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.......

Do angels really exist?

I think so.

Save a horse.  Ride a cowboy.  That's what they say. . .

15 seconds of Kid Life...

I often have to be "pushed" to do things.  I usually would rather stay at home and do "home stuff" than pretty much anything else.  But...I have children.  And they require me to actually get out of the house and take them places most of the time.  Damn kids.

Yesterday was a beautiful day.  I managed to talk the kids into  force the children to help me clean, with the promise of "going somewhere" when we were finished.  It worked.

I decided to go to a nearby nature center, and take the kids on a hike.  We have done this in the past, and it is a nice walk and a beautiful trail.  I did however warn them that if we saw a snake, that I could be found back at the start of the trail, because I would surely high tail it out of there.  I also gave them the "tick" talk.  You know the one...the one that goes like this:

"Often times there are these little bugs called ticks that live in trees and out there "in nature".  They are tiny and they will attach themselves to you and stick their head in your skin and suck your blood."

I laugh at my sick sense of humor.  But it is true.  They do!

It became all Audrey could talk about the entire walk. "What if it sucks ALL my blood?"  "What if I accidentally scratch it's body off and it's head stays in my skin?"  "What if....what if....what if...."

Then I shake my head at my stupid sense of humor.....

The walk started off awesome.  The kids were having fun, it was beautiful out, blah blah blah.

And then, it became harder.  "It's hot!  My legs are tired!  I HATE NATURE!"

Seriously.  See what I get for "doing something".  Seriously again.  Why bother...but I kept going.  :)

I managed to capture 15 seconds without a complaint or a whine.  Ahhh, sweet success, I'd say.

Challenge and Change...

This was originally written by me in January of 2010.  Funny how some things never seem to change.


Two words I read in a newsletter the other day. Challenge and Change.

That is where I am.

But really, that is where I always am.

I have so much I need to change.
But everything is a challenge to me.
Unless it involves me being left alone, it's challenging.

That can't be "normal". But it is my normal. I don't want to do anything.

Which of course, isn't good for anything.