It's only Thursday? Oh.

I hurt today.
All over.
From deep inside every muscle, joint, and bone, I hurt.
I am taking the stuff that will help make the pain go bye-bye.

I also found the best concealer ever, next to the CoverBlend concealer: It is called Skin By Alison Raffaele True Concealer. It has kaolin clay, rosehip oil, beeswax, aloe, and hyaluronic acid. Yay!
Although I will never be able to give a tube to Charlotte, as she is allergic to aloe. Too bad, but still yay.

It's only Thursday? Oh.

I hurt today.
All over.
From deep inside every muscle, joint, and bone, I hurt.
I am taking the stuff that will help make the pain go bye-bye.

I also found the best concealer ever, next to the CoverBlend concealer: It is called Skin By Alison Raffaele True Concealer. It has kaolin clay, rosehip oil, beeswax, aloe, and hyaluronic acid. Yay!
Although I will never be able to give a tube to Charlotte, as she is allergic to aloe. Too bad, but still yay.

It's only Thursday? Oh.

I hurt today.
All over.
From deep inside every muscle, joint, and bone, I hurt.
I am taking the stuff that will help make the pain go bye-bye.

I also found the best concealer ever, next to the CoverBlend concealer: It is called Skin By Alison Raffaele True Concealer. It has kaolin clay, rosehip oil, beeswax, aloe, and hyaluronic acid. Yay!
Although I will never be able to give a tube to Charlotte, as she is allergic to aloe. Too bad, but still yay.

Oh!

I just thought of something...
Part of the reason I gained some of the weight so quickly over the last few weeks is because I am on a higher dose of birth control -- the highest possible dose, because the Trileptal will start to decrease the estrogen soon. I forgot about this. No wonder I am a fuller cup size and my hips are bigger: Woman, the hormones say. We are being fooled. More estrogen -- make us more womanly!
The Trileptal, though, increases my metabolism, I know this. This should be very interesting.

Oh!

I just thought of something...
Part of the reason I gained some of the weight so quickly over the last few weeks is because I am on a higher dose of birth control -- the highest possible dose, because the Trileptal will start to decrease the estrogen soon. I forgot about this. No wonder I am a fuller cup size and my hips are bigger: Woman, the hormones say. We are being fooled. More estrogen -- make us more womanly!
The Trileptal, though, increases my metabolism, I know this. This should be very interesting.

Oh!

I just thought of something...
Part of the reason I gained some of the weight so quickly over the last few weeks is because I am on a higher dose of birth control -- the highest possible dose, because the Trileptal will start to decrease the estrogen soon. I forgot about this. No wonder I am a fuller cup size and my hips are bigger: Woman, the hormones say. We are being fooled. More estrogen -- make us more womanly!
The Trileptal, though, increases my metabolism, I know this. This should be very interesting.

And one more thing I realized today...

Now that my body has filled out, I have started to notice a subtle change in my perception of space around me, of myself and the skin I fill. I feel more solid, grounded, more present. I still do not like the feel of wideness, of fullness, of more that my shape has become, but I understand that it's the illness working my thoughts.
It's funny and strange: Since I accepted being anorexic and started working to recover, I had always thought that being able to acknowledge the unsafe thought patterns meant I was all better, that if I ate a whole sandwich for lunch, I'd be done with this sickness. I don't like the feeling of extreme hunger; doesn't that mean it's done with? And then, no, I think. No, because I still have those other thoughts. I still feel too alien in my own body. I still want to go back to being smaller. I want to say I can be a size zero again and I know these are unsafe trigger thoughts but I can't stop them.
Yesterday I started doing push-ups and leg lifts like the yoga plank pose. I didn't realize how much I was pushing myself until everything started hurting and straining. The thought that had been running through my head was this will help slim you down, this will give you better muscles so you burn more fat, this will increase your metabolism and burn the inches away. And I knew it was an unsafe thought. I knew I shouldn't listen. But it had been there.
I do like what I have become, because it feels more grounded and connected to life; there is no sense of drifting away from my reality. I didn't get sick after staring at magazine models and wishing I was catwalk skinny. But I did get sick because I wanted control over my body. My worry now is that the control will be lost, but to the opposite: that I will eventually eat too much. I understand and realize that this sounds absurd, given my frame size and genetics. And these are just thoughts. Just thoughts.
I feel more alive, if that matters, I do. I feel more alive.

When should I stop talking? I have made so many journal entries saying similar things lately... I should start talking about other things.

And one more thing I realized today...

Now that my body has filled out, I have started to notice a subtle change in my perception of space around me, of myself and the skin I fill. I feel more solid, grounded, more present. I still do not like the feel of wideness, of fullness, of more that my shape has become, but I understand that it's the illness working my thoughts.
It's funny and strange: Since I accepted being anorexic and started working to recover, I had always thought that being able to acknowledge the unsafe thought patterns meant I was all better, that if I ate a whole sandwich for lunch, I'd be done with this sickness. I don't like the feeling of extreme hunger; doesn't that mean it's done with? And then, no, I think. No, because I still have those other thoughts. I still feel too alien in my own body. I still want to go back to being smaller. I want to say I can be a size zero again and I know these are unsafe trigger thoughts but I can't stop them.
Yesterday I started doing push-ups and leg lifts like the yoga plank pose. I didn't realize how much I was pushing myself until everything started hurting and straining. The thought that had been running through my head was this will help slim you down, this will give you better muscles so you burn more fat, this will increase your metabolism and burn the inches away. And I knew it was an unsafe thought. I knew I shouldn't listen. But it had been there.
I do like what I have become, because it feels more grounded and connected to life; there is no sense of drifting away from my reality. I didn't get sick after staring at magazine models and wishing I was catwalk skinny. But I did get sick because I wanted control over my body. My worry now is that the control will be lost, but to the opposite: that I will eventually eat too much. I understand and realize that this sounds absurd, given my frame size and genetics. And these are just thoughts. Just thoughts.
I feel more alive, if that matters, I do. I feel more alive.

When should I stop talking? I have made so many journal entries saying similar things lately... I should start talking about other things.

And one more thing I realized today...

Now that my body has filled out, I have started to notice a subtle change in my perception of space around me, of myself and the skin I fill. I feel more solid, grounded, more present. I still do not like the feel of wideness, of fullness, of more that my shape has become, but I understand that it's the illness working my thoughts.
It's funny and strange: Since I accepted being anorexic and started working to recover, I had always thought that being able to acknowledge the unsafe thought patterns meant I was all better, that if I ate a whole sandwich for lunch, I'd be done with this sickness. I don't like the feeling of extreme hunger; doesn't that mean it's done with? And then, no, I think. No, because I still have those other thoughts. I still feel too alien in my own body. I still want to go back to being smaller. I want to say I can be a size zero again and I know these are unsafe trigger thoughts but I can't stop them.
Yesterday I started doing push-ups and leg lifts like the yoga plank pose. I didn't realize how much I was pushing myself until everything started hurting and straining. The thought that had been running through my head was this will help slim you down, this will give you better muscles so you burn more fat, this will increase your metabolism and burn the inches away. And I knew it was an unsafe thought. I knew I shouldn't listen. But it had been there.
I do like what I have become, because it feels more grounded and connected to life; there is no sense of drifting away from my reality. I didn't get sick after staring at magazine models and wishing I was catwalk skinny. But I did get sick because I wanted control over my body. My worry now is that the control will be lost, but to the opposite: that I will eventually eat too much. I understand and realize that this sounds absurd, given my frame size and genetics. And these are just thoughts. Just thoughts.
I feel more alive, if that matters, I do. I feel more alive.

When should I stop talking? I have made so many journal entries saying similar things lately... I should start talking about other things.

They whispered

While I was riding on the Metro after work, all three of my matron goddesses sparked into my mind, leaned in, and began murmuring.
Danu, the mother, told me to keep loving.
Brigid, the healer, told me to keep feeling.
Morrigan, the warrior, told me to keep fighting.
This is all very obvious, of course. But they did not tell so much in words as more in intensity, in sensation, in every synonym for feeling I can think of. I was filled like a goblet. There was pressure on the top of my head, hands, gentle. The Morrigan's hands are surprisingly cold. But there began a sensation of tingling, as though she were scratching, massaging, bringing to the surface powerful endorphins. In the process, there was another lighter pressure on my chin, a tap, as though someone were holding my face in her hand. Brigid kissed me on the lips and pressed her forehead to mine and I felt real peace. And then, finally, the silk of arms around me, ultimate embrace, and in my mind I leaned into Danu my mother while she held me, and in my mind I heard the sounds of a river rushing and trees singing. My pentacle pendant was warm against my breast, the pendant I had anointed with blood and charged under every phase of the moon soaked in powders of dragon's blood, patchouli, white sage, black salt, and crushed amber. The pendant that created the bond that had caused the Morrigan to claim my blood, Danu to claim my heart, Brigid to claim my mind. Danu will always be my matron, but the others are not far, never.

I woke up -- I must have been asleep -- in time for my stop. Adam had asked me to come to Charlotte and Billy's house. So I am here at their house. I am waiting for food delivery. I will be having a pizza with black olives, and garlic bread.

While I had walked the twenty minutes to the house, my skin had positively flared with magic. Sometimes I don't know how to properly keep my shields in place. The air around me was singing.

Serenity.

Have no place I can be since I found Serenity. But you can't take the sky from me.
Thank you, Joss Whedon.

They whispered

While I was riding on the Metro after work, all three of my matron goddesses sparked into my mind, leaned in, and began murmuring.
Danu, the mother, told me to keep loving.
Brigid, the healer, told me to keep feeling.
Morrigan, the warrior, told me to keep fighting.
This is all very obvious, of course. But they did not tell so much in words as more in intensity, in sensation, in every synonym for feeling I can think of. I was filled like a goblet. There was pressure on the top of my head, hands, gentle. The Morrigan's hands are surprisingly cold. But there began a sensation of tingling, as though she were scratching, massaging, bringing to the surface powerful endorphins. In the process, there was another lighter pressure on my chin, a tap, as though someone were holding my face in her hand. Brigid kissed me on the lips and pressed her forehead to mine and I felt real peace. And then, finally, the silk of arms around me, ultimate embrace, and in my mind I leaned into Danu my mother while she held me, and in my mind I heard the sounds of a river rushing and trees singing. My pentacle pendant was warm against my breast, the pendant I had anointed with blood and charged under every phase of the moon soaked in powders of dragon's blood, patchouli, white sage, black salt, and crushed amber. The pendant that created the bond that had caused the Morrigan to claim my blood, Danu to claim my heart, Brigid to claim my mind. Danu will always be my matron, but the others are not far, never.

I woke up -- I must have been asleep -- in time for my stop. Adam had asked me to come to Charlotte and Billy's house. So I am here at their house. I am waiting for food delivery. I will be having a pizza with black olives, and garlic bread.

While I had walked the twenty minutes to the house, my skin had positively flared with magic. Sometimes I don't know how to properly keep my shields in place. The air around me was singing.

Serenity.

Have no place I can be since I found Serenity. But you can't take the sky from me.
Thank you, Joss Whedon.

They whispered

While I was riding on the Metro after work, all three of my matron goddesses sparked into my mind, leaned in, and began murmuring.
Danu, the mother, told me to keep loving.
Brigid, the healer, told me to keep feeling.
Morrigan, the warrior, told me to keep fighting.
This is all very obvious, of course. But they did not tell so much in words as more in intensity, in sensation, in every synonym for feeling I can think of. I was filled like a goblet. There was pressure on the top of my head, hands, gentle. The Morrigan's hands are surprisingly cold. But there began a sensation of tingling, as though she were scratching, massaging, bringing to the surface powerful endorphins. In the process, there was another lighter pressure on my chin, a tap, as though someone were holding my face in her hand. Brigid kissed me on the lips and pressed her forehead to mine and I felt real peace. And then, finally, the silk of arms around me, ultimate embrace, and in my mind I leaned into Danu my mother while she held me, and in my mind I heard the sounds of a river rushing and trees singing. My pentacle pendant was warm against my breast, the pendant I had anointed with blood and charged under every phase of the moon soaked in powders of dragon's blood, patchouli, white sage, black salt, and crushed amber. The pendant that created the bond that had caused the Morrigan to claim my blood, Danu to claim my heart, Brigid to claim my mind. Danu will always be my matron, but the others are not far, never.

I woke up -- I must have been asleep -- in time for my stop. Adam had asked me to come to Charlotte and Billy's house. So I am here at their house. I am waiting for food delivery. I will be having a pizza with black olives, and garlic bread.

While I had walked the twenty minutes to the house, my skin had positively flared with magic. Sometimes I don't know how to properly keep my shields in place. The air around me was singing.

Serenity.

Have no place I can be since I found Serenity. But you can't take the sky from me.
Thank you, Joss Whedon.