insomnia: again? really?!

so. sitting on the couch in the living room. eleven ferrets wrecking havoc on the house. three in the kitchen. eight in the living room. and i can't sleep. one attacking my slipper. it's not doodle. it's cass. holy fucking hell. i know, it's obvious why i can't sleep: there's eleven ferrets tearing ass around the house making noise and trashing the place. that's not it. i'm not sure why i'm not sleepy. i thought i would be. work has been a steady pace lately. and sometimes emotionally challenging. it's tough being big brother and telling people they messed up. it's even more difficult having to tell someone that no, you won't change your mind, and try to nicely get them out of your cube so you can leave work on time.

but i'm actually very content, work life aside. fry and i have a nice home with our furkids. now and again when the temps are decent at night and the bugs're scarce we'll have a bonfire out back and make s'mores. we are very much into cuddling on the couch and watching netflix streaming through my wii. lately we've been on an xfiles kick. (i'm an xfiles junkie from way back so i like to skip around and watch my favorite episodes...currently the rain king...fry is an xfiles newbie so when we watch together we have started from the beginning).

there is a lot on my mind lately. i've finally come to terms with the fact that i very much do have trouble with collecting things. i think i've known it for a long time. and it's something that i've been working on with my therapist for the past few months. part of it is i have a very good memory. i can look at a knick knack and i remember who gave it to me and why they gave it to me. and then i feel immense guilt if i think about giving it away/throwing it away/donating it. as if that person may be hurt that i didn't hang onto whatever it was they gave me. it's not that i'm a spoiled princess and ungrateful for the thought. i very much am grateful to be the recipient of the gift. and most times i've gotten quite a bit of use out of the item it's just that it is now something that i have outgrown the use for. or else, i see something and think "well, i should get rid of X because i don't need it." but then i start thinking about how useful X item would be in Y situation. and then i keep it because otherwise if i have to buy whatever X is later down the line to do Y job then i'll be upset that i didn't keep the previous X item that i had. i grew up very very poor and so i can't stand to see something go to waste or waste my money.

in addition to having extreme issues parting with belongings i also have an extremely hard time passing up a deal. if i see something for 90% clearance at target i'll stock up, even if it's something like burnt orange pillar candles which i have no need for in the near, or even foreseeable, future. i keep a box of "gifts" in case i need to randomly give something to someone. all items that i got on massive clearance and i've stock piled. ugh. stock pile. that's a phrase that gives me the heebees, the geebees, shivers, and dry heaves all at the same time.

my dad used to get mad at my mom for "stock piling" food on the shelf we had in the basement. he'd get mad that she would squirrel away extra food. and in a way i did too. but i also remembered that day from my childhood. all the cabinets open. the fridge too. my mom crying because we had no food at all in the house and my siblings and i were hungry. something like that makes an impression on you. for me it instilled a deep fear of being hungry. or, of not having food. so when i see chef boy ardee on sale 10 for $10 i want to fill my cart with mini lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, and beef raviolis because then maybe i'll feel safe.

when i go grocery shopping i'm so tempted to use my coupons and the sale ad to fill my cart. even though the cupboards at home are literally stuffed and nearly over flowing with food. fry tells me we have enough. that we have more than enough. that i don't need to buy so much. we're only two people. he reminds me we should work through what we have at home before we get new stuff because otherwise we will wind up throwing stuff away. i nearly threw a fit when he suggested i give some of my scooby gummies and fruit by the fruits to his friend's three year old kid (yeah, me throwing a fit over gummies is a WHOLE other issue in the realm of beckah & her dysfunctional relationship with food). in the end i did give 1/3 of my gummies away to fry's friend's kid, and another 1/3 to my friend april's little girl. but that took SO much of my will power and strength in order to do that. i know. it's ridiculous. and at the same time it filled me a bit with a sense of panic.

i decided today to sell some of my stuff on ebay. the stuff that maybe i can make a buck or two off of instead of donating. i was all set to donate it. but fry suggested we try selling it instead. some backpacks that are in excellent shape, it's just that i don't need them. seriously, how many backpacks does one adult REALLY need? in a way it was easier on me to decide to give them away than sell them. isn't that odd? and i know i have some furbies in the garage. those should sell on ebay too. maybe this will be another small forward step in recovery? cleaning and getting rid of stuff is empowering. but it's also SO scary for me. so very very scary. then again. didn't i just say i was ready for scary? that i am welcoming it with open arms and want to face the scary all on my own? well. i'm thinking maybe i shouldn't be completely on my own. maybe i do need some help. just a wee bit of emotional support from friends and family. i'm still resolved to quit therapy. or rather, bring my need for it to an end. but, that doesn't mean i can't lean a little on those who love me. showing weakness. asking for help. those are positive steps for me.

recap on my kayaking trip (july 8-11th)

the trip was challenging. i am NOT in anyway an outdoor kind of girl. even though i went to burning man, and would go again, SO not an outdoorsy girl. i like my running water. i like my pillow top mattress with the feather bed on top of it. my flush toilet. my snoogle. my ferrets. all those things that create my nice cushy life.

with that being said. i did have a blast on the trip in terms of the social aspect. it was really nice being around other people who have their own challenges with food. i was tempted to say "who have an eating disorder" and erased that to then write "who struggle with an eating disorder" however i don't want anyone to see just my illness when they see me. i want them to see ME first, and then later maybe my struggles. or, preferably, how i overcome my struggles.

before the trip i was freaking out. pretty hard core freaking the EFF out on the inside, and doing a fair amount of verbal freaking out. fry and i were discussing it one night after i found out after i was accepted for the trip and he said "you can always say no, hun." and i did think about it briefly, but going on the trip was kind of a weird dream come true for me. it was free for me, i just had to bring my clothes and personal stuff, but tent, food, transportation was all covered, which is HUGE for me in these difficult economic times. but, also, ever since my BFF from childhood went kayaking with her cousin way back in the day i've been curious about it.

so i pushed aside all my fears, packed up my bags, and went on the trip. what was the biggest struggle for me? honestly, and this may sound lame: battling the urge to over pack. i've discovered recently that i am a first rate pack rat. you know that tv show on a&e called hoarders? well, let's just say that i grew up learning from the best of them (my dad and brother SO could be on that show). and in therapy i've been working on getting over my need to hoard and save stuff. so when packing for the trip i wanted to put all kinds of stuff in my bag that wasn't on the list (an extra pair of shoes, a deck of cards, an extra t-shirt, extra socks....) and all that stuff adds up and pretty soon you're showing up in california with two ginormous suitcases and another two boxes of stuff mailed. oh, wait, that was when i went to burning man! my first proud moment was realizing that i stuck exactly to the list.

now that i've been back at home for two and a half weeks it all feels kind of fuzzy. i'm so glad i went. i feel very empowered and much stronger and better able to handle life and all it's surprises. i'm also feeling like i want to be done with therapy. i'm sick of being the sick girl. i hate having to take FMLA every week to leave for my therapy appointments. i actually talked with fry about it last night and he said he will help me with the nutrition part of it. for his bachelor's degree he majored in kinesiology with a minor in biology, his emphasis was corporate fitness. so, needless to say i'm living with a man who spent four years studying to help people with health, wellness, and fitness. well, i think his exact words were "i can give you a kick in the ass if you need it." the funny part about that is he is a first class hippie and the most non violent person on earth.

plan for nutrition and food support? check. as for the therapy visits? i see my therapist tomorrow night and i'm going to talk to her. i know that for therapists it has to be tough. if they do their job right then people get better and move on. which is great for the patient, not so great for the therapist. i'm kind of guessing my therapist is going to encourage me to not stop therapy just yet.

i spent so much of my early life waiting. and being afraid. and hanging back. i could run but instead i crawled, with fear, not daring to run. and now i just want to run. i want to test out my new self and see if i can handle all the challenges and obstacles and the every day bull shit that comes with living. see if i can do it without dousing my emotions with food. or starving myself so the pain of hunger is more cutting than any emotions i may be feeling. what would life be like to actually allow myself to experience emotions? scary. very very scary. but i think i'm ready for that.

poem- dance party

the following is a poem that i wrote while on my trip to the apostle islands to go kayaking on lake superior.

dance party

i wanted to pause that

moment, wrap it up tightly

for each of us to carry

back with us from our

campsite. snug it in between

our hairbrushes, sunscreen,

bug spray and water bottles.

a strong techno beat rolled

from the van’s speakers as

the twelve of us inside

bounced the vehicle moving

to the beat, energized by

struggles, victories, the water

and air and orange-pink-

red sunset. And then, as if

it had somehow been planned,

others appeared next to our

van arms in the air

feet moving bodies to the

beat. we were conscious

of energy and each other but

not self conscious of our-

selves, our bodies, our demons.

it was just a moment in the

woods of pure abandon and

joy as our group of strangers

found a common love in

the music and the feel of

our bodies moving in the night air

the last time you blogged was when?!

checking my blog i feel rather chagrined and fairly ashamed of the fact that it's been nearly six months since i've blogged. that's a whole half a year. sheesh. yes, there's a whole pile of shame and guilt that goes with that. then again. i tend to have massive piles of guilt and shame associated with a lot of things in my life. so, honestly, that is nothing new.

the past six months have been filled with lots of changes for me. most notably i met a WONDERFUL man that i am totally head over heels in love with. i did make him work hard for it too. it would be an understatement to say that i kept him at arm's length. it was more like arms length plus a dozen or so feet. but he persisted, and gave me my space at the same time, and now we're happily cohabiting with our eleven ferrets.

yes, eleven ferrets. see. i had eight. he had two when he met me. then after meeting me he picked up a third one, so 8+2+1=11. eleven ferrets also equals a fair amount of insanity at our house. there's also a fair amount of poop that goes along with eleven ferrets. but also lots of love, cuddles, dooking, and joy.

so what is this young man's name? well, if you befriend me on facebook you'll know cause we're listed as "in a relationship," or if you talk to me, text me, or stalk me (yes YOU, i saw you in the bushes last night! btw, pick up your PBR cans, we don't want that shit in our yard. please & thank you). but, for now, in blog world, i'll call him fry. i do sometimes call him that in person, and he is cool with that. so we'll see.

let's see. what else. um. i'm vitamin d insufficient. go me. supposed to be at 20 or above and mine is a single digit. and that digit is NOT a 9. but working on that. working on beating my eating disorder into submission. working on staying hydrated. just got back from a weekend trip to the apostle islands with a group from the emily program (where i go for my therapy). the trip was awesome. i'll post more about that along with the poem that i wrote as a result of the trip. um, also working on thesis. working on just in general getting my shit together. so. for now. i'm back to blogging. i've missed it terribly and hope that not ALL my blog readers have forgotten me.

lots of love,
beckah