Dear God

Dear God, 

Why? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do some people think this is all my fault and other people are telling me I'm being too hard on myself?

Why, when I try so hard to raise my children in righteousness and live a good life, would you allow this horrible pain and suffering to smack me right in the face?

Why can't everyone trust that I did my best?

I can't eat. I can barely sleep and when I do, I have nightmares. It is almost impossible to function and get out of bed each morning. The fear is ever present. The pain is debilitating. The anguish has made me want to die. 

I begged my mom to raise my kids last night. I begged her to let me go back to Heaven or hell or wherever I will go because anywhere feels like it'd be better than here. 

I don't trust life. I don't want to leave my house or try to be compassionate because it all ends up broken in the end. I end up losing people, ruining people, and getting hurt. 

I don't know if life is worth it. I have contemplated whether You are real because I don't understand how you would allow this to happen to me, the single mom who barely gets through each day already. 

I'm angry at you. I feel betrayed. I feel alone and scared and I doubt anyone would understand. I'm sick of being the strong girl who pushes through trials and wakes up with a smile on her face. What difference does it make? People aren't going to believe that I'm genuine. It doesn't matter anymore. 

You've given me too much. You've tried and tested me to my breaking point and I am done. I am so fucking done. You knew I wouldn't be able to do this so why did you let it happen? 

How am I supposed to get past this? I don't really know if I can. 

As I lay here next to the two precious children whose safety I now fear when they aren't by my side, I wonder and ache as I think about what the future holds. The anxiety is too much. The anger is too great. The heartache is too painful. 

Everyone says you don't make mistakes but how could this NOT be a mistake? And if it isn't, why would you let this happen? 

I don't understand. I'm so hurt and angry and overwhelmed. 

I keep praying that I'll wake up from this nightmare. This can't be reality. It just can't.

The Worst Day Of It All

Today was the worst day of it all.

Because although I haven't eaten in two days or gotten off the couch or changed my clothes, the ONE thing I wanted out of all this was for my kids to never be involved.

Today I found out they were involved.

Today feels like the darkest day of my entire life.

I hate myself today.
I hate everything today.

Except my kids.

I love my brave kids with all my heart.

Trauma Hurts

I need to write but I don't know if I have the words. I don't know how safe writing is. I don't know how safe I am. 

I don't know if I've ever pleaded with God to let me come back home to him like I have today. I just don't believe I'm strong enough for life. I just don't believe I am worthy of getting through the hard times. 

Everyone tells me that this is not my fault but it is. It has to be. 

The times where I've hurt people I love are the lowest times in my life. This is even lower than that. I don't think I'll heal. I don't think I can forgive myself. In fact, I truly hate myself today. I don't see how I could've ruined so many people in such a short amount of time. 

I am exhausted and I don't want people to worry about me. I deserve this pain. I did this. I wasn't responsible enough. 

They tell me not to punish myself. They tell me that prayer and support will help me to get through each day but I don't know. I yelled at God today. I yelled and screamed and cried and told Him this is NOT something I can handle. This is NOT something I want to burden the people I love with. I didn't feel Him. I was angry that this happened and that I did this and that I now have to work through another trauma. 

It seems like too much, like I am not strong enough to forget and love myself. I WAS ALREADY STRUGGLING TO LOVE MYSELF! And now this. Now I am cementing the idea in my mind that I am not worthy of life. I mess up everything. Every damn thing. 

People often tell you what you want to hear so you don't feel guilty and I know that. There's a voice in my head that tells me not to listen to their support. I'm back and forth. Sometimes I listen and other times the voice is too loud and I can't hear anything my supporters are saying. 

My eyes burn from crying. I don't know when I'll be able to get out of bed and face life again. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never. 

For now, the only thing I could think to do was to write down some of my friends' truths on my white board and try to believe them. I've lost all of my own truths and today my only hope is leaning on the truths of others. 

I know I am loved. I just don't know if I deserve that love. 

Goodbye, Old Life

Today my life is forever changed.

Today my life feels ruined. 

I don't know if I'll ever pick up the pieces from today. 

Gravity

Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long.

I don't think if there will be a time in my life that I'm not struggling with something, whether it be my eating disorder or my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I just don't. I feel like it'll never go away, like I'll never be strong enough to fight my battles. These battles are too big.

No matter what I say or do, I still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.

Don't eat that. Don't touch that. You might die. You'll gain weight. You shouldn't be sitting on the couch. You shouldn't be going on vacation with unknown germs. You're stupid. BE SMARTER!
I hear these words all day, every day. It's like the never ending story from hell.

You hold me without touch. You keep me without chains.

This perfectly describes addiction. I understand why it's hard for some people to believe addiction is real. Because it doesn't make sense. Not even a little bit of sense. How can I be trapped by something that isn't physically holding me? How have I allowed these things to control me so much in my life? Shouldn't it be easy just to walk away and yell, "YOU CAN'T FORCE ME TO DO THIS!" Because the reality is, no one is forcing me. No one has chained me to a wall. This is me. My addiction is me.

I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.

I used to scribble furiously in my journal how I loved my eating disorder and just wanted it NOT to kill me. Can't I just keep the comfort of my addiction WITHOUT the physical consequences?! I want to drown in it, be enveloped by it---because there has always been a part of me that believes that my eating disorder is what helps me and gives me worth.

Set me free. Leave me be. I don't wanna fall another moment into your gravity. Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be. 
But you're onto me and all over me. 

I can yell and plead and wish that this wasn't my life. I can tell myself I'm stronger than this. I can rely on the truths of the people who love me. I have been in recovery before. I have been in a place where I truly believed in myself.
But then something happens. Something always happens. Addiction comes back into my life. Obsessions seem to make me feel safer.
Germs become death. Food becomes weight gain. Everything starts to feel bad.
And all of a sudden, I find myself right back where I started.
It's so damn frustrating. It's frustrating to fight and work hard and then lose everything you have worked for.

You loved me 'cause I'm fragile when I thought that I was strong.
But you touched me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.

My eating disorder preys on my weaknesses. It knows exactly what to say to hurt me and make me doubt myself. It is one of the worst things I've ever dealt with because it knows me inside and out. And I believe it.
I believe the lies. I believe the shame. I believe I am not good enough. Yet.
Yet.
My eating disorder tells me that there is hope! That someday I will be good enough when I've lost all of the weight and made myself stronger by controlling everything. Everything. Every damn little thing.

I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you're everything I think I need here on the ground. 
You're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.

It's so confusing. I hate my eating disorder. I hate OCD. But I also love them both. I also feel safer here. I feel so much safer and so much more in control.
But I'm not. My eating disorder is not my friend and not my enemy. It feels like neither and it feels like both.

The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down.
You're keeping me down. 
You're onto me and all over.

There's a part of me that gets it, that understands the danger here. There is a part of me that can take a step back and recognize a lie as a lie. But it isn't the prominent part of me. It isn't enough of me.

Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long.

I feel so weighed down by addiction lately. Whether I'm acting on it or not, it is consuming my thoughts and affecting my life. I hate it. I hate the discord between my heart and my brain. I hate feeling worthless and stupid. I hate feeling like no one really truly loves me.

It isn't a fun place to be.

Hope{less}

If he wants to leave then let him leave.

The idea of this sounds so simple.

Let him leave.

But people don't always tell you about the aftermath. People don't always tell you how much it is going to hurt and how much you might lose yourself. They don't tell you that these times will feel so painfully lonely and that one minute to the next can drastically change. They don't tell you that you will see the beauty but you will also feel like you want to die.

I often wish my journey would just end already---not my journey on earth necessarily but this painful journey of divorce and eating disorder and trauma and exhaustion. I often hope that the light at the end of the tunnel is going to show up but it never does.

Especially today, it doesn't.

I feel weak. I feel stupid.

I was thinking about my eating disorder for hours on end at work today. It was consuming my thoughts and I was wondering why I'm more apt to say I relapsed if I purge but if I go days without eating, I don't treat that as a relapse.
Is it because I've always identified with bulimia the most?
Even further than that, I wonder if the relapse is actually the thought process---the things I choose to believe. Because if I choose to believe the lies, isn't that a relapse? Isn't ED all about the lies in my head?

So maybe I'm in the middle of another eating disorder struggle and maybe I'm not. I haven't navigated it that far yet. But my body feels the way it used to---struggling to stay awake, feeling jittery, and extremely impatient.

But I ate today. I really did. I ate breakfast and snacked at work and ate dinner. So I don't know why my stomach feels hollow tonight. I don't know why I've been fighting back tears for a good portion of the day. I don't know why I am so angry that this is my life.

I feel like I can't handle life---the kids, the school, the work schedule. It all seems like too much today. It all seems heavy and scary and I feel like I'm failing at everything.

I look in the mirror and I don't see a person I love. In fact, I see a person that I hate. I see rolls and fat and blemishes and stretch marks. I see a mother who doesn't have time to do homework with her daughter, a student who half-asses assignments just to get them done on time, and a friend who almost never has time for others anymore.

Tunnel vision.

I feel like I'm being held captive by tunnel vision tonight. I feel like all of the beauty is covered in dark clouds. I feel like everything I accomplish is tarnished by the millions of mistakes I make. I feel so unworthy of love. I feel so unworthy of relationships, whether they be family or friend relationships.

I have a messy house that was spotless four days ago and I haven't decided when I'll be able to pick it all up and continue on my psychotic organizing journey.

I have OCD that tells me NOT to touch door handles or bathrooms or counter tops and that if I do, I better bust out my hand sanitizer or we are all going to get sick.

Today I was thinking about how it'd be easier if I weren't here---how the people who depend on me wouldn't have to get their hopes crushed all of the time. I feel like I'm constantly screwing everything up.

I feel like I'm speeding through life but getting nowhere. Am I moving on a path? Am I working toward something? I want to say yes. I want to have goals and be productive and have positive relationships but I just don't have faith in myself tonight.

I'm trying to accept the fact that I'll probably be single forever because I don't have the time or energy to date. I can't even keep up with the relationships I have---adding in another one might kill me. And not getting married means I get to accept the fact that I'm not having any more kids. And not having any more kids means I get to accept the fact that my baby starts kindergarten this year and that life is passing me by faster than I'd like it to.

I can't do this tonight. I really hope that sleeping will bring some of my normal self back. If it doesn't, I might just go bat-shit crazy tomorrow.

Pushover

When I take breaks from writing here, it usually means I'm doing better. It usually means I don't have the need for my anonymous self to write freely and safely.
But partly it has just had to do with how busy I am with school and work and being a single mom.

I've been trying to work on my healing and I think I'm doing quite well---but I'm hesitating to let it all happen, to let go of the past and try to build the future. It's scary to let go because that pain I have is a mask. It is a shield that seems to protect me from my future pain. I already know what this pain feels like so I'd rather just continue feeling it instead of being hurt all over again.

I want to let go of the lies. I want to let them roll off my back. I should expect them by now but for some reason, I don't. For some damn reason, I still find myself wanting so badly to trust that the words coming out of Peter's mouth are truthful.

I think one of the things that pisses me off the most is that Peter used to always tell me I was a pushover when it came to other people. He always told me I forgave way too easily. His sister and I had a hard relationship because she was often jealous of us---I never understood why---so she would spread rumors about us to the rest of the family. Every time our family relationships would blow up in our face, I would fight and yell and write her letters of disappointment and a few days later, I would forgive and forget. I just wanted our families to be connected and I knew I couldn't let my pride get in the way or we would end up estranged from everyone.

So I always forgave...and Peter didn't. He has not gotten along with his sister at all in their adult lives because of some of the things she has done. He always hated when I would forgive her but I couldn't NOT---she was my family.

Now that I realize how many times Peter had/has lied to me in the past eight years, I just want to smack him. Because although he labelled me a pushover for forgiving others, he expects me to let go of the past shit he has put me through. And I want to do it...I want to trust that he tells me the truth. Sadly, most of the time I DO trust that he is telling me the truth---and many times, I find out later the words coming out of his mouth were lies.

Like the smoking. I really, truly hate the smell of cigarettes and myself and our two children have asthma---but when Peter left me, he started smoking but last August, he promised me he had stopped.

I wanted to believe him...and so I did.
Until today.

Today when we were both at an activity for one of our kids, I could tell he had been smoking. I wanted to say something, to start a fight that I would later regret, but I didn't. I pushed my pride aside {once again} because I wanted our children to have a good day.

So maybe I am a pushover. Maybe I seem weak when I trust over and over again. But I don't look at it that way. I think my ability to forgive makes me strong and brave. I haven't yet forgiven Peter but Peter's lies have been far worse than anything his sister or any other person in my life has done. I figure he lied for 7 years so I get the next 7 years to heal and forgive. I honestly don't think it'll take me that long but if it does, that's ok.

This is my process. I get to decide how it goes. Peter doesn't get to dictate my side of our divorced relationship. If I want to push him away and cut off any relationship with him, I have the freedom to do that.

I am in charge of how I act.

And no matter my choices, Peter doesn't get to negate my bravery.

End. Of. Freaking. Story.