priorities

I'm caught in a strange predicament. 

I'm trying to figure out how to prioritize prioritizing things in my life. Is that redundant? Does that even make sense? I don't know. It doesn't feel like enough for me to say that I need to work on my priorities. I'm not even sure that my brain grasps the idea. 

Does anyone else feel like everything is number one on their list of priorities? Am I the only one who, when faced with the task of creating a list, finds myself with 47 things that all are labeled as 'number one'?

Starting things and then not finishing them because I get distracted by a new thing--another project--something that seems more important. This seems like the soundtrack of my adult life. Call it ADHD, but part of me is suspect to this being an issue for me without that diagnosis in the picture.

EVERYTHING IS IMPORTANT!!!

How can I prioritize working over a relationship or creating art over making money or cleaning over getting groceries or working out over serving friends? I can't. That's the answer to that. I simply cannot. 

Urgent vs. important: What's the difference? Is there a difference? Probably. In the large scheme of things, I value connections and relationships and my passions vastly more than money, jobs, or possessions. But...when it gets to the point that I'm consistently "living by my values" then I begin to only choose relationships over taking care of myself and making sure I am "comfortable." And don't even get me started with my own mental health. I will drive myself into the wall to make sure others are served even if it ends with me having a panic attack because I didn't prioritize MYSELF. Then it's crash and burn and repeat. 

So... is this an issue of prioritization, distraction, procrastination, balance (or lack thereof), or am I confusing them all for one another? Are they all the same?? Is my overthinking of this matter ironically making me neglect my priorities?

I can make list after list but what it comes down to, I think, is my inner battle of being an overly creative human being in a world that doesn't really cater to my wishes. And that's fine. I get it. But when all I want to do is write and dance and create but the world is telling me 900 different things I actually should be doing in order to be an adult I freeze and then frantically act and any sense of "priorities" gets squished by anxiety and confusion and procrastination due to the aforementioned mind-f*cks.

So is it my priorities that I need to work on, or is it prioritizing my priorities? Or is it prioritizing that I need to prioritize my priorities and stop being a flop? I think I just talked myself in circles. All I know is that I have 12 things I should (???) be doing right now, but alas I choose to talk myself into yet another existential crisis that will likely last until the end of time.

That's all. 

on post-traumatic stress disorder

Like physical trauma to one's body, emotional trauma can leave an eternal scar. A scar that won't disappear no matter how much cocoa butter you smother it with. A scar that unwelcomely hangs around...making you uncomfortable because it's just there.

After trauma, most go through a grieving or healing period. Often--in fact--most times, the individual moves on from the event that caused them such distress and goes on to live a "normal" life. For 3.6% of the population, this is not the case.

Without going deeply into the complex, underlying factors that contribute to one's susceptibility to develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), genetics play a huge role as well as the presence of anxiety, depression, or other mental stressors that the individual already lives with.

I'm speaking today solely on my experience living with PTSD.

First Scenario.

I wake up to myself kicking. It's, what, 3 a.m.? 

I'm sweating. My sheets are tangled around my calescent body, and my hair is stuck to my tear-stained cheeks. My throat aches and feels raspy--like I just was at a wild concert the night before, singing loudly. But I wasn't at a concert. I was just screaming.

I frantically look around my dark, somber apartment. Lunging for the closest light possible, I switch it on and assess my surroundings. I'm alone. Am I safe? I'm not sure yet. I have to be positive.

I hesitate. I stand and hastily inch toward the bathroom to turn the shower as cold as possible. I immerse myself only long enough to rinse the perspiration off my body and awaken me enough to think clearly. I'm safe. I think.

I dry off and head back into my dimly lit room. My fan hums, and I'm glad it does, because I don't think I could handle complete and utter silence.

I'm safe.

I half try to remember what my nightmare was, but the other half of me tries to think about absolutely anything else. The first half of me wins, and I remember. It was a flashback. It was the same damn flashback as always.

I don't fall back asleep that night. Or any other night that this happens, which is usually three times a week... on a good week.

Three times a week that I relive one of the traumatic experiences I have lived through and it feels just as real as when it first happened. 

To me, though... this is progress. This used to happen every night and several times throughout the day. I have no identifiable triggers at the moment except my wild, imaginative, sleeping mind. This came through a lot of therapy and my own healing process.

Second scenario.

I wake up to a voice. It's, what, 2 a.m.? 

I'm sweating. I'm thoroughly unaware of where I am or what is happening. My hair is stuck to my cheeks.

I dazedly look up in my dark apartment. I see a figure. A male figure. I slide away as fast as possible. Threat. Threat. Threat. Threat. Run. Get away. Protect yourself.

It takes a while. Seconds? A minute? Before I realize that this figure is not going to harm me. He's here to protect me from myself. From my memories.

Will I always be scared like this? Will it always take me a moment to trust that this is not a threat? I'm not sure. I'm still writing my story.

when anxiety holds you back (all of the the damn time)

I love playing soccer.

I'm standing across the street from a soccer field where 10 of my closest friends are playing a heated game of soccer. Naturally, my first instinct is to run over there and join in.

The problem is...I'm chained to a wall on the other side of the street.

It's not a metal chain--more of a zip-tie that could most definitely be broken if I really tried. 

So there I am...tied to this wall as I see all of my great friends playing my favorite sport right in front of me. 

I want to run over there but that zip-tie is somewhat in my way. I decide it is not worth it. I decide to stay stuck to the wall.

Anxiety. Like an abusive partner who won't let me break free. He wants all of my attention and keeps me from feeling free and full of joy.

Certain opportunities are a distant dream that I cannot seem to grasp because anxiety just won’t grant me its license. There are so many undertakings that I crave, and still, the trepidation is far too much. What even is this fear? Where does this come from? I can yearn for something more than anything in the world but this cruel, inexplicable safety harness keeps me from reaching toward it. 

It is so much more than a comfort zone--a safety net. No...it is a locked door to which a key has not yet been generated. It is a plastic bag that has been super glued to my neck.

I have not given up. I'm crafty. I know a great locksmith. I own goo-gone.

I have not given up. I'm just vigilant and moving forward.

A Letter to My 17 Year Old Self

Like most of my posts, this could be triggering to those that have suffered from physical or emotional abuse.

Dear Annalise,

It hurts me to write you this letter knowing already that you will receive it six years too late. Regardless-- there are things that I wish to share with you.

You are worth so much more than you think. Your limiting beliefs regarding your self worth and capabilities have such a strong hold on you. No amount of reassurance will make you realize this yet, and you're going to settle for way less than you deserve. And you're going to settle a lot... because you don't even know that you're settling. 

You are going to make A LOT of dumb, impulsive, naive, and misinformed decisions. These decisions will lead to heavy consequences and looking back you will realize that they were mistakes. You will always realize, in hindsight, that the feeling you had before making the poor choice was your intuition telling you no. You will continue to push that voice away to receive instant gratification, pleasure, fun, and excitement. You will take a very, very long time to learn to TRUST that voice and to stop pushing it away. Even when you learn what that voice is you will struggle to listen. You're still struggling with that as you read this. Sorry 'bout it.

You are about to face the absolute best but absolute worst years of your life. The next three and a half years of college will be quite hard, but mainly carefree, blissful and FUN. College will be the best time you've experienced so far.. Don't get too excited. You will then be faced with the hardest year and a half of your life thus far. Be prepared and never give up. Sounds cheesy...but really, I'm getting to the good part eventually. Remember this: when you make it through that awful time, you will again be on the upswing.

You are going to encounter people that change you so much. You'll make best friends and lose best friends. You are going to be surrounded with several toxic people, and a handful of amazing people. You are going to think you're happy doing certain things and will later realize that you probably (read: definitely) weren't so happy after all. 

You're going to be emotionally abused. You won't recognize it as abuse and you'll continue to allow it in your life. You'll let that tear you apart until your soul is so lost that your worth is at 0% battery. When you finally break free, you'll be physically abused. You'll be sexually abused more times than one. More than two, even. That will be suffocating and that will stick with you for years before you fully process what even happened to you. I hate to mention it now, but you're still working on that one.

You're going to fall in love and be in a very supportive relationship. You'll be happier than you've ever been... You're going to be certain that he's the one. But he won't be. No, really. I know you can't fathom that at 19, 20, or 21 years old after a three year relationship--but he wasn't the one for you. He was in your life for a reason and certainly a season but you need to let go when it inevitably all comes crashing down. 

You are going to struggle a lot with an eating disorder, anxiety, and depression from 17 to 22. You're going to learn how strong you are by learning where you are weak. You will learn to identify your values as a human and you will learn that working toward your values every day will bring you closer to your true self. You will overcome these things and continue to work on them for life. Yes, you will. I promise. 

Eventually when you are almost at the age of 23 you will experience utmost serenity. You will feel a tranquil oneness--oneness with yourself. Oneness with your purpose, spirituality and the people and environment around you. You will realize that you have made it through hell and that even if you have to keep going, you can always make it through. You will become independent in every sense of the word--you will inspire others. You will use your empathy to make the world a kinder place. (You also will let your empathy turn you into an emotional sponge so be careful when you walk into a room...)

You will learn that the energy of others GREATLY affects you, and you will learn to carefully allot time to those individuals that enhance your positive energy and less time with those who drain you and drag you down. You will spend a lot of time figuring out what truly invigorates your soul and try to connect with how you were as a child. Blissful innocence. 

You will battle with quite a few health problems in the upcoming years, girl. But you always overcome them. I'm telling you right now--even the times that you technically have no heartbeat and your body should not be alive you WILL live. So don't let it scare you.

You will find yourself lying on the floor bawling too many times for me to count right now or ever. You'll also find yourself staring at a razor blade...deciding on a bottle of pills, and frantically trying to keep your car straight on the freeway so as not to crash into the divider as your brain desperately orders you to end it all. 

You're going to feel psychotic and messed up most of this time. Maybe you are. But maybe you are just the only one talking about it. Maybe you'll realize, in sharing your struggles, that there are so many others dealing with all of this same stuff, after all. Maybe you'll realize that we've been programmed as a society to do certain things and act a certain way and inevitably spend months trying to deprogram your brain from the way it was taught like Pavlov's dog what is "right" and what is "wrong". What is acceptable vs. what is unacceptable. What is fake vs. what is real. (Essentially you'll be in a state of existential crisis most of the time. It's fine.)

(All of those maybes are DEFINITELYS.)

Don't let this letter scare you. As I sit here writing this I have fought off the demons that had such an indomitable hold on me for the past few years. I sit here as a different person. I feel peace and joy and love. I AM peace, joy, and love. 

I wish I could have given you this letter sooner, Annalise...but unfortunately, I had to live it before I could write about it. Buckle up and get ready. 

Love,

Annalise

Living Your Truth

"There comes a point where you have to realize that you have to stop doing things to make your parents happy."

My older sister said those words to me a few weeks ago as I sat in her chair at the salon, head covered in foil. I carried that seemingly simple sentence around with me for weeks after we had a conversation that really changed the way that I now think about things.

We were discussing the immense progress I've made over the past year--through illness, several hospital stays, mental health crises, and more. As I shared what I had gone through the past few months with my sister, she stopped me.

I had just finished saying, "I want to do ____, but mom and dad would shoot me." 

That's when she uttered the words that I opened this post with--that's what kickstarted my major epiphany that I've been tirelessly sifting through these past few weeks. 

For almost 23 years I've made nearly every decision with not just my parents, but everyone else, in the forefront of my mind. If I do this, then they'll be upset. If I do that, then they'll make fun of me. If I don't do this, they'll stop supporting me. The list goes on... And so many times when I DID do the thing that elicited fear in me out of what my parents or others would think, their reaction would only confirm my hesitation in the first place. 

I realized that there were very few decisions made driven by pure passion, truth, and interest on my part. I don't have to hold the same beliefs as my parents, friends, acquaintances, or anyone else for that matter. I don't have to do what's considered "typical." I don't have to adhere to a timeline set by myself or anyone else because I've been brainwashed into conforming to some strange societal norm.

So many things we do every day are based on norms, and what is or is not acceptable. Even something like marriage--who says you have to get married? Who says you have to have kids? Or work a 9-5, conventional job straight out of college? Why is that just what's kind of...expected? Why am I feeling bad for not being married yet because so many of my peers are? That's absurd. My soul doesn't feel bad about that at all. My soul is like, "Yeah, I love being single. I'm way too freakin' independent and free-spirited to want marriage right now." I graduated from college almost two years ago and I'm not working a typical full time job. So? There's not some giant timeline that we're all supposed to follow. We're just conditioned to think that there is, and anything else is just outrageous and stupid. 

I'm not going to go into all of the strange realizations I've made or all of the digging and discovering I've done over the past few weeks. We all have to realize things for ourselves. But I do want to say that it's so extremely important to find out what we believe, pursue it, and live it. Live our truth.

I've been living my truth. I've been researching, learning, filling my brain with knowledge and using that knowledge to form educated opinions. Opinions and beliefs I "held" previously surrounding religion, politics, the environment, etc. have changed immensely simply because I found out for myself what I believe to be true. It wasn't that I had set in stone opinions before, I just didn't take the time to figure anything out so I rode on loved ones' coattails. 

I've been creating--I LOVE Youtube and social media, and despite what anyone else says or thinks I know that my use of both of those outlets helps not only others but myself. The transformation photo/caption I posted went VIRAL and made over 2.3 million impressions on Instagram. Since then, I've received an THOUSANDS of emails, direct messages, comments, etc. from people asking for help and advice. I absolutely love connecting with people and being able to inspire them. There's nothing WRONG with that. I shouldn't feel BAD about that, or let someone tell me that posting "half naked" photos is indicative of being a hoe when the purpose of the photo is to help those that struggle with eating disorders or self harm. Like, what? No. I'm done holding back to protect a certain image of myself, family, or otherwise. 

I've been going to therapy! There's absolutely nothing wrong with therapy. In fact, I wish every person on the planet had the opportunity to see a therapist a few times a month. I learn a lot about myself, my upbringing, and my values in my therapy sessions. 

I'm collaborating with companies and brands that I BELIEVE in, not just ones that will pay good money.

I've been doing things that keep my brain thinking, staying connected to others and making new connections and planning, but not obsessing over, my future plans. 

I've been so much less anxious and not depressed at all. For that I owe nutritional rehabilitation, therapy, medication, and simply waking the f**k up. Life is BEAUTIFUL. I have SO MANY THINGS I am going to do with my life. Helping others is one of the values that I hold highest...why on earth would I hold back?

I visited Los Angeles for a few days last week and stayed with that same older sister that gave me advice a few weeks ago. We had a blast together--we hung out, talked, I met up with friends in the area, I went to Disneyland, I went dancing... it was the best weekend I've had in a very, VERY long time. I felt like MYSELF. 

We talked a lot about what I want to do--with my blog, Youtube, a podcast, and taking on clients for an exciting new project. I also met up with Amanda Bucci before leaving LA and we talked about these things, as well. My eyes light up and I get butterflies when I think about doing these things that I love so much.

Several times during my stay my sister told me how she could tell that I was so happy and that my soul belonged in LA. I couldn't agree more. Normally when I'm boarding a plane to fly home I'm ready to be home and I'm done being out of my routine...but not this time. I wanted to cry boarding that plane. I've been wanting to move down there for over a year now, but due to all of my health problems I couldn't. Until now. 

I can think of a few reasons why I shouldn't move down there--why I should just stay in Northern California, get a full time job, play it safe...but that's NOT what I want to do. That's not what will make my soul happy. That won't serve me. That will create anxiety, stress, depression, and lack of fulfillment. 

I can think of A BILLION reasons why I should move there! My sister, so many friends and connections, so much opportunity in the field that I desire to work, so much opportunity for collaboration with likeminded individuals. So much potential. I have so much love to give and as an empath I need to be around others like myself. It's a different vibe where I live now.

I'm done playing it safe and living in a way that makes no sense for me. I don't want to do things in a conservative, old fashioned way. I am going to thrive. I am going to live my truth, help others, and do me. I'm a special soul, and I'm not going to let it go to waste. 

Shoutout to all of the other special souls out there who realize how weird it is that we're conditioned to do the things we do. Let's band together and start doing the opposite. :p

On Suicidality and Selfishness

**Trigger Warning: This article may be triggering to those struggling with suicidal ideation or other mental illnesses. **

"Suicide isn’t chosen. It happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain. When you wake up in extreme pain and crippling sickness and get mad at God for allowing you to wake up instead of thanking him for the day. Because you don’t want the day…because you have no choice in your life anymore.

Two years ago I didn’t know this, and I thought that people who died by suicide were selfish, insane, weak, and stupid. I thought they were willingly throwing away the life they were given because they were momentarily frustrated or sad or angry or even just pessimistic. I had no idea that I soon would be in the position of fighting intense suicidal urges. I didn’t realize that suicide was more than just being selfish and stupid. It’s just about utter hopelessness and an inability to cope with circumstances. A permanent solution for a temporary problem? Sometimes, yes. But what about when the problem isn’t temporary? Or when you have no way of knowing if it’s temporary and you truly cannot live another day in such agony…

That’s all suicide is about. Coping. A natural human instinct. I don’t feel bad or weak because of it. I don’t even feel like I truly WANT to die. Quite the opposite, really. I just have more pain than I can cope with. It’s certainly not my first choice to die but when every day is agonizing and this is what life is, I cannot see myself living like this any longer. "

You're probably wondering what kind of messed up website that excerpt came from. You might be frustrated with the author's opinion of suicide being a coping mechanism and not being selfish. Maybe you understand and wholeheartedly agree with the above words because you've fought demons of your own. Maybe you're not sure.

Well, I'll let you on a (not so little) secret. The author of that excerpt is me. That was a few paragraphs out of my six page long suicide letter that was composed on December 31, 2016.

If you know me, that lil' nugget of information may have completely caught you off guard. In fact, the mere fact that I'm even writing this post is because I'm convinced that what I went through for the past year and half had to happen so that I can help others. I didn't see it whatsoever whilst in the thick of it--but now I do. So here I am. If you're someone that's shocked and dismayed and embarrassed at the fact that I'm writing this post...you can go. I refuse to let my experience remain enclosed when releasing it can be beautiful for others. 

Long story short--if you're new here--I've struggled, since I was about 17 or 18, with various and varying degrees of mental illnesses. Anxiety, depression, an eating disorder, a somatic disorder, and PTSD being the main ones. I have zero shame in saying that because if there's one thing I've learned it's that I didn't make any one choice that gave me any of those diseases--they were brought on by genetics, trauma, life experiences, and honestly who knows what else. But it doesn't mean I'm crazy or a disgrace to society. The reason I say that is because I am a very high-functioning member of society--4.0 GPA, involved in all the extracurriculars, graduated college at 21, etc. I'm not some crazy monster that brought these things on herself. And neither is anyone that deals with similar mental disorders.

Anyway.

The first time I had a suicidal urge was September of 2016. I lived away from family at the time. I won't go into detail so as to avoid triggering others, but it caught me off guard and terrified me. I never understood what it would have to take to bring someone to consider suicide...I could never imagine any circumstance where I would want to do that. But all of 2016 had been so rough on me--several hospital admissions--one even 3 weeks long, failed therapy attempts, failed medications, countless medical problems that weren't getting resolved...

That's the insidious nature of depression and suicidal ideation--when the urges or severe episodes come, they COME. And death feels like the only option. Because you've exhausted all your resources--all your coping skills. And YOU'RE exhausted because every day is like World War 3 in your head.  

From September to December I continued to struggle, to varying degrees, with my depression. I was always baseline depressed, and then every week or two I would have a major depressive episode. We're talking can't-get-out-of-bed-or-shower-and-want-to-crawl-out-of-your-skin-and-die type of episode. Hallucinations. Catatonic states. Memory loss. A seizure, even.

The worst episode happened around December 28th of last year. I began my letter, unsure if I would magically come out of the episode and change my mind or not. On December 31st, a series of events led me to printing out the letter and leaving it on the kitchen counter for my parents and family. I then went upstairs to my room.

I'm still alive, clearly.

I don't need to go into specifics about that time. Soon after that day, I was admitted to a program that helped me deal with my severe depression, trauma and other mental health issues for a while. I moved to Denver for about three months. I also finally gained back all of the weight (and more) that I lost from my eating disorder because after being chronically very underweight for five years, my body needed to not be under physical stress so that my mind could work on healing, as well. I have not had a major depressive episode since that time--I currently see a therapist once or twice a week, a psychologist (because I'm finally on medication even though for so long I fought it), and this week I will be starting a type of therapy for trauma called EMDR. I underwent very extensive (and expensive) psychological testing that provided extensive information about my illnesses and treatment for them from here on out. I learned a lot about myself including that I struggle with a severe somatoform disorder. This disorder makes me get very, very sick whenever I am anxious or depressed or detects a threat--my body actually begins to attack itself for survival to protect me from my brain. This very disorder is what caused all of my health issues last year. 

I have spent the last five months working harder than I ever have on my mental health. Actually, on my physical health, too! For me, I needed to gain almost sixty pounds to finally not be underweight anymore and that required a lot of sitting and A LOT of food. I've had to wake up early for therapy appointments, undergo a lot of trial and error with many medications, take time off of work completely, and prolong going to graduate school just to focus on my mental health. My mental health was so poor that I almost killed myself on more than one occasion. If you're struggling, don't think you can just distract and avoid and get through it. Pay attention to your mental health.

I spent all of 2016 and the first few months of this year in the darkest, scariest, lowest place I've ever been in. I never saw a way out. Actually, I still have days where I see no way out. But I can say with 100% surety that I went through all of this because it's going to come in GREAT handy when I have my degree in Psychology and I'm helping others that struggle like I do. Maybe there will be another reason, too, (maybe I'll meet my future husband one day when I'm walking to therapy hahaha) but I know for sure that one of my top five values in life is empathy, and I have a whole lot of empathy to give.

Now, I'm returning to work, planning on returning to school in the fall, feeling (and looking, sheesh) physically a whole lot better, and dealing with only minor anxiety and occasional depressive, intrusive thoughts. I still have flashbacks but have hope that through EMDR I will be able to lower the pain that PTSD causes me and the effect it has on my other disorders. 

On the outside it's nearly impossible to tell that I struggle in the way that I do. So many people have sent me messages or left comments asking how I "got" all of these illnesses since I'm a successful, attractive, privileged, young, white woman. My answer for that is I DON'T KNOW HOMIE. But I do know that there are millions of others like me out there thinking they're the only one out there that has some of the nastiest demons inside but hides them inside a picture perfect exterior. 

Is suicide selfish? My answer is a big fat NOPE. Because trust me, I knew that my family and friends would be devastated and truthfully the one thing that could take the edge off my urges was thinking about my three little nieces growing up. I did not want to die because I was weak, or selfish, or careless, or cowardly. I just wanted a relief from the physical and mental pain I was experiencing. But the thing is--death isn't a relief. No one is relieved in the midst of suicide. In fact, it's a very painful experience. I've got a purpose here, and I'm not leaving until I've served that purpose. 

So, no, I am not weak, selfish, careless, or cowardly. I am STRONG as hell, EMPATHETIC more than you can imagine, THOUGHTFUL in every sense of the word, and BRAVE because I'm here today after making it through the hardest time of my life thus far. And brave because it's not over yet--I'm not healed, and I may never be. But with acceptance I don't have to be completely whole. I just have to be willing to fight. I look back on that day in December spent in the hospital (and the dozens of other times) and I am shocked by the person I am now. I do not feel victimized or sorry for myself because of my illnesses. I feel empowered and special and capable. I'm a warrior. 

Annalise

If you're struggling with thoughts of suicide, please reach out. Talk to a trusting family member, friend, therapist... or call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255

20 Disordered Eating Habits Deemed Acceptable

I want to keep this post short and sweet because I'm super passionate about this topic and I don't want my computer to explode due to rapid typing for 6+ hours.

Starving oneself, bingeing, purging, or overly fixating on 'clean' or 'healthy' foods is dangerous and often a sign of an eating disorder such as anorexia nervosa, bulimia, binge eating disorder, orthorexia, EDNOS/OSFED or ARFID. An eating disorder is a serious illness and treatment is needed in that situation.

But there are so many other eating habits that show disordered eating--many of these actions are actually deemed ACCEPTABLE and GOOD and RIGHT by society. Just because one does not have an eating disorder does not mean that they are "healthy" or a "normal eater." 

Let's take a look at some of the practices that can show disordered eating. Disordered eating can lead to a more serious eating disorder which is why it is so imperative to notice if you or a loved one are exhibiting any of these behaviors. You can make an effort to end these behaviors before they spiral into something that is much harder to come back from.

DISORDERED EATING LOOKS LIKE:

1. Obsessive calorie counting and fixation on staying at or below an unreasonable calorie goal.

2. Cutting food into tiny pieces; eating very slowly; eating very quickly; moving food around on the plate.

3. Only eating on certain plates or with certain utensils.

4. Using very small utensils to eat. 

5. Inflexible meal times.

6. Only eating at home.

7. Bringing prepared food with you everywhere you go. (EVEN IF you are eating ENOUGH and not restricting--bringing food everywhere is not something that is NORMAL therefore it is categorized as disordered. I'm not saying this is inherently wrong and it's totally fine to occasionally bring food obviously, but if you ALWAYS bring your own food and refuse to eat out or eat anything off of a plan, that's disordered. Period.)

8. Weighing or measuring food. COUNTING MACROS. Yep, that's disordered. Why? Because it's not NORMAL. Again, I'm not saying that you shouldn't count macros but just know that it is a form of disordered eating. Anything other than honoring your hunger and having to DO MATH in order to eat IS DISORDERED. 

9. Frequent weight fluctuations.

10. Yo-yo dieting.

11. Feelings of guilt and/or shame when you can't stick to your food plan (AND IT WILL HAPPEN BECAUSE WE ARE HUMANS THAT ARE NOT MEANT TO BE ON ANY TYPE OF DIET) or exercise habits.

12. Pre-occupation with food and/or body in a way that it negatively affects your life. Be honest here.

13. Using compensatory measures--exercise, restriction, laxatives, diuretics, fasting, purging--to make up for eating food. (Or using coffee, energy drinks, caffeine, or chewing gum to blunt hunger.) 

14. Only eating food with a certain macronutrient--usually protein.

15. NOT eating food with a certain macronutrient--usually carbs or fat. WE NEED CARBS, PEOPLE. Fat, too. But everyone likes to cut carbs because they think it is a quick fix. Nope. Have fun being hangry and fatigued.

16. A sudden interest in cooking/baking when before you had no interest; baking for others and not eating it; hoarding food that you never eat; baking protein treats ALL OF THE TIME (honestly real pancakes are better BYE).

17. Not eating before/after a certain time.

18. Intermittent fasting.

19. Any type of exclusionary diet (I'll let veganism/vegetarianism slide if it's for ethical reasons) such as: paleo, Atkins, low-carb, no-carb, South Beach, Weight Watchers, SlimFast...OR ANY FREAKING SKINNY TEATOX THAT JUST MAKES YOU POOP YOUR BRAINS OUT.

20. Anything other than eating when you're hungry and stopping when you're full (usually--sometimes it's cool to eat so much you want to pop) or living life without obsessively fixating on food/weight/exercise. That goes for bodybuilders and bikini competitors. Am I saying it's wrong to do those things? No. But just know that it's not normal--therefore, it is disordered. Just like it's not wrong to be a plastic surgeon but it IS wrong to go up to women and cut their boobs open and put silicone inside of them. Weird example maybe but hey I'm just proud of myself for not making this post 12 pages long.

These are only 20 of the habits that show disordered eating. This list is not all-encompassing. Doesn't that suck? Our society is disordered. Such a shame. Don't buy into it! Body knows best. What behaviors do you see that are disordered? Let me know down below.

*Dieting is the single most important risk factor for developing an eating disorder. Girls who diet moderately are 5 times more likely to develop an eating disorder than those who don't diet, and those who diet severely are 18 times more likely*

How Do I Cope With Being Raped?

This is a post that seems long overdue when I think about it, but then I realize that had I written this any time prior to right now I would not have been ready. I wouldn't have been able to truly share my experience. This post would have been too premature a year ago. Now, I'm ready.

There are an average of 288,820 victims (age 12+) of rape and sexual assault each year in the United States. One out of every six women will be raped in her lifetime (1). And those are just the ones that get reported. 

I am fairly certain that the actual number is MUCH higher. Why? Well, for one, I did not report my rape. Nope. And I know several others who did not report their rapes either. 

Statistics aside, I want to talk about the aftermath of being raped. It's not something that just happens and then you move on with your life as if nothing happened. Ha! If only. No--the effects of being raped are physically and emotionally scarring. 

I spoke about it in my story, but after I was raped my mind repressed the memory for over two years. It was not until I was in a therapy session, talking about relationships and sex when I had a flashback and experienced my first episode of PTSD. This is fairly common in rape victims and victims of other traumatic experiences (2). 

After that first incident I began the process of healing from this trauma. I want to share with you some of the ways you can begin to heal if you have experienced any kind of sexual trauma.

The most important thing is to first realize that 1) it's not going to be a short and painless process, and 2) you're going to have to commit to working at it every single day and you cannot give up if it gets too hard. Stopping before you're finished will ultimately result in lasting pain.

Next, you must internalize the fact that it was not your fault. I don't mean just saying that you know it wasn't your fault--I mean really, truly dig deep and ask yourself if you actually know that. Are you hesitant to go out dressed a certain way or act a certain way because you're scared something could happen? Do you push potential partners away or not let people in? These can all be signs that your brain still believes that YOU were the problem. 

You need to commit to FEELING YOUR FEELINGS. Though we as a society feel like it's somehow noble to just "shake it off" or "distract ourselves" from real issues...it's not! Those feelings WILL come back and they WILL come back 10x stronger. Feel your feelings as they come and don't judge the feelings. Don't try to outrun the cruel shadows that follow you. Also, do not turn to drugs or alcohol to mask the pain of your experience. Again, you are digging a deeper hole and not solving the real problem. 

I should have mentioned this next one at the start: a key part of this process is to surround yourself with those who truly love and care about you. Distance yourself from everyone else. 

You cannot change the fact that you were raped but you can control 1) how you react to the situation (to an extent) and 2) your future. Yes, the rape itself inevitably changed you and made you a different person than you were before--for better or for worse. (I like to look at it from the lens of better. I needed to go through that experience to strengthen me and open my eyes and heart.) But don't let the offender win. You deserve to have an amazing, fulfilling life and to be free from the mental chains that currently tie you down. 

Therapy. If I had one wish it would be to make having a therapist a law. Seriously. I think EVERYONE should have a therapist. When you are a victim of trauma, I think it is crucial to explore different types of therapy. Eye-movement desensitization (EMDR) is an extremely useful form of therapy for rape. This type of therapy allows you to access repressed memories and process through them. There are various other forms of therapy, and though I will not go into each individually I will list a few: neurofeedback, sensorimotor psychotherapy, somatic experiencing, and of course basic talk therapy. My counsel to you would be to find what works for you. I can only speak to talk therapy and EMDR, and I would recommend those two as a starting point for everyone. Start with talking to a therapist, and then as you have worked through much of the trauma begin to explore EMDR if you think it will be helpful. Remember--things usually get harder before they get easier when dealing with severe, traumatic repressed memories. 

Lastly, I want to list a few things that have helped me tremendously as coping mechanisms in my recovery process. These are things you can do in the moment of distress--they are short-term fixes to hard feelings that you can utilize while the long-term process is worked through. Without these I would probably be curled up in a corner holding a back of ice all day. (That's another tip--hold a bag of ice or frozen orange if you're starting to experience depersonalization!!)

Quick coping tools: yoga or stretching, listening to podcasts, reading fiction, talking to loved ones, taking a hot bath, meditating, visualizing, baking, writing, journaling, coloring, doing anything creative. 

Finally, give yourself grace. This is not easy. It will not be easy to heal from. But it IS possible, and you will do it. I still experience small bumps in my recovery--just last week I had a flashback in Target (ugh, way to ruin my favorite place ever) and had to run out of the store crying. It's so important to process through these difficult emotions NOW so that you can move past the traumatic experience and continue living your life and finding joy. 

References:

1. https://www.rainn.org/statistics/victims-sexual-violence

2. http://mentalhealthdaily.com/2015/06/15/repressed-memories-causes-mechanisms-coping-strategies/

What Not to Say to Someone With Depression (& What to Say Instead)

I recently talked about what makes depression a real illness and discussed how it can affect one's life. By pointing out that one cannot empathize with someone who is depressed unless they themselves have dealt with depression (and even then, all of our experiences are different and range in duration & severity) I feel that it is now important to talk about how we should talk to someone that struggles with depression. 

*First, a preface that turned into a bit more of a rant than I intended*

As a millennial, I hear a lot from older generations that we millennials are "too sensitive" and "take everything personally" and "get triggered too easily." I have a huge problem with these accusations because first of all, there is no such thing as being "too sensitive." Sensitivity is not a character flaw nor is it something that should be fixed. Sensitivity is simply part of the way we were brought up--a result of all of our life experiences and situations that molded us into who we are today. If a parent ever tells you that you're "too sensitive" then maybe you should turn that finger right back around (please don't do this unless you want to be shot) (I'm kidding...but probably don't HAHA) and tell them that they're the one who coddled you when you fell as a toddler or became enraged over teachers grading your papers unfairly...the list goes on. (I'm not saying those are bad things, because they're not. But everything that happens in our lives affect who we are.) The things we experienced as children inevitably shaped who were are today, and aside from that fact... some of us are actually just born highly sensitive.

I've had a soft, sensitive, tender heart since I popped out of the womb. I've always taken things personally and shed tears more often than what I assume to be the norm. (Is it normal to cry when you drive past a dead squirrel? Asking for a friend.) But I also am very compassionate and kindhearted and receptive to others' needs because of my sensitivity. It is not my fatal flaw, and I shouldn't be "less sensitive." And neither should you. My point in bringing up sensitivity is that oftentimes articles that counsel "What Not to Say to ___" get criticized (again, in my experience it is usually by older folks) for being nonsense because they are making us all too sensitive. "Those people should just toughen up--I shouldn't have to censor myself to make someone else feel better!" Well guess what? Mental illness rates are higher than ever before. Of course, there are a myriad of things that contribute to this--I'll save that for another article. But I have had so many insensitive things said to me that have sent me spiraling into a relapse. I struggled with severe anorexia nervosa for 3 years of my life and relapsed four times. I still relapse with anxiety & depression (honestly, almost daily) and my PTSD is triggered at the most random of times. Not every relapse is due to a comment from someone else, but a lot of times those comments are what push me over the edge. Sometimes comments from others have literally sent me so deep into a depressive episode that my hopelessness was enough to want to die.

If we can teach people how to be more considerate and understanding to those of us struggling with mental illness, why wouldn't we? Why wouldn't I use my voice to try to reach those people who could potentially say the RIGHT thing to someone who is on the edge of life and death? Call me too sensitive, but I'm just trying to save some precious, vulnerable humans out there. Why? BECAUSE I'M SENSITIVE. Sue me. Don't sue me. I have anxiety. And no lawyer. Okay. 

*end rant, and on to what you came here for...*

When someone struggling with depression thinks/says...

No one understands.

What to say: You're not alone in this. I'm here for you no matter what, even if I don't understand I will try my very best. (And then actually do that.) 

What not to say: Other people have it way worse than you. (OR ANY VARIATION OF THIS !!!)

This is hopeless. I wish to die.

What to say: You are so important to me. If you're gone I will be broken and devastated. (Don't guilt them, but let them know they're important to you. Depressed individuals are more likely to put others first due to their [usual] hatred toward themselves and lack of prioritizing their own feelings.)

What not to say: You're being so dramatic. You don't actually want to die. Don't tell me that. You're not really going to kill yourself. (All of those things are so wrong and yes, they probably DO want to die and VERY WELL MAY kill themselves.)

I can't do this anymore.

What to say: Just give 'em a hug. And reassure them that you know they can even if they can't see it and that you're there to help. If it helps, use the "10 second" rule. You can do anything for 10 seconds. Then repeat that over and over and over and over...hey, they made it another day. 

What not to say: Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There's nothing wrong. Your life is fine. (You can't compare your experiences here. No matter how seemingly 'fine' one's life is, depression is a disease and can affect anyone at any time. Celebrities seem to have it all, right? Isn't it odd the amount of celebrities that go to rehab but the amount of joyous minimalists?) 

I'm too broken. I'm stupid. I'm insane.

What to say: You're not going crazy. Depression is real but let's try to manage it.

What not to say: You're so negative. You're so miserable. Be more optimistic. You're always depressed. I'm tired of you complaining all the time. Snap out of it. (Avoid all "you're so" statements. Unless you're saying fabulous or funny. Or sexy.)

I'm such a burden to everyone.

What to say: I'm not going to leave, abandon, or give up on you. So buckle up, and don't worry about me. I'll make sure to take care of myself, too, so that I can be there for you. <--Only say this if you truly are stable and can take on the responsibility. 

What not to say: Then get better so we can stop having to worry about you. I think your depression is a way of punishing me. It's your own fault. Stop being so needy. I've had to miss so much work/school/other obligations for you.

You don't get it. No one gets it.

What to say: No, I don't. But I can be whatever you need me to be and try to offer my compassion.

What not to say: Yeah, I get it. I was depressed once for several days. I just started working out/eating clean/drinking tea and then I was okay. (DO NOT OFFER ANY HEALTH, FITNESS, SLEEP, SUPPLEMENT ADVICE UNLESS YOU ARE A DOCTOR.) (ALSO: NO I WILL NOT GO VEGAN.)

And, finally, here are some more things you should NEVER say. Like, ever:

Why are you depressed?

It's all in your head.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

You have it so good.

Happiness is a choice.

Have you been praying?

Just get out more.

You're being selfish.

A person your age should be having the time of your life! (<--Ouch, thanks dude.)

Depression is a symptom of your sin against God. (Yep, I've really heard that one.)

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I can't be around you right now, you're so depressing/miserable/rude.

You should get a hobby. (Yes, let me take up tango while my body is so fatigued that I cannot move!)

This too shall pass! 

You are responsible for your happiness! Change your mind! 

My favorite is when someone asks how I'm doing, and I respond honestly (I'm not about saying 'I'M GOOD HOW ARE YOU?!' when really I want to throw up everywhere and crawl in a hole) and then they are caught off guard so they say, "Oh... well you look great!!" That's usually what happens. Like..."Oh, thanks? I feel terrible and wish I was not alive right now but I'm glad my face is aesthetically pleasing to you. Have a blessed day." 

So what helps?

What helps me is getting a back rub. Sometimes I feel like talking and sometimes I don't. Usually, I don't but I should or I stay stuck in my head. I need someone to listen and respond without offering advice or trying to "fix" things. Depression comes and goes in waves. I know that the super intense moments will eventually pass, so I just have to get through them one at a time.

What would you add to this list of what to say or not to say? If you struggle with depression, what helps you? 

Photos courtesy of Gemma Correll (She's amazing!)