Their Safe World

My children have been through so much in the past 3 years.
Often times, I've wished I could erase the pain and confusion they've felt as they've witnessed us navigating through divorce and co-parenting.

My youngest has been especially impacted by all of this. He has grown fearful of many things and often begs to just stay home with me instead of attending school. He holds his blankey tight and would suck his finger all day long if he could.

I know my son has ADHD. I know this. I have it and I see it in him. His therapist has mentioned it on many occasions.
And up until this point, I didn't think anything needed to be done about it. He's doing fine in school and I know how to parent him at home.

But the past few weeks, things have been getting worse. He gets kicked out of his dance classes almost every session. He has daytime accidents and cannot seem to remember many of the things I say to him.

Tonight I was at the end of my rope with him. I love him so dearly but it was an exhaustively frustrating day. I called Peter on our way home and told him I'm going through with the psychiatric evaluation to get our son the help he needs and he got angry and told me he doesn't want to medicate our son.

And a part of me gets that. A part of me thinks he's too young or that maybe I'm overreacting. But he gets in trouble all the time these days and he is starting to fight back and become more aggressive toward me when I discipline him.

Peter told me the solution is that I need to discipline more...

Can someone remind me why I even called for his advice? I should've known it was going to be asinine.  

I kept arguing and telling him that I discipline and he said, "No. You need to put the fear of God in that kid."
And my heart broke knowing that my son is parented that way at his dad's house.

I'm just not willing to parent that way. I don't want my children to be afraid of coming to me. I don't want them to grow up not trusting me with their hearts.

So tonight, I just sat and cried as I worry about the life my son will have, where he will have to struggle to pay attention or have friends because of the way his brain works.
I'm sad that this is a part of myself that I passed on to my son and now he will have to deal with his own set of challenges that come along with having ADHD.

I don't know how to help him right now or what I can do to protect him from feeling like a failure.
I'm not willing to give up on my little bubba just because his brain cannot physically connect to what I'm saying every time I tell him something.

I don't want him to grow up feeling like an outcast. My heart aches even considering that a possibility. I want him to be loved and accepted and understood.

I hate feeling lost as a mother. I hate feeling helpless and fearful about my children's futures.

I want the best for them. I want them to live in a safe world.

But they don't live in a safe world, do they?

Eating Disorder Reality Check: Part II

We filled today up with family time.
I think that's why I've been feeling a little lighter load than the other days this past week.
Even though I'm still not listening to my recovery voice and I'm still fighting the urge to break down, I opened up to my best friend because I needed a reality check.

And she gave it to me.

And I didn't much like it.

Because instead of telling me that it is wrong for me to feel the way I feel, she validated my feelings. And that should be a GOOD thing---we all love feeling validated, right? But in her validation, she told me that there are many men who go for the skinny girls, the perfect bodies, the impeccably distributed curves.

And then she asked me if I really wanted one of those guys...

...and although I gave her an answer (No...), I'm still struggling to believe my own answer.

What do I really want? 

Perfection? Is that what I want in a man?
No.
I want someone who is caring and HONEST and loyal and funny and outgoing.
But really, I'd settle for someone who is honest and who loves me.
Seriously.

But knowing what I want hasn't made this any easier. Because I'm starting to think that what I want doesn't exist.

I'm starting to think that recovery, or whatever you want to call the past year and a half, was a waste of my time because even the best of the best guys want skinny girls.

*****

This past year, I still turned to addiction. I was addicted to food. Much like the trauma from Peter leaving me, my immediate reaction was to turn to food and tell myself I didn't give a damn what people thought or said. And much like my pattern from back then, it was only a matter of time before I found myself overweight and feeling worthless. And it is when this break happens that I switch gears and give in to the purging.

I remember a friend telling me once that she didn't enjoy throwing up (Does anyone, really?). But the thing is, when she said this, I was smack-dab in the middle of my eating disorder hell and I remember thinking, "I may not like this but I like the way I feel right after. I like the control." I felt strong. I felt incredibly invincible.

When I woke up the other day and realized that this is a pattern, I was angry. And sad. And extremely frustrated. I want to beat my own statistics.

But I can also tell you on the flip side that I already feel a sense of control that feels highly addictive. I feel like I am working toward a goal to better myself.

I don't know, you guys. I really just don't know.

Some days, I try to fight my eating disorder and other days, I don't believe it is worth the fight.

And that's frustrating for me because every time I relapse or gain weight or believe unworthy thoughts, I start feeling like maybe this fight will never be over.

Like ever.

And I really hate that thought.

Eating Disorder Reality Check

Four relapses in one week. It's been a while since I've even considered this being a huge deal. In fact, most of the past year and a half, my struggle has been with loving myself and not so much about restricting/purging.

I don't know how much weight I've gained because instead of smashing my scale this time, my children accidentally broke it. And I feel like someone should give me a high-five for not even getting upset at them. In fact, I took it as a sign. "Wendy, you don't need a scale to tell your self-worth."

Ed tells me there's no one I'm hurting if no one knows. Or at least that there's no one I'm hurting if no one knows how bad it gets. So if it does get bad, just don't tell anyone, right? Don't reach out. Because if you reach out, they will tell you to stop.

And you don't want them to be disappointed.

Ed tells me that when they see my weight loss mixed with my beaming smile and awesome hair, they'll congratulate me and think of me as strong and capable, rather than weak and incapable.

Ed tells me that the reason my friend who's been single for less than 6 months has a boyfriend is because she is beautiful and skinny. And that the reason I have been single for almost 3 years and haven't had a boyfriend in that time is because I'm the opposite of beautiful and skinny.

That last paragraph might be my main trigger this week.

In fact, I know it is. Because I don't believe the lies about this not hurting other people. But I can't help but believe that the reason she is dating while I'm not is because she is skinny and I'm not. I honestly don't think there's anything anyone could say to convince me otherwise. The truth is right in front of me.

Ed tells me that people will take me more seriously as a dance teacher if I'm skinny, that my career will be much more gratifying and fulfilled if I lose weight and become as skinny as the ballerinas you'd see at the professional ballet.

And I don't think Ed is lying about all of the things I'm being told. I don't.
I'm still struggling because I know what a lot of the world's views of right/wrong with eating disorders are. I know it isn't considered healthy to purge meals or restrict eating.
But I don't quite know what to believe when I feel bombarded with a society telling me that my worth is equated to my size.

When I look in the mirror, I don't love what I see. I love my hair and my eyes but I don't love my body as a whole.

Will I ever love my body as a whole?

And I don't have an eating disorder support system. I don't have people who fully understand what I'm feeling or why I'd want to choose my eating disorder.

And I guess that's ok---I didn't have that for the first 26 years of my life so I don't think it's something I necessarily need to have now but it's still hard when you've experienced that support for a while and then it's gone.

Because now I'm left with my family support---which is just one big effing joke since nobody in my family takes eating disorders very seriously---and my friends---which is semi-ok because they try to understand and at least make an effort to support my struggle.

But Ed never left me. In fact, Ed has been one of the most consistent companions I've had. And I look back to the times where I was going to the gym a few hours a day and obsessing over my intake in food and I think I'd be happier being her and looking like that girl I used to see in the mirror.

Because if I'm supposed to create my own happiness, I think weight loss is a huge part of that.

I remember being happy with the path I was headed down before. I went into recovery for other people, not for myself. And if I had continued to listen to Ed, maybe I'd be dating or married or at least a lot prettier than I am right now.

Those Moments

I witnessed a car accident last week.

It was one of those heart-wrenching moments where I could tell the car in front of me hadn't seen the light turn red because she wasn't slowing down at all.
At all.
It happened slower than I'd imagine witnessing a car accident would. I scanned each car that had a green light, praying they would somehow see her careening into the intersection and stop their cars. Some of them did but one of them didn't. He hit her and her car ran into a pole.
All of the kids in my car peered out with wide eyes, worried about the situation we had just watched unfold. And when the girl got out of her car, we all breathed a sigh of relief.

Haven't we all experienced these types of moments in our lives? Moments where we can look from the outside and hold our breath as another person makes a decision that we believe will alter their life from that day on?

I've been there. More than once, I've been there.

But that's the messy and incredible part about life---that we can't choose for others. That we can watch someone lashing out at others---or at us---and wish we could shine light on the situation that would prevent them from doing something they may later regret. That we can watch someone running straight into a relationship or situation that we know isn't healthy for them.

And we cannot do a damn thing about it.

Life is messy like that. It'd be so nice if we had someone there to stop us from doing a lot of the stupid things we do. But God gave us free agency for a reason.

My Bravery

I've used this picture a few times.

It's one of my favorites.

This week is significant for so many reasons.

A year ago today, I attended a conference with many people whom I believed to be my safest group of friends. And it turns out, they were the opposite of that.

And despite that, I never gave up. Not once. And I'm never going to give up.

The thing about really hard moments in your life is that they can make or break you---in my case, both of these things happened.

I am more of who I am supposed to be because of everything I've learned this past year.

And I can sit here today and tell you that I love who I am.
This week might be a hard one but it also comes with a lot of reminders that I chose life and bravery over death and fear. I chose to keep living.
And that is huge.

I am so proud of myself, of everything I've experienced and the person that it has molded me into.

I am a brave warrior. And I will never give up.

Unbreakable

 Once upon a time, I thought I was unbreakable.

And then my husband left me.
And my children struggled.
And a lot of my friends decided to hate me.
And some of my friends betrayed me.
And I struggled with my faith.
And my eating disorder almost killed me.

And I broke. 

I thought I was unbreakable---and I broke. 
Not once. Not twice. But multiple times, I broke. 

And I remember as each of these things happened that I would look toward Heaven and wonder WHY?
I would get so angry.
I would cry.
I would reach out.
I would hide out.
I would experience deep feelings of anxiety.
And some of the times, I wanted to die.


And then time would pass and people who truly loved me would remind me why they stay and God would comfort me.

And somehow, the thing that I thought I would never heal from would start to heal. The wounds would scab over. The sun would peek out of the clouds. The flowers would start to bloom again.

It was in these moments that I was reminded time and time again that I am not unbreakable.
I am not. 
But when I break, I don't break forever.

Today I am relishing in this truth---that I am a survivor. I did not give up, even when I wanted to so many times.

I did not give up. 

I have spent countless hours of crying and wondering and doubting and although this sounds awful, it isn't always awful. Because those hours of crying and wondering and doubting are what made me who I am today.

A much stronger, more resilient, more compassionate Wendy. 

And I've learned that the people who blame me or hate me or try to break me---they don't know me. And that thought used to frustrate me. I used to get upset thinking I'd given up a portion of my life to people in my life whom I truly loved but who didn't love me back and I hated that they never took the time to truly know me.
But I no longer feel that way.
It no longer makes me angry.

It makes me sad---for them.

Because I know who I am. I know how incredible I am. I know what is inside of my heart. And anybody willing to try and break that is missing out.

My life is beautiful not because it's perfect and not because the sun is always shining. My life is beautiful because I choose to see it that way.

I choose to bask in the brightness that is my children and being a dance teacher and being a child of God and a Christian. I choose to remember the good and learn from the bad.

I might be breakable---but I am also capable of healing. 

And that is what truly counts. 

It’s a weird feeling for me to not be blogging regularly, either here or on my family blog or even just writing in a journal.

Lately, I haven’t been doing any of those things. I haven’t been writing anything down anywhere. And for my brain, that means I’m not going to remember a lot of it.

I’m not going to remember the feelings I felt and the things that impacted me in those little moments.

I want to be better. I’m trying to be better. But between school, 2 jobs, and 2 kids, I’ve been struggling to find time for myself, to do the things I love to do.

And maybe beyond that, sometimes it’s just painful to write when I feel so lost right now. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that I’m lost.

Because if I don’t write and I don’t think about it, I can just continue to live my life without those interior worries and fears consuming me.

I’ve been super anxious about the black lives vs police lives vs ALL lives arguments that I’m seeing all over social media.

I truly believe that God gave me a gift to understand heartache in many different forms and as I read the arguments being made for all of the different sides, my heart literally hurts from the pain that so many people are feeling.

So many people are hurting---not just one group vs another group.

And the problem is that when we argue against each other, we are minimizing each other’s pain.

When we’re stressed out, we tend to personalize other’s behavior. “They did this to us.” 

I've been on both sides of that.

I've been blamed for things I did not do.

And I have blamed others for things they did not do.

It's an ugly process and one that is hard to forgive.
Because if you KNOW me, you wouldn't BLAME me---right?

Wrong.

I think when we know each other, we know more flaws. And I think that's why it is so painful to be betrayed by someone we are close to. Because they know things about us that can really hurt.

I'm a mess of anxiety today. But I'm trying not to let that close me off from my relationships.