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Posted in Uncategorized

Reasons I’m Not a Professional Comedian.

Some days I think to myself, “Why did I never pursue comedy? I could have definitely been a comedian.” And then there are days where I look back at conversations I’m currently having:

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Comedy gold, amiright?

Both my therapist and the dietitian at the Eating Recovery Center constantly tell me I should do stand-up. And to that I say these excuses:

  1. I’m just really lazy.
  2. I’m only funny in conversation, not if I have to sit and think of ways to be funny.
  3. I pee my pants fairly easily if scared.
  4. Seriously… I do.
  5. I would be down to be the funny sidekick in a move/tv show. But standing in front of drunk people at a club? Well wait… I do get quite the response when I rap Ice, Ice, Baby at a karaoke bar… hang on…

Listen, I used to dream of being on MadTV/SNL. But I just don’t have that drive those people do. Read Amy Poehler’s book, Yes Please. You’ll read how hard she worked for that and you’ll be like… Tabitha’s right, she’d never make the effort. It would require her to put on pants. 

And to that I say:

RIGHT?

So instead you guys are stuck reading my HILARIOUS blog posts. Sucks for you!

Tab OUT

Tab back in for a minute. In answer to the question I know you’re asking: Yes, yes you read that right. My friend and I are going to see a Hanson concert next month. No, we don’t know why. We just are. WE. JUST. ARE.

Okay. Now Tab OUT.

 

Posted in Uncategorized

Grief is Weird and Annoying.

August 16th marks one year since my mother was declared dead. One year since I had to make a lot of decisions I didn’t want to make and a year since I stood next to her bed and held her hand as a man I didn’t know pulled a plug that ended her life officially. A year since I signed a paper giving him permission to do so.

That’s a really weird and depressing paragraph, but it is what it is.

I never really mourned my mom’s death this past year. I cried, sure, but I cried more because I was shockingly overwhelmed. Then I cried because I felt so guilty that I wasn’t crying and that guilt was eating away at me. I cried because when it was all said and done, the memorial service was over, and people stopped checking on me, I just went on with my life. My therapist, and really everyone, assured me that grief is different for literally every single person. There is no wrong way to grieve.

My year of grief made me envious and hateful. I got mad at people who were able to mourn my mom to the degree that I thought was ‘appropriate’. I hated myself for not mourning the way I wanted to. I’m envious because they were able to find words to express themselves, I’m envious that they were able to focus on the happy times while I was stuck holding on to all the ways that my relationship with her wasn’t perfect, wasn’t all happy. I was angry at myself for being a person who had to spend the past year forgiving someone who isn’t even here anymore, someone who isn’t around to hash it all out with, who isn’t here for me to yell and scream at.

I wish she was here.

You see, my grief wanted me to focus on all the bad instead of the good because it’s so much easier to be mad than to be sad. It’s so much easier to think of all the ways she wronged me, instead of all the ways I miss her. I don’t really miss the mom of my childhood, because our relationship was so far from good. There were a lot of fights, a lot of tears, and a lot of bad memories. But I miss the mom of my adulthood fiercely.

I miss the woman who became Nana to my son. She always said that he was the reason she was still alive. And I’ll admit, her love for him made me jealous. She loved him more than I’ve ever seen her love anyone. Openly. She loved all of us children, I am certain of that, but it was never a wide-open-display kind of love. Kiddo got that instead. I miss that. I miss seeing her with him. I miss seeing this woman she’d become when he was around, someone who was so giddy and happy and proud. I miss his Nana.

This has been one of the hardest years of my life. The hardest. It started with me losing my mom, then me accepting my infertility once and for all, to me going back on medication for depression for the first time in 6 years, to me checking into a program for an eating disorder. I’m exhausted. So exhausted. And lucky for me, with exhaustion has come my grief. My grief has finally arrived in the past week or so and I’m annoyed.

Funny how that works, right? Here I was practically begging for grief for a year, I finally get it, and now I’m pissed. It was so much easier to just not actually grieve the way I wanted. It was so much easier to not be a blubbering mess. Can’t I just go back to that?

I know I’m super open on this blog. I’m actually really happy that I am. But I feel weird about posting this, I’ll be honest. It’s very raw. I want to make sure as you finish reading this that you know I have loved my mom every single day of my life. Even in the bad times. I want you to know that I’m aware no one is perfect, that even I made mistakes in our relationship. I want you to know that I’m worried everything I wrote is going to come out wrong and someone is going to hurt from it. That’s not my intention. I just want to be real, to be raw. I want to everyone to know that grief really is completely different for everyone and that it really is okay. You aren’t alone if you aren’t grieving when you feel like you should be. You aren’t alone if you’re the opposite and can’t get out of bed because it’s simply too damn hard. You aren’t alone if you are somewhere in the middle. You aren’t alone.

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xo

Tab

Fell free to like/share/comment/buy me chocolate…

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized

Teddy, The Bear Without a Nose.

When we adopted Kiddo, I wracked my brain trying to think of all the things I wanted to do to celebrate his new life with us being officially official. We threw a party and made a big deal out of the whole shabang.

My mom was so in love with Josiah, I actually had to tell her that she had to reign the gifts in once she found out we were getting to be his forever family. I remember that we were walking around the mall one day right after his adoption and my mom asked if we could take him to Build-A-Bear. I had never been to BAB before and I didn’t get the hype. It’s just a stuffed animal, dude. What’s the big deal?

Little did I know that not only would BAB become an adoption day tradition for our family, but that dang bear would be a family member that comes everywhere we go, even 3 years later.

BAB is an important part of Kiddo’s adoption day. Why? Well at BAB you adopt the dang animal! It’s a whole special thing. And you kiss the heart that’s inside. Teddy’s heart was kissed by Kiddo and my mom. The other ones (years 1&2 are kissed by me, Hubs, and Kiddo) This opens up a big conversation between our family every year about how he was adopted and how we promised to take special care of him, just like he promised to take care of his special animal he adopted.

The first few months we had Teddy, little 2 year old Kiddo chewed his nose off. Every year when we bring him along to BAB for adoption day (Josiah insists it’s Teddy’s adoption day too. He gets a new accessory and everything. I don’t want to talk about it.) The staff offers to replace poor Teddy’s nose. Josiah and I are very passionate about the fact that Teddy is perfect just the way he is.

As we approach Kiddo’s third adoption day anniversary on Monday, Teddy is even more special. Teddy is filled with a heart containing a kiss from my mom and this is our first adoption day without her. In fact, last adoption day was the very last time I saw her, spoke to her, heard her voice.

Next week is going to be a little rough, but I’ll get through it. I just hope Kiddo is willing to let me sleep with Teddy. That wouldn’t be weird, right?

Posted in messy mama

What a week without my child has taught me…

Well first off, it taught me I quite enjoy not answering 68 questions before noon. That’s for sure.

Kiddo went to spend the week with his grandparents and I was supposed to spend that week relaxing and soaking in every dang second of him not being home. I was supposed to get to do things I don’t normally get to do, like go to a late movie, date my husband, get a sudden urge to go to Walmart at midnight… I was pumped and ready to party. Obviously. 

Instead I spent 90% of that week wallowing in deep depression. The other 10% was certainly spent with my husband and wonderful, but for the most part I just sat and cried or had anxiety attacks. (the upcoming anniversary of my mom’s death isn’t helping anyone here.)

What it taught me is that I need that kid more than I ever realized I did. Without him, I won’t get up in the morning. Without him, I spend the day lost and in some kind of daze. Without him, I’m a version of myself I haven’t seen in a long time.

A common myth is that with depression medicine, you don’t have spells like that anymore. That’s most certainly not true. I definitely still have spells like this, the meds are just keeping me from the very dark side of it. A place I’ve been before. That’s what the meds are doing. They aren’t stopping my problems or my life, they’re giving me a life.

Kiddo is the reason I get up in the morning, he’s the reason I’m a person. I found that without him, I would wait until about 10 minutes before I had to leave to be somewhere to wake up. I wouldn’t shower, I would barely get dressed, and I would spend the following 10 minutes trying to talk myself out of whatever it is I had to do.

You see, four year olds don’t give you that option. A four year old will get up before the crack of dawn whether you want him to or not. A four year old will make sure you’re up as well AND he will make sure that you won’t be getting away with cancelling whatever it is that you had planned for the day. He’ll make sure you’re so exhausted in the 30 minutes since starting the day, that you take a shower just to get 30 seconds of peace while he’s singing the Rescue Bots theme song. He doesn’t give me the option to cry all day, not that I don’t want to, but my desire to not have to explain why I’m crying leaves me able to hold it in til bedtime or save it for a trip to the bathroom to breakdown during the day.

What it also taught me is that I miss him when he’s not here. Kiddo is an only child, so it’s very hard for us to miss each other because we spend EVERY WAKING SECOND with just each other and frankly we are both sick of each other’s voices. So when he was given the opportunity to spend a week with someone other than me, he was trying to pack his bag faster than I was! But I actually missed him more than I thought I would. I realize that makes me sound like a terrible mother, but it’s the truth. 

That doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly not annoyed with his 98 questions that are all the same, just worded differently. Everything’s still the same… I just have a newfound respect for that kid and I’m so much more thankful for him. Because without him, I’m a mess. With him I’m a mess too, but you know… just like… more showered.

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Posted in messy month

My Messy Month [August 2017]

It’s August.

I have not been looking forward to this month at all. Don’t get me wrong, typically it’s a fun month for us because it includes Adoption Day! We celebrate by going to Build-A-Bear and letting Kiddo adopt a new friend/family member and then we go out to eat somewhere fun! But last year August took a dark turn. Last year’s adoption day was the very last time I talked to my mom. Two days later she was pronounced dead, on the same day that one of my childhood best friends died the year before. The 16th of August is a rough day, y’all. Maybe don’t try to contact me that day? Probably for the best. Or send me chocolate. Well, wait. It’s Texas. Chocolate will melt. You know what? JUST BRING ME BOOZE. Or come cry with me and eat ice cream out of the carton. Whatever.

Let’s get to it, shall we? Normally I show you my chalkboard, but frankly I don’t have a lot planned this month, so it looks super boring. Instead, I present you with my planner:

Gah, I love this thing. It’s the Faith Edition of Happy Planner. [insert heart eye emoji] At the beginning of each month, I sit down and write a prayer list, birthdays, things I’m grateful for, spiritual goals, a verse for the month, and more! It’s one of my favorite things to do!

I actually don’t have a “What I’m Reading” for the month, because I’m going to focus on getting a lot of work done, as well as a lot of personal writing. Doesn’t mean I won’t be reading at all (let’s be real), but it’s not going to be my main focus for the month.

The month of August also brings my “#messygraces” challenge! My challenge is that everyone get a special journal and sit down at the end of every day this month and write down three things you are able to give yourself grace for that day. I struggle with beating myself up all day over the smallest things, ex. skipping the gym. So instead, I’m trying to learn to give myself grace for the small things I view as “failures”, when they really aren’t. It’s okay to “fail” at some things every day. It’s totally normal, and human, and you know… not a big deal. (easy for me to say, not actually believe.)

I’m using a super sweet journal my friend Lindsey gave me. Eating disorder recovery has been a huge struggle for me and I’ve wanted to quit a thousand times. And then I have wonderful friends who surprise me out of the blue with wonderful presents like this that make it so much easier to make it through the day.

Here are my graces for today. As much as I wanted to make today’s page super cute since I was sharing it on the blog, I’m also tired and lazy and get off my back, okay?

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I’d love to see your journals! Upload them on Instagram or Facebook and use “#messygraces” so I can find them! (You don’t have to share your personal graces, I just want to see your cute journals!) Don’t have a journal? That’s totally okay with me. Grab a sheet of paper, a napkin, your hand. Write your grace all over your body, I don’t care.

Like/Comment/Follow/SHARE!

xo

Tab

 

Posted in recovery

#messygraces

Do you ever feel like you are a super big failure and nothing you do is right and then you spend the whole day just mentally beating yourself up about all the things you did that were horrible that day? Hmm? No? Mmkay, go head and keep rubbing that in my face then, thanks. 

So here’s the thing, I do that. I do that so much. But not about things you think I would. I mean, I do for all those things too, but I also do it about an ill-timed joke, the possibility that someone might have taken something I said wrong, not doing something the way I had planned, forgetting to do something, etc. So ridiculous, but gives you a glimpse into why my self esteem is so bad… I never give myself a second to think positive thoughts because I’m so busy beating myself up.

(completely unrelated – I’m watching Raven’s Home on Disney and I forgot how much Raven’s facial expressions crack me up.)

So, at recovery the therapist asked us to start a journal where we give ourselves three graces every day. Something that we can look back on the day and be like “….eh, I kind of beat myself up about that and I should have given myself grace instead because I’m human and humans do things and that’s life and let’s move on, mmkay?”

Yeah, all of that. And when she gave us this assignment I rolled my eyes and loudly went, “UUUGGGHHHH” But then like… I did the homework because I’m a rule follower and obviously the best person in the world. And it turns out… I really love doing this. I really love looking back at my day and telling myself, “Dude, you’re totally going to be okay and people make mistakes. And chances are that you can’t really read people’s minds like you think you can and maybe everyone isn’t spending their whole day thinking about how you ruined their lives.” 

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So after saying all that, I’m challenging you to start doing this for yourselves if you struggle with self-esteem and guilt all the time. I’m giving you plenty of notice so that you can go out and find a super sparkly notebook to do this in and start August 1st. Can you handle that? It’s like a whole weekend AND a Monday. I got one at Walmart for like $2. And I want to see it. You don’t have to share the personal graces if you don’t want, it could just be a pic of your journal, but I want to see if you’re joining in on this! Use the hashtag – #messygraces

I’ll remind you August 1st, obviously, because I’m bossy. I’m excited to see how our lives improve when we can give ourselves more grace every day.

xo
Tab

P.S. The Emoji Movie is a beating. Don’t do it. DON’T. DO. IT.

Posted in recovery

Hey, You’re A Jerk!

I already wrote this post once and then accidentally deleted it. Then I spiraled into a fit of rage and things got weird.

Anywaaaaays… I’m back.

I have quite a message to share tonight, folks. Gather a notebook and a pen and get ready to take some notes. Make sure you’re prepared for bullet points, diagrams, equations… It’s about to get real serious up in here. (huuurrr?) Here we go:

I AM SELFISH. 

I know. I’m shocked too. And get this, you’re selfish too. And kind of a jerk. Or so I’m told, you can take that up with someone else. #notmyproblem

“Warren, where is all this hostility from?” WELL, first off, my name isn’t ******* WARREN. And second, I went to a bible study tonight (she says after she just insulted her entire following). Tonight’s topic was the story of the falling of the walls of Jericho. But the main thing that stuck out to me is what was said, “If you’re focusing on your circumstance instead of God, then you’re going to worry and become weak.”

I have been doing just that, focusing on me and my own circumstances. I’ve been complaining and pouting about having to go to recovery. I’ve been joking around in therapy sessions instead of paying attention and basically just dragging my feet through this whole thing BECAUSE MY LIFE IS JUST TOO DAMN HARD. See? Selfish. We all do that, not just me. It’s natural that we would all focus on ourselves first before branching out. (See? Told you that you were a jerk.)

I come from a Christian house, a Christian private school upbringing, I go to church (almost) every Sunday, and I pray every night before bed. But guess what? That little checklist means nothing if I’m not even practicing what I preach. (Also, you don’t have to do all those things to serve a mighty God.) How can I be so quick to tell my testimony of how God has changed my life in a thousand ways, but then not trust Him to handle this? Why have I let this “problem” become harder than all the others? Which, if we look at all I’ve been through… this is small potatoes. (Is that the saying? I’ve literally never said that before)

I’ve stopped reading my Bible, I’ve stopped paying attention to studies, I’ve even stopped really praying at night (just dragging my feet through it). I’ve been selfish and I’ve been a jerk. And I’m done. I’m done thinking about only myself. I’m done fighting off the help He’s literally thrusting at me. I’m done.

When I step back and look at all that’s happened these past 3 weeks of therapy, I can see what amazing people He has been filling my life with. He’s given me friends, new and old, who have been giving up chunks of their days to watch my kiddo so I can get my help. And when I feel like a horrible burden on them, I’m greeted with flowers when I pick my kid up.

By a friend who agreed to watch him at 10pm the night before I needed her because of a babysitting emergency. I’m blessed.

When I feel suicidal and tell my therapy group, the following session is all about self esteem and our exercise involves us telling one another things we love about each other.

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And the suicidal fog starts to lift a little more each day and it’s followed by a bible study I didn’t even really want to go to because I was tired, where I hear a talk on how God has amazing things planned if I would just “shut up and march until I have enough faith to shout”. Instead of fighting. Instead of complaining.

Since I was 17, I have felt compelled to tell my story. I’ve felt like I just had to own it and share it. And so here I am, I’m telling you it all. Everything.

I’m a mess. And it’s totally okay… because you are too.
…ya jerk. 

xo
Tab

P.S. Bonus points if you can tell me what the Warren reference is from.

Posted in recovery

Not Today, Satan

Hey y’all.

Lately my depression has been fiercely fighting to pull me under. Some days I’ve let it completely consume me and other days I’ve been able to put on a happy face and make it through. The past couple of days have been pretty bad, but today I’ve focused on trying to mentally create a list of reasons to live/things that I love and make me happy.

So, since I know you spend all day thinking about me and what makes me happy, I present to you:

Tabitha’s List of Happy Crap:

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It makes me happy that I’ve started wearing make up again. I’ve spent many years not giving a crap what I look like and hating looking in a mirror. But lately I’ve been trying to find ways to make myself want to look in the mirror, make up is a fun way to do so!

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Face masks. My friend Katie sends me a pic like this about once a week. So I finally did one today and I loooove it. It smells so good. SO GOOD. I don’t even care if the face masks actually “illuminates”. I just am happy to smell this for 20-30 minutes.

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Golden Girls quotes in my kitchen. Enough said.

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Speaking of my kitchen, I’m making muffins. MUUUFFFIIINNNSS.

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I love doing my transcription work at the library while my kiddo is at school. Leaves time for me to relax at night. (instead of doing the work at night like I usually do) Not to mention the AWESOME unicorn lunchbox. I mean, come on.

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Goddaughter snuggles and sleepovers. Those are the best. (only pic of a goddaughter without a face in it. haha I don’t need their cuteness stealing MY FAME. GAH.)

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Flowers. The yellow ones were brought to me today very unexpectedly by my sweet friend KC. She knew I’d been having a crappy time because she babysits kiddo on Monday nights while I go to Recovery. It took everything to not have a mental breakdown in her living room when I picked him up the other night, but she could tell I was not okay. So flowers were a wonderful surprise.

And not pictured: The surprise dinner that was brought to me tonight when my goddaughter arrived. Chili. MY FRIENDS BROUGHT ME CHILI. (it’s one of my favorite things ever, just so you know.)

Those are just some of the things I’ve thought of today. Obviously there are a thousand other reasons to live and other things that make me happy. Like my husband, my child, my family…

…but let’s be honest, they’re boring. (buh dum bum chaaa)

What things do you love that help get you through the bad days? Let me know so I can try some!

As always, feel free to like/share/follow/bring me candy.

xo

Tab

Posted in recovery

A Binge Eater’s Review of ‘To The Bone’.

First off, every time I type bone, I first spell it ‘boan’. What’s that about?
Second, and most important, I must state that this post describes eating disorder behaviors and a review of a movie that focused on eating disorders. I am not trying to trigger anything in anyone. ❤

Okay, so Netflix released a movie on Friday called To the Bone. (seriously, boan again.) When I first saw the preview for this movie, I hadn’t yet fully admitted to having an eating disorder, and was really shocked when I had the reaction that I did to it. I became extremely uncomfortable and anxious and wanted Hubby to turn the preview off. I had no idea why I was so triggered by that preview, especially since the main focus was Anorexia, and that’s not something I suffer from. That was actually the start to what is now me treating my disorder. (among many other events that happened all at once.)

I saw that the movie was released and for some reason I just really wanted to watch it. So after a wonderful (and successful non-binging) night of dinner at a friend’s house, I curled up on the couch with my husband and turned it on. I became very, very nervous before it even started. I just didn’t know what to truly expect, but I started to remember how the preview made me feel.

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So here’s where I’ll say that this movie was funny. That is the truth. I cracked up a few times. While watching it, I wasn’t triggered. Again, WHILE WATCHING IT I wasn’t triggered. I actually spent the whole time being like, oh, this is totally fine. IT’S A TRAP, Y’ALL. Unfortunately when it was over, that’s where the real “fun” began. Suddenly I busted into tears and started having obsessive thoughts and memories enter into my head. I started “body checking” myself and the self-loathing set in. Then, I realized that they very much did not use the opportunity to really focus on a much needed look at ALL eating disorders, just anorexia and slightly bulimia. Binge eating was “there”, but basically ignored and wrongfully depicted. I was actually shocked because I read that the movie was made by people that struggled with eating disorders…. so I was so confused how they could leave so much out and show so much wrong. (Now, here’s where I say that everyone obviously has different experiences. I can’t speak for every single person that has a disorder and I’m certainly not the boss of how anyone’s opinion should be on this movie)

Then I started remembering that I hated my body/myself so much growing up that I would actually pray to God and ask him to give me the ability to be anorexic. I viewed anorexia as something to be admired. Those people had such amazing will-power. I didn’t view them as people with a serious deadly disease, I viewed them as strong. And I hated myself for not being like them. I hated myself for not being strong enough to resist food, because believe me… I tried.

It has been about 14 hours since I watched the movie and my mind is still in “obsessive mode”. I’ve weighed myself several times (yes, I found the scale) and I’ve body checked obsessively. I’ve talked down to myself and it’s been bad. I’m working on distraction, but mostly I’m working on telling you what having an eating disorder is really like. 

I was actually extremely proud of my husband as he watched it. When they showed how the parents were treating her disease, he was shocked and said, “Those parents are in desperate need of a support group”. Which yes, my husband has attended for me.

I loved what the Alliance for Eating Disorder Awareness posted on Facebook:

An overwhelming number of 30 million Americans are currently battling eating disorders. With that number continuing to grow, eating disorders have become a nationwide crisis. The 2017 Netflix film, To The Bone, details the story of a young woman battling this serious mental illness. While the film has sparked a very important (and much needed) conversation around a frequently stigmatized and misrepresented illness, The Alliance for Eating Disorders Awareness understands that the film can be triggering for some viewers and would like to stress several key facts about eating disorders.

1. Eating disorders are biopsychosocial illnesses. 
2. Eating disorders are NOT a choice and do not discriminate between race, gender, age, socioeconomic status, body size, or sexual orientation. 
3. Individuals struggling with eating disorders are neither childish nor cowardly. They are struggling with a serious and potentially fatal mental illnesses.
4. Families are not to blame and family members can, and often do, have an important role in supporting individuals on their journey to recovery.
5. Proper treatment needs to be conducted by specialized professionals in appropriate facilities with clinical oversight and monitoring. 
6. The treatment of eating disorders requires a multi-disciplinary team specialized in eating disorders including: primary therapist, family therapist, registered dietitian, medical doctor, and often a psychiatrist.
7. Essential ethics and boundaries between clients and clinicians must be maintained for health and safety. 
8. Recovery is rarely, if ever, an epiphany. The recovery process is not linear.
9. Ambivalence is common in eating disorder recovery, especially in the early stages. It does not preclude treatment from having beneficial or positive effects. 
10. With access to proper care, complete recovery is possible!

For more information about eating disorders, please contact The Alliance at 866.662.1235 or www.allianceforeatingdisorders.com. For help finding specialized treatment, please visit www.findedhelp.com.

Nine Truths about Eating Disorders – https://www.aedweb.org/…/171-9-truths-about-eating-disorders

So, do I recommend the movie? Eh… not really. Definitely not if you have triggers towards an eating disorder.

Do I like that this movie is opening more and more discussion about eating disorders? YES. YES I DO.

Don’t get me wrong, the movie made me laugh (and not just at Keanu’s crappy acting). But as someone who is currently in a lot of emotional and mental pain… I’m not a huge fan. Do I hate you if you already watched it, or plan to watch it anyway? Uh… heck no. Go for it. If I read this same blog, I still probably would have watched it. I’m someone who just has to know what everyone is talking about. haha. No shame.

I just wish someone would have pointed out this girl’s eating disorder when she was a kid… because she’s had it for 25 years… I wish someone would have told her that she wasn’t just a fat failure, that she had a serious mental disorder and she needed to seek proper treatment. I wish someone would have spoke up without making her feel like she was never going to get better. I wish that 25 years later, she wasn’t such a pro at lying and denying her disorder. I wish she would have been strong enough to admit she needed help when her therapist pointed it out a year ago. I wish so many things for her… but now she’s finally where she needs to be. (I’ll stop talking in third person) I can’t go back and change my life, unfortunately, but I can accept the life I do have. I can accept my disorder and I can recover from it. It’s not going to be at all easy, but it is possible.
IT IS POSSIBLE TO RECOVER. 

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Seek help. You are not alone and you are not a failure. Get the help.
It’s okay to get the help.

xo
Tab

Feel free to like/share/comment/follow! ❤

Posted in recovery

I’m pretty important, soooo….

What’s that? Two posts in a row? YEAH. Wanna know why? Because I spent the whole day caring about myself. And guess what? It inspired me to share. ❤

So, before you run off and tell your BFF that I’m “super self-obsessed and kind of a jerk”, which is still pretty true, just know that the eating recovery center gave me the challenge of focusing on “self care” today, instead of spending all of my free time becoming overwhelmed by all the things I’m “supposed to do”.

I don’t know about you, but when I want to relax… all I can focus on is the the stuff that needs to be done instead. I’ll sit down, flip on Netflix, and instead of paying attention to what’s actually going on, I only think, “I should really be starting a load of laundry right now…” And then I go through a whole list of all the ways I’ve failed at using my time wisely that day and end up just going to bed feeling like I’m just one big screw up. You know, after I eat everything in my pantry and fridge because life is too hard to actually deal with. And then I go to my therapist and cry about how I never have time to do anything for myself and the whole world feels like it’s closing in on me and really can someone else just be in charge or something?

So, today was my day. Kiddo was at his summer school program and so even though I should have done a thousand other things today, I chose to ignore all of them and just do things I wanted to do and not feel guilty about ignoring all my responsibilities for just one day.

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So I started the day by taking kiddo to school late, because we certainly do NOT wake up before 7:00 on my special selfish day, thankyouverymuch. Then I went to the little bakery here in town and got a white chocolate mocha and sat in the outdoors (which isn’t too hot at 8am, thank the Lord) and I read a book for an hour. (I may or may not have gotten a chocolate croissant too, whatevez.)

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Then I went to my regular (not ED related) therapist for an hour and basically had my second mental breakdown in a 24 hour period, thus proving the self-care day is super needed. Also, I might have hugged him several times during the hour. God bless that very patient man.

And then off to the gym, to which I will spare you the very sweaty picture that went to my accountability group. But I definitely started perking up after the gym. I always hated people who were like, “OMG! I can’t live if I don’t start my morning at the gym! I crave it!” just….ew. But also like… I get it.

Then I came home, took a shower, put on pajamas at noon, and then curled on the couch read a lot more. I also will admit to doing a load of laundry, but this girl needed pants. And no matter how selfish of a day I’m having, I’m pretty sure Kiddo’s school won’t let me pick him up without pants on. But if you know anything about me, you’ll actually find out I love doing laundry. Hanging it up/putting it in drawers? No. But folding hot laundry from the dryer? YEEEESSSSS.

Once I had proper pants/$2 shorts from Walmart on, I got kiddo and met up with my new friend Liz and her kiddo to watch Despicable Me 3 and then go to dinner! (not including picture of Liz, because she’s awesome and SHE’S MY FRIEND SO BACK OFF.)

Then I came home and shoved that cute little sucker of a child into bed and busted out a coloring book, my favorite TV show and found the page in the book that looked most like a drawing of myself…

OH OH! And I got this fun book at Half-Price Books a few days ago and I busted it open tonight and did one of the exercises. So much fun! And definitely inspired me!

Also… can’t forget ending the day with chocolate milk…

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I was given the cup, y’all. I would never own a cup with a curse word on it. … never. *cough* And yes, yes I am wearing a Power Rangers shirt. I’m an adult, clearly.

SO. How do you do self-care? Seriously, let me know in the comments.
And as always, feel free to like/share/comment/give me a book deal.
You know, whatever.

xo
TAB