The alone-ness of PTSD.

The past two weeks have been full of emotions.
Most recently, I went with a friend of mine to have a medical procedure done. The procedure itself was not a huge deal. NOT fun. Definitely not pleasant for anyone. But throw in a little PTSD, and what is mildly uncomfortable for others becomes a traumatizing moment.

I came back from that experience angry. Anger confused me. Angry at what? or who?
Sad and angry that she is having to go through any of this? Yes. What else?
Angry at the fucked up person that abused her? Hell yes!! And there's more.



A week ago, I went with K to her doctor's appointment at the Huntsman Cancer Institute. I don't know how it is other places, but every person who goes through cancer deserves to be treated the way they treated her. Compassionate, professional, knowledgeable doctors and staff. At least two staff recognized her walked up to her in the waiting room to give her a hug and talk to her. The doctors had all been working together and reviewing her scans and files to come up with the best solution for her cancer. BJ and I were in the room with her, plus three people conferenced in on the phone, plus several others who would have been there if she had wanted them there. She was surrounded by amazing and loving support.

I was so glad to see K had all those people and resources. I wish she didn't have to go through this. I love her, and would do anything I could to be helpful, and I was only one of many.


A few days ago, there was a funeral for three beautiful people. The family they left behind were surrounded by love. So many people willing to help, bring food or flowers or heaters, drive shuttles, decorate, offer a hug, a kind note, take pictures, and more that I couldn't even see. It was beautiful to see all of the love, the shared sorrow, and the support.

No one should ever have to go through that kind of loss. No amount of love from people could take the pain away, but there were so many that were willing.


As I sat in the ER with my friend, she tried to explain to the nurse that she had major PTSD.
"What? Were you assaulted or something?" (Just in case anyone is wondering, NOT a very helpful way to word that question.)
My friend asked the doctor for something to calm the anxiety, he offered a small dose of Ativan. He didn't ask what she normally took. He didn't stick around and listen when she tried to explain that Ativan doesn't do much for her.
Twenty minutes later, when the nurse asked if she felt the effects, she said, "No."
The nurse went ahead anyway, and when she saw my friend's tears, said nothing, finished the procedure and ran from the room.

I understand that doctors and nurses have a lot on their plates. These people meant no harm. I understand that my friend probably wouldn't want a room full of support at that moment. (I'm not sure she even wanted me there. I just told her I was coming... and then told the people at the front I wanted to see my sister. She didn't kick me out, so probably okay that I was there.)

It's just... I feel angry and sad that someone with PTSD has to go through it all SO alone.

Typical for me, I wasn't able to put to words the feeling when it was me. Watching someone else go through an experience that is similar to my own, I feel sad for the alone-ness of PTSD.

People don't understand. Doctors, nurses, and professionals don't get it. Most friends and family can't understand what it's like. They can't understand the pain, the confusion, the mixed up ideas, the flashbacks, the nightmares, the loneliness, the depression and anxiety, the guilt, and the shame.

So much shame associated with the abuse and the PTSD itself. I felt like I couldn't let people know what was going on. I didn't want them to think I was crazy, attention-seeking, broken, or screwed up. I couldn't handle the stupid things people would say (Things not to say, Stupid things people say)  - it was better to be alone than to have to take care of someone else when I was hurting.

Flashbacks were so personal and so frightening, I didn't want to go through them alone, and I didn't want to have anyone else around while my body was going through that. I was lucky to have BJ. He seemed to understand what I needed, and just sat with me.

Sexual abuse is so personal, so perverse, and so painful... It's hard to talk about. (Sometimes impossible to talk about.) Even now, I don't like talking about it. I still feel very raw and afraid when I tell someone I was molested or raped. Just those words make me want to crawl in a hole.

(And recovery means you stop talking about it... Why is that?)


I shared some of these thoughts with BJ.
He said he wished he had money like the Huntsman's had money.
He would start a big complex just for PTSD research and treatment. There would be doctors of all kinds who were trained in their specialties as well as in PTSD. The place would feel kind and compassionate, and they'd have an ER. There would be therapists, staff, and caseworkers. 

It would be big enough that the community would get involved. There would be high school choirs singing or guys playing piano in the lobby. And home-made stressballs made by people in the community available to anyone who wanted one.

They would research the brain, and how to overcome the effects of trauma. And have cutting edge treatment and technology to give every person the best chance of not only surviving but living life to the fullest after survival.

They would have a place where someone could go when they couldn't sleep, because it was too hard to stay grounded AND sleep. Staff and therapists willing to just be with someone who is hurting that much.

Most of all, it would be a place where people wouldn't have to feel ashamed. Not of PTSD symptoms. Not of the abuse or trauma. Not of needing extra support or love or attention.

Suddenly, I wish I was a millionaire. I would like to be a part of creating that place.



Until someone has the money to create such a place, what can be done?
Is there anything that can be done, so that people with PTSD don't feel so alone?

I want there to be more that I can do. 

Life and Death. Hope and Sorrow.

I've been on a roller coaster of emotions this past week. I wrote about one of the highs. Today, I'd like to write about the lows.


Last week, I went to visit BJ's sister in Montana. Two hours before BJ and I got there, she got a phone call from her oncologist. It wasn't good news. He said things like
"Stage 4" and
"noncurative" and
"maybe treatment could buy some extra time, but...."

The next few days BJ and I went through the ups and downs and backs and forths with them.
In one of the conversations, she asked what I would do. I told her I would want to LIVE, not just exist. If treatment could only by her more quantity of life, but not quality of life, I wouldn't want that. I would want to live until I die.

She asked BJ what he would do. He said something similar.

Her husband said this seemed to be the less shitty of two really shitty choices. 

We talked about nutrition and natural healing. She has been studying about the power of the body and mind, and asked me if I thought the body could heal itself. ABSOLUTELY. I've experienced the kind of healing that people weren't sure was possible. My broken body and mind has become mostly whole. If I can overcome that, there are so many amazing things that are possible.

When it was just BJ and I, we cried. I felt sad and hopeless.
Both K and R have made me feel loved and accepted. They make everyone feel loved. They deserve to live loving and happy lives. I LOVE being around the two of them, because they are so loving and kind and fun to be with. Their wedding was so healing for me - changed me.

I felt angry that she wasn't getting what I wanted her to have. I felt sadness for her husband. He was so lonely for so many years, and then he finally found K. And now they were going to go through hell together, and for what? She was going to be in horrible pain until she died. How is that fair? He would go back to feeling lonely. My heart ached for him so much, I couldn't handle it.


And then I'd go back to thinking about the amazing machine that our bodies are. The miracles I have seen happen. I'd feel hopeful and scared.

Her oncologist had suggested surgery - even though the way he talked about it didn't make it sound like much of a solution. She decided she wanted to have all of the information from all of the sources she could find before making a decision. She drove back with us to meet with the surgeon in Salt Lake. This doctor had much more confidence in his ability to treat her, and was much more hopeful.

He said things like,
"completely cured"
"do everything you have always loved to do"
"pain and treatment for a year, and then LIFE"

I felt huge relief. She is tough and positive and amazing. A year of hell will be HELL, and it isn't fair, and she doesn't deserve this, and it fucking sucks... and then she can get on living the life she deserves. I will be there to support her any way I can. (Even if it's just swearing in the bathroom with her.) BJ will be there. Her friends, parents, her daughter, her husband's kids, her other siblings and their families... She is SO loved by so many. She'll continue to inspire and touch so many people's lives.



The next day I was out with a friend when BJ called me to tell me that another friend, Jen, had lost her daughter in a car accident. Kel was nine months pregnant with Jen's first grandson. Kel's fiance was also in the car along with their dogs. All of them were killed. In an instant, their little family was just... gone.

As I struggled to find out the details, and learn how Jen and all of Jen's friends and family were doing, my heart ached. I thought of the excitement Jen had felt when Kel got engaged. When she found out she was going to be a grandma. I thought of all the stories I'd heard of Kel. She was passionate about animals. She had a gift for understanding and loving animals that made me want to be like her.

I thought of all the times Jen was there for me. The way she listened and helped me feel loved, the things she taught me about loving myself. It isn't fair that she should have to face such a devastating thing.

Kel's brother posted on Facebook that he'd trade places in an instant.
Jen's best friend, and a dear friend of mine, tried to keep everyone updated on details of what happened and funeral plans. While also feeling her own hurt, and loss, and sadness.
Kel was planning the wedding of her dreams, and now Jen is planning a funeral. Somehow trying to honor the fairy tale day with the end of the fairy tale.


Neither of these stories are mine... but the pain, the loss, the fear, the sadness, the love, the joy, the connection is mine. And I feel a sense of gratitude just being a part of the beautiful parts of humanity. Today I am feeling hopeful for K.  I also feel scared for K and for her husband. I don't know what they will have to go through. I am feeling broken hearted for Jen. I am feeling gratitude for all of the love I have felt from so many. I am in awe of all that is this life.

I don't really have words for all of the emotions that I feel.
Just tears. Many tears. 

Surprise! (So, that's what we'd do in Montana in the winter...)

In October, BJ and I went to visit his sister and her husband in Montana. We had such a great time: We went fishing, watched movies, laughed, and talked. Shortly after we got back, BJ and I started talking about wanting to go back.

In November, he had the thought, "Wouldn't it be fun to go out there and surprise K?"
Brilliant idea, so we started trying to schedule it... Holiday season made work super busy, plus family parties, and all of the other things going on... Talking to her husband, we finally scheduled the visit for January.

In December, she came here for a niece's wedding. We went out to dinner and played games one night while she was here, and I thought I was going to bust. She was trying to convince BJ and I we needed to come visit. He kept telling her there was no way we were going to go to MONTANA in the winter. "What on earth would we do in Montana in the winter?"

"We could go sledding, or build snowmen, or go to a movie, or just hang out and play games and talk. We'd have fun, but I understand if you want to wait until spring to come."

(It's a good thing she wasn't looking at me during this conversation. I couldn't contain my giggles.)

We decided it would be fun to meet her at a restaurant. Her husband would ask her out to dinner, they'd walk in, and we'd just be sitting there waiting. The day before we were supposed to leave, there was a "severe storm warning" in Utah, Idaho, and Montana. BJ and I were stressing about trying to drive in the blizzard conditions they described.

My Facebook status read:
"Blasted winter storm warning! Might make me change my plans, and I don't want to change my plans..."

The only person to respond was K, "What were your plans? Sometimes we have to make new plans, but they can be even better than we originally planned."

It was so perfect. I told her exactly what my plans were:
"Oh, just dinner with some friends... but if the roads are bad, I'll have to reschedule."

The roads weren't good. Kind of scary. But we were too excited to postpone. It took us an extra couple of hours to get there, so R (her husband) had to find reasons to postpone leaving for dinner. (It turns out, that wasn't hard, she got a phone call with bad news at the time they were going to leave.)

We got to the restaurant about ten minutes before they did.
BJ texted her and said, "Just thinking about you. Love you lots."
She texted back, "Love you. So, just what were you thinking?"
"I guess... just that I wish you lived closer. I'd love to give you a hug right now."

She didn't respond to the last text, because they had pulled up to the restaurant.
They walked in, and she just stopped and stared at BJ. She said all that was going through her mind was, "That guy looks just like my brother."
Then she looked at me (I had a camera in my face, to video this reaction.), and thought, "That lady looks just like Jen. What the hell is going on?"

Then R laughed and said, "We've been planning this for months!"
And then there was a bunch of hugging and laughing and crying.

It's been a week and a half, and we've been hanging out and having a blast (and sharing tears and stories, but that's for another post). But I still smile when I picture her face. Feeling pretty grateful to have been part of such a fun thing.

And just for fun, here's pictures: 

Welcome to Montana...

When she finally realized that WAS her brother, and he was in Montana.

This is how we watch football. Poor R was feeling sick, so he didn't even get to see his 49ers play.

They got a little tired and a little bored waiting for BJ and I to see everything we wanted to see in the museum.

Welcome to Montana. Where everyone puts their wipers up at night, so they don't freeze to the windows.

I thought this quote was cool. The museum was amazing... so much to see and learn and talk about.

Today's Prayer

I know YESTERDAY I posted about my family's response to being more open about my life and therefore my friendship with BJ. Today, I'm fighting to keep myself in a healthy place.

Help me remember that I can't control others.
No one needs me to protect their feelings by hiding the truth.
I can't protect everyone, and they wouldn't want me to (really) anyway.
It's none of my business what other people think of me (although I will always try to be aware of how I affect others.)

Help me to trust the people that are closest to me and love me, at least until I can trust myself again. Help me to remember why I want to stop hiding, and why I chose to stop running away.

Help me to find the place of love, rather than fear.
Love for myself. Love for others. Love for the journey I am on.

I feel loved by the people that I love.

BJ spent some of the holidays with my family. I was worried...  I was afraid of questions. (Questions that I don't necessarily know, nor care to explore the answers to.) I was afraid that everyone would push to know what my relationship with BJ is. (I am very happy with what we have, and I don't want to try to define it for anyone else. Labels just make me feel crazy.) I was afraid of judgments. (The word "judgments" doesn't cover all that I was afraid of. I was afraid of my family acting like I've seen others act. Judgmental. Opinionated. Critical. Self-righteous. Controlling. Abusive. Etc.)

I didn't know how they would react, and I was afraid and anxious. I had no reason to be. It turned out so much better than I could have imagined.

They all welcomed him with open arms. He said he felt loved and accepted and comfortable.
(Of course, anyone would have told me I was being silly for feeling afraid. Parents and siblings all know and love BJ. They come to visit. We all hang out. Grandparents came to visit, and then we went fishing. My aunt sent me a text, personally inviting BJ, and my Grandparents have said several times that BJ is always welcome. Still... all evidence aside, I was a tiny bit anxious.) 

At the family Christmas party, we were playing a game, and I drew the question, "What do you like most about the person sitting next to you?" I wondered for a moment if the game was rigged... and then felt grateful that I got to answer that question for everyone to hear... Defining our relationship feels scary and upsetting... Telling people why I love BJ, what I love about him, and why I am glad he is in my life: That is easy and I LIKE doing it.

After the games, we talked with my uncles and aunts about camping trips and fishing trips we've been on, and then about plans for future trips. I felt so comfortable. At home even. We all laughed and told stories, and it was... fun. It turns out, they don't really care what my relationship with him is. Their only care or concern is, "Are you happy?"

The answer to that question is, "Yes," but the answer to that question would have been a "partial yes" if I had had to deal with the questions, the judgments, or any of the things I was afraid of. I know that I'm not supposed to let other people rule my emotions... choose my own happiness and all that... but....

I WANT my family to love and accept me. It's easier to be happy when I have a loving and accepting family. It's easier to be happy when I don't have to choose between what is best for me and what my family wants me to do. It is easier to be happy when they just want me to be happy. I know I can't control that. I know they have every right to think or say or do whatever the hell they want, but the truth is... I want them to love me. I want them to love and accept BJ. I want them to be a part of my life, and I want to be a part of theirs. I want them to know ME, so they can love ME. Pretending that I don't want that, is just plain silly.

There are lots of things in life that I might want that I don't get, and if I didn't get the love and acceptance, I'd deal with that. I might walk away from my family, because if they can't love ME, then what is the point? I might hide from my family, and keep secrets if I thought that is what I needed to do in order to have a relationship with them (and if I thought that was what was best.) I might busy myself making new friends, and create a family of non-relatives. I might insist that it was MY life, and if they wanted me in it, they would accept ME. (And then let them make the choice.) I would do what I had to do... I would find a way to make life worth living, whatever that meant, and I am SO grateful that I don't have to do any of that. I am so grateful that I get to be me, live my life, AND have a loving family.


I feel loved. They don't care what I do, who I live with, what my relationship is... except that they want to know me and be a part of my life.

(Why is it so hard to describe what it is like when people have healthy boundaries that lack judgments? Maybe because the way they acted was healthy and normal, but I'm not used to people being healthy and normal. So, I want to describe the healthy and normal, but it's hard. The ones who know what healthy and normal is don't need the description... and the people who have no clue probably won't understand my descriptions anyway.)

I count myself one of the most lucky people on the planet... I feel loved by the people that I love.

New Years Resolutions I might actually do:

to do list:
1. Make vanilla pudding. Put in mayo jar. Eat in public.
2. Hire two private investigators. Get them to follow each other.
2. Wear shirt that says "Life". Hand out lemons on a street corner.
4. Get into a crowded elevator and say, "I bet you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."
5. Major in philosophy (or psychology works too). Ask people WHY they would like fries with that.
6. Run into a store, ask what year it is. When someone answers, yell, "It worked!" and run out cheering.
7. Become a doctor. Change last name to Acula. (I don't get this one. Feel free to explain it to me if you do.)
8. Change name to Simon. Speak in the third person.
9. Buy a parrot. Teach the parrot to say, "Help! I've been turned into a parrot."
10. Follow joggers around in your car blasting "Eye of the Tiger" for encouragement. (This one is my favorite).

Merry Day After

My "Tuesday with presents" was even better than I could have imagined.

My Christmas tree. With presents under the tree. (They almost all fit.)

I went to my parents house and opened presents with my siblings and parents. It was nice and fun and relaxing. I was given gifts that felt like ME. Every single gift was perfect. I felt very loved. The book  (Elephant Whisperer) from my dad. The DVDs (Wild Horse, Wild Ride and Despicable Me) and dishes (something I've been looking at for a year) from Dann and Justin. The book (Hiking: Ruins Seldom Seen) from Jeff and Robyn. The game (Bananagrams) from Zack and Delta. The ornament (a teddy bear riding a stick horse) from my mom.

I also love watching by family open presents. Jeff gets so excited. I love watching Dann and my mom watch everyone else. I love the looks when someone opens a gift that is perfect. I also love the looks when someone opens a gift that isn't quite perfect, but they try to pretend like it was. I just love seeing everyone just being.

My brother built a fort of presents on top of me. There were more down around my feet.

BJ and I went to see Les Miserables together. I wanted to see the movie with him. I wanted to experience that story with him, because I wanted to talk about it all with him after. When we went to the play, he had a hard time following the story. In the movie, you can see their faces and understand their emotions better. I wanted to watch him watch the movie.

The movie was amazing. I've seen the student version of the play countless times. We went to see the professional version last year. I've listened to the CD a million times and played the music on the piano and in various orchestras. I forgot that I know the music and the story by heart. The actors were so incredible, I felt like I was hearing it all for the first time.

I love seeing movies with him, because of the way he draws parallels to his own life. He learns things everywhere he goes, and he listens when I talk about the things I thought. We sat and talked and cried after the movie. Then he went to spend more time with his kids and grandkids, and I went to visit my grandparents.

We all met back at my parents, and hung out for a little bit, and then he and I came home to open our presents to each other. We had decided we wanted to end the day together... I gave him his presents. He gave me a camera. A really nice one with two different lenses and a ton of camera-y functions. (I don't know the words for everything yet, and I definitely don't know how to use them, but I'm excited.)

He said he's been thinking about this gift for years. He appreciated my eye... the things I see, and he wanted to give me an even better way to capture what I see. I cried. I took out all the pieces: the lenses, the lensehood, the flash, the tripod, the carrying case for it all, the memory card, even the battery and charger, and cried with every piece.

My Christmas tree. After opening presents. It's in there somewhere, I swear.

Then this morning, I woke up and started crying again.
I have never asked for a camera. I love taking pictures. I love sharing the things that I see. I feel like there's a piece of me in every picture I take. We have several of the pictures I've taken hanging on our walls. Horses. Fishing. Mountains. Skies. They aren't bad, but I feel like I was just handed a tool that will make the things I see even more capturable (yeah, I just made that word up). He saw something I wanted, but I didn't even know I wanted it. That feels... good.

I feel SO loved. Not just by BJ. But by my parents and siblings (and their spouses). And Dann. And grandparents. And aunts and uncles and cousins. Sometimes, feeling loved is such a surprise, I feel overwhelmed. I still don't quite know how to handle it.

So, Merry Day After Christmas. Thank you for loving me, and for making the day even better than "just any other Tuesday, except with presents".

What would it look like if you weren't hiding?

There's been a growing frustration in my head.
It started as a nagging in the back of my mind, and has grown just a little each day. It suddenly got huge yesterday. I couldn't put it in words until I was talking to my sister.

She helped me find the words, "I feel like I'm hiding. I don't want to hide anymore."

That prompted a conversation with BJ. I told him what I had felt while talking to Mellen.
"I feel like I'm hiding, and I don't want to hide anymore."

He asked the question, "What would it look like if you weren't hiding? How would things be different?"

Not much. There's not much that would be different on the outside. The difference would be in my head. I spend a LOT of time trying to anticipate how everyone else will feel and what everyone else will do.

If I say this, will it make someone mad?
If I do this, will it hurt or offend someone?
If I do this, will she make life difficult for or hurt someone else I care about?
If I don't do that, will people be disappointed?
If I am this way, how will it affect them? How will that affect others?

So, how would it look if I wasn't hiding?

I'd be less worried, afraid, scared of angering people that will hate me no matter what I do. I'd be less concerned about what labels people attach to me, and just BE me. I wouldn't worry about how anyone else defines me or my relationships and just BE.

And I would just hold BJ's hand whenever we wanted to hold hands.

"At the right time, in the right light, everything looks extraordinary."

BJ and the pelicans.

The neighbors' sprinklers

Them just being them at a lake in Montana. This picture just makes me happy.

My favorite.

Just like any other Tuesday, except there's presents

Christmas. It's a hard time of year for me. I generally like to avoid it.

I haven't had a tree in three years. This year, BJ and I had talked about cutting down tree and having the horses help get it out. We never got the permit, so that didn't happen. Then we talked about buying a tree, but neither one of us have any decorations. No lights. No ornaments. Nothing. (I had a box of ornaments from an ornament exchange, but they got ruined.) We went to various stores (both together and separate) to find Christmas decorations that fit him, me, or us.

I had about given up. And then, by accident, I saw this:

Charlie Brown Christmas tree. With presents (Thanks to BJ's sister.)

I loved it. BJ loved it. It was perfect.
And for a moment, I forgot that I get stressed by Christmas. I got excited. I got all my Christmas shopping done in the next twenty minutes. (I love Amazon.)

Christmas could suddenly be what I wanted. There were no shoulds. No have-tos. No, "If you don't do it the way everyone else does it, there's something wrong with you." Just the question, What do YOU want?, and the answer can be anything.


Since that day, I've gone back to feeling anxious. Afraid I'm not doing it right. Pressured to try to make everyone happy. Depressed. Sad. Overwhelmed. Frustrated with myself for not being "normal". Angry at myself for feeling sad and depressed.

So now, besides my funny little satirical tree, I'd like to make some other changes to my Christmas season. No more anxiety. No more expectations. No more guilt. No trying to make everyone happy. No trying to hang on to "normal".
I'd like to let go of all of that.

Maybe it could just be like any other Tuesday. Except there's presents.

Blerg.

On my mind is Christmas, Pants, tragedies in Connecticut, and a few other thoughts that won't leave me alone.

What's the most important thing to write about?
I don't know.
Which is why I haven't written anything yet.

An exercise in empathy (guest post from a friend)

The following was written by a friend of mine as a response to the church's new website.

From Esteban (a gay ex-Mormon)

"As a heterosexual, you've never had to even think about it. Because heterosexuality has never been deemed sinful in your life, you simply have always had the freedom to express yourself through touch, feel, affection, and sexual expression with anyone of the opposite sex. You've only had to stop yourself from full sexual realization until you were married, assuming you were actually able to do that. In other words, your sexual orientation was never in play as a possible threat to God, only your possible breach of sexual activity outside of marriage.

If your own desire for women/men was deemed a sin, you might begin to empathize with what it's like to be gay. Without telling yourself the story as to why gays are wrong per God's command to multiply and replenish the earth, imagine for just a moment if your desire right now inside you for women/men was sinful. Not just sinful outside of marriage, but sinful all the time, every minute of your life. Imagine that your deep core gender attraction itself was deemed an abomination.

Let's take this empathy exercise even further: Imagine for a moment that you were told that God only saw homosexual relationships as righteous and worthy. I know, it's hard, just try it for a moment. You wanted to please God, your parents, everyone around you. And you were told you could change your sexual orientation to be homosexual even though you're skeptical and know somehow that it might be impossible. But you know to be saved and to follow God's Plan, you must. And so you launch in to trying to like women/men with a reverent, God-centered mission. You even marry a person of the same sex and everything, but deep down you know you're kidding yourself and you start to want a person of the opposite sex, because let's face it, you're wired that way.

OK, back to your own life. That is never going to be your fight, but would you compare that empathy exercise of being attracted to the wrong gender the same as being addicted to drugs or alcohol? No, of course not, because love isn't a substance like drugs or alcohol. Your sexual attractions are hard-wired and you cannot change that.

Up until a few days ago, the Mormon Church told you that you were NOT born that way. That you were choosing somehow to be homosexual/heterosexual. But look now! The church is saying that you ARE born that way! Woah! That seems like a big change! That seems like it might be the answer to a lot of frustration and angst! So if you are a gay Mormon and you're now born that way, what changes for you?

Besides now being on the side of Lady Gaga, nothing changes for you. But wait! Why not? You were just told that you were born that way! That's freaking awesome, isn't it??? Well, lets examine it a bit closer:

So even IF you're born gay, the church still believes that ACTING on your core, born-with sexual orientation is still sinful. That hasn't changed. So if that hasn't changed, what has? Nothing has changed. You see, telling gay people they're born that way and still maintaining that homosexuality is sinful as an action hasn't changed at all.

Gay Mormons weren't waiting to be told they were born that way, gay Mormons were waiting to be told they're just as in un-sinful, valid, and valuable in God's eyes as heterosexuals are, even if they can't multiply and replenish the earth. You see, your sexual attraction to women/men was never about having babies in the first place, it was about being able to freely touch, feel, express, and fully sexualize your domestic relationship with your chosen partner. That whole "having babies" thing is superfluous to love, to loving the way you need it.

And so sadly, the new website, the new big change really isn't any change at all. When Lady Gaga sings about being born that way, she then goes on to sing about loving that way, too.

And so gay Mormons are just as stuck as they were before. The new big change is just a tragic sadness. It's a façade. It's a new smile on the same old doctrine of pain and suffering. Can gay Mormons now go to church and hold hands with their domestic partners, their husbands, wives, and loving spouses? Can they hold them, kiss them, express to them how much they love them like all the other heterosexual couples God loves unconditionally? No.

As a matter of fact, IF a gay Mormon, whom are all now born that way according to Mormon leadership, actually try to love their partners, dates, spouses like those same Mormon leaders do, they'll be sinning. And not just sin because they're doing it outside of marriage, but because they can NEVER touch, feel, show affection, or have any sexual contact with them ever. Ever as in forever.

And not only that, but the Mormon Church believes that homosexuals will be corrected as part of the resurrection process to become a perfect heterosexual person. So what they're really telling you is to never have a relationship at all because you cannot ever love them eternally, even if you feel like you love someone that strongly. Even if you feel in love, a love as strongly as those Mormon leaders love their spouses.

Because IF you remain a celibate gay Mormon in love in this life with the person you wish to eternally love, your core being will be changed to heterosexual and you will not be able to love them anyway because they still believe homosexuality is a sinful abomination that must be changed.

You are born doomed. Forever doomed now that you're born that way. You see? Nothing has changed at all. Gay Mormons are just as doomed now as they were before this latest big change that hasn't changed a thing."

Love, the church PR dept (an angry rant on the church's 'gays and mormons' website)

I feel angry and sad and ANGRY. (You have been warned. I'm pissed.)

The church recently released a new website... A few of the straight Mormons I know are super excited about it. "SEE. Look. We are nice and loving. SEE!!!"

Many of the gay Mormons are not so excited. (At best, this as seen as a baby step. The hope is that MAYBE there will be less gay teens on the streets.)

This is what I see this page as:

An abusive man. He beats his wife. He degrades her. He makes her life a living hell. She stays because she knows nothing else. He beats her because that's what husbands do.

There are rumors that he is a wife-beater. He doesn't want to be known as that. He KNOWS he is a good, kind, wonderful man. People just need to understand him better.

So he puts out a website... all about how wrong it is to beat your wife. He talks about loving her and accepting her, but he makes sure to point out the sin of divorce.

The website is simple. It says, "don't beat your wife, but wives, stay with your husbands no matter how much he hurts you."

ALL of the wife-beaters LOVE the article. It's beautiful. Warm. Fuzzy. And makes them feel secure in their current relationships.
Many people look at the surface of it and say, "Well. It's an improvement. Baby steps. At least he's making some effort to change."
But the woman, the one who has been beat by that man over and over and over, she feels even more hurt, betrayed and disgusted.

She knows he hasn't changed. She knows he still beats his wife. She wishes he would just own that. If he would at least have the decency to be honest about who he really is, then she could get help. Now, when she tries to talk about the bruises and the pain, people point to his website and say, "No. He doesn't beat you. Look. It's right here - he talks about the evils of beating your wife. How can you say he beats you?"

A few months ago, I was asked to sign a petition asking the church to apologize for the things general authorities have said about black people. I refused. Not because I don't want to see the church apologize, but because I don't believe that people should grovel for an apology from them. If the church CARED about the people they have hurt, and they WANTED to make a change, I'm pretty sure they could figure out how to apologize and just do it.

If enough people signed a petition, and pushed them to apologize. (By making it more of a public relations nightmare by NOT apologizing.) They would apologize. But I don't want THAT. That kind of apology would be just as real as the abuser's apology. No REAL remorse... just a fear of the consequences.

The leaders of the church have to know that people have been hurt by racist statements made in the past. (And continued racist doctrine.) At this point, it isn't hurting THEM enough to give a damn.

Gay relations are different. They created a nightmare for themselves with Prop 8. The whole country is shifting, and the leaders of the church know it. If the internet had been around in the 1970's, I'm pretty sure there would have been a similar webpage. (Here's someone's idea of what it would have looked like.)

This website is a nice mask, but they are not changing their abusive ways one fucking bit. And I know, they have God on their side, which makes it okay to be ignorant... But if you're going to be ignorant, at least own it... but instead...

Dear Gay People,
We now are willing to say you were born that way, even though we have said something different many times for many years. (We weren't WRONG, we just can't have all the answers.)
We're also aware that marrying someone of the opposite sex is a bad idea. We won't push you to do that anymore.
So, now we just want you to live alone the rest of your life. Never hold hands. Never have a close intimate relationship with anyone. No sex. No family. Nothing. EVER.

Good news though, in the next life you can be happy. But don't kill yourself... That's not the answer... Just live for the next fifty years feeling lonely, isolated, and sad. We'll call you a hero if you do that.We admire the strength you have to keep on living when living is hell.

You're amazing.

And parents, don't shun or disown your children just because they are gay... but acting on their gayness is a sin, therefore you can't REALLY accept your gay child. You shouldn't love them as they are, you should try to change them into something that they're not... Because God's love is conditional like that. Oh. And Family. Family really is the purpose of life. (But only if your family looks like OURS does. Everything else is an abomination.)

We love you so much, can't you just feel it? (It probably means there's something wrong with you if this doesn't feel like love to you. You should probably do something to get over that.)

With love,
The church PR department (because we all know the General Authorities are going to keep saying the same old shit they have always said. And their shit will contradict our shit. Good luck trying to figure that shit out.)

Now that I'm done writing...
I understand I could probably effect more change and understanding if I said this differently... But I'm angry and I'm tired. I'm tired of talking softly, so that abusive assholes will listen. The truth is the abusive assholes WON'T listen. If I talk softly, they ignore it. And if I yell and scream and swear, they say, "You're too angry," and they dismiss me. So, right now, this isn't about them. It's just about me writing MY thoughts. (And letting you read them if you feel like it.)

Maybe I am being selfish with my angry rant. At this moment, it is more important to me to express my anger and my frustration than to help others. But I also want to help others... So, here is a list of posts from Clive Durham . He says what needs to be said without the sarcasm or the fuck word. (And if you didn't make it this far.... That's okay, I'll put this list in a new post too.)

I love gay people,...but...
I love and accept you, but…I don’t accept your homosexual lifestyle
I love you and accept you, but…you have to acknowledge that you’re broken and as a result, live your life the way I feel is best.
I love you and accept you, but…stay away from my children.
I love you and accept you, but…you must live your life alone, without love, companionship and intimacy.

You are good. (or why I care so much about LGBT issues)

I get really passionate about LGBT issues.
A lot of people have thought I am gay/lesbian because I get so passionate. (I'm not.)
The question always comes next, "Then WHY do you get so worked up about it?"

Because I know what it's like to go through life feeling "less than". I know what it feels like to feel like I am unacceptable, bad, different, etc. I also know what it feels like to accept and love myself, and I want that for EVERYONE.

Everyone deserves to feel loved and accepted for who they are.

Today, Dan at Single Dad Laughing came out. His prayer, "Please God, don't let me be anything but straight," brought me to tears. Please read it. He describes the pain, fear, and confusion so well.

I thought of all the prayers I said, "Please God. Just make me different. Make me GOOD."
I also thought of the answer that finally came, "Jen, you don't have to change a thing. You are good just the way you are."

I want everyone to know, "You don't have to change a thing. You are good just the way you are."

Check the facts... and then believe them

One of the skills I learned in therapy was "Check the facts".
Basically, although the emotions we feel are very real, sometimes the stories we tell ourselves that create those emotions aren't real.

A very simple example: No one has called me on my birthday, they don't love me, they don't care about me... Check the facts and find out your phone was off. Several people tried to call, but couldn't get through. They left voice messages. Suddenly the emotions are gone, because the story wasn't accurate.

One of the stories I believed came from another person. Lolly has said that my presence made people uncomfortable, everyone hated having me around, and I was hurting other people by being.

I believed her. I didn't question it. It didn't even cross my mind to use my skill of "checking the facts", because I really believed what she said was fact. BJ didn't believe her... He told me to talk to the people that supposedly hated me...

I was anxious. I was scared. I wanted to crawl in a hole. I didn't. The conversation went like this.

Me: I don't want to cause problems, or make things difficult for you and I know you care about Lolly, and I don't want to change that either... What I'm trying to get at is.... She said that you hate having me around, and that you don't want me here, but you are too nice to say anything. I want you to know if that's the case, I don't need you to be nice for nice sake, you can tell me to never come around again. You can be completely honest with me.

Claire: To be completely honest, before I met you, and I'd only heard Lolly's side, I didn't like you. I wouldn't have chosen to have you in my life... but... then I listened to more of the story, I met you, I spent time with you, and that is not how I feel at all. You're a sweetheart, and I'm glad I know you.

That conversation was several months ago. That should have been the end of it, but I still didn't believe her. It was easier to believe that I was hated, and Claire was just too nice to say so. Two months ago, she called to invite me to dinner in her home, and also said I was welcome ANY time. I still wouldn't believe her. Logically, I know that trusting Lolly to tell me what Claire thinks and feels, and NOT trusting Claire is irrational and silly... but it's hard to let go of the belief that people don't want me.

The truth is, it has nothing to do with Lolly or any of the stories she tells. I BELIEVE that I am not wanted. Deep down, I still play the same message that I have always played, "The world would be better off if you didn't exist." So, every time someone else agrees with that message, it breaks me apart. I believe the false story over the real story. I cling to it. (Like a fucking crazy person!) For whatever reason, it is scary to let go of that old belief... don't know why... I might figure that out later, but for now... I'd just like to let go.

I'm tired of believing the old shit. I'm tired of that old message. It wasn't true when I started believing it (whenever the hell that was), and it isn't true now. (I'm not saying that everyone loves me, that would be just as ridiculous, but I know I am loved. I also know that the people who tell me they love me now, can mean it, because I have let them get to know me.)



And... on top of it all, the one thing I know for sure: There is a lot of peace in knowing what IS, instead of pretending to know and believing what is NOT.
 

Living IS the point.

I got this in an email from a friend. He's been depressed lately, and he's trying to figure out why (and how to get over it.)

"I think the root of the whole problem is that I don't have a good answer to the question, "What's the point?" It seems to me that we're born, and then we live and then we die. It seems so unfair. Makes me want to cry.

So, I'm wondering if you've answered that question. If so, what's your answer? More importantly, what has been your process to answer that question? I know my answer will be different than yours, so while I'm interested in your answer, I'm much, much more interested in your process (assuming you've taken the time to answer that question since leaving the church)."

What's the point?

My only thought: LIVING is the point. We're born. We LIVE.

And the process I followed to get that answer?
I really didn't have to answer the question AFTER I left the church, because leaving was just part of the process.

As a member of the church, I was told what the point and purpose to my life should be. I was told "the plan", and I was told that plan was the ONLY plan that would bring happiness in this life and the next. I was told I was lucky to know "the plan", because most people on the planet don't know.

I didn't feel lucky... I felt like a square peg trying to force myself into a round hole. I felt depressed and anxious and miserable. So many things that I'd been taught just didn't make sense to me. The reality I saw didn't fit the ideals that I'd heard. I spent my life doing a list of things TRYING to make my life happy, but the list just made me more and more miserable.

Much of "the plan" left me feeling miserable and hopeless in this life, but there was always the idea that if I just "endured", then at least the next life wouldn't be so bad. For a while, I dreamed of dying, because at least death would mean "going home" to a place where I felt safe and loved and happy.

One of the most important moments in my life was when I realized that if I was miserable trying to be in the church today, what would make me think I would be happy living this plan for all eternity? Everything I'd been taught about the Celestial Kingdom just made me believe it would be MORE of the temple. MORE church. MORE of the worst kinds of members. (I actually said, "If that's who is going to be in heaven, send me to HELL!") More of the things that made this life feel barely bearable.

The day I realized that death wouldn't bring me to the happiness I wanted, I started taking responsibility for finding happiness today. I stopped dreaming of death, because I wanted to find a way to live.

One of my therapy assignments was to list my passions and values. (They asked for the top three... but since it's my blog, I don't have to follow their rules.)
Exploring. Learning new things. Discovering new places.
Love. Loving myself. Loving others. Loving the world around me. Loving what I do. Finding things, people, places that I love.
Nature/Spirituality. Being in the places that I feel most at peace (mountains). Finding the connection that I have to the world I live in. Following the deepest part of myself.
Leadership and Integrity. Being ME. Showing others that it is okay to be themselves through my willingness to be me. Facing my fears, so others will know they can too. Being open and honest, so others won't feel as alone, and so I won't feel so alone.
Change. Making the world a better place. Using my voice and my talents to improve the world. NOT for some grand reward in the next life, but just because I CAN.


So, what's the point?

Talk to friends. Watch TV. Play the violin. Ride a horse. Eat salmon tacos. Count the blades of grass. Watch the clouds in the sky. Go fishing. Drive. Write a book. Read a book. Play a game. Kiss someone you love. Watch a child grow. Decorate your house. Buy new furniture. Watch an ant carry a crumb. Work. Make a living. Find a way to contribute to the world around you. Smile. Cry. Laugh. Hate. Love. Think. Play the piano. Sing. Dance. Go scuba diving. Feel the rain on your cheeks. Splash in the puddles. Go rock climbing. Sit on the porch. Take a nap in the hammock. Watch a lightening storm. Go for a walk. Play with a goat. Train a dog. Pet a cat. Grow out your hair. Cut it short. Go to school. Family. Talk to someone older than you. Talk to someone younger than you. Watch a child learn. Listen to music. Paint a picture. Create a sculpture. Go on a cruise. Write letters. Invent something that has never been invented. Sleep. Memorize a poem. Share ideas. Catch a snake. Try new foods. Watch the snow fall. Study each flake. Smell the clean clothes when you take them out of the dryer. Smell the sweat when you work hard. Feed the horses. Fix the fences. Get hurt. Heal. Sit by the fireplace. Take pictures. Listen to the birds. Watch ice form and melt. Play chess. Write a program. Plant a garden. Learn to play the guitar. Think about learning to play the guitar, but never take the dang thing out of it's case. Disagree. Hug. Feel. Just BE.

See what you can see. Learn what you can learn. Live as much as you can live.
And one day, die... and then find out whatever it is that comes next.

Underwater Breathing

I started my scuba diving class.
I loved it. Water is a whole new world of exploration... I haven't even spent much time playing in a pool, and the thought of exploring lakes, rivers, and the oceans UNDER water sounds amazing.

Just think of all of the cool things I can see!

We went through a few of the things for certification:

I tried to smile for the picture.
That was less effective:
I lost the snorkel.

I had to swim. I had to use a snorkel, fill it with water, then blow it out, so I could keep breathing.

The fins caused me issue, because I got stepped on by a horse this week, so I finally took them off. It's hard to swim with a big tank on your back.

I had to breath underwater with and without the mask on. (First breath was SO weird!)

We learned how to clear the regulator. (It fills with water when you take it out of your mouth underwater. If you just put it back in and start breathing, you'll breath water.) We had to do that several times, and show we knew the different methods to clear it.

Then we had to flood our masks and clear our masks underwater. Having water in the mask made it so I couldn't see, and that caused me anxiety. I had a hard time thinking when I couldn't open my eyes... The instructor worked with me for about five minutes before I could (somewhat calmly) fill the mask with water, and then clear it.

Before class, I was a little bit worried that PTSD/anxiety/panic would make diving miserable (for me, and anyone with me). I'm not worried anymore. Before I go on a real dive, I'm going to have to get more comfortable with water in the mask, but I am confident with just a little more time and practice, I'll be past the anxiety.

I'm going to have to invest in a wetsuit or something. (I hate spending money, but I have learned that spending money on the right gear makes experiences so much more enjoyable. Something about freezing makes it hard to enjoy anything.) The pool was 80 degrees, and by the end of class I was shivering so bad I couldn't turn the knobs on the oxygen tank.

Moving forward

Most of my current friends are from "support groups".
Some people I met while I was in treatment for an eating disorder.
Some I met at a CALM (Community After Leaving Mormonism) support group.

The nice thing about meeting friends there, is that you can get right down to talking about the stuff that is bothering you. No one balks if you talk about trauma or abuse in an eating disorder support group. Pretty much everyone there has their own intense story, and they are trying to figure out how to survive hell just like I was. It was very helpful to have people who understood and who I could talk to.

Leaving the church was incredibly painful, difficult, crazy, and very lonely. I am so glad I found the support group. Again - no one balked when I expressed anger, sadness, and frustration at the things I learned in church (or that I learned about the church). Nobody tried to persuade me to feel differently - because we were all going through pretty much the same thing.

The thing I have started to realize recently is that I don't NEED either of these support groups anymore. (Which is AWESOME!) But now I want to find friends that share more common interests, instead of common pains. (Just to clarify - the friends I've made in those places are still very important to me... It's just that I want to expand my life to include new people.)

This summer, I joined an organization that helps train Mustangs.
Last month, I joined a club called Trout Unlimited. They get together once a month and talk about fishing. Then they go out fishing and camping together. Freaking awesome!
Tonight, I start a scuba diving class.

I will still be very involved in educating others about abuse vs. healthy relationships. (It is very important to me to be here in case there is anyone else who needs support.)
I will never be able to completely get away from the church, because everyone in my family is still a part. So, I will probably always write about and be involved with issues. (I also still have a desire to be there for anyone who was like me. I want them to know there are more options than what the church teaches.)

I'm also ready to move forward into LIFE. I don't know how that will go as far as blogging... There's not much to say after a great ride, or a good fishing trip, or even a scuba diving class. How many times do I say, "Today's ride was AWESOME!" before everyone gets tired of reading??

Trying to convince a horse to drag a tree... not as easy as it sounds.

In my last post, I talked about our desire to train the horses to drag a tree behind it.
We want to ride the horses in, find a tree, cut it down ourselves, and have a horse drag it out behind him. I've never done anything like that with Sunny. BJ once tied a sled behind Bo the horse, and it didn't go very well. Bo was fine with the rope being tied to the saddle. He was NOT fine with that piece of plastic following him.

We decided we'd start with Sunny... Generally, he spooks less than Bo. (Unless there's an elk. Sunny doesn't like elk.) I tied a plank of wood to a rope, then tied that to his saddle. We walked all over the pasture. No problem. (Bo freaked out. He didn't like that piece of wood following Sunny around. We spent most of the time trying to get Bo to get close to the wood and the rope.)

I am not going near that thing, and you can't make me!

Bo eventually got to a point where he would walk next to Sunny while Sunny was dragging the wood. I decided it was time to move to something bigger, so I tied a log on. He did great with that. (He was a little uneasy, until I had him stop and look at it. I don't think he understands English, but I have found if I just explain things to him, he calms down. So I explained it to him.)

This is what Sunny and I were doing while Bo and BJ were moving closer and closer to the rope tied to Sunny's saddle.

This is the part of the story that shows how silly I am... What made me think this was a good "next step"?

There was a tree in the yard that had been knocked over by the wind. It wasn't TOO heavy - I could have dragged it myself, but I decided I could use Sunny's new skill to move the tree out.

I tied the rope to the tree. Made sure it was no longer attached to the ground at all...
And then I started leading Sunny. He was great, until the tree got caught on the gate. He kept pulling at it, but when it wouldn't budge, he started dancing... and rearing up... and I was standing at his head.

BJ videoed the whole thing... You can't see Sunny step on/kick my ankle, but you can see when I start hopping (and swearing, but softly enough that only I could hear it.) I can't get the video to upload... you'll just have to trust me...

We got the tree loose, and then Sunny pulled it the rest of the way, no problem.
Tonight, I'm hanging out on the couch: foot up with ice on it. It doesn't hurt too bad, but it is swollen and bruised looking.  A friend of mine shared this on Facebook (so fitting):

BEWARE: I ride horses, which means I own pitchforks, have the strength to haul hay, and have to guts to (work with) half ton animal after being kicked... you will not be a problem!

I'm feeling tough tonight. (Although I also just went to Cowboy Poetry, where one of the poets shared a poem about "Healthy Living". I wish I had a copy of the whole thing... basically it poked fun at the irony that Cowboys live outside in the fresh air, and think they are living healthy, because they don't live in the city. BUT they've all lost fingers, broken bones, and various other injuries. It's just part of being a "horse person". I've never broken a bone or lost a finger. I broke my nose once and now I've bruised my ankle... I'm not really tough at all.)

My magnificently Boring Life

I was talking to a friend a couple weeks ago... She asked me how I was doing... what was new... all the usual questions.

She and I have both been through HELL. Abuse. (and a lot of it). PTSD. Depression. Craziness. And we both felt like we would never be 'normal'.

When she asked me all the usual questions, I laughed/cried and said, "I'm so normal and boring. It's awesome!"

And then WE laughed/cried as I told her about my very boring (and wonderful) life:

I woke up and ate breakfast with BJ. We talked about horses. We want to train them to drag a tree behind them, so we can cut down our own Christmas tree this year and have the horses drag it out. I don't know how to train my horse to drag a tree behind him. We tried to come up with a plan that would be helpful AND not result in injury of us or the horses.

I showered and got ready for the day. He went to work.
I work from home, so it's pretty easy going. I have two co-workers that come in for a couple hours every week. They came and we worked and chatted.

I fed the horses, and ate my lunch in the pasture with them.
I replied to a few personal emails and played on Facebook, then I went back to work. I shipped 108 pounds of ties that day. That's a lot of orders!

Dann called and we talked. (Like I said before, we're friends.)

BJ came home and we made dinner together. We talked about our day. His work. My work. The conversations he had with Jim at work. (Jim likes to talk about the same things that BJ likes to talk about. They get each other thinking.)

BJ made banana bread, and then we watched TV (Gold Rush. I hope Parker makes it big!) My friend called. BJ tied flies (for fly fishing) while I talked to her, and then we read. Together, but not together... Sitting in the same room reading our own books. I love reading my own book, but still sitting together and sharing what we're reading. Sometimes I only read one paragraph before we spend the next few hours talking about stuff.

Eating Disorder questions

A friend of mine recently taught a class on eating disorders. He asked me a bunch of questions, so he could share some of my story. I figured I'd share my answers here...

How did I view my body?
I hated it. Everything about it. The way it looked. The way it felt pain, hunger, thirst, or tired. I hated myself... hating my body was just an extension of that.

What were the reasons for restricting?

I didn't really "restrict" like most people. As a very little girl, I was a super picky eater. If told I had to eat the hot dog, or go hungry, I chose to go hungry.
When I was 10ish, I heard my parents stressing about money. In my mind, if I went without food, that would help them.

At 14, my dad punched my brother. He spent two weeks in the hospital with a ruptured spleen. I blamed myself, because I didn't do anything to protect Jeff. I got really depressed and lost my appetite. I found that not eating numbed my anger and my sadness. It made life more bearable.
At 17, when I went into treatment, my therapist would ask me why I didn't want to eat, and all I could come up with then was that I was crazy. I really didn't know.

I got a lot better from 18-29. I felt like I owed it to everyone else to be recovered. So I ate like I was supposed to. At 29, I just decided I was done... done living, done trying, done pleasing everyone else. Which took me right back to starving myself.

I went back to therapy, and this time talked about sexual abuse that I wasn't willing to talk about the first time. Talking about the abuse caused horrible flashbacks, nightmares, and intense painful "body memories". I felt like the only way to find relief from the flashbacks and body memories was to walk. I walked and walked and walked.

I went back into treatment mostly because I knew I could make myself eat, but I didn't know if I could make myself eat AND deal with all of the abuse and trauma that I needed to deal with.

How did religion play into your thought processes?
Religion was HUGE.
First, not eating was a very acceptable way to deal with problems. Alcohol and drugs were not an option, but not eating was not only NOT looked down upon, but thought to be a good thing. People (in general and in the church) still see my ability to fast for a long time and to exercise as a show of self-discipline. (I have heard several people say they wish they could be anorexic for a while, just so they could lose weight.)

There are many lessons about the spirit having power over the body. I can push my body to extremes that most people won't ever even try. (That's a good thing, by the way.) Being able to push my body meant I was more spiritual.

I was rewarded for not being selfish... for being aware of what everyone else needed and letting them have it. This played out in food. I (still) won't take the last piece of cake, because that feels selfish.

Fasting is a sacrifice that we make to God, so that he will answer our prayers. I fully believed that my not eating could help the people I love...

The LDS religion preaches perfection as the goal. It created very black and white thinking. The goal might be to BE perfect, but if you can't be perfect, at least LOOK perfect. Hide all imperfections, weaknesses, flaws, and make them go away. (Not eating was a way to make all the human flaws seem less... I had super human strength... It also made all human emotions go away. I didn't' feel angry, jealous, sad, or wanting. I didn't have strong opinions about anything (It's hard to feel passionate about anything when you're starving.)

Forgiveness in church means forgetting. Killing brain cells by starving MAKES you forget.

What was effective and what was not. Was there anything that wasn't effective the first time through but was the second? What had changed in you between the first and second time?

The first time I went, I was seventeen.
I was in the ER, and the Dr. gave me the choice of going into the hospital or going to Center for Change. I chose Center for Change (CFC). I thought I would be there for two weeks... just long enough to get some food in me.
I ended up staying almost three months. It was very helpful, but...
I wasn't ready to talk about a lot of things, so I shut down. I started doing a lot of eating disorder behaviors and hiding it even before I left.

There's also a sort of competition with eating disorders. It's like you have to be really REALLY sick to deserve any kind of help. Every time a new admit would come in, everyone would obsess about her body, and relapse in a way. They also made fun of the people that were working. (If someone took an extra helping of food, the other girls were AWFUL with their comments.) The staff was awesome, but the other patients made it really hard to do the work.

Being in the environment with the other patients is a big reason I didn't want to go back eleven years later.
My experience was SO different the second time.

CFC made a lot more rules to protect against people doing exactly what I had done. When I went the first time, they were only six months old. They learned a lot in that time.
I also REALLY wanted to be better. I was willing to do anything to feel good, so I was a SUPER stickler for all the rules. (I had a therapist tell me to stop following all the rules... Learn to trust myself and stop trying to be perfect. BEST advice ever.)

The other patients were amazing. I had told Paul (my therapist) that if the other patients were anything like they were my first time, I wouldn't stay. I was watching for the competition and the sabotaging each other.
I had been there about two weeks when a new girl came in. She was very sick - heart problems and seizures from detoxing off the diet pills she had been taking. Several of the girls sat in a circle, prayed for her, and then pinky promised to be done with the eating disorder. There have been many days when I felt too tired to keep going, and I remember that pinky promise. It's hard to describe how amazing that experience was if you have never seen what some treatment centers can be like.

Since I already knew how to make myself eat, my big focus was on dealing with the abuse. I worked HARD. I talked about things that I didn't want to talk about. I shared. I was open and honest. I gave therapy my ALL.

I knew what it was like to "just eat" and I wanted more than that. I was not (am still not) willing to live the way I had been: trying to please others, letting other people use and abuse me, and feeling helpless in my own life.

I stayed inpatient for three months, and then did day patient (going from 8 am - 8 pm) for another few months. The transition time of day patient was really helpful. I went back to work a few days a week, but still had a place to go to process everything.

I was really lucky. The church paid for my entire inpatient stay, and then family and friends helped pay for day patient. CFC also gave me a price break and two free weeks. Most people don't get to stay as long as I did or get the kind of transition time that I did. It's really REALLY sad to me that most people just have to figure out how to survive on their own, because there isn't insurance or other funding to help.

As far as food and weight gain, the second time, the focus was on intuitive eating. Learning to trust your body. Eat what you want, and know you'll be okay. That was really helpful too... Especially since I had been so focused on making everyone else happy and "proving" I was recovered for so long. With intuitive eating, you eat what YOU want... no more, no less.

Friendship after Divorce

I started this entry a long time ago, but never finished it. I've written and rewritten it and added things and taken away things... just trying to say what I really want to say, but I'm not even sure what I want to say... so... how do I say what I want to if I don't know what it is...

I don't know if it's complete or good.., but I've decided to share it today.

Once upon a time, I spent an awesome weekend camping, fishing, and riding in the mountains. BJ and I had this trip planned for a LONG time. We wanted to pack our gear, ride in to Kidney Lake, spend a few days fishing, and ride out.

(For those who don't know: Once upon a time, Dann and I were married. Now we're not. We are friends. Being friends was important to me, and it was important to him.)


I didn't want to tell Dann about the trip. I was afraid it would make him sad or jealous. I didn't want him to feel angry or freaked out. (I am very aware of ex-spouses that act crazy when they hear things they don't like.) We were all at my parents' house for dinner. I wanted to tell my dad all about the trip - especially since it was his idea. (He went to Kidney Lake and told BJ and I we needed to go.)

So, I talked about it. I ignored the voice in my head telling me that I wasn't allowed to talk about the things that make me happy... But the voice that said I was hurting Dann wouldn't shut up. So... I finally just said, "Does it bother you that I went on this trip? Or that I talk about it?"

"No! Why would it bother me? What kind of friend would I be if I didn't want to hear about the things that make you happy? What kind of a friend would I be if I got jealous when you were doing something you love? I want you to be happy. I want you to do things you love. And I want to hear about it all! Does it make you jealous when I talk about my dates and/or other girls?"

That was a good question. The answer is NO. I feel really happy for him when he's happy. I feel really happy for him when he's doing things he loves. What kind of a friend would tell him that he can't talk about his dates? That's a huge part of his life.

I want us to be friends. Real friends. So, I tell him about the stuff that I care about. I don't protect him from ME, and I don't hide me, and I don't expect him to pretend or hide either. We're FRIENDS.

All of this has gotten me thinking: We are definitely not common, so how are we doing it?
 
I had people tell me it wasn't possible.
"Once you break up with a person, it should just be over." And I agree, if that's what  any ONE of the people want, that is exactly how it should be... but what if both people want a friendship?
 

A relationship only works if both people have a desire to be in the relationship. It would have been completely acceptable if either one of us had said, "I don't want to continue a relationship with you." THAT is different from the way a lot of people think. For instance, Person A wants to be friends, so they try to force Person B to be their friend. That isn't a friendship. I don't know what that is... other than messed up.) If, in the future, one of us needed to change the relationship again, we would. A relationship only works when it works for both people.

I also think we had to let go of our past relationship. It would be impossible to be "present-friends", if either one of us was still stuck in " past-marriage". We have a history, but we let that be history. There is no talk of what might have been, or blame for the marriage ending, or even questions as to why it didn't work out. There is no trying to get back together - there is only our present friendship.


I had to make a lot of changes in myself. It was a big adjustment for people around me... including for Dann. He was used to me being different... more self-sacrificing... he was a huge support in my journey. Instead of trying to get me to go back to being self-sacrificing, he helped me grow the way I needed to grow...

While we were married, Dann did things that really hurt me. He apologized for those things, and he also understood that his apology didn't make everything all better. There was a lot of pain and anger that I had to go through, and he didn't expect me to rush it on his account. He didn't expect me to do anything for him... He didn't even expect me to be his friend unless I wanted to. Really... He had no expectations of me or of our relationship. By not trying to force anything, by letting go of what he thought it should be, it's unfolded naturally into the relationship we have now.


When I talk to him about anything, he doesn't use invalidating statements and comments. (And if he did, I could tell him. We could talk about it without him freaking out.)

He told me to trust myself.

"I trust you. Now, YOU trust you. If you don't want to talk to me, don't want to see me, or don't want anything to do with me: It doesn't matter. Trust yourself. If you fake it because you think that's what you're supposed to do, or because you think that is what I want, you will NEVER recover... But if you learn to trust you in EVERYTHING, healing will happen." (taken from an online chat)

He told me not to answer the phone when he (or anyone) called unless I WANTED to talk to him (or them).  For nine years, I thought it was my responsibility to take care of his needs: to put him ahead of myself. It was hard to change that belief. It has taken me a long time to get to a place where I am okay having needs, wants, and desires...  He understood that, and supported me. I'd like to say this isn't still hard for me. It is. It's been years, and I still have to fight against the feeling that I have to take care of him.

Knowing the way I work, how awful would our relationship be if he wanted me to fix things for him? How awful would it be for me, if he wanted me to continue taking care of him? If he thought that was what I was supposed to do? Or if he blamed me for not doing more to "save" our marriage? I'd have to fight against the false beliefs in my head AND in his head. I don't think I was (or am) strong enough that I could do that. That relationship would be deadly toxic for me.

He respects me when I tell him no.
I'm still working on telling people (and specifically him) "no". I have had to learn to stand up for myself. When I tell him "no" for any reason, he actually thanks me for taking care of myself, instead of pushing to get his way. That, more than anything, makes it possible for me to be around him. To talk to him. To count him as one of my friends. I have been way too much of a people-pleaser to have people in my life who expect me to please them... in any way...

He doesn't act like he knows what I should be doing, or what my path looks like.
Again, he trusts ME to find my own way, and he is a support as I walk my path. He doesn't give me advice or tell me how to live my life. 

He celebrates when I am happy. 
When I moved, and I was SO excited, he was excited for me. He helped me move - into the house I live in with BJ. Dann is grateful that I found BJ, because I am grateful. He wants to hear about our camping trips, our horseback rides, our fishing trips. He also gets angry when he feels BJ or I aren't being treated right.

"When you love someone, you are happy when they are happy. If you feel sad or hurt when another person is happy, that isn't love, that's selfishness." (taken from a text.)

Can you imagine how healing it is to have him say that to me? Can you imagine how wonderful it is to have a friend that really does care about MY happiness?


I feel lucky. I know how beautifully odd it is. It is rather perfect that we've both come to this place. It's rather perfect that we both wanted a friendship, and we defined friendship in the same way. Our separation and our journey was not short and was not easy, but considering what so many people go through, we're very lucky.