the subthreshold

I had a mild setback with my workouts.

Last Thursday, we did a lot of upper body stuff: pushups, burpees, bag work, & mitt work. I guess I was a little too hardcore because I was ACHING the next day; everything from the chest up hurt.

A few days later, the pain on my right subsided, but my left felt worse. Upon closer inspection, I noticed a bulge on my ribs under my left armpit; it was painful to the touch. I was so swollen that it was actually messing with the nerves in my arm/hand.

After much freaking out and Googling, I determined it was only a strain (and not a tear).* I had to accept I wouldn't be able to box for a couple weeks.

Boo.

On top of this workout-reducing injury, I have gained about 4 pounds in the past 2-3 weeks. The rational part of my brain understands this is most likely muscle weight, especially since I've been better about eating protein after my boxing class. The irrational, anxious, eating disordered part of my brain screams, "OMG, IT'S FAT! IT'S FAT! FAT FAT FAT. OMG, YOU'RE GAINING WEIGHT. YOU ARE FAT." Then: "Where is the fat going? Can I see it? Is it here?" *pinch* "Here?!" *pinch pinch* "If I can't work out, it's going to get worse! I HAVE TO WORK OUT. I can't lose what I've gotten out of this so far! I HAVE TO WORK OUT."

I wish that part of me would disappear already. I want to think rationally. I want to do what makes sense.

(I have done some CRAZY things before, but I'll talk about some of those in another post.)

"As a general guideline, it appears that one third of patients fully recover [from an eating disorder], one third retain subthreshold symptoms, and one third maintain a chronic eating disorder." - Cleveland Clinic

I am definitely in the "subthreshold" category. It never goes away.
Maybe I can quiet it, or at least recognize it, but it will always be there, whispering snide remarks, promising mitigation of my anxieties, tempting me to be its only friend...

Even now, when I am HEALTHY – sculpted, thin, eating well – it whispers.

Even when my boyfriend tells me I'm beautiful and he loves my curves, it whispers.
Even in the moments when I think I can appreciate my own body, it whispers.

I have realized therapy for me will be a lifelong process. Not continuously, but continually.

I was talking with my therapist about this, and I named several times I already know will warrant me going back: when I find out I'm pregnant one day (and throughout the pregnancy as my body changes), during significant changes in my children's lives, through moves or job changes, etc.

(My therapist applauded my self-awareness, at least!)

And I say "going back" because my workplace is switching insurance companies and my therapist will no longer be covered come August 1. :( I've decided once that date hits, I'll take a break from therapy to see how I handle things...

Some good news: after my trainers worked with injured me during just one class, my muscle feels better! At the earliest, I'll be boxing again next Monday, but I don't want to push it.

*Y'all, I seriously forgot what a strained muscle felt like. I haven't had one since high school...possibly middle school. Then, I worked out every day and usually didn't get sore/strained. With boxing, I only work out twice a week and I still get sore after EVERY class.

not really a post

But kind of a post...

I just want to say: let's have a discussion.

I don't want to be the only one yapping here. Yes, it is my blog, but let's talk about things together.

I think it's lovely since starting my blog I've gotten so many emails, facebook messages, and texts about what I write.

That's awesome, but let's share here (or in real life)!

I had an amazing conversation at my book club the previous Friday, after I posted my last blog.

We talked about what I wrote, why I felt the way I did, the dangerous implications in the linked blog's story, etc.

Most people have never been in an abusive relationship (thank goodness), so there is a lot of misunderstanding. It's easy to ask things like, "Why didn't you just leave?" or think you would be "strong enough" to not ever get in a situation like I was. (Sorry, but no one is immune! It's scary, but true.)

I was so excited to discuss. I want that to happen more.

Do you have questions about what I post? Whether personal or hypothetical, I don't mind answering. Did you have the same or a completely different experience when faced with the same things? Let's talk about it!

(This is why I post my blog on facebook and twitter, for crying out loud! I know you read it. This isn't just something I planned on sharing with my BFFs. I want people outside my closest circle of friends to learn something new, to not be afraid, to not feel alone.)

So, my readers, what do you want to know? Ask? Declare?

Let's get educated. Let's talk about it.

PS - This isn't a cry for more comments; I couldn't care less. Your emails and texts mean the world to me BUT, I think it would be helpful for all the other readers if we had our discussions there. :) It's so nice to see when there is another person (or people) besides the blogger that has questions/issues/encouragement.

abuse and the good girl

TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE

I probably shouldn't be angry-blogging, but I can't help it. (Excuse the language I use.)
This is gonna be a big one, and you're going to read more about me than you wanted to know.

I am a good girl, a goody-goody. I always have been. So, when I read this blog post, I cried.

That is not a beautiful story about redemption, that is a story about sexual assault, abuse, and victim-blaming.

***

A couple of weeks after we started dating, my ex and I were laying down, watching TV. He put his hand on my side, and then down inside my pants.

I squirmed. "Don't touch me there."

"Don't touch me there!" he mocked, and kept his hand there, and even slid it in further.

Things escalated.

A little over a month into our relationship, we were kissing and he kept trying to touch my chest. He was on top of me. I pushed him away. I pushed him away again. And again. And again and again and again. He wouldn't stop; he got more aggressive until I gave in.

He later told me it was the best birthday present ever, like I gave it to him freely.
He's on top of the world...and I can't stop crying for 48 straight hours.

He grabbed my hand and shoved it down his pants.

He would whine and pout when I wouldn't do something he wanted.

He "needed" naked pictures or videos, but then I wasn't "naked enough"/"naked for long enough" in them.

He got cranky when I wouldn't dirty talk and when I told him I didn't like the language he was using (vulgar names for female genitalia, etc.).

There were several times that he'd try to get me to drink more than I wanted to because he knew that would make me inebriated; it was harder for me to resist or say no.

Instead of being nice for the sake of just being nice, there were always ulterior motives.
For one Valentine's Day, he did some very sweet things, but it was overshadowed by the fact that he kept repeating throughout the night, "This is gonna make you so horny." (EW!)

There was even a time that I thought I might be raped.

We were laying around, watching TV, and he said out of nowhere, "Lemme put it in your butt."

"NO!" I cried, disgusted.

"Why...?" he whined.

"Because...I don't want any of you inside of me...anywhere."

"But WHY?!" he kept asking me.

I said no a few more times, and then he jumped on top of me and held my arms. I had been laying on my stomach; he was now on my back. I was terrified. I squirmed vigorously to get out from under him. He was laughing...and I was not.
(Nothing happened and he let me go, but it was fucking SCARY. And you know what? The only reason why he never asked about having vaginal intercourse is because that was not a Christian thing to do. HAHAHA! Everything else in his mind was fair game and not "real sex.")

Any time I planned on seeing him, I would literally pray to God that I would have the courage and strength to say "no" to his advances. He would so often whittle me down that I didn't know what else to do. (I have sob-inducing prayer journal entries where I relentlessly scribbled out these requests.)

***

As Dianna commented on the above linked blog post, "A simple rule of thumb in sexual relationships is this: 'A yes is only a yes if a no is possible.' In the situation, as you’ve painted it, a no wasn’t possible – this guy, whom she presumably liked, whittled down her courage and her ability to stand up for herself until she eventually just said, 'Oh all right.' That’s not active participation in a sexual relationship – that is coercive and abusive. And yet, somehow, the person who needs to ask for forgiveness…is the girl? Because she gave a coerced, unwilling, affirmative answer to a boy who should not have been pressuring her in the first place? That’s really messed up and blames the victim of an abusive relationship for the abuse that took place. [...] Maybe if she’d gone to a church where she could know that what happened to her was actually assault and abuse, and not her fault..."

If you are being abused, YOU LOSE YOUR DAMN MIND.
I didn't know how to be me; I was scared. I acted how I thought my ex wanted me to act, how I was trained. I was trained to give in, trained to be sexy and wanting, trained to act like someone else.

THAT IS NOT ME.

My even ex told me that I was responsible for 40-50% of what happened to me, even though I was ALWAYS the one to say stop or no, always the one to draw the line.

Alleyne commented, "[Ours] is a culture that encourages those abuses, by failing, over and over, to focus on them, while simultaneously blaming victims for not being strong enough to withstand attacks they should never have had to face to begin with. Fallen. Unpure. Loss of innocence. In sin. Backslidden. Out of grace. Far from salvation.

This is the church’s particularly odious and spiritually devastating spin on rape culture. This is how souls are torn to shreds.

'This story wasn’t about the boy.'

No, of course it wasn’t. It never is. And that’s why this story keeps being told over and over and over again.

How many more men will have their sin glazed over as if 'sexual sin' (when it actually exists) doesn’t take two people?" (Emphasis mine.)

I went along for WAY too long thinking that everything that happened to me was my fault because I "gave in." That is faulty thinking. I was manipulated and controlled and coerced and guilted. SUBMISSION is not CONSENT.
You surrender all responsibility as soon as someone lays a hand on you.

SO, if my story is similar to the girl's story on the other blog, do you think she needs to ask for forgiveness or be shamed for her "sins?"

NO.

She needs people to love her, give her grace, and help her recover from a travesty placed upon her by someone else.

Let's stop victim-blaming and instead teach people how not to abuse others.

cutesy cute

I'm going to tell a story about Chris, so if you don't want a puddle in your chest where your heart used to be, you can leave now!

I am* really terrible at making decisions. I wasn't really given the opportunity to make a lot of them in my past relationship, and outside of that, I'm always afraid of making the WRONG one.

Chris figured this out by my constant response of "I don't care!" to his "What do you want for dinner?" "Which one do you like better?" "What do you want to do today?" God forbid he hand me the remote to the TV - TOO MANY OPTIONS AND THEY'RE ALL WRONG.

One day, we were in a grocery store together shopping for dinner, and he asked me if I wanted wine and/or dessert.

(Obligatory.) "I don't care."

"No, really. What would you like? Either one or both?"

"I don't care."
"No, you pick."
"But, I don't care!"

He stared at me.

"Then," he said, as he squatted to sit cross-legged in the middle of the aisle with our basket as other shoppers walked by, "I won't get up until you make a decision."

AHHHH simultaneous swoon and wave of anxiety!

"I don't KNOW!" I exclaimed, leaning my head back to project the last word onto the ceiling.

Writhing with uncertainty, I don't remember how long it took me to make a decision (It felt like forever...), but I finally said no. He rose from the floor upon hearing my choice, and we continued shopping. Normal.

GOOD NEWS: Since I've started my therapy, I have been so much better about making decisions! There are some things that I will deflect to him, but overall, I'm becoming more me. :) I have OPINIONS and they're not bad! They're just...opinions.

*I'm working on WAS instead of AM. I'm more towards the WAS now!

some good news

Chris and I are back together. :)

(My therapist gave me a high-five when I told her!)

It's been a long, weird, unexpected road, but I'm so thankful for it.

Like I've mentioned, we have both learned a lot about ourselves and we've learned a lot about our relationship - what it is and what we want it to be.

Exciting!

I know I kind of took a detour with this blog when Chris broke up with me - from anxiety/mental health issues to grieving/dealing with a breakup, but it's all part of it, I guess!

This in no way means that my anxiety is alleviated...I will just find something else to freak out about (although now I have tools to battle no matter what anxiety tends to be thrown my way).

When I no longer wanted to focus on my weight and decided to get help for my eating disorder years ago, I found different things about me weren't good enough instead – my hair, my skin, my teeth, my FINGERNAILS. Yep, seriously.

If I listen to anxiety, I will never be good enough.

The things that are already swirling in my head include: conversations Chris and I have to have about engagment/marriage and possibly moving to Knoxville, my dermatologist appointment in a week, a dentist appointment in two weeks, money to pay for extra things I have to do, etc.

(I wonder where I'd be right now if I never went to therapy, even though it's been a mere four months...)

For now, I'm going to enjoy the rain and lightning from my bedroom window as I drift off to sleep. Goodnight!

I'm proud of you.

Chris and I are going through a pre-engagment book together. We're almost finished; I actually borrowed it from a friend a long time ago, but it fell victim to Chris & my laziness. :)

I brought the book along when we went to Florida to watch the second-to-last shuttle launch over a year ago. After claiming our spot on the windy dock in the NASA park, I walked back to the rental car to dig the book out of my bag. We had a couple hours before the launch was supposed to start, so Chris had suggested we start reading/discussing.

As soon as I sat down next to him, book in hand, the voice on the raspy intercom told us that the launch had been scrapped. So, I closed the book and instead cried. (I was obviously upset. I love space!)

After arriving back in Texas, I set the book on a shelf, untouched for several months. It then disappeared into a moving box, which was placed, unopened, in a closet.

Lazy, lazy, lazy!

Anyway, we started it again a few weeks ago. (Progress! Change! Un-laziness!)

One of the questions we went over last night was, "In what ways are you proud of your significant other?"

The first thing I thought about was how I was NOT proud of, nor did I respect, my last boyfriend.

I remember, in 2007, sitting in the pew of a beautiful church watching two of my friends get married. Part of the bride's vows included how much she respected her almost-husband. Listening to all the wonderful things she was saying about him, I started to cry.

I did NOT respect my current boyfriend. I was not proud of him. I was not proud to be with him. (That realization was the first of many steps backward away from him.)

Anyway, I told Chris about that, and then how I feel the complete opposite about him; I am proud of him for just about EVERYTHING. I respect him. I want to compliment him. I like to talk about him when I go out to dinner with friends.

When I was with him, I was proud to be his girlfriend. He didn't embarrass me, didn't say I was dressed like a whore (Yep, that happened.), didn't put down my friends, didn't hold me back from pursuing dreams or accomplishing goals...

What a breath of fresh air.

PS - For you nosy people, Chris and I are not back together (yet); we're still working through some stuff, and it's been good!

I care what you think

...and I shouldn't.

Well, I should care what you think to a point. I should be considerate, but I need to stop putting my needs & happiness on hold to "keep the peace." ("Keeping the peace" being my personal perception about what peace should be...which is a little distorted.)

I am not responsible for other people's emotions or reactions. (My therapist keeps reminding me of this.) I should not alter what I need to say or do for the mere possibility not everyone will react positively.

I'm incredibly empathetic. I get sad when you are sad. I hurt when you hurt. I want so badly for you to be happy, to have good things happen to you, to feel joy...but to the extreme that I will put my own needs aside to make that happen.
That is NOT healthy.

It's the reason I stayed in an abusive relationship when I should have left immediately, but I didn't want to "hurt his feelings." (Ugh.)

Chris and I have had several talks over the past 3-4 weeks. They have been good. Great, in fact. I am happy.
There is change. There is growth.

But.

I'm battling this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach because what will people think?

Will they think it's stupid of me to get back together with someone who has broken up with me twice? Will they think we're making decisions too fast? Do they think we're not thinking (or praying) about it at all?

I've cast judgement on the couple I thought moved too fast towards marriage. I've made fun of the couple that has broken up and gotten back together 5 times. I don't want to be the one on the other side.*

The funny thing is, no one has been anything but loving and supportive of me and of us, so why would I have anxiety about these things? Why should I care how people may (or may not!) react?

I shouldn't.

*Now, I do not condone breaking up and getting back together if there is no change in either person or in the relationship as a whole. Obviously, you broke up for a reason! But, if there is change, that's a different story. Not every couple is the same. This is not a Disney movie, people!