The Llama Truth

The Day I Slid into Pathology

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 21:22:02 -0400

It’s hard for me to pinpoint the exact start of my eating disorder: the day I slid into the pathology. There are flashes, memories: changing seats on the school bus so that I never sat next to a girl whose thighs were thinner than mine, using food for comfort when I was upset, the painful sense that I wasn’t as fit as other girls. While I can’t recall the exact moment my thoughts, my mind, my heart slid fully into the disorder, I can identify the turning point, the second I shifted into an eating disordered free-fall.

I was fifteen and on another diet. I had decided to REALLY commit to this one: no matter what I would lose weight. I was invigorated and excited but I gave in and ate a quarter of a granola bar at lunch time. My mood dropped. I became hungrier and hungrier. Somehow it felt like those two bites of sweetness awakened a monster inside me.

Later at the bowling alley, I watched my friends snack on popcorn and candy. I tried to contain my desire to partake: I was not going to be weak. Then suddenly I found a snickers bar in my hand. I took three bites. Three sticky, sweet, chewy bites. I panicked. What had I done? Ruined. Everything was ruined. How many calories did I just consume? Crap. Crap. Crap. CRAP.
I was in the bathroom stall just trying to breathe. Trying to calm the storm inside me. I looked down at the porcelain toilet bowl and genius struck. Without a second thought, without a look back I stuck my fingers down my throat. I was flooded with relief. Everything was wiped clean. I felt as though my sins were gone. I washed my face and strutted back to my peers. I nonchalantly grabbed a few kernels of popcorn and tossed them into my mouth. I was relaxed for the first time all day. I had found the secret and my whole life was about to change.

Little did I know, however, I had taken a head first dive into what would be my own personal hell. An imprisonment that would threaten my well-being, my relationships, and even my life.

"Landing in the bedrock of hopelessness and being pulled back to the surface by unconditional..."

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 07:08:06 -0400

“Landing in the bedrock of hopelessness
and being pulled back to the surface by unconditional love
The shame of self destruction
buried by the grace of a second chance
And the pains of hunger and dehydration
relived by faith and honesty
Taught her that every drought must come to an end.”

- a stanza from a poem I wrote in high school

Photo

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 06:33:48 -0400

The Start

Thu, 31 Jan 2013 14:12:00 -0500

I’m not sure what changed between 7th and 8th grade but somehow a switch flipped. I lost my confidence. In a way, I lost my true identity. Suddenly, it was vital that I do well. Perfection became my goal as I decided I had to make straight A’s. I didn’t understand what was going on but things at home felt tumultuous and unstable. Our house was for sale, we were soon moving away from the house I grew up in.

I don’t remember why it happened or what put the thought in my head, but at thirteen I cut myself for the first time. It was shallow and barely broke the skin, but it provided some sort of relief. One part of me knew it wasn’t okay but another part of me was just grateful to be feeling some relief and some calm in the wilderness of my mind.

I hurt myself a few more times while we lived in Abingdon; barely broken skin, no more than scratches on my arm. I didn’t loose control yet: that was yet to come.

To be continued…

Aaron Warren Llama Love!!!

Wed, 23 Jan 2013 08:53:00 -0500

Aaron Warren

Llama Love!!!

Oh, how things have changed...

Sat, 19 Jan 2013 22:47:14 -0500

It is no secret that I had an eating disorder for over six years. During that time, my body image was severely distorted. When I looked in the mirror, I saw someone overweight and repulsive. Worst of all, I honestly believed everyone saw that image of me. I hated that reflection. It was too fat, too big, too imposing. I bought clothes that were too big partially to hide my body and partially because I could never believe how small I was.

Thankfully, as I worked through recovery, I learned that reflection was a lie projected by my eating disordered mind. Slowly, I learned to see the truth. Slowly, I began to accept that the mirror and I slowly began to heal.

What is more of a secret, is that I began self-harming at age 13. Where eating disorders are an acceptable illness (horribly enough) self-harm/cutting is seen as something repulsive that “emo” kids do. Not something children, adults, and teenagers do because they don’t have the coping skills to handle life. This is part of my story I haven’t gone to extreme lengths to hide but I also haven’t shared it anywhere near as openly as I have my eating disorder. My goal this year is to stand up and speak about my suffering from self-mutilation as much as I have my eating disorder. People need to know recovery is possible. Not just that they need to hear a story from a real person. So stay posted: my story will show up here over the next few weeks.

I recovered from self-harming behaviors.

Prayers on Twitter and Facebook

Sun, 23 Dec 2012 00:30:19 -0500

So this isn’t going to be a very festive post, but it is one that I feel the need to write. I preface all of this with the admission that I am not a biblical scholar; this post is just one girl’s understanding and convictions.

I have read a lot of prayers on Facebook and Twitter recently. Not prayer request or statements that one is praying for something, but prayers addressed to God. For example (these are based on ones I’ve seen but are not direct quotations) ‘Lord, guide and protect us as we serve you.’ or ‘God, bring salvation into your Church this Christmas”.
I haven’t thought to much about it in the past, but reading these ‘prayers’ has often left a bad taste in my mouth. Today I was hit with a seemingly simple thought, God doesn’t have a Twitter or a Facebook page. Are these ‘prayers’ about speaking with God or are they about something else, something more self-serving.

Matthew 6: 5

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full.”

Is social media our modern day street corner? Does this admonishment from Jesus apply to our twitter posts?

In my mind, the answers are yes. We live tweet everything from Christmas parties to trips to the dentist. Should we also tweet our spiritual interactions. If so, just the positive interactions? What about when I am mad at God or feel far away, do I declare that to my hundreds of friends to?

I am not claiming to have this figured outL there is so much gray area, so much that depends on intent. I would love to hear other opinions on this matter.

"If you could sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to..."

Sat, 15 Dec 2012 00:39:27 -0500

“If you could sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person.”

- Fred Rogers (via herewecollide)

"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known..."

Sat, 17 Nov 2012 14:30:09 -0500

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”

- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

"I won’t say that diets are always bad for everyone, but I will assert with no qualms that I believe..."

Sat, 10 Nov 2012 15:06:49 -0500

“I won’t say that diets are always bad for everyone, but I will assert with no qualms that I believe commercial diets are bad for people with histories of eating disorders, because they commodify many disordered eating patterns into a package that is socially acceptable and thereby enabling. And while I’m certain there are people out there who have proven to be exceptions, I have yet to meet any of them.”

- Lesley Kinsel is one of the only reasons I continue to visit xojane.com (via tangledupinlace)

Two nights ago my back was popping every time I moved. Thank you...

Sun, 21 Oct 2012 20:30:53 -0400

Two nights ago my back was popping every time I moved. Thank you arthritis.

"We experience it (a dream) predominately  in visual images … Part of the difficulty  of giving..."

Fri, 28 Sep 2012 21:18:47 -0400

“We experience it (a dream) predominately  in visual images … Part of the difficulty  of giving an account of dreams is due to  our having to translate these images into words. ‘I could draw it,’ a dreamer often says to us, ‘but I don’t know how to say it.”

- Freud

-Robert Montgomery, artist and poet

Fri, 14 Sep 2012 18:19:11 -0400

-Robert Montgomery, artist and poet

Download great free handwriting fonts...

Thu, 06 Sep 2012 14:45:20 -0400

designerconfetti:

High fiber

Lullaby

Arsenale white

Sybil green

Pacifico

Neo retro fill

Stars from our eyes

Peach sundress

Cul de sac

The only exception

Read More

Answered Prayers

Thu, 23 Aug 2012 07:45:54 -0400

“Congratulations, Alanna. We were able to find some additional fellowship money and have recommended you to the Dean’s Office to receive a 12 credits/year fellowship, 24 credits total.”

Let me spell this out for you: GWU graduate programs are $1,310 per credit. So I was just awarded *drum roll please* $31,440 over the next two years. That takes the impossible costs of the program down to possible. The program will still cost me $5,000-$10,000 more than some other programs would, but it is the TOP rated program in the country and it has been my dream for 5 years now.

I was just settling into the letting go of GWU. I had just made plans to move forward in other directions and to trust that this was going to happen on a timing other than my own. Then I opened this email. Money was “found” and someone I have met once decided I was who they wanted it to go to. This has been simultaneously both the most humbling experience I have ever had and the biggest boost to my confidence I have had in a long time.

Trying to Let Go

Tue, 14 Aug 2012 20:48:58 -0400

This may not be the most eloquent post I have written, but hopefully it will suffice. I was incredibly excited and prouder of myself that I have ever been when I was accepted into GWU’s Art Therapy MA program. I have never felt more like I could succeed then I did when I saw the letter accepting me into the top Art Therapy program in the nation. But being unable to come up with the funding for the $40,000+ /year program is absolutely heartbreaking. I am trying with all my might to remember that things will happen on God’s time and not my own. I know I am eventually going to succeed and be able to help others heal, but watching this dream slide away… is so hard. I loved that program so much. I really saw myself excelling there, but it just can’t happen.

That is where I am, grieving this loss, unsure of what step to take next, scared, confused and so very sad.

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with..."

Sun, 05 Aug 2012 22:56:15 -0400

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”

- Khalil Gibran

Photo

Sun, 05 Aug 2012 21:13:48 -0400

Memories from a Terrible Night

Wed, 01 Aug 2012 07:39:00 -0400

The cold air seemed to penetrate every cell in my body. It almost surprised me that the liquid in the IV bags was not frozen solid. The cold didn’t matter, though, because Becky’s hand was still warm in mine. I wanted nothing to do with the warm drinks or trips to get some fresh air. All I wanted to do was hold on.

The nurse came in to check the life support machines. Her eyes had seen tragedy like this before and were perceptive of the needs of everyone in the room. After seeing the bluish tint to my lips and my shivering figure, she brought me a warm blanket. I wrapped the white blanket (which was oddly familiar) around my shoulders and continued holding on to my big sis. Memories and regrets flew spasmodically through my head as all sense of time drowned in shock and grief. At some point, I compromised to sit in the big chair at the foot of the bed and pile more blankets on my freezing body. As my body temperature rose, my exhaustion finally registered with my brain. It was, after-all, almost 7:30a.m. and I had not slept – let alone let my thoughts stop racing. My eye lids took on a life or their own; closing against my will. I slipped into a dreamless unconsciousness, lulled by the unnatural rhythm of Becky’s assisted breath.

I was reaching for the snooze button before I realized that the loud beeping was not my alarm clock. My eyes rocketed open just in time to see a pair of pastel scrubs run past me. I stood up and started to walk toward the bed, but a calm, practiced voice said, “Sweetheart, we need to ask ya’ll to leave the room for a minute,” For some strange reason—such as breakfast—only my grandfather and I were in the room. We walked out the door before I thought to protest. My feet hit the hard shinning tile floor as an echoing and unnaturally calm voice come over the intercom: “Code Blue. Code BLUE.” The world started to spin wildly around, my mom and brother-in-law dashed down the hall as if the voice had called their names. Not yet comprehending exactly what was going on, I said: “You can’t go in there; they ask us to leave.” Realization slapped me with a harsh hand as my mother’s voice filled my ears, “They aren’t coding her? They are not!”

My memory turns into spurts of voices, faces, and uneven rhythms of space and time. My mind filled with the same repeating thoughts, “She crashed. She’s really gone. Gone…gone.” All words were lost on me: I could not think. Tears: pain overflowing the bounds of shocked eyes, voices too calm for the situation, and a small waiting room. Tissue boxes, hands begging for companions, sudden anger, fighting, empty echoing bathroom, cold, cold water.

15 Tips for Raising Kids With a Positive Body Image

Sun, 01 Jul 2012 19:29:49 -0400

I remember the mindless things said by adults when i was a kid. I was a skinny kid but the words still rooted into my psyche. No adult ever intend anything but those misconceptions about food, fat, and weight later helped an eating disorder grow within me. If you are a parent or someone who interacts with children please read this:

15 Tips for Raising Kids With a Positive Body Image

Never use the word fat in a derogatory way. Avoid media that does.
Never imply that you can’t do something or wear something because of your size (“oh, not with these thighs!”)
Never compliment others based on size (how many times is “you look so thin!” the ultimate compliment?)
Point out the beauty of diversity in people and nature – nurture the idea that beauty is diversity. I love to say “what would the word be if all the flowers looked the same?”
Avoid making physical activity about size or based on what you ate (“I have to jog off that cake”). Physical activity should be joyful.
Do not label foods as “good” and “bad”
Offer a variety of foods and model moderate indulgence and a wide consumption of foods. Eating should be joyful.
Don’t make your kids eat if they say they aren’t hungry¹. The refrain “finish your dinner!” should be stricken from the mommy lexicon. Better to let them trust their bodies than feel guilt about wasting food.
Don’t deny your kids food if they say they are hungry. Another area where we often ignore our kids opinions and feelings. Try to make your pantry a “yes” pantry with a variety of healthy options that your kids can eat when they want.
Never comment on the amount (too little or too much) that your kids eat.
NEVER use food as a reward, incentive, or punishment! (this is SO abused among parents!!)
Guard your children against negative body-image media – stop your subscriptions to women’s mags, don’t watch Biggest Loser, Toddler and Tiaras (focusing on appearance), and any variety of shows promoting appearance as a route to happiness.
Avoid talking about a nutrionalist approach to food – disassembling “food” into fat, carbs, calories, and other things that need to be obsessed about and counted(difficult since it isexplicitly taught in many schools).
Encourage alternative means of self-esteem besides appearance – spirituality, values, empathy, effort, etc.
Volunteer! It is much harder to think of something so superficial as size in the face of true plight.

See the rest of the post here .

The Llama Truth

The Day I Slid into Pathology

"Landing in the bedrock of hopelessness and being pulled back to the surface by unconditional..."

Photo

The Start

Aaron Warren Llama Love!!!

Oh, how things have changed...

Prayers on Twitter and Facebook

"If you could sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to..."

"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known..."

"I won’t say that diets are always bad for everyone, but I will assert with no qualms that I believe..."

Two nights ago my back was popping every time I moved. Thank you...

"We experience it (a dream) predominately in visual images … Part of the difficulty of giving..."

-Robert Montgomery, artist and poet

Download great free handwriting fonts...

Answered Prayers

Trying to Let Go

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with..."

Photo

Memories from a Terrible Night

15 Tips for Raising Kids With a Positive Body Image

"We experience it (a dream) predominately  in visual images … Part of the difficulty  of giving..."