Attitude Makeover - HFC Day 17

Think about what you feel pessimistic about, frustrated about or are struggling with, either now or at some point in the past. What were/are those issues? What stops/stopped you from making changes? What do you need/ did you need to confront those issues? Can you make plans to take steps to change? If you have done this, were you able to make changes? What challenges can you set yourself for the future? (Remember to make them realistic and achievable!)

Okay so this is kind of interesting.  I spend so many of my days and moments trying not to be pessimistic and to put a hopeful spin on every one of my experiences.  Truth is that I can throw the meanest pity party on the block.  My default is self pity and it leads me into depressive episodes and sideways anger.  My self pity used to keep me from even trying to recover from ED.  I was so stuck to my pity pot that I really believed that no one even cared if I got healthy.  I can see the faulty thinking there and the disease twisting my truths, so today I stay on the lookout for that voice in me.  I’m not perfect at it though and my entire recovery has been filled with frustration and pessimism over a severe neck injury I suffered in my third month of sober abstinence. 

I herniated a disc in my neck while I was showing off diving for some young kiddos at a community pool.  My husband was with me and we had been dating for only about a week.  Six months later the doctors decided surgery was necessary and performed a spinal fusion.  A year later, I was closing in on my wedding day and my pain remained so severe that I feared I wouldn’t be able to enjoy our celebration.  Three years since the injury and I am still in pain.  I did get some good news just last week that the fusion is complete but received the bad news that arthritis is developing at the injury site. 

Now, this whole thing has really sucked in so many ways.  I have lost a lot of my strength and muscle since my injury and building it back up now is super slow going.  I don’t have the same body shape at all anymore.  I have always been pretty ‘gymnast shaped’.  I never had hips or big boobs.  That’s changed.  I do have hips and I have bigger boobs.  I have had to accept a whole new body.  Man, it was hard enough accepting it the first time!!!   I’ve been angry at myself and at people that just don’t understand.  I’ve been jealous of people that get to workout as hard as they want to and feel that good ache in their muscles from a job well done.  I have yelled at my husband for being attracted to me when I’m in super exhausted from fighting the constant hurting.  I have cursed God for giving me recovery just to give me a serious injury. 

All this is self pity.  What is more is that it is self pity that to me seems justified.  It seems logical and normal to feel down about something like this.  It feels like I should have permission to feel sorry for myself, and the truth is I don’t have much control over what thoughts and emotions hit me at what time but I do need to look for positive outlets for them.  I know from my history that I can’t afford to get sucked into the morose thinking and a defeatist attitude for too long.  So, I have made a commitment to share my frustrations with other people and to find a positive in everything.  Sometimes this can be challenging but for the most part it isn’t so difficult.  Without my injury I would not have had to look so deep within; I would not have had to ask for so much help; I would not have had to pray so often; I would not have had to sit still and just be.  In these ways my injury has given me the quality of recovery I have today.  I have to remember that I don’t know what the big plan is for me and that even the seemingly terrible can bring beautiful gifts.    

Crimes against Clients - HFC Day 14

Share your experiences about a professional or professionals (doctor, therapist, nurse etc.) that had a negative impact on your recovery. How did they make you feel? Did you speak with them about this? How did they respond? How did they impact you? How did you recover from that experience? How did you learn to seek help and trust professionals again?

This is a shaky one for me.  In my letter to medical professionals (Day 6) I expressed my frustration with my treatment over the years but also my gratitude for all the men and women who have treated me.  I believe that all my experiences, good and bad, have made me the recovery woman I am today.  I know that everyone I come in contact with is a teacher – some of what to do, some of what NOT to do.  Either way, I can learn from everyone.  Back in the throws of bulimia, I didn’t see it that way.  When a professional (aka role model) showed disease behavior, I took away bad habits and negative massages and fit them right onto me.  A lot of times I knew I was self-sabotaging and wanted to bring the pain.  Other times I was competitive or seeking attention.   Occasionally, that “I’ll show you how sick I am” mentality drove me.  In the most dangerous times, I just had no fight left and I was giving up. 

So, you may be wondering what made some folks such bad examples.  My perception may be off and my disease certainly filtered things said and done differently back then, but the number one reason I decided a professional was not worth my effort to recover was inconsistency.  If the message of the professional was inconsistent with their behavior, I was done.  The most obvious example I have is one therapist who owned a day treatment center and was my primary therapist.  This was an eight hour a day, five day a week deal, and I was a patient there for over two years.  I saw so much of this therapist that I could tell you what she would say next, if she was in a good or bad mood, and how she was doing with her food.  She was a recovery anorexic, or maybe just an anorexic.  Here was the inconsistency.  She spent all day, every day, telling us to embrace our bodies, sharing professional opinions, encouraging us to eat balanced and nourish ourselves while she did none of it herself. 

If I could go back now, I would ask her why she only ate 150 calories for lunch every day and how that made any sense to eat during our sessions.  I would show her that my meal of 500 calories, made no sense next to hers.  I would ask her why she got plastic surgery and showed off her cleavage at work while telling us we were perfect just as we were.  I would challenge her to explain her significant weight loss after her husband left against her claim that we did not have to use food to cope with any and all circumstances.  I would call to her attention that we were all competing with HER!  I would share my anger and confusion towards her and her behavior.  I would explain my pain in all its depth and tell her I wanted to be free.  I would walk away from two years of a dead end pursuit and look for help and hope in someone who had recovery.

I spent years being angry at this therapist.  I felt that I had lost so much time being sick because of her.  I don’t feel that way anymore.  I learned a lot from that experience.  Today, I interview my doctors and therapists.  They are working for me after all.  If I don’t find hope in their story, sense in their methods, or most important to me consistency in their words and actions, I find a new professional.  This has served me well and I am my own mental health advocate.  I tell a doctor or therapist when something doesn’t seem right or when I’m just not feeling comfortable with my progress.  I have learned what I don’t want in my treatment, so now I’m finding what I do.  

I read the news today

I was prompted to write while perusing news articles today.  Man oh man is it depressing to read the headlines alone!  I have asked why news has to be so violent, traumatic and tragic as a blanket question my entire life.  I’m not exaggerating. I think I’ve wondered this my entire life, or at least as long as I have had a high enough level of cognizance to wonder it.  I used to ask my mom to turn off the news or just not to watch it at all, because I couldn’t handle hearing all the chaos being reported.  I’ve always compartmentalized ideas, events, actions, people, and just about everything else. I couldn’t fit ‘the news’ in any of my acceptable spaces so it went into the unacceptable and intolerable bins. Yes, I lived a charmed and somewhat sheltered childhood.  My rather naive brain could not have possibly made sense of it all in my accustomed way - which was to make sense of it all.  This is probably pretty normal but what is a little odd is that I still do the same thing today as a 32 year old woman! 

I suppose I’ve gotten more comfortable with some of it. The major headlines that include just an overview idea don’t completely revolt me or send horrible visuals and/or real fear through me.  I certainly can decide whether or not to watch longer or read on based on those headlines.  If I decide to read an article and it immediately exploits someone, delves into unnecessarily horrific details, or contains a tone that is unsettling, I stop reading.  The problem comes when someone else, most often my husband, has chosen to watch something that I don’t like.  I can hear the crap through closed door and the shows I recognize, I can’t even stand all the dramatic music and I get pretty moody and bossy about what can and can’t be played in our home when I’m home. 

Again, I feel like I was born with this hyper sensitivity to violent or vulgar media, and as you can imagine it has really caused some frustration and embarrassment in the more recent years.  I used to put myself to sleep in a theatre if a movie was overwhelming to me.  Falling asleep anywhere on my own volition was a skill that served me well for years. I can’t do it as easily anymore but that might have to do with the absence of copious amounts of psychotropic drugs in my system.  From about 18 – 28, I was pretty much sleepy and lethargic all the time so given the opportunity to check out, I chose sleep quite often.  I think I also take after my dad; he fell asleep in the theatre (the real theatre) during The Phantom of the Opera which is like the loudest (in a good way) production ever!  Honestly, it was just so much easier, and I still think nicer, than cutting the movie short for me and whoever I’d gone to the theatre with.  So now that I don’t have such an easy switch to sleep capability, I don’t have another solution – yet.

I’ve tried a few things to no avail.  I’ve tried to close myself in the bedroom and play music while I read.  This usually ends in my temper flaring up because now I’ve cut myself off from socializing and from the kitchen J.  So that’s out.  I’ve tried to actually watch the shows.  Total disaster has ensued every time.  I have zero ability to control my extreme and emotional reaction to these shows – yet.  I’ve prayed and prayed for acceptance of both my limitations and other peoples’ tastes that I can leave if I’m bother WITHOUT acting the victim.  I need to pray more cause this hasn’t worked.  I’ve tried mandating that only the shows I approve of be played when I’m home.  This is actually where we’re at now because it’s kept the peace.  So far my husband has proved much more flexible than I, and yet I still react when suggestions for ‘the other’ shows are made.  Oh well, here’s room for growth.  Maybe some therapy is in order.  Maybe more creative outlets are options for me.  I don’t know what but more will be revealed.

The Dream

I’ve learned that when I tell someone that I’m going to do something, I’m about ninety times more likely to do it than if I keep my intentions to myself.  I’ve had a dream for a long time to become a public speaker.  This dream has never taken shape because I have not made any concrete goals or made consistent efforts towards transforming this dream to reality.  I did enough research to know that blogging and writing is a great first step, but that’s about all I’ve done.  I believe I can be an excellent motivational speaker.  I believe I have the ability to stand up in front of a group, capture an audience, and ultimately inspire hope.  I believe there’s a path for me to follow to get to that end, but I don’t know where to start or how I will find my way.  That said, if I don’t start, well, I’ll never start.  If I never start, I’ll never find a way. 

I’ve fallen off my blog a bit because I couldn’t see a simple way to improve it and to expand its reach.  I have a nasty tendency to believe my perpetually lazy ego that tells me people should want to listen to me and value what I say without my having to show them I’m worth listening to.  Of course, I come to my senses after a bit and realize all I’ve gained is fear and what I’ve lost is time.  Good news is I trust that if I put one foot in front of the other and work steady and true, the time will come for me to realize my dream.  And if I don’t reach the stage or get the audience, I hope it will be because it was not God’s will for me, not because I did not put the work in.  “Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.” –Theodore Roosevelt.  This is worth it.  I still don’t know how to lengthen my reach, but I do know that working hard is the only way I’ll find out. 

Soooo, I’d like to increase my ‘do’ likelihood by 90 times and commit to a few consistent tasks and three goals over the next 1 month.  Here they are:

1.  I will blog 4 times per week no matter the typos or the length of blog.  I will post 4 separate entries a week.
2.  I will spend 1 hour, 4 times per week, researching how to bring more visibility and ‘hits’ to my blog and adjust my blog accordingly.
3. I will respond individually to comments on my blog posts
4. By month’s end, I will be following and participating on 15 other blog sites
5. By month’s end, I will have my blog site reformatted to be more interactive, inviting and intuitive  

Thanks for reading!  

So good, so simple, so difficult!!

I can guess that everyone I have ever met can relate to not wanting to do something, even when they know that doing it wouldn't take much effort at all and it would quickly improve their life.  All gain and we don’t want to do it!  Seems nutty but then I think this must be a part of the human condition, because I’ve never met anyone that welcomes all healthy, positive, fun or good opportunities right away.  There’s some element of reluctance in all of us on certain things.  Exercise is a perfect example of my point.  Over the years I have heard countless people say countless times, “I know it would be really good for me but it’s just too hard to get started,” and go on to say “I know I’ll have more energy and more motivation to do things but I just don’t have enough time,” and go on to say “I know I’ll be so much more productive so I probably will have more time once I start, but I just can’t seem to get started,” and go on and on and on.  I’ve said all these things myself without any intention of actually exercising!  It's crazy really but everyone does it. 

I have a couple theories on why we have this strange unwillingness to do the ‘win wins’.  One I wrote about last week.  Fear of change.  Self centered fear that facilities us metaphorically shooting ourselves in the foot over and over and over again.  Fears like: I might not be able to follow through; it might be uncomfortable to change my routine; it might keep me from handling all the things I usually do in the same manner I usually handle them; I might not like it; people might look at me differently; etc.  The logical error is easy to identify.  Admit it.  These fears are ridiculous in light of the benefits we receive in overcoming them.  Don’t want to hang out with friends tonight because you’re too depressed and people won’t want to be around you?  Get over yourself.  They don’t care how you come.  They probably don’t even care if you come.  You will care.  Overcome the fear that you won’t enjoy yourself and that you will regret time missed reflecting on all the horrible crap in your life and the one that says you’ll feel stupid and uncomfortable the whole time because you won’t be able to entertain or relate to everyone like usual.  Just get off your butt and go!!!  Seriously, there’s nothing to lose but a few hours of self imposed misery.

And that brings me to my second theory on this issue.  People are lazy and we just don’t wanna.  Pure and simple.  I’m not an exception to this at all.  When I’m in a lazy zone, it doesn’t matter how little the effort; if it takes effort, I’m out.  It’s sad but true.  Imagine if when considering whether to do or not do, I counted to three and went on go.  I would get to reap so many benefits that I’d simply let pass me by otherwise.  Now, I realize the lazy factor is something that is hard to really find one real fix for but try everything and then try everything again.  Maybe not one, two, three, go but something!  What works for me at one time will not at others and vice versa.  Here are some of my efforts:

1.    When mornings are rough, I give myself a few minutes to stay in bed from the time I last looked at the clock.  I pick an exact time that I must be up by and as that time nears, I begin my own countdown.  It’s weird but as competitive as I am, I am almost always up before the clock reads the time I first chose.

2.    When I don’t want to exercise at all, I come up with the smallest amount of time I can possibly allow for a workout while still believing I will benefit.  I did some yoga this morning but really needed to try some cardio even with my aches and pains.  I ran for 2 minutes.  Yes 2.  I walked for 8 minutes afterward.  It’s a start!

3.    When I don’t want to go somewhere, I try to judge what an acceptable attendance time is for the event.  I usually decide that all I have to do is show up and I’ll be able to leave whenever I want to.  If it’s a family deal or an event in honor of something, I usually set an obligatory hour for myself.  That’s a really short time frame and I outstay my allotted hour nearly every time.  I get there and voila I have a social experience!

4.    When I don’t want to go to work, eesh every work day (I’m kidding!  It’s not that bad!), I use a laundry list of tricks.  One is to just to get there by blocking out all the thoughts projecting how the day will go until I actually arrive at work.  Another is trying to place something on the other side of the work day or week that I really want to do.  It makes getting through the work day way more appealing and cathartic.  Tons of things come to mind but these two are keepers!

5.    When I don’t want to try something new, I consider what I have to lose by trying it.  Usually the answer is either nothing or a couple moments of my time.  It seems silly to give up an opportunity that I might really enjoy when all I’m looking at sacrificing is not much of anything.

You feeling motivated yet?  

So little talk of food

I tend to talk a lot more about my experience as a recovering alcoholic than I do about my experience as a recovering bulimic.  It’s certainly not less of a focus in my recovery nor is it something like my secondary illness.  In fact, I would not be able to judge which disease brought more consequences.  My preference when talking about recovery in terms of my alcoholism is really for simplicity’s sake.   I don’t take a drink and treat my mind and spirit… period.  There’s no option to where I just don’t eat, so it requires a bit more detail and most people aren’t interested.  Fortunately for me, I have found a pretty simple recipe to keep free of my active eating disorder.  It’s not perfect and it has changed many times over the past few years, but it does work.  So here’s a little peek at my abstinence (abstinence is what many in food recovery call refraining from disease behavior or compulsive eating):

First, I just had to stop throwing up.  That was the most obvious thing I had to change.  After about two weeks without vomiting, I still felt terrible physically.  I knew a lot of my discomfort was because of my nighttime eating.  So, I added a blackout time of 10pm – 6am during which I could not eat any meals or snacks.  I was amazed at how difficult it was for me to sleep for the next few weeks!  I was so used to munching while watching television in bed well into the night that it was rough to go without.  I got through my first night and then used the strength of having gotten through the night before to get through subsequent nights.  I also used my phone to make SOS calls when I couldn’t do it alone.  These two changes, no purging and no night eating, dramatically changed my relationship with food and gave me a ton of hope and relief.  I have purged only a handful of times in four years and have loosened the blackout time on occasion (usually realizing within a short number of days that I need to tighten it up again).  I have addressed many other ‘problem areas’ over the years as well.  When I’m having trouble with grazing or restricting and need to place clear starts and ends to meal times, I set time windows for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks.  I have used tracker tools, which I currently do and have done for over a year now, where I log my day’s food intake in order to keep aware of both what I’m eating and what my body is asking for.  I have turned on red lights for some foods and yellow lights for others.  Red light foods are foods I don’t allow myself to eat.  Yellows are foods I check in with myself and how I’m relating to food before I eat them.  The easiest way for me to decide whether a yellow light food should be eaten or not is by asking myself, “Can I eat this food like a lady?”  If I think that I may eat 10 portions instead of one, the answer is no and I don’t eat it.  If I think it will pretty much guarantee that I cry and yell at the mirror the next time I’m in front of it, the answer is no and I don’t eat it.  If I feel hungry and I have no desperate messages arriving in my head, I can enjoy that food.  A food is really only red lighted if it causes me increased consequences on a consistent basis.   For the most part, I interchange all these tools, except for the no purging and no night eating which are constant, depending on how they are impacting my recovery and my life.   

There is a risk in having an abstinence that allows for so much flexibility and that exists within my own mind.  Being that I’m the one making adjustments and deciding what defines my abstinence at any given time, I may get caught in my disease thought process and feed my addiction rather than my recovery.  I don’t spend a whole lot of time worrying about this though because I’ve found that consequences present themselves quickly when I’m feeding my disease.  These consequences are usually in the form of tears over how I look, what I don’t have to make me look better, anger that I’m not the weight I was at X time, distorted body image where I’m suddenly obese, or just plain old emotional sensitivity to all things normal and I decide that nobody really cares about me or likes me much at all. 

After all the meal planning tools and an abstinence that works in my daily life, what I’m left with is the treatment of my mind and spirit.  Simple as that.  The same as any other addiction recovery.  I get slightly uncomfortable if another recovering addict approaches me with awe and says I’ve overcome a lot, indicating that I have had more to overcome than they have.  I believe to my core that I’ve had to do exactly the same thing they have.  I had to stop my active disease behavior, and then the real work started.  I had to seek relief for my mind and spirit.  Once we are able to first put down the insert drug of choice here and others here, we can all then take our journeys towards sanity, an enriched life and a full heart. 

I’m going to be the next…

When I was a little over 4 years old, Mary Lou Retton won the 1984 All-Around Olympic gold medal in gymnastics.  I don’t remember actually watching her win on live TV or anything, but for the next 7 years I relived her moment of glory over and over and over again.  I watched our home taped VHS of that meet hundreds of times.  My sister and I still repeat what the announcers were saying throughout.  Two of our favorite lines, “She runs like Carl Lewis and smiles like Brooke Shields.” and “Mary Lou, how do you do?!”.  We knew her routines.  We knew the other competitors routines.  We knew the back stories. We knew what her coach said and how he lifted her up in celebration.  We were her biggest fans and probably still are.

I used to draw pictures of myself on the victory podium with my 1996 Olympic gold medal.  I would draw the world and a crowd of people and write talk bubbles like “the next Mary Lou”, “world peace”, “dream” and “believe”.  I wanted to inspire the world the way Mary Lou inspired me.  When my gymnastics career ended, my dreams did not.  My sister and I started a collection between ourselves that would one day fund our own gymnastics facility.  We put a quarter a day into the jar.  We talked about what we would have and what kind of coaches we would be.  We saved a good amount for about two years, but eventually stopped the effort.  We still watch gymnastics on TV whenever it’s aired and hope for another Mary Lou Retton, Nadia Comaneci, or Kim Zmeskal. 

While this all might sound silly and childish, I believe that it’s shaped me into who I am today.  I still dream big.  It doesn’t matter what I’m striving for, I look beyond that and believe that more is possible if I want it.  Sometimes I even feel like I’m as good as Carl Lewis and as dynamite as Mary Lou Retton.  I know that passions shared are more inspiring and more fun.  When I love something today, I find someone else who loves it too.  I talk about it with them.  Cheer about it.  Follow it.  I am a coach today and I fight to get the athletes good facilities and the best training possible.  I’m tough and enthusiastic.  I have a passion for diving even more than gymnastics (if you can imagine that) and I let it show.  When I see a kid pop out of the water with their face lit up and brimming with new confidence because they just ‘got it’, I ask them how they feel.  Usually they giggle and say “good”.  What a thrill! 

I thought I was going to be the next Mary Lou Retton but now I’m just the best me.  I don’t know about you but I’m going to keep dreaming and keep believing.  World peace?  Sure, it will happen. J

Things Awful/Things Awesome

Having just begun this blogging adventure, I’m mentally filing events that might be blog-worthy.  Not having written in a week, I had quite a few blog-worthy bits in the queue.   Upon review, many of my week’s thoughts and experiences caught me with unusual amusement.  Apparently, I really don’t like a lot of things and I have a strong opinion about most everything.  Even the stuff that doesn’t harbor a strong reaction from me has a designation of acceptable/unacceptable, tasteful/insulting, and the like.  I’ll call the items with a positive designation green (green for go/good) and those with a negative designation red (red for stop/bad).  Having a good day used to be dependent on how few reds I encountered.  If too many then forget it- horrible day.  That’s not generally true anymore and while I still have pretty intense reactions to things, my resulting emotion and behavior tends to look more like mood swings than melt downs.  I think I’ll just share some of the highlights from the past week, both red and green.  Here we go…

Reds (in no particular order)

1.  Drivers that stare you down after you make a mistake.  You didn’t think my horror struck face and squealing tires were awareness enough?  Plus now I’m just pissed off at you and your lack of attention to the road!

2.  Cashiers that assume everyone in line is there to make them a social visit.  We’re not.  We want to get to where we want to get ASAP and we want you to do your job well so as not to delay us.

3.  TV shows that cast every character as a complete idiot.  Especially adult cartoons where every character sounds like Bevis, Butthead or Napolean Dynamite.   The voice alone is enough for me to decide they have low self-esteem, social disorders and unresolved childhood issues.  Oh and using the one guy to do all the voiceovers is a total distraction.

4.  Tappers.  My husband is a tapper.  Why!??!!! Why??!!!!!  I can hear that!!!!!!!!!

5.  The mirror that always looks back at you fat.  Who made those mirrors and why did they not just melt it and start over when they looked into it and knew that it was the worst representation of themselves they’d ever seen?!  I vote we all destroy such mirrors and in their spots leave pleading notes that ask the future replacement mirrors be either honest or can improve the truth (just a little).  For the sake of sanity, man!

Greens (also in no particular order)

1.  When you watch someone for just a minute that is completely unaware of being observed, even if they turn out doing something dumb or weird.  I love that outside, anonymous view.  Seems so pure.

2.  Getting the giggles.  No matter where I am or who’s seeing it happen, the giggles are always a good time.  I’ve been so embarrassed by the complete loss of control on many occasions but I’m always better for it.  Plus, it’s a total adrenaline rush and a giggle buddy boosts the fun! 

3.  When kids imitate their parents with that grown up tone and those grown up words but totally work it as their own.  Too funny.  My 2 ¾ year old niece wiggled herself into a seat before a snack this Sunday and asked me, “Should we pray?”  In that moment she was my sister.  Classic.

4.  Being cuddled.  No matter my mood, hugs are the best.  My mom’s are comforting, long and snug.  My husband’s are moving, swinging side to side and strong.  My sister’s are joyous, she hangs off to the side and laughs.  My brother’s are double winners, strong and soft all in one.  My dad’s are classic, always firm with a pat.  Love hugs.

5.  When you wake up thinking it’s Monday and then realize it’s Sunday and you have a whole 24 hours until you have to go to work again.  It feels like a huge time refund and it’s all for fun and relaxation.  At least for a few minutes.   That’s such a great feeling. 

I’m happy to report that while all the reds were a part of my last week, so were the greens.  It’s been a great week and this has been a fun exert.  I hope you enjoyed it too!  

I still get crazy sometimes

After over two and half years in recovery and over a decade of therapy, the smallest things can throw me back into my old thinking.  What a terrible feeling! 

Yesterday I had a total meltdown.  I was by myself during lunch from jury duty and began to panic about all the money I wasn’t making by serving.  I went to call my husband and found that my phone would not turn on.  That’s when I lost it.  Within seconds I was in tears and yelling that I hated my life.  All while driving recklessly to find a place to get my phone checked out.   I drove around the neighborhood for about fifteen minutes with no direction and then went through a drive thru hoping food would help me calm down.  I got ‘the look’ from the kid working the window when he saw the tears streaming down my face but he didn’t say anything.  I was too upset to eat once he handed me the food.  I threw it into the passenger’s seat and sped away with a new plan.  I drove to a friend’s house knowing that he was at work.  When he wasn’t home, I used that to continue ranting about the terrible luck I had and how awful my life was.  I ended up stopping to use a pay phone a few minutes later and getting a hold of my husband.   After about five minutes of talking to him, the panic and rage had passed and everything seemed completely manageable again.   He suggested I remove the battery from my phone for a couple minutes and then restarting it.  I had thought of that but quit on it when I couldn’t get the back open right away.  Of course, this time it was simple and it worked.  I was back on track and ready to continue my duty. 

That might sound like a painful process to get back to calm and clear-minded, but I did return to the courthouse and sit the rest of the day doing what I was supposed to be doing.  A considerable success for someone like me.  I wish I didn’t react like that to anything, but I know my journey in recovery is just beginning.   I’m really grateful that I don’t take it to the dark places I used to.  From the thought “I hate my life”, I find myself looking for support rather than a fix.  Pretty cool.   

Who am I?

I'm 32, recently married, no kids, work a simple 9-5 job plus a fun gig on the side and am generally viewed as fairly innocent and naive.  Before that I was twenty something, a relationship nightmare, terrified of kids, unemployed and generally viewed as someone to stay away from or take advantage of depending on what kind of person you were.  Before that I was a high school overachiever, had a big group of boy and girl friends, loved my family, worked hard in school and sports and was generally viewed as a driven, bright, talented and caring young lady.  Before that I was a grade schooler, self conscious, faith filled, worked hard to be 'perfect', and was generally viewed as a ‘goody goody’ and a bit of a preacher type.

I don't think any of those pictures of me are really true at all but I'd say the high schooler is probably the closest to who I actually was at the time.  Today, I'm certainly not innocent nor do I think I'm all that naive.  I enjoy freeing myself of drama and have a taste for the simplest of entertainment.  People usually assume I've always been this way.  Why wouldn’t they?  My truth is that I'm a recovering alcoholic, drug addict, cutter and bulimic.  I've lived with major depression for half my life, have received 21 ECTs (shock treatments), and am a suicide survivor.  On the flip side, I have a bachelor's degree from one of the best universities in the country, competed on the national level in both club and NCAA Div I athletics, am a successful coach, a talented office professional, and my family gives me more love than I would dare dream to receive. 

You might guess my view - that descriptions and titles of people aren't really worth a grain of salt.  There's always more to tell.  The truth will always be different based on who is deciding it.  So, as I begin this blog I will relate my truth for you to do with it what you will.  My hope is that my experience might lend support and hope to the reader and ultimately enforce one of my most used mantras “There's a chance for change if I just stay alive”.