before.

It's about being raw and emotionally naked to those in your circle.

It's about admitting that what you've been doing is not okay.

It's about taking that little tiny mustard seed of hope and trying to live on it.

It's about dating yourself, so to speak.

Finding out who you are and what you love and then being so committed to it that anything not in alignment with those things is out the door.

Be so EFFING committed to you and your worth that you accept nothing less than divinity.

Feelings Wheel

T sent me this wheel yesterday.

It's pretty spectacular for those of us who are learning about feelings...

What they are...

What their name is...

Where they fall in the City of Feelings...

What we do with them...

Eating Disorder Awareness Week

It's a pretty important week!

It is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week.

As you know, I had an eating disorder.

The proper way, as an addict, to say it is that I HAVE an eating disorder.

I was hospitalized in 2010.

I weighed 103 pounds.

I was not well.

At all.

In fact, at the point that I was admitted to the hospital, my mast cells were eating each other.

I was very sick.

These pictures make me look like I had it all under control, don't they?

That is part of addiction, isn't it?

To make it all look like it's under control on the outside, when on the inside you are dying - physically or emotionally or spiritually or all of the above.

And, I was.

From the time I was VERY young, my weight was a topic of conversation.

And, not just from strangers - although they chimed in as well.

From family.

I was "too chubby."

"Cute clothes at the department stores were hard to find for my size."

"Boys would like me better if I trimmed down a bit."

I needed to "watch what I ate."

I needed to be "more active."

I was a child.

A little girl.

And, a little girl who had other issues as well.

It was a terrible double whammy for me.

As I got older and began to notice that boys who I wanted to have like me didn't like me, I became more and more aware of my looks: my weight, my height, my clothes, my hair, etc.

After I had four babies in four years, I was exhausted.

My body was, in many ways, beyond repair.

I was stressed out to the enth degree.

I was depressed.

I was in a bad place.

I stopped eating.

The ironic part here is that I didn't stop eating to lose weight.

I stopped eating because I am a stress non-eater.

I stopped eating because I was too busy, too tired, too worried about my own kids.

Then, I didn't have money to feed all of us.

So, I made sure they were fed and ate less.

It all made sense in my head, but it was terrible for my body.

When I was admitted, I was told that I would not be discharged until I was at 120 pounds.

They chose my food and the times I would eat.

It was FAR too much for a girl who hadn't been eating for a minute!

However, I got up to 120 pounds and was discharged.

And, although there have been times when I have fluctuated 5 pounds up or down, I have remained steady.

I have become much more aware of my eating.

Now I eat to feel good.

If I want ice cream, Mama is going to eat some ice cream!

I have found that bread, rice, potatoes, grapes... they don't make my belly feel too good.

So, I try not to eat them.

I have found that intermittent fasting helps my gut.

I have found that I love to work out to feel strong and healthy - not to be skinny.

Just a few months ago, I looked in the mirror and decided that I was immensely grateful for my body-

The cellulite (of which I have a lot), the stretch marks, the tiny boobs, the big booty and hips, the scars, the bumps, the dark spots...

I am SO grateful for this body, which brought four perfect boys to me.

I am SO grateful for this body that has healed from oh, so much.

It wasn't always like that.

That makes me even more grateful.

Now, for those who are struggling with any addiction that is related to food or body image in any way:

There IS help.

There are 12-step programs specifically for you.

There are therapists who are meant for you.

There is hope.

There is the ability to recover.

It is not simple.

It is not super speedy.

But, it's real.

And it will release you from the bonds of addiction.

You are not alone.

You are seen.

You are loved.

You are worthy of hope.

Kindness

 I love this quote.

We are not here to judge each other.

We are not here to put each other down.

We are not here to make other people's lives worse.

We are here to love.

We are here to uplift.

We are here to root for the rise of others.

We are here to help each other.

Because that is what Jesus does.

FriYAY

I know that everyone says to live in the present...

To live every single day as if it is your last... (I find that depressing)

To be your best self every day...

That's all fine and great.

But I am partial to Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays.

For real.

And, I don't feel bad about that.

Fridays seem so, like, earned.

You know?

Like, I FREAKING made it through this week...

Almost.

Grief

Last week, I had a very hard day.

I talked about it a little bit last week on this blog.

I had to contact my Katryna to work through some feelings.

T was aware of it, too.

But not all of it.

See, there is someone who has been in my life for a couple of years now.

This person has been a substantial, somewhat constant fixture in our lives.

This person is now moving away.

I thought that was the part that I was mourning.

I was wrong.

I am mourning the loss of that person, as I knew them, altogether.

When this person told me that they were moving, they said some other things as well.

As an addict of validation, I have always (and I do mean ALWAYS) done everything asked of me in order to make the other person happy.

To make them like me.

To make them want to be with me.

Even if it felt uncomfortable.

Even if it felt wrong.

Even if it made me feel horrible.

I would do it anyways, in order to get validation. 

Until now.

Eight months ago, I would have done exactly what was suggested.

Not now.

Eight months ago, I would have shoved my shame and guilt and sadness into that closet and sought for the validation that I was addicted to.

Not now.

Last night, T called me.

I told her that I wouldn't be seeing him before he moves.

Then I told her why.

She, too, was sad.

What happened to that person that I knew and loved?

He's just on a different path right now and that's okay.

His value and worth are no less.

But, my choices are different.

I no longer seek for validation like I did before.

I am able to sit with my feelings and thoughts and emotions and all of those things tell me to abstain from spending that time.

So, I will.

I told T that he has lost the right to spend time with me in person.

However, I have given myself the right to tell him how I feel over the phone.

And, I will.

Right now, I am mourning the loss of the person that I knew and loved.

I will always love him.

Always.

I just won't do whatever is necessary for my own validation anymore.

Straighten That Crown

I am learning.

As you know, I have been on a path of discovery regarding feelings since June. 

Eight months in, I am learning.

One thing that really evokes feelings in me that would fall in the category of content, peace, comfort, safety, love, joy... is music.

In particular, spiritual music.

In particular even more, primary music.

There is something about sitting with my primary kids on Sundays at lunchtime when everyone is hungry and tired and wild and loud and having the piano player start hitting the notes to a song that just straightens the crowns of everyone in the room that puts me in a place of absolute heaven...

Then to hear these babes sing with all their might in the most angelic voices I've ever heard...

Heaven on Earth.

There are songs that I automatically sing in my head when I am having a hard time falling asleep, or when I feel fear...

Those songs are my comfort.

They are where they go when I want to run, but can't.

There are always, always going to be times that are painful.

We will feel as though we are looking through a tiny peep hole at our world that is so full of darkness.

They moments WILL change us.

They are meant to change us.

Let them change you in ways that are for the better.

Straighten your crown and carry on.

YOU are a child of God.

Disaster of a Day

Yesterday was a disaster of a dang day.

I believe that it started with me hating the fact that today was going to be Valentine's Day.

It started with my youngest offspring being home for the fourth straight day with Influenza.

Then it moved into a text message that legit rocked me to the core.

Oh, the feelings and emotions.

They were not good.

They sucked and I wanted more than anything to run so far away that I would lose the feelings and emotions and they would not be able to find me...

They felt so horrible that I wanted to wash my skin with an SOS pad until I couldn't feel anymore.

I am still quite uncomfortable with feelings that I don't understand.

I could NOT figure out why I was feeling whatever it was I was feeling that I couldn't figure out.

I messaged T.

I went to the store and walked around, crying.

I messaged her again.

Then, it became clear that I needed Katryna.

I texted her.

I did exactly what she told me to do.

Then I messaged T again.

I went home with every single desire to go to the gym for the first time this week.

And instead, I asked Colton to pray with me, I put in a sad movie and I cried myself to sleep.

And, that's okay.

Today, I woke up with the decision to spread the love in my heart.

I have a lot of it.

I woke up with a desire to really push my doctors to figure out what is wrong with me.

I get through me day, but as soon as I get into my car to go home, I am SO sick.

So sick.

I can barely breathe enough to get home.

No gym.

That's not good for me.

Today, I woke up to a gift from my Brax...

Lots of love from Colton and Kaydon...

A text from my Jackson...

A funny video from D...

And a great big Diet Coke!

Greatest Showman

As I sit down at my makeup/business table/desk thing in the mornings, I've been putting on the Greatest Showman soundtrack.

I am brave.

I am bruised.

I am who I'm meant to be.

THIS IS ME.

If that's not an inspiring way to start the day, I haven't found one.

So, I put it up way loud and sing along.

One of the most in-depth topics Katryna and I focused on was spiritual -

The fact that I am who I am.

The fact that I was exactly who I am when I came to Earth.

In fact, our Spirits are fully mature when we are born on Earth.

So, this is who I was before I even came here.

I am brave.

I am bruised.

Look out 'cause here I come.

I won't let them (or ME) break them down.

I know that there's a place for all of us.

I'm not scared to be seen for exactly who I am!

I am who I'm meant to be.

Less

Yesterday, I had a long FB Messenger discussion with T.

That's how we do.

And, honestly there really is never any misunderstanding even though we are typing our situation out.

We get each other.

So, it works.

Anywho.

We were discussing a person that I know.

We were discussing that person's children and how they are handling some life changes-ish that their parent is making.

As we were talking about it, I told T how grateful I actually was to be able to watch this unfold.

It has made me even more aware of what I did to my own children in the midst of my addiction to validation.

See, I honestly believed that I was being a good mom.

There was a roof over our heads.

There was food in the pantry, cupboards, and fridge.

There was running water.

There were beds and a furnace, appliances and clothing...

I was still working a lot.

What I completely failed to recognize was that I was not meeting their emotional or spiritual needs.

They just wanted their mama.

At home.

At night.

Even if I was resting in my bed.

They wanted their mama close by them.

They wanted to come talk to me or be able to rely on me to help them with life problems.

They wanted to know where I was all the time.

In my attempts, at times, to protect them - I would simply go about my business without telling them every detail.

Now, I am in NO way trying to validate what I was and was not doing.

I am simply expressing gratitude for understanding of my addiction, the depths of it that I was in for decades, and what that illness did and can continue to do to my children if I don't remain in a state of awareness of my addiction and the ill-effects of it.

That's what it means to be in recovery.

Always striving to be better.

Always being aware of what I am doing and WHY I am doing it.

Changing behaviors as I realize them.

And, communicating with my children in every possible way. 

I saw this quote yesterday on Instagram.

I love this follow.

I often feel that these poems they write are meant specifically for me.

We all learn and feel differently, right?

I learn and feel and discover through the written word, mostly.

As T and I discussed this person and the choices that are being made, I realized that in many ways I have deleted a LOT of drama from my life.

A LOT!

That has helped me and my boys a great deal.

I absolutely love the quote about how when we know better, we have the ability to DO better.

There are also several talks about the fact that agency is not always what we think it is.

Yes, we all have agency.

We all have the ability to choose.

However, we can only utilize that agency based on the knowledge that we have.

And, God knows what that is.

Just one more reason why only He should be the judge.

It's Easy

The more aware of myself I am, the more aware of myself I am.

Got that?

I find myself judging.

A lot.

Like, when someone calls seven times to yell about a free service...

I am judging them.

I am most certainly not taking the time at that point to try to understand.

I am low on patience and pretty much empty on compassion.

I have separated myself from good feelings, People.

It's so easy to judge.

It's so easy to compare.

It's so easy to lack understanding... or to dismiss any compassion.

It's so easy to be a turd!

I can be quite a turd.

But guess what?!

Good hearts choose poor methods.

Daily.

Let's get over it!

One more thing...

I want to be beautiful.

Always a Reason

My grandpa was here a couple of weeks ago.

I visited with him for a time.

He asked how work was.

He could tell before I even answered that I was not especially happy in my full-time job.

He conversed with me about how I need to be doing what makes me happy.

And, I am.

Just in other ways.
Read on.

As I have gone through trials in my life, there have been some that have just about broken me completely.

Where I did not feel that I could possibly go on.

The weight was too heavy and I felt too weak to continue.

In those dark times, I have taken my mind to a place where I believe that God has given my challenges in order to bless others who might one day experience something similar. 

When I think that way, I feel almost honored to be going through my trial.

There are many things in my life that I have experienced that have caused others to feel comfortable coming to talk to me.

A child with Autism.

Children with multiple health challenges.

Addiction.

Single parenthood.

Abuse.

Neglect.

Divorce.

Depression.
My own health issues.

Etc.

Friday, a sweet friend, a co-worker's wife came to my office.

She stood in front of Xavier's desk.

I looked out and saw her and knew right away that she needed me.

Her husband drove her to my office.

I went out and I held her.

I talked to her.

She talked to me.

Then, I took her in my office, closed the door and, together, we called her doctor.

She trusted ME.

Of all the people she could have gone to, she chose ME.

Not because I'm a professional.

Not because I'm brilliant.

Because she knew she could.

Because she knew I'd empathize.

Because she knew she'd be safe.

Because she knew I loved her.

This is the reason.

This is the reason, I have to believe, that I go through trials.

So that I know hurt and pain and fear.

I was able to talk to her about feeling ALL the feelings.

I know the resources, and I know how to get in touch with them.

And, we did.

I sent her away safe.

And with the knowledge that she is loved.

I told her, "Life is not fair. This is not fair. God DOES give us more than we can handle." I also told her that she is known. And loved. And that He gives us, always, who and what we need in these times. Then I told her about private, sacred experiences that I've had and that I have no doubt she will have her own.

Then, I remembered my talk with my grandpa.

I get to do what I love daily.

I get to help others who are going through really tough times because God has given me the ability to go through very similar things so that I can love them and comfort them and get them to where they need to be.

I get to sell CBD.

I get to help people who need help.

I don't get paid for it, in money at least.

But, I get to feel His love for others and there is no price you can put on that.

I am being exactly who I am supposed to be for those who need me right now.

That's pretty amazing.

The Cave

As I laid in bed last night, I turned on a Hulu Documentary.

This has been my jam this week.

Heart monitor.

No gym.

No showering.

Lots of crying.

And Documentary-watching.

This one, though.

This one got me.

This is about a FEMALE doctor in Syria.

Did you hear me??
FEMALE DOCTOR in SYRIA.

She managed a hospital out of a cave, because they were safe from the endless and deadly bombings that went on 24 hours a day, for days and weeks, months and years.

She is a pediatrician by training.

The children who came into her makeshift hospital hourly absolutely shook me.

They ran out of food.

They ran out of medication.

There was no anesthesia. 

They played music.

Music.

Music was the anesthesia.

She cried.

The other doctors and nurses and attendants would cry.

Her parents continually begged her to come home.

She stood strong.

She was absolutely dedicated to saving lives.

And she saved thousands.

Then, the chemical weapons started in.

There is no cure for chemical weapons.

None.

Babies, small children, suffocating from chemical weapons.

My gosh, it shook me.

Men would come in, with their children and refuse to have a female doctor help treat them.

Because to them - women's only jobs are in the home.

She was a bulldog.

She refused to back down.

She would risk her life and travel to homes, where four and five children were slowly dying from malnutrition.

She would offer the mothers jobs in her hospital.

They would have to say "no," because the men in their lives would not allow it.

So, instead of making money to buy food to save the lives of their children, they had to decline because they are women.

She is a hero.

A real life hero.

How many of us have the opportunity to make an actual difference?

ALL OF US.

We can smile at a stranger.

We can compliment someone.

We can make a little extra food and share with a family.

We can send a note of encouragement.

And, in this country, we (as females) can work and support our families.

We can work wherever a man can work.

We can work hard.

We can work AND take care of our homes.

I do.

Everyday.

The Comfort Zone

I saw this yesterday and really liked the illustration.

We go in and out of zones throughout our lives.

In fact, we could be in multiple zones at one time, in one day.

With our family, we might be in the comfort zone, while in our career we might be in the growth zone.

I like the ability to look at illustrations like this and determine where I'm at when I am having varying feelings and emotions. 

These types of pictures help me to identify where I'm at, what it means, and what (if anything) I can do about it.

I lived most of my 42 year stuck in the fear zone... 

With very few exits from that zone. 

How sad is that?!

Now, I find myself going through each of the zones, rather fluidly.

I find myself better able to define where I'm at and what I'm feeling.

The fear zone is not a "bad place," however it is a place that we certainly don't want to take up residency.

So, we try to learn and grow!

This quote is my jam!

I cannot count how many times God has pulled me right out of situations, or has removed people from my life. I have felt such sadness on so many levels when this has happened! Like, wait! I NEEDED them. They validated me. Not in good ways, sure... but validation nonetheless. 

AND, I know better than God!

He can't possibly know how I feel...

Silly Girl, God always knows better.

What a blessing!

My First Trip Into Addiction

Last week, I was reading a Facebook post.

It was written by an associate of mine.

She is on a health-journey: nutrition, exercise, doctor's visits, etc.

She posts everyday about her journey.

Really vulnerable photos.

Really vulnerable words.

Very real and raw and so admirable!

She had posted some pictures of other women that she keeps on her mirror.

She calls the pictures her motivation. 

However, she is very clear about the fact that each of our bodies is different and that she, nor any of us, will ever look just like someone else.

The comments were, unfortunately, not shocking.

All from women.

"That girl is too skinny. You don't want to look like her."
"That girl looks like a man with those muscles. Don't try to look like that!"

"That girl needs to lose some more inches. You're better than that."

It took me back to my first memories of addiction.

I had an eating disorder.

I was addicted to making my body look a certain way in order to be validated.

Remember, my addiction is to validation.

Growing up, I was told countless times that I needed to lose weight.

I needed to be smaller so the boys would like me.

I needed to eat less.

I needed to shrink so I could fit into the cute clothes at the expensive department stores.

I began restricting my food intake in high school... and then I got out of control with it.

I gained 70 pounds each of my four pregnancies, which were each year for four years.

Then, I stopped eating.

When I ate, I would purge.

I then felt that I had control over whether or not I would be validated.

I was firm on the fact that no one would ever talk about me being heavy again.

And, they didn't.

But now...

NOW, they talked about me being too thin.

They talked about me being too bony and unattractive.

They talked about me needing to eat more.

They talked about me needing to be healthy.

Which is it, People?!

Do you want me fat or do you want me skinny??

Eventually, in 2010, I was admitted into a psych ward.

I was diagnosed with Anorexia.

I weighed 103 pounds.

My mast cells were eating each other.

This is probably where my current heart issues come from, but we can't be sure.

I was not discharged until I weighed 120.

I have stuck to that weight since, plus or minus five pounds now and then. (ice cream)

Those same people STILL talk about my weight, my body, my looks...

Like it matters.

I go right on living my life...

Finally.

Let me make something very clear, Ladies AND Gentleman (by the way, men have eating disorders in large numbers)...

If you don't like the way someone looks, don't look at them.

Okay?

Don't look at me!!

If my waist is too small and my boobs are too small and my hips and butt are too big, look the other damn way!

I am finally healthy with my body image.

Cellulite and all.

42 years and finally, I'm okay with my body.

I don't care if you're not.

So, keep it to your damn self.

How many times do we stop and think, "Maybe I should not have an opinion about someone else's looks... Maybe that's not my role... Maybe that takes up time and effort that I can put toward something else..."

When we say things to people, it sticks.

We have no idea how vulnerable they are.

Instead of saying, "Your weight is perfect. Your butt is perfect. Your boobs are perfect. You are the perfect shape, the perfect height, the perfect whatever..."

Say, "You bring me so much joy. You are beautiful. Your smile lights up a room. Thank you for showing up for me. Thank you for rooting for the rise of others. Thank you for your vulnerability, your confidence, your courage."

Because maybe, you are dealing with someone who has a tendency toward addiction.

Maybe you are dealing with someone who has Depression.

Maybe you are dealing with someone who is really broken at that moment.

Golden rule!

Go and love someone exactly as they are!

Demi Lovato

Demi Lovato.

I have never met her.

I've never seen her in person.

I've never owned a Demi Lovato album.

But, I get Demi Lovato.

Sunday night, she represented the United States of America and sang the National Anthem.

It was flawless, in my opinion.

Powerful. Fierce. Beautiful. 

I felt it in my soul.

I also felt such a tremendous belief in her in that moment.

I think that most people have heard on the news, or read in the tabloids, that Demi is an addict.

So am I.

Although addicted to different things, I often feel that addicts have the ability to really get each other...

To really be able to fully root for the rise of each other.

Demi almost died from her addiction.

In fact, she had been clean and sober for six YEARS when she overdosed on drugs.

She was doing the right things.

She was fighting like a warrior, and she fell down.

In the deep end of addiction.

I think I love her more now.

After she fell into the deep end.

See, the international press could care less about me and my addiction.

There aren't cameras in my face and journalists calling to get the first interviews after recovery.

I don't have people around me who are eager to earn a buck by selling my story!

This girl didn't just relapse into her addiction.

She didn't just almost die from that relapse.

She did so in front of the world.

And then...

And then she stood back up.

She continued on with her recovery.

She discontinued association with people who were not good for her.

And, she did so in front of the world.

I can't imagine how hard...

How scary...

How humiliating...

How horrendous that must have been for her...

And she did it.

She rose up again.

The way each of us can.

We rise up.

All of us do.

Or at least, we can.

Root for each other's rise.

Even if you don't agree with, or understand their addiction--

Root for their rise.

Do it from a distance, if you must.

But root.

Loudly.

Demi,

You rose up.

I see you. 

I hear you.

I will continue to root for your rise.