Quiet After The Storm

The dust settled. Over 102 miles, 5 hours, lunch, 2 houses, 2 schools, 1 track and field, and a frozen yogurt later: I feel sure I am supposed to be alive. Just 4 months ago I was writing suicide letters to loved ones. “Dear [therapist name],” I started, but never could finish that one. Tears…

Putting Words To Unknown

What part of me is hurting right now? It’s little-me. It’s the little-me that doesn’t even know what happened to her. And, it’s teen-me who feels all of it in her body, feels lost, feels frozen, needs help, needs love, and needs to be held through all the non-verbal pain, without question, without conditions. I…

An Astonishing Body

When I give my body the opportunity, it speaks. Sometimes tiny bits of shattered puzzle pieces clinging to my nervous system escape into safety and sometimes several pieces already put together become exposed all at once. It’s always frightening. It’s always intense. It’s always incredibly healing. I never believed my eating disorder was holding trauma…

Touch Hunger

I need emotional safety and support. Consistently, continually, unconditionally. All parts of me need this. Little-me is just best at asking for it and not judging it. I am just human. Nothing is inherently wrong with me for being an emotional and sensitive person—maybe that authentic piece of me is actually a gift. Craving non-sexual…

Feeling Hard

PC: @notesfromyourtherapist Yesterday when I walked into therapy, my body could barely wait to get through the door to start feeling everything I'd been holding onto over the weekend. As soon as I sat down on the floor, weighted blanket covering my body, tears flooded. I felt relieved it wouldn't take 45 minutes to get…

24 July 2020, 12:42PM

"I'm going to yell." My therapist says, warning me and trying to give me the opportunity to do the same. "No! Please don't!" I am pleading, because fear has taken over my entire body. I entered angry. So angry. It's a wildfire burning through each cell, attempting to escape but my skin is cement --…

You’re Losing Me

The child in me feels neglected. I am suddenly not interested in getting back to safety. Maybe because I’m not sure where safety is. As a child I used to go searching for spots of safety outside and that’s exactly what I’ve found myself doing the last couple days. The search was futile and just…