reality

9/26/2015 – Day Twenty – Nine.

I thought about her for the first time in years. It was bound to happen. When you stop being friends with someone, you pretend they don’t exist. You wish them well and go on with your life. Maybe it was the reconnecting with my favorite band, but for the first time I could say her name without negativity attached behind it. Without feeling any aspect of animosity toward her. Where I didn’t feel any hatred, I felt nothing. Dare I say, I felt a hint of sadness? I don’t know.  I get these moments in my life where I believe for a second I can be friends with people from my past. Retain that sense of friendship if only for nostalgic purposes. I have to be honest, I miss people. However, I don’t miss the drama, I don’t miss the lies, etc.

For the first time I felt no animosity toward the past. Where I wanted to let bygones be bygones and sit and talk about everything and in-between. Growing up is harder than it looks. Some of us grow up and change, while others can’t help but remain the same. Here I thought I was the grown up that I had been the one growing up, when in reality I am the one struggling to change. Growing up means letting go of all the hatred and animosity of the past, but I couldn’t do it. Its like I remember why it started, why it happened, and I can’t change the past. I can’t go back and change words or reactions. In the past I had this desperation to be someone else and it never happened. Instead I stayed the same person I had always been. I don’t remember where this desperation to be someone happened. Somewhere between here and there, I forgot what it felt like to be myself. I find the guilt of my own problems seep into this nostalgia, and sometimes I wish I still had someone to talk about the past with.

We were those crazy kids. Those crazy kids that would run at every chance to be in a big city. Small town girls with big city dreams. One of us stayed a dreamer and the other grew up in reality. I am surrounded by reality but it’s the dreaming that still haunts me. The older I get the more I wish I could just ask you a million different things. I wonder if certain things still bother you that did back then. Little things, big things, stupid insignificant things.  I wonder if it bothers you that people are married that probably shouldn’t be. I wonder if it bothers you that the same people are having kids who said they wouldn’t. Who said they only wanted to with you. Because sometimes it bothers me, and I guess I just wonder if it bothers you too.

I know we grow up and become even less of our former selves, but I can’t help but wonder. Nostalgia has a funny way of letting you down. Making you remember things and people as they were, only in memory. Some days I wonder what I would do if I saw you again. I know I wouldn’t do a thing. If I saw you on the street, I would forget you just the same. We are not those crazy kids anymore. If we were still friends after all these years, we would have found a way to drift apart.  Sometimes I miss you and I know I shouldn’t. But sometimes when I hear a song, or hear a funny story, or see someone from our past, I can’t help but laugh. We grew up and I finally understand now. In order to grow up we have to let go of our nostalgia to make way for our reality. We had to drift apart to be who we need to be. I am still searching and you’ve already found yourself.

I understand now, just sometimes I miss you and I don’t know why.

 

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Suffocate on eternal bliss.

I am done.

Exhausted, drained and every exasperated feeling. My emotions are on over drive and I can’t think straight. I have no energy for the same repetitive things and gentle formalities. Living in a world full of “Yes” people, with people so afraid of hearing “No”. When did we become frightened with the truth, and become discouraged with unfamiliarity? We’ve been lied too. We’ve been told to follow our dreams, because they always come true. No one ever tells us to work hard and then watch our dreams unfold.

No. Instead we all bite the hands that feed us and expect more from the next person. We are all in for the using and taking of everyone’s resources. We stop asking for help and instead ask for people to do for us. Do this, because I can’t. Do this, because I don’t know how.  Do this, because I fucking desire it and for the rest of the world to follow. All these materialistic needs with superficial tendencies. Generations of “likes” and who can make things easier for us. A thousand moonlight superficial “yes”  are prettier and better for our complexion. Let me love you more, until I have used you. Until I have sucked all your resources dry to fall in love with the next big thing. That is all that truly matters, what you see through a filtered photograph that claims to be truth. At the risk of running my mouth, I can’t lie. People expect so much and yet want to do so little. The bare minimal of life instead of setting out to live their own adventures. Learning and experiencing, doing everything for yourself. I don’t mind helping but when does helping become doing everything? We say “yes” so often, everyone is afraid of doing things themselves. We say “yes” so often, that hearing “No” can be discouraging. If people only knew we are entitled to nothing and the world owes us just the same. The world should never be handed to us. We all have to work hard to get what we desire. People make it look easy but only they know the true struggle of maintaining a dream.

Dreams are only easy when we are asleep. Easy when everything is within our reach, when we lay our head  down at night. If only it were that easy. If only everything I truly wanted was right within my grasp. Instead I watch my dreams go further from reach and completely out of my grasp. The sweet is never truly sweet until we experience the sour. The sour has overtaken my sense of taste, that everything has remain a bitter embrace. Still I solider on, still I keep going. Because one day dreams won’t seem like dreams anymore. The blood on my fingertips will be worth it in the end. At the end of the day I will be grateful for the thousands of “No” words I’ve heard, instead of the deceitful “Yes”. In that moment I will feel I truly earned it. I can’t lie to you. Some days I wish everything was handed to me. That everyone would do everything I asked of them and that I wouldn’t lift a single finger. That being so bold would get me everything I wanted, without doing a single damn thing. I want to use people as they have done to me. Use them until they have nothing left inside. Until they are dried out and drained, left unresponsive. I want to hear a thousand “Yes”, instead of the “No” I always receive. I want to believe that all these lies I’ve been fed can be some aspect of reality. Only in dreams do these things exist. Only in dreams can I be showered in riches and my talents praised from every rooftop. Sometimes doing things for yourself hurts. The hardest thing is life is doing things for yourself, even if it hurts, even if kills you in the end.

I am not afraid to do things myself, neither should you. Do things yourself and the rest will follow. There is no harm in asking for help just don’t expect everyone to do things for you. For every “yes” you hear, next time you’ll hear a thousand “no’s”. When you use people enough, they will stop helping you. It’s time to do things for yourself, even if it hurts, even if it kills you. Because when you least expect it, something beautiful will come from all this pain. For once in your life, the sincerity of accomplishment will mean more than anything in this world.

I guarantee it will be worth it in the end, trust me.

 

 

 

 

Do I stay or Do I go?

I am a creature of habit. I have my same routines and abide by them as the days go. It’s human nature to seek comfort in others, and in the surroundings of people. Some days I just keep to myself. Alone in my surroundings and alone in my thoughts. I find myself getting older and seeking comfort in doing things on my own and slowly retreating into my home to do nothing. People have a funny way of frightening me, so I refrain from human contact until I see fit for me.

We are all getting older. My peers, my family and my friends, we’re all growing up and growing into our own lives. I used to seek comfort in legions of friends, now I can’t pick up the phone to call them. It’s not that I don’t care, its that we are all on our own different paths. Different paths for different walks of life. When you’re younger you believe that your friends will be there forever. That every milestone your friendships will withstand the testaments of time. Then you see as the same people you confided in, stop talking to you for reasons beyond your control. In a way, you’re not growing up if you’re not losing some aspects of your friendships. As much as it hurts, you can’t stop life from happening. You can’t stop this evolution from occurring in your day to day life.

I find myself still holding down the anchor of my hometown. Staying to wait for people that will never return. Watching people come and go as they fit please. People who said they’d never change to become polar opposites of themselves. Or maybe that’s who they have always been. Who knows. I just don’t have the time to wait around expecting things to happen, that were never going to happen to begin with. Now I am left at this crossroads of who I am and who I am suppose to be. Do I stay and wait the testaments of time? Or do I go and start my life a new?

The more I wander the more I want to pack every last bit of myself into boxes. Leave this town and the last of the memories that I carry with me. Leave and never tell a single soul about my whereabouts. I am tired of sitting around and watching everyone else’s life pass me by. I am tired of everyone taking advantage of me and expecting me to follow their lead. This isn’t who I was suppose to be. This isn’t where I am suppose to be. I am ready for everything to change and to be some place else. All of my excuses have expired. All of my resources have dried out. The only thing I know is that when I leave, no one will follow. Maybe it’s for the best but leaving is easier than staying in one place where nothing happens.

Do I stay or do I go? I have no reason to stay, maybe it’s best that I go.

 

?M = To Change Sh*t.

I think about change as often as the next person. Change of scenery, change of pace, change of environment, and all that jazz. We’re all ready for that next step, on that next level hustle, but seldom do we ever take that chance. All it takes is a little bit of courage to take that chance to make that change. Sounds easy right? But why are we so afraid of doing everything we set out to do? I find myself making up excuses about why I can’t change, instead of just fucking changing. I can change right? I can do whatever, I set myself out to do. Because the world is my fucking oyster.

Of course I like the idea of change. This idea of change that films and coming of age stories tell you happen. But what about the rest of us that have responsibilities? Change can happen, after you pay off debts and start being positive. Change can happen with a change of attitude and believing in yourself. Because all it takes is a great attitude to turn everything around. Sometimes you’re burned out on positivity that it feels better to bring back that good old haunting feeling. This dark cloud that follows you everywhere changing all these new beginnings right to that old familiar feeling. Even new experiences can burn you out. Even things you wanted to be better for you, put a damper on your expectations. The things we wished for ourselves have a funny way of not being what we want them to be. We take jobs to pay the bills and eventually those jobs become our life. We in turn start to hate these jobs because of the way they make us feel. I hated every single one of my jobs and the reason being I was afraid of change. Afraid of going out on a limb because that’s where the fruit is.

You know you’re burned out from office jobs when every job that requires an 8 to 5, you hate after a week. After 10 plus years of the same job, all programs start looking the same: Foresite, AS400, JD Edwards, etc. Each one is the efficient way to handle business. These programs are all “The way of the future”, and every other similar saying. Basically they are all the same fucking program, but you are too polite to say otherwise. All the same boring ass programs that you’ve been programed to believe are “The way of the future”. You start your morning going through the motions of work, when really you are miles away from your boring ass responsibilities. I can’t even begin to tell you how many programs I’ve worked with that are considered to the new approach to everything. When in reality they waste more paper and do the same functions as all the other programs. What does it matter anyway, I am making money. I have a job and should be grateful for my chances. Its not that I am ungrateful, I am grateful. Its that knowingness in my gut that I should be doing something else. Something better than pushing paper and smiling, when I feel like screaming and lighting everything on fire. But I am a sucker in the belief that “Good things, come to those who wait”, so waiting is what I do.

Thats where I have it wrong. This waiting for the good things to happen. Waiting on good things that everyone else snatches up, and I get upset about. Because the grass is always greener on the other side. Who ever said “Good things come to those who wait”, was a sucker. A sucker in all the sense of the words. Sure good things come to those who wait, but to the people who actually go out and do shit, better amazing things happen too. I guess after everything I was just used to this fallback, that if everything went wrong I had my fallback job. I was good at listening to directions and having a follow through. I was good at doing my job and handling everyone else’s responsibilities. I was good at taking the fall when everyone else took the praise. Thats what makes me such a great assistant, I was good at cleaning up the messes that nobody else wanted to do. Because waiting for things to happen was my escape, this belief that things were going to get better once people took a look at me.

The last job I had I just didn’t have the passion for. Sure it’s easy to fake passion, I was a master of it. I thrive on challenges and pushing myself, but this time I just couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t care about a fallback. I didn’t care about the outcomes of my mistakes. I didn’t care if everything fell apart and I was the cause of it. I was miserable and burned out on my tired excuses of “Good things, happen to those who wait”. You reach that point in your life where you have to ask yourself “What’s more important, your pride or a paycheck?”. Bills will eventually be paid. Debt continuously will always take control of your life but sometimes you have to do something great. When every time you look at the screen and you want something greater you do everything in your power to be great. Sometimes you are better than your job. Sometimes you are better than cleaning up other peoples mistakes. More importantly you’re better than everyone’s expectations of you and one day all that hustling pays off. Life its too great to be sitting in a cubicle from 8am to 5pm just waiting and wishing for things to happen. We are all going to struggle from time to time but in the end we come out victorious.

For every program I worked on there was always a command to change your options. The last job I worked at was “?M”, to modify what you save on the screen. The reality was I saw it as “?M”= To change shit. Thats what I’m going to do, “?M” to change shit in my life. To be greater, to be better, and everything else will fall into place.

I’m about to see a million things
I thought I’d never see before and I
I’m about to do all of the things
I’ve dreamed of and
I don’t even miss you at all

6/29/2014

Goodnight, Bad Morning.

Goodnight, another bad morning. 

There was something peaceful about watching you sleep. Knowing that for once you would have nothing to say. Keeping everything inside, when in turn you would die to tell everyone. Inside where no one not even I would hear. Moments like these don’t last forever. Eventually that moment between night and day, we are bound to wake up from. At this point I didn’t care about anything. Not this time, not at this moment. Not the feelings, not the honesty about these reactions. I don’t think I ever slept for fear of waking up and knowing you’d be gone. Gone to reality. Gone to someone else. Gone to the person you were in the daylight.

For those moments when you slept, I loved you so much that my body ached. I loved you so much that it hurt my head. I knew this couldn’t last forever. Doing all these wrongs, never made a right. The morning would wake us and back to the carriages that were already turned into pumpkins. Back to the terrible reality that awaits us. Back to the doors to our souls we close so tightly behind our hearts. But when the night skies fight with the daylight thats when I loved you best. Thats when I felt everything and in turn said nothing. Maybe I was always dreaming. Waking up never felt as good as this moment. I could love you forever if I wanted to. I just don’t think I can. I don’t ever want to wake up.

Doing all these bad things, never made me feel good. Wanting you now, never changed who you were when we woke up. Even good nights have bad mornings. Even you will wake up to be as rotten as the rest. But that moment where the night fights with the daylight, is when I always loved you best. When my body ached from my head to my toes. When no matter how many times I cried out to you, you stayed right where you were. The only times I could have you is when the night would fight with the light. I know I have to wake up from this. I know I have to wake up to who you really are. We are the most terrible people in the most perfect lighting. But at this moment, this current state, even terrible people can sometimes be beautiful too.

What a beautiful state we’re in. 

3/16/2007

Wonderland.

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If reality were as perfect as our dreams, we’d never fall asleep. We’d formulate ways to stay closer to the ground, instead of reaching for the stars. Dreaming has a way of making you believe things so impossible could be real. How vivid the sounds, how vivacious the colors, and how beautiful the people in all their splendor. If only we could stay in this dream state for a little while longer. Just a little bit longer.

Flashing lights and we
Took a wrong turn and we
Fell down a rabbit hole.

It’s silly to believe that dreams could feel this realistic, when you know deep down you’re bond to wake up. Still I find myself believing in this unrealistic nonsense that somewhere in my subconscious, this could be real. Because in dreams is the only way that you and I exist. The only way that I truly believe had we made a play, this could have lasted. The only image I remember of you is so perfectly etched in my memory. Perfectly perfect in all your splendor as dreams intended for you to be. The real world would never let me have you. Reality was too much to bare and my obsession of fears could never allow you near.

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Still I reached for you and there you appear. Magic rabbits out of a hat, watching the colors of this story turn from vivid blues to vibrant greens. Dreams are our wonderland. Perfectly perplexed chaotic perfection. Watching ourselves run from one end of the mind to another. Spotlighting our mind to believe that this is exactly what we wanted in the end. Fears in reality take away the clouds of dreams. The tremor shakes in my hands stand still whenever you find me. I know I’ll have to come down from this, I know eventually I’ll have to come back home.

I reached for you but you were gone
I knew I had to go back home

The problems with dreaming is waking up to reality. Seeing things as they really need to be. If only reality were as wonderful as our dreams. Our dreams that shield us from our unimaginative reality. Its in dreams that we can run away. Its in dreams we are free to do as we imagine and believe. It’s in dreams I can believe that we have a chance when reality tells me other wise. Maybe I just have to let you go. A day will come when I reach for you and you’ll be gone. Wonderland is never suppose to be perfect, even behind smiles we find the lies and the cracks through the concrete. Still I just want to pretend that you’re perfectly perfected, even if this is our wonderland. Even in dreams we find reality, and in reality we find our madness. Wonderland you tricked me into believing that dreams could be as pure as perfection. Instead you made me mad in the process.

In the end in wonderland we both went mad.

It’s time for me to wake up now.

 

Go your own way.

I am a selfish person.

For my own selfish reasons, I believe people to be exactly how I went them to be. Because of my own imperfections, I place people upon this pedestal and expect so much from them. Since I have my own troubles, I expect people to be the opposite. In some twisted way, I want everyone to be there when I need them to be. Because it’s all about me, my needs, and what I want. We are all a little selfish sometimes, why should I be any different?

For the past couple of years, I have invested all my time in people. Watching them shape and grow up into remarkable grown ups. I have poured my heart out to these people and watched my life fall apart in the shambles. Every single one of us has imperfections, but sometimes I wish we were all perfect. None of us is equipped with ammo to save each of ourselves from ourselves. I can’t help but want to believe in these expectations I have of people. That everyone is untouchable, strong, and can do anything they set their minds to. That inside each of us lies a super hero capable of anything and everything. More importantly, I need these people to save me, help me, be there for me. Me, me, me.  Most days I believe that but sometimes our emotions and realities get the best of all of us.

We are all incapable of making any mistakes. We are all perfect beings. Because I am a crazy person, I believe that. Every word of that. Perfect beings incapable of doing any wrong because thats how bizarre bat-shit crazy I am. Perfect in every which way I want you to be. It’s weird how things in your mind tend to come out different in real life. Our day dreams are not as real as our reality, I suppose. Eventually chips start to form in their armor. The pedestals for which they have been held upon start to crumble. As much as I want to fight for perfection, all of our imperfections seem to shine through. I get angry, I curse the skies, and curse the beings I have before me. These are the people that aren’t suppose to have dents in their armor. These are the people that are suppose to remain cool and carefree and take over the world. The more I shout to the heavens the more I tend to look at myself. All the time I have spent on others and nothing to show for my own imperfect ways.

I become angry for all the wrong reasons. I begin to hate everyone. I alienate myself from so many people all the sake of everyone not being who I want them to be. All because of my own perception of perfection, believing that everyone else has to be exactly who I want them to be. I am juvenile, I am childish, and more importantly I am crazy. Who am I to judge anyone for their actions? Who am I to point out the flaws of other people, when I have spent a lifetime correcting all my flaws. Who am I to tell people what they should be doing, when I should be focusing on my own life? Growing up means letting go of all these childish ways of thinking. Letting go of this perception of perfect. Letting go of people and allowing them to find the super hero inside of themselves. Instead of searching for perfection in other people I need to start embracing the imperfections in myself. Finding the loveliness in everything instead of pointing out the flaws I can never correct.

I am not perfect and neither is anyone else. All the imperfections I embrace in myself, I have to embrace in other people. I can’t become angry for people living their lives the way they want to live it. I can’t be angry for everyone’s mistakes. I need to stop being selfish expecting people to be what I want them to be. We are all human beings making mistakes and living life. If I can embrace the flaws in myself, I need to be able to embrace the flaws in others. The world is filled with beautiful amazing people and not any one of them is perfect. I will never be perfect and neither will you.

5/15/2013

 

If there was a way to apologize for my way of thinking, I would do just that. My insecurities caused my beliefs in this level of perfection. Treat people and be angry with people for all the wrong reasons. I am sorry for hurting anyone for my past ways, sorry for expecting too much from people, sorry for believing that people could be exactly how I want them to be. 6/2/2015

Talking sh*t about a pretty sunset.

I am a sucker for sunsets. Where the colors of the sky blend chaotically into the atmosphere. Where the fades of sky blues tarnish into the clouds to form bright pinks to luscious violets and transition with their oranges into the dark skies we see at night. Maybe I am the only one that sees it that way. Watching this transformation of color just happen before my eyes.  The more I try and explain myself, the more people point out the flaws and dismantle the sunset that I love. Colors of sunsets are a lot like dreams, everyone has their own perception of them. No matter how many times a person puts their two cents in about color, I can’t help but feel they have it all wrong. Everyone wants this picturesque sunset to photograph and show the world. To mark it up to their own perspection of beauty and edit out all the flaws. The more they capture the more they turn it around and change it. Editing reality you take away the beauty of it all. Flaws and all.

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Maybe we are going about it all wrong. Taking pictures of the sky doesn’t give the sky it’s beautiful justice. The colors that are sketched into my mind never show up as beautiful as I photograph them. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could photograph the sky without the need of digital devices? No sunset looks as beautiful as it exist in my memory. No sunset can be photographed to its picturesque perfection. Why do I bother explaining the things I love, when someone is going to come around and change everything? You can’t put a filter on my sunsets and tell me that this is what you see. You can’t tell me that life as you photograph it is what I am suppose to see. I find myself allowing others fears and perception of beauty filter into my own ideas. I find myself wanting to change the things I once loved all for the sake of finding something beautiful. I can drive myself crazy trying to change every single one of the flaws but in the end its the imperfections that make everything so damn beautiful.

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Nostalgia always has a way of letting us down. Every once in a while people will find a way to let you down and break you heart. Sunsets will come and go and all you’re left with are all the colors they leave behind in your memory. Sometimes staring up at the sky is better than staying asleep and dreaming. Dreams are only real in your memory but sunsets are fucking there for the taking. Don’t allow anyone else’s perceptions of your reality change what you see. Then again what do I know, sunsets are just sunsets. Colors are just as over exaggerated as our dreams. Sometimes people are right, maybe the sunset that I see is in the wrong placement of everything I want. Maybe the colors that I see aren’t as important as what anyone else sees. Who knows. All I care about is feeling something other than nothing. Seeing the colors for everything they are worth, there for my amusement. I’ll never find the perfect sunset everyone claims exists. Maybe I am wrong for loving all the things that I do but for what it’s worth, I still fall in love every time I look up at the sky as the sun sets. That’s all I could ever ask for, falling in love with colors before the darkness hits. It’s through color that we truly believe in ourselves, it’s before the dark that we reach for the light again.  That’s all I could ever want.

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Talking shit about a pretty sunset
Blanketing opinions that I’ll probably regret soon
I’ve changed my mind so much I cant even trust it
My mind changed me so much I cant even trust myself

Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers.

Every once in a while you forget who you are completely. You disappear into fragments of who you once were. The stories you’ve told a hundred times, become the stories you desperately run away from. How wise it would be to leave all the madness behind. Watch the world through someone else’s eyes. Disappear completely, to find yourself again.

Madness in all it’s crazy glory.

You want to rid yourself of your old life. Cut out the toxic nonsense and burn all the photographs. Take everything you once believed to be pure and throw it all away. Bury it completely. Claw your skin until everything is out underneath. Start over. New people, new faces, new skin, anything then what is in front you. Run toward the largest city and disappear into the crowds, anything to runaway from these feelings. The regret, the desperation and even the sadness that is occupied by the countless madness talks.

We’re all going mad.

What made life something to which we run away from? What made these crazy thoughts worth our time? Disappearing to hide from the desperation of reality. The fools that made you believe, the broken hearted corpses you can’t help but attach yourself to. We were young, we were foolish, and deep down we can’t help believing. You give everything away to feel better. Hoping that in the end you will be fine. We are all the little broken inside. We are all going a little mad. Catching glimpses of our former selves in pieces of people that we used to know.

It takes more then a day to rid ourselves of these feelings. Is it ever really over? Is it ever really forgotten? Here I go with all my feelings and letting go. Everything and everyone.

Gone.

#Recovery

re·cov·er·y  :

1. The act, process, duration, or an instance of recovering.
2. A return to a normal condition.
3. Something gained or restored in recovering.
4. The act of obtaining usable substances from unusable sources

 

Recovery.

One word.

4 syllables.

8 letters.

Recovery is one of those tricky words. Where no matter how many times I see the word, I can’t feel it. It doesn’t matter how many times I say the word out loud, or write it down, it just seems unreal to me. It’s just a word. Just a word made up of 4 syllables and 8 letters. Just one word that has so many meanings and I am still trying to grasp it.

Ten years ago if you would have told me I’d be in recovery for an eating disorder, I would have told you, you were crazy. Even just writing that down, is absolutely weird. Ten years ago I couldn’t have even imagined how my life would just fall apart. That who I am today is a fraction of the person I was in the past. I’m not the same person I was a year ago. I’m not the same person I was since I started this bullshit mess. That’s what it is to me. It’s bullshit. A waste of my time. My time that I could have spent enjoying life instead of obsessing over every calorie and wondering how much longer it would take to purge everything out. I know parts of me still harbor a monster inside, I’ve just learned how to tame it. Some days I wish I could just start over. New person, new body, just someone different from who I am.

Recovery isn’t easy. Even at my 2 year mark of being eating disorder free, it hasn’t come easily. I still have a hard time with food. I still obsess about the outcome of everything I put into my body. While I am healthy it’s still hard for me to come to terms with the body I see before me. I look back at photographs of when I was sick and couldn’t understand why I was so hard on myself. Why I treated myself so poorly and hurt myself so many times. Its hard to look at the scale and see the numbers increase instead of decrease. It’s hard to see people work toward their fitness goals and I’m just slowly coming to terms with my body. A part of me tries to look on the bright side but reality is it’s hard. It’s hard to hold back the urge to be my expectation of perfection. It’s hard to see my body change and be okay with it. This is reality and most of the time I am not okay with what I see.

Recovery is a process. Its this work in progress motion that brings us to where we need to be. Every day I struggle with the balance of feeling okay and feeling miserable. Just as with emotions some days are good and some days are complete nightmares. Even at two years, I still have so much to work on. I need to find that balance of letting go and being okay. To find that realization that being healthy is better than being perfect. It still gives me severe anxiety to hear people talk about their bodies. Somewhere in my twisted mind, I start to think that about myself. I snap out of it but the struggle starts all over again. This never ending struggle of being okay and being perfect.  I wish that with recovery you can just erase the past years and be completely healed. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much to hide this pain. The reality is you have to let that notion go. Let all those negative feelings leave and look at the positive things. I am healthy now. I am getting better. With each year, I find strength through the struggle. I will never be my expectation of perfect. I will always struggle with how I look. I have to be able to come to terms with being healthy is better then dying.

Recovery is my salvation. Recovery is what will eventually set me free from this bullshit feeling. Getting rid of a lifetime of negativity won’t happen in a day. As much as I wish for this feeling to disappear instantly, I know that every day is a process. I am always going to be a work in progress, I just have to finally be okay with the imperfections. I am not and nor will I ever be perfect, I just have to accept that. Only then will I truly be free.

Here’s to healing and all it’s glory.