January 21, 2008

(also posted on my Xanga site, for any of you who visit both).

A friend of mine, on her photo-blog wrote: "I guess that my career and my life will be filled with a perpetual struggle to find my voice. In a way, that's comforting, and if nothing else, it won't be boring."

I am always amazed at the random moments when little things like this find their way into my day, catch me off guard and make me think about things. Example of random moment: It's 1:40 a.m. and I am in the middle of writing a 22 page IEP for my psych class. For whatever reason, I decided to check out A's blog and see what's new, and I stumbled upon the above referenced paragraph.

And I read it once. Then twice. Then sat and thought about it and read it once more. Because I understand it. And I can relate to it. And I know exactly what it means. If there were a single phrase to sum up the... intensity... of my art or my writing or what goes on inside my head 24/7, she just wrote it: in essence, it all comes down to that "perpetual struggle to find my voice".

The difference between us, however, is the fact she has embraced that ideology as one of comfort; something to look forward to, whereas I've always faced the struggle in defensive mode, ready to fight. But maybe I've been wrong....

And maybe the difference between living and a life is found, not in the degree to which one succeeds in finding her voice and making it heard, but in having a voice to find in the first place. Without that constant, continual fight--- you are silenced. And a spirit whom is silenced begins to die. And you become empty. Numb. A shadow or a shell of your former self, with nothing constant to hold onto. I've always said my ED was my one and only constant. My comrade. My stability and the one thing I could depend on when everyone else walked away. And in some ways, this is true. But maybe I've been wrong on this too. Because the fight has always been there. It's not the ED that has been the constant-- but rather, the struggle to find my voice, my space, my place in this world. That struggle has never gone away. When all else is stripped away-- what is real will still remain. When you take away every factor that plays a part in my ED-- food, body image, family, weight, husband, etc. and on and on.--- the one thing that remains is me. Wendy. Still trying to make my voice heard in a world that moves too fast for me to keep up. And I'm forever falling backwards, being left behind. And instead of fighting for it, embracing that struggle as one that lets me know I'm still alive, I've spent all these years fighting against it. Keeping it quiet. Not saying what I need to or want to. Not saying what's in my head or what I feel. Sometimes I even keep those things from myself, so that-- when asked-- all I can do is sit there and say, "I don't know". I think mostly it's a fear of simply just allowing myself to BE. Here. Now. Right this moment. But I spend all this time looking backwards, trying to make sense of things, or looking forward trying to get everything figured out. In the meantime, I miss the everyday stuff. The little things. The seemingly unimportant things. (On second thought-- it's those "everyday stuff" sort of things that make life what it is. Without it, life would be nothing more than a series of empty moments. And emptiness only fuels the hunger, the drive, the need to find one's voice.)

Interesting thought: A searches for meaning hidden inside photographs; finds her voice by turning pictures into words.
I search for images, meanings, metaphors hidden in words, find my voice by turning words into pictures.

It's a universal struggle, regardless of the art-form, I suppose.......

(And the cynic in me jumps in and asks: "How can you go searching for yourself when you don't even know who you're looking for?")

Good question-- but one I can't answer.

Posted by Wendy at 11:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

February 6, 2007

Just over seven months have passed since I left treatment. Every day is still a struggle, as I fight to keep moving forward, while old habits and methods of dealing with life still infiltrate my days. I wonder sometimes if there is even such a thing as complete recovery from anorexia. After 17 years of this, some things are so ingrained in my head that doing anything different seems so foreign. So wrong.

Continue reading "Changes"

Posted by Wendy at 5:15 AM | Comments (3)

October 21, 2006

I've been out of IP treatment for almost 4 months now.
Coming home and readjusting was almost harder than going in the first place. When you spend months and months, day after day in group therapy and individual therapy, and more or less relearing how to live a normal life-- going back to the old life, the old atmosphere, same influences is hard. It's hard to remember what direction I'm supposed to be going when it seems, at home, it only goes one way.

I still struggle on a daily basis, trying to get my calorie level even close to the minimum requirements. I've lost all the weight I'd gained over 6 months while IP, in less than 3 months. Therapist is not happy. Obviously. And while a part of me IS happy about it, (as the anxiety, depression etc. was the worst it's ever been, due to unaccepting the weight gain), a part of me is also worried. The ED thoughts are so much less intense, and I often don't think about food or weight or eating. But that in itself is an issue, because then I forget to eat. But losing the weight has never been easier. I didn't see it, didn't notice it. I'd managed (somehow) to convince myself that my clothes (from after IP) still fit the same, even as my husband and others made comments about how big they were getting. I denied it, made excuses.

And I'm still torn on being ok with where I'm at, and wanting to lose more weight. It's been so easy thus far, if I just keep doing what I'm doing, I'll lose it fast. But at the same time, I don't want to go back where I was. I can't do that again. Not just for me, but for my husband, my job, school---- all the people I've hurt over the years by the things I do to myself.

And yet--- even this knowledge doesn't keep me from wandering that same path.
It's a long road. Confusing. Lonely.
I'm just trying to make my way to the other side without losing myself in the process.

My friend, Alyssa Schukar, a photojournalist, is doing a project on eating disorders. She followed me around for several months, documenting my life on film. Even meeting me up in Canada at the treatment center. She's put up a mini-version of the project on her website

Click on the second photo that comes up, where it stays "Story". And see a small clip of the project.

Let me know what you think! Either here or via email--- Enigma0526@yahoo.com

Posted by Wendy at 1:13 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

August 3, 2006

Things are going ok here. I'm finally getting used to being at home and being away from Westwind. I see my therapist twice a week now, and that's going ok. Some sessions are better than others, but for the most part-- it's going well.

I also just got a new job yesterday. At the Autism Center of Nebraska, working with/teaching autistic kids. I'm soooo excited about this job. My so-called 'passion' is teaching special needs kids. I've changed my major numerous times, and a few years ago, got a job at an elementary school here. I knew that teaching SPED was what I wanted to do, so I once again changed my major. To me, there is nothing better. If money weren't ever an issue, I would STILL teach. I don't care how much money I make, I just love doing it. It's not a job to me, and I actually look forward to going to work every day.

The best part of this new job is that my first client is one of my former students-- Allie-- who is the main reason I fell in love with teaching. How much more perfect can you get than that?

I still struggle on a daily basis with the eating disorder, but not nearly to the same extent as I did before I went inpatient. I've had a couple of 'slips' since I've been home, but nothing major. I also have not cut in almost 2 months, which is nearing my 10 week record.

University starts on Aug. 21, and I'm taking a couple of classes this semester. I decided to do part-time school for now, and see how it goes. I was working full time and going to school full time, and it was far too much at one time. We'll see how this semester goes, and maybe up the classes next semester. I'm getting ready to just get done with school and get my degree already. I've been out of high school now for 9 years!. And have been in college ever since, but don't have enough classes in one degree area to have a degree yet. I'm one or two classes away from several different degrees, but just never finished them. Maybe one day I will, but the teaching degree is my priority right now.

I have my good days and my bad days, and I know what I need to do--- I just don't always do it. Pete works long hours and most days leaves the house around 6:30 a.m. and doesn't get home until sometime after 7 p.m. So that makes meals tough, because I'm on my own for every single one. While I was inpatient, I got used to always having someone else there to eat with, or keep me on track. Now I'm on my own. That has caused problems at times, as I tend to just skip meals on occassion. I know I'm still under where I need to be--calorie wise-- but I'm working on that. Maybe not as hard as I should be... but it's going ok.

I see Judy today at 1 and then I start the new job today at 5 p.m.
I guess sometimes if you just hold on, if you just keep believing and trusting that things will work out the way they are supposed to, they will. So often, things don't go how I think they should go, or want them to go, and I end up sabotaging my own efforts in search of the "quick fix". Patience really is a virtue to hold onto.

Posted by Wendy at 9:55 AM | Comments (1)

July 25, 2006

thought it was about time to update my pic on here. :)

And another:

Posted by Wendy at 11:56 AM | Comments (1)