Piece by Piece

It's the day after Christmas and I am taking down our decorations.  Typically I will wait until 'Little Christmas' on January 6th, however I am so over this year I am ready to move on. I have said numerous times that it just didn't feel like the holiday season this year and now Thanksgiving and Christmas have come and gone and I am still feeling just as empty.  I told a friend the other day that my spirit is gone, someone stole it from me, and I let it happen. There have been a few times in my life where my kindness has been confused for flirtation.  My kindness let someone sexually harass me in the work place and not get reprimanded because the person I told was my husband, and it was five years after it happened.  I recall thinking it was my fault because maybe my dress was too short.  In the most recent of cases my kindness was taken advantage of, I was manipulated and left to question my own sense of being. I have been a strong advocate of being yourself and s

This isn't your obligatory Thanksgiving post about how grateful I am for my friends and family...that should happen every day, so if you are posting strictly for the fact that it's Thanksgiving maybe you should consider being more thoughtful every day and not just for a holiday.  Sorry, I'm not sorry. I had a friend ask me the other day, 'Is Thanksgiving hard for you?'.  It took me a second to understand what she meant.  'Well yeah', I thought, holidays are hard in general because of the stigma I have put on them, but then I realized that she was asking if it was hard because of my eating disorder.  I was taken aback by her question because I do not recall anyone ever asking me before.  My response was that it used to be, but this year is different because we are straying home.  She acknowledged the difficulty that the holidays can have on someone who struggles because of all the food and all the people.   For years I felt like people were watching me

If I posted the pictures that I took of Bean today, one would think that we had the best day ever and I have such a sweet baby.  Here is the truth, today was hard, and Bean can be sweet when she wants to be.  Today wasn't one of those days (for the most part).  A day like today prompted crying, a timeout and a beer...all of those were for me.  Very few people prepare you for what it's really going to be like to be a mom, and then boom you're living it. I almost had a complete breakdown while driving today as my child screamed in the backseat.  I knew the only thing I could do was reach out to one of my best friends to help me out.  Very rarely do people tell the world of social media how much of a hot mess their child was that day but I knew that my friend would keep it real for me.  When you are out in public and your child pitches a fit for no good reason (at least not to you) and other people stare and make comments, it makes you feel like there is not only something

I think I've been a codependent for most of my life, only I didn't know what it was until I met my first therapist.  About nine years ago I had sought out a therapist because of some traumatic experiences I was facing.  It was within the first few sessions when she recommended I read a book called, 'Codependent No More' by Melodie Beattie.  I had never heard of the term before, and if I had, I simply ignored it not thinking it had anything to do with me.  I remember reading the book and thinking, 'Oh my gosh, this is my life.'  It's been a 'diagnosis' that I forget about until I have a breaking moment and I remember.   I was recently listening to the podcast, Work in Progress by Sophia Bush, where she had comedian Whitney Cummings as her guest.  On the podcast they touched on a number of subjects, with codependence being one of them.  Cummings did a great job in explaining what being codependent means, especially in ways I found relatable.  Like an

I feel very cliche by saying, 'It gets better' but it does.  I recently posted on instagram about how I was in a dark place...however I feel like that was not enough... it is on my heart to share exactly where I was.   I woke up on a Sunday morning and just felt bad.  I have had many mornings like this, I wake up, feel sad, I don't know why I'm feeling like this and I wallow and cry on and off all day.  On this Sunday I was feeling extremely depressed, all I wanted was to snuggle my baby, and all she wanted was 'dada'.  That was the tipping point for me on this particular morning.  The thoughts that proceeded to fill my brain were, 'You suck', 'You're a terrible mom', 'Nobody would notice or care if you were dead'.  I wanted to hurt myself so bad, I truly believed that I was so worthless that no one would notice if I was gone.  In that moment of loud negative voices I heard a little voice that told me to talk about it.  I needed to

Well, we did it.  Tuesday marked one year that Bean's been in daycare and one year back to work for me.  I didn't really make much of it but my friend high fives me (my favorite) and says, 'Way to go, that's huge!'  The more I thought about it the more I realized that it really was a big deal.  Being a mom is hard.  Being a stay at home mom is hard.  I can only speak to my experience as a working mom, and damn...it's been hard. Going back to work was something that I wanted to do but also something I had to do.  I felt as though I received some grief from people for going back but the truth is it's not the 90's and money doesn't hold that same value.  First day back I remember one of my fears of having Bean in daycare was that she would begin to think that her teacher was mom since she spent that much more time at school than at home.  I also remember that I didn't cry when I dropped her off on her first day, and for that I felt guilty.

I've been feeling the need to write, but haven't had one solid thought.  I've been struggling lately with my depression and anxiety and some days it's really hard to get out of bed and get my shit together, but I do.  I push through and most days I feel accomplished that I did; other days not so much.  I often feel like that commercial where the person is holding up a stick with a smiley face to hide her real feelings.  You can be sure to find me with a smile and a fairly good attitude, and while I am a pretty happy person, much of that can be an act...  I've also been experiencing a lot of frustration in life and to be frank, I'm pissed off at so many things. I'm disappointed in myself.  I am often surrounded by gossip and people talking shit for no good reason.  Instead of choosing to walk away, I listen and sometimes I partake in the conversation.  You don't know what people are going through in their lives, so does talking negatively about them d

She lives her life behind a mask. And in the off chance that someone asks, she replies, 'I'm good, I'm great, I'm fine.' They ask out of obligation, not because they care. The rest of the world around her is so distracting, it doesn't quite seem fair. Everyone's got their issues, and I've got mine too, but if you stopped to ask sincerely,  think of what you might hear? 'It seems that you are too preoccupied with someone who is getting high;  you don't seem to try to notice struggle right in front of your eyes.' 'I don't think you really care about my recovery...you're more concerned with what weight YOU think you should be.' You told her you don't want to ask her because you don't know what to say. Just tell her that you love her, and it will be okay. She lives each day with a check list of all the things she's done. It never even crosses her mind that she should be her number one. Putting

One of the hardest things that I have struggled with in mommy-hood has been feeding my sweet Beanie girl.  Now, you may be thinking, well breast feeding IS hard.  I'm sure that is true from what I hear, but I did not ever breastfeed.  Go ahead and mommy shame me, I dare you.   Let me digress for a moment.  Before giving birth to Bean, I felt as though I HAD to breastfeed because that's what society makes you think is the right thing.  Now, for anyone who knows me, I am a rule follower and need to be liked, so naturally one would think that I would choose to breastfeed.  But in all honesty the thought of it made me uncomfortable.  I had heard about the struggles that it had caused for many new moms and knowing myself and my anxiety I didn't know if it was something I even wanted to attempt.  Luckily, I spoke to one of my best friends about this prior to giving birth.  She made me feel a million times better and made me feel like I shouldn't feel bad about it...I need

Three years ago today, I took my first steps into a new life; a life in recovery.  Soon, Bean will take her first steps.  Just yesterday I was helping my little girl walk across our yard.  Not too long from now she will not need my hands to help her walk; she will be able to walk on her own.  She may initially be scared.  She will fall, she will get a few bumps and bruises along the way, and she may very well cry, but she will no doubt get back up and keep at it.  That sounds like a metaphor for life in general, and I can vouch that those exact things have happened to me over the past three years. Of course I could tell you what I was wearing as I stepped off of the plane into RDU airport, and damn I was a mix of emotions.  I was so excited to see Stefan again, and damn I was terrified.  What if he didn't like how I looked? What if I relapsed? What if I wasn't strong enough to make it?  The first question shouldn't even be a question because if Stefan likes how I look whe

As I laid my head down on my pillow last night, I knew that I made it another day without anyone asking me what I ate.  To my eating disorder brain this is amazing.  I didn't have to tell anyone that I didn't eat, that I skipped most of my needed intake for the day.  The Tracy I've been slowly losing shouted from the depths of my body that something was wrong.  I closed my eyes and listened to the white noise of our air purifier, felt the softness of my sheets, and the rapid beating of my heart.  Another anxiety attack?  No, this was a different kind of racing, it was the racing I have felt before when my heart was doing too much work.  I literally thought, I could be having a heart attack.  I tossed and turned 90% of the night and when I did sleep, I dreamt of all the things I do wrong...all the imperfections I have; the imperfect person I am. For weeks now I have been walking a slippery slope in recovery.  My anxiety has increased, my attitude has been sour, and my inta

Today, I waited for my coffee and overheard the conversation of a patron and, whom I presume to be, the owner of the coffee shop.  The conversation hit me hard due to some recent things I do not wish to share at this time.  It really impacted me. The conversation went something along the lines of this ('P' is patron 'C' is for Coffee owner): P - "Did you recognize my kids? They used to come in here all the time with their dad..." C - "..." P - "That's why we are all here, for his funeral." C- "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, what was his name?" P - "Name shared" C - "Do you have a picture of him" Patron pulls out phone, and shares a picture of him. C - "I know exactly who that is, what happened" P - "He took his own life." C - "I'm so sorry." Condolences were shared, then the owner tended to my coffee and I asked if the gentleman was a regular.  He said, &quo

Today was a great day.  It was the first day in quite a while that I got to spend the full day with my sweet girl.  Stefan has been terribly sick the past two days, so it was a girls day today. The past few weeks I've been struggling pretty hard with my depression.  I haven't talked about it to many people because a large part of me doesn't want to burden anyone with my 'issues'...so I do what I've always done and stuff.  I told Stefan that Bean was the only reason I felt like getting up in the morning.  The reason for my depression is feeling depleted.  I've been feeling as though I'm giving and giving and not getting much in return.  While feeling this way, I go to pick up Bean from school one day only to hear that my sweet girl was crawling.  I didn't feel anything upon hearing that.  I didn't feel joy, nor did I feel sadness...I was numb.  Now I knew that I would miss the day that Bean would start crawling, or at least I was prepared to mis

The hottest thing the past week or so seems to be the 10 year challenge: how hard did aging hit you.  I chose not to take part in this challenge just because I simply didn't want to.  I did, however, go back and look at the picture from more than 10 years ago...one of my first ever Facebook pictures.  What did I see? A girl dressed in all pink, who looks like she was 16, smiling.  If I showed you a picture of myself today, you would see the same thing, except maybe now I could pass for 18.  Some people age gracefully, while some others don't, but what does that represent besides another comparison?  You cannot look at someone-else's picture and know what was going on in their lives at that time; how many of you smile through the pain?  I know I did.   What I chose to do instead was think about what my life has looked like the past 10 years.   In the past 10 years I have seen my worst days and my best days.  10+ years ago I was sick.  I was crying out for help but not