Remember When...

I hesitate to put this video out here, because at the end of it, is fat old me.  And when I see that, I want to run out the back door and not stop running.  But....I am telling myself that I do not look like that anymore...at least I hope not.


But I came across this video and it reminded me of a few nice things.
1:  I used to be happy.
2:  I used to have FUN with my kids.
3:  I used to not care too too much about being seen on camera, obviously.
4:  I used to be a better mom than I have been in months...if not years.


So, I will share this video, as proof that that I used to be a fun loving, dancing, laughing, got it together for my kids kind of mom.


Maybe one day, I will again.

Remember Me?

Today was an ordinary "mom day off".  It started with a trip to the orthodontist for two children.  We were there for nearly 2 hours.

Fun, let me tell you.

Then, we went to the dollar store.

Then, I decided to take some little tokens of my love to my McCallum Place friends.  The kids got some Yo My Goodness, which they loved.  And to my happy surprise, my old friends just so happened to be outside while we were there.  So I got to visit with people who might actually care about me.  It was nice.

After they went back inside...to treatment, where I wish I still was....... I decided to let the kids "live on the dangerous side of life"....  and I took this picture.

I love it.

Just a song...

The Momma Tree

It's true.  The old saying that once you get ONE tattoo, you will have a burning desire to get more and more.  It is kind of like childbirth if you think about it.  When you are actually getting a tattoo, or having a baby, you swear you will NEVER do this again...because it hurts!!!  But.....


I got my 3rd tattoo last night.  And I love it. 


I actually had a very impromptu "Tattoo party", and invited any of my friends who wanted to get a tattoo also.  Andy, a long time freaky friend, is a very talented tattoo artist, and he came to my house...and I had my first ever "get together" of any kind....OF ANY KIND.....  Thanks to my husband, who got the house ready, got the food and drinks, and talked Andy into coming over just for me....  


And I laughed.  And I forgot, if only for a few hours, about the hell that swells inside my soul.  


So....I got this tattoo....

It is what I call my "Momma tree".  To me, it looks like a momma tree holding her arms out saying, "Come home babies.....".  And there are five birds flying to the tree.  Remember...I have five babies of my own.  :)  


I love it.  It means something to me.  To my heart, is says that I am here kids.  Even if right now I am not all visible, or available.  My arms are always open.  And you are ALWAYS allowed to fly home to me. 


I love all of you. 


And I love my new tattoo.....and yes, it f'n hurt like hell.  


and yes....I'll probably get another one.  I'm turning into an old lady rebel freak I guess.  

Like a SkyScraper....

I am going to try and be positive here.  


I would like to envision myself rebuilding my life.  Up from the ground.  Starting over.  Made of glass or paper...I want to start over...or begin to fix what is broken.  I want to rise from the ground....like a skyscraper. 


I AM something very good.  I AM talented.  I AM loving, caring, humble, loving and giving.  I want to remember what it feels to be OK to be those things.  


Watch me rebuild.



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One of the best things....

Is this little girl.....I love her with all my heart. 

This is Me...

Here I am.  Have you been wondering where Chris had gone?  I had literally dropped of the face of the earth, it would seem.  I no longer went up to school.  I no longer went to anything related to school functions.  I didn't go to all the first grade "Fantasy Day" meetings, which led to me feeling guilt and anger.  But guess what, I was lost.  And hiding.  So, the last thing I wanted or cared about was putting up appearances at school functions, girl scouts...anything.  I no longer called my mom.  I no longer called anybody.

I turned inside myself, and hid there.  But, I am about to tell you about me.  And I have decided that this is a HUGE risk to myself, and my family...but if you are the kind of person I really want to have in my life, you will accept me regardless...and if you are repulsed, or you think I am crazy, or you laugh at me...good riddance.  I didn't need or want you in my  life anyway.


Dear Mom and Dad.  You can stop reading here.  There is no need for you to put yourself through what I am about to retell.  So there, that is your warning.


As a child, I suffered some childhood sexual abuse.  Who hasn't right?  That is what I led myself to believe my entire life.  As a teenager, I took control of things by developing an eating disorder.  I was good at it, and almost died from starvation.  Hospitalization for several months saved my life.


But I didn't die.  I continued to live.  And life went on....with a hidden eating disorder.  In a life that was completely full of fear and terror of anything and everything.  Someday, I will tell my story of my sexual abuse...but that will not be on a public blog, and now is not the time to do that.


Jump forward to November of 2011, I read the entire Sandusky indictment from the PENN state scandal, and immediately was sent straight into severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Luckily I was already seeing a fabulous therapist.  But, without much effort, I have lost 80 pounds since then.


Nobody but my therapist and myself knew what was going on.  Not even my husband.  He had no idea of what I had lived through...and was worried about my rapid weight loss.


After MUCH thought and painful tears of the "how can this even happen", it was decided that I would attend a 10 hour a day treatment for my eating disorder at McCallum Place, a world known place, right  here in Webster Groves, to deal with my crazy self...and try to kick my ass back into gear.



BUT....Here I was.  Risking a fortune, insurance fights, my job, my family, my friends, school schedules, vacations.....all of it.  Because there was nothing good coming from where I was going.  I was headed straight to death.  Every night I played Russian Roulette with my life with all the self harming activities I was doing.


So.......With the wonderful encouragement of my bosses, my co-workers, my husband and my therapist...I entered therapy.



That is where I have been for the past six weeks.  10 hours a day.  Trying to learn to eat again.  Trying to learn to not feel like throwing up every bite of food I swallow.  Trying to curb the urges of hurting myself by scratching my arms until they bleed so that I can actually feel something other than inner pain.  I tried to learn that taking 15 laxatives every night does not really do anything for your weight.....


Yep.  Full blown eating disorder.  EXCEPT....I am still technically obese.


That was a lot to try to accept.  Here I am, at a place trying to save people from starving to death....and I could live ten years on all the fat still left on my body.  I felt very out of place...and very unimportant.


It took awhile, but I opened up, and made wonderful friends...and no longer felt alone or as crazy as I usually allow myself to feel.


I don't know if I will ever be fully recovered, because six weeks is such a short time to "fix" something I've dealt with for over half my life.... but I will do my best.


At some point in my life...I will advocate intensively for children who are not protected from predators.  And for now, I ask all of you reading to PLEASE watch your children and trust NOBODY.  Family members, clergy, strangers, teachers....anybody.  NOBODY can be trusted.  Protect your children, parents.  Protect your children.


And I promised I would give a "shout out to my most favorite Direct Care Staff member".....whose alias will be Amelia.  She was somebody that everyday she worked, made me feel special regardless of my size or ugliness. She got me....or at least did a pretty good job of pretending to.


and I will miss her.....Tremendously.


I sort of feel like I've been dumped right back out into the real world right where I left off.  But I remind myself that I AM different.  And smarter.  I must move forward.  No other alternatives. 


So....That is what I have been up to for awhile.  I've been busy self destructing.  If you have the ability or desire, prayers are gladly accepted.  I will tell you that I am on so many new meds, that sometimes I don't seem to have the best memory...or the best balance....but I am still me.


Me:  Chris.  The girl who cares so much about others.  Cares about her family.  Is tired of living in a corner behind boxes.  I am awake now....and even though I am still afraid....I refuse to let myself be terrorized anymore.


If you have any questions....please feel free to ask.


Amen.


And this song....sums me up.......