Reflecting on this day and while I wish I could share an inspirational message, but the biggest thing I have learned in these last eight years is that life is incredibly hard…make that FUCKING hard…And just when you think it can’t get any harder, it does.

You will ALWAYS Be a Body

Relationships you think you will have forever can end in an instant. You are allowed to struggle and have a hard time, but only to a certain extent, and only for so long. If you struggle too much, or too long, you will either need to find a way to deal with it on your own or stop talking about it, because that is a sure way to push people away. “Don’t judge yourself based on your body or size” they say, “find a way to accept your body” they say, but understand that your weight, size, and appearance WILL be used to determine your recovery and your health, by the very people who advocate for you being more than a body and more than a number.

“your weight, size, and appearance WILL be used to determine your recovery and your health, by the very people who advocate for you being more than a body and more than a number.”

8 years ago I was told I wouldn’t make it. Even though I was doing better than I ever had, the day was bittersweet. People I trusted more than life itself told me that staying in Los Angeles was a mistake. Until that day, I’d never experience more hurt in my life. I didn’t think I would be able to get through the rest of that day. Let alone walk into a beautiful ceremony to honor my accomplishment. Somehow I did. If not for my mother and father, taking a leap of faith and believing in me, I would not have been able to stay here. They went against the advice of these professionals and instead put their trust in me. At this point, I had done very little to earn that trust, so when I say I owe them a lot, I do. It was the truest leap of faith I have ever witnessed. While I can’t speak for my parents, I can guess that for them, the fear of me coming home along with the hope that this life I was beginning to build in Los Angeles, was what helped that leap.

“Relationships you think will last forever can END in an INSTANT.”

You think Recovery is Hard…LIFE is HARDER

It was hard from the get go. And as I alluded to earlier, each time I thought it couldn’t get harder, it did. Recovery went up and down, but in some regards that was the easy part. Yes, recovery is hard, but by this stage, I was under no false illusions that it was going to be easy. What I didn’t anticipate was how hard LIFE would be.

“If you struggle too much or too long… deal with it on your own…because that’s a sure way to push people away”

I know life is hard for everyone. And I never want to compare mine to others. Mainly because I know there is always going to be someone who has it worse off, and the yogi in me does believe in looking at the positives and finding gratitude for the blessings in my life. So I don’t want to negate or overlook those. The challenge I always had, and continue to have, is holding onto both. How do you talk about the difficulties, the real life struggles, while still holding onto the good parts? How do you talk about the struggles and hold onto the successes?

This is not something I have the answer to. I’ve been working on it for 8 years. Sometimes I feel closer to figuring this out, and other times I don’t. I think part of the reason is because our society doesn’t like both. It confuses us. How can someone be depressed, avoid returning phone calls, cry every single night, and struggle to get dressed…and at the same time, attend yoga class, laugh and giggle with fellow students, and be cheerful and well-liked at work. Those are opposites and contradict one another.

Holding onto Both

The closest idea I have as a possible “answer” (and i don’t really mean answer…more like one possibility worth exploring) is to not to avoid talking about the struggles AND the successes, the sadness AND the joy, and all the moments in between; keep talking about them but don’t allow the meaning of one experience to become the THE defining moment. Share all the stories, so a rich description develops.

Maybe that’s the purpose of this…

Personal therapy is excellent, but what happens when it ends? Life, complete with its unexpected illnesses, car accidents, broken backs, financial stress, past traumas, and relationship woes, is waiting right outside the door. It doesn’t matter if you have another therapy session in a few days, a few weeks, a few months, or a few years. LIFE is there, how are you going to face it?

What will you do when therapy ends?