Thursday 23 July 2015

Time To Be Transparent


I never thought I would write this. But I guess this could be good for me. There are things I need to tell people about myself. Beware. All the walls are coming down. 

I do put on a wonderful front. It has a purpose. That way nobody can hurt me and I can't be disappointed. If I pretend that everything is ok, then life is ok. It takes away the need for emotion. I hate crying. I find it creates vulnerability and I don't like that. This my first time really being single since 7th grade and it's terrifying. Maybe that's a good thing. But I'm not sure. I know my obsession with exercise is unhealthy. I just can't seem to stop. I only worked out for 45 minutes today AND got injured but I still feel guilty because I'm allowed to work out more than that. I constantly feel like nobody hears me. And that makes me not want to share. Why share if nobody wants to hear it. School terrifies me. I can't focus and when I read, I mix up letters and words. Which makes textbooks SO hard and reading out loud makes me want to vomit. My anxiety causes me to feel sick and like I'm having a heart attack. It's the worst. I want to lose weight so badly right now.But I won't. I can't keep going in and out of treatment. That I know. I'm so scared of finding out who I am. What if I'm a horrendous person that nobody likes. I don't tell people when I get hurt. I never have. When I was little and would get a cut, I would run to my room and hide it from my parents. Once I bled for an hour. When I sprain my ankle, I don't wear braces. I don't like to be seen as less than perfect. I was bullied too long for that. I was the girl in middle school who people put notes on her locker calling her a whore. I'll never forget that. I pretend to be stupider than I am. It works for me. People never think I'm smart. It's just not a thing. Which is probably good. I love gymnastics with all my heart. But there is definitely a part of me that wants to leave the leotards behind. That's normal. Judaism is so important to me. Like ridiculously. Not sure why. 


That's all I've got for now. 

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Margo. Roth. Spiegelman.

Margo is the main character of John Green's novel Paper Towns. If I'm going to be honest, I didn't totally understand the paper metaphor when I read the book. But now after seeing the movie, I understand the metaphor and Margo Roth Spiegalman more than I ever thought possible. Because just like her, I'm a paper girl. I'm not real. People think they know who I am. They've constructed this image of me in their heads and that's who they see. But it's not who I am. I don't think. I don't even really know who I am. I feel like I've spent so long pretending to be someone that others created. A girl that I don't even know anymore. Maybe Margo was right. Sometimes you just have to run away and figure it out. I don't know if I'd physically run away. Granted, I'd love to actually find an adventure or have an idea and just follow it. I love uncertainty. Maybe you can run away without a bus ticket though. Maybe you just have to get away from the things that make you , you. Find new friends, new hobbies, new places to go. Let go of one identity and run away to another one. One that isn't paper. I don't know if I'll ever find my W or my Agloe but I sure hope I have the chance to make some non-paper memories along the way. 

We are all Margo. 

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Monday 20 July 2015

Why I Hate Dietitians (part 2?)

I'm like 90% sure I wrote something like this on my original blog. So let's go with part two. The fun part is that this one is about a different dietitian! Woohoo! Anyway on the point of this post. So, the dietitian that I am currently seeing in treatment and I are definitely on different pages. But like the problem is that I don't think she trusts anything I say. And she definitely isn't a fan of gymnastics. Not shocking. But still. Like my weight has gone up MORE since being here. And that wasn't even necessary. If anything I could lose weight and be ok. The last thing I need to lose my ability to exercise. Especially since it helps me deal with emotions. I don't know. Plus like I don't need to drink liquids. I choose not to and I'm ok. Granted I've been like crazy dizzy lately. That's a secret between me and you my faithful readers. I honestly think that she thinks I'm playing her. Like when I asked about the point of water. Or when I talk about how I grew up learning about exercise. Like I don't use exercise machines. I didn't even know they showed calories until that time I went to crossfit. I just. I don't know how to say the things without being judged by her. Which is a big reason I have friends with eating disorders because when I say those things, there is no judgement. 


Just accept that you can't change how people view you. 

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Update: I'm literally an emotional mess and it's midnight and I'm crying. So here's hoping they don't make me talk during program tomorrow. 

Tuesday 14 July 2015

Does Pain Exist.

Tonight at practice I did a lovely job of splitting the beam and tearing up the back of my legs. Like sitting is uncomfortable. But I got up and finished the last 1.5 hours of practice. Eventually my legs went numb. No big deal. When I told my non-gymnast friend, she asked why I didn't just sit down and leave. And that just doesn't make sense to me. You fall, you get up. Conditioning makes you cry? Sucks. I don't know. Maybe I just don't feel pain anymore. Or maybe it feels like positive thing. Pain isn't a deterrent. So does it even exist? Like I don't feel pain from my legs. I just feel discomfort to be pushed through. Honestly, not worried that my thighs were bleeding. More concentrated with having to sit at treatment tomorrow on this. 

Maybe pain is just a figment of our imagination. 

Stay Strong 
xo Aria

Update: I cried in the shower. Still. Could be worse. 

Saturday 11 July 2015

"Sick" Clothes

I have piles of them. Hangers full of them. Cabinets stuffed with them. All of my "sick" clothes. Clothes that have followed me in and out of treatment stays. Clothes that I bought while there. Clothes that I can't bring myself to wear anymore unless I feel like being tortured. Tonight o decided to bag them up. Get rid of them. One problem. I don't have anywhere for them to go. My best friend wants to go through and keep some. And I said okay. But the idea of seeing them for her and look good on her makes me nauseous. I don't know what to do anymore. Someone help? 

Get rid of the things that hold you back. 

Stay Strong
xo Aria

Wednesday 8 July 2015

PASTA

Okay. Pasta will be what kills me. Today in treatment was like a pack your own lunch. And I thought I could handle pasta. And I ate it. But holy anxiety. Growing up a gymnast pretty much puts certain foods off limits. Especially high carb items. In early high school, my friends and I would go out for pasta after practice as a form of rebellion. Looking back it wasn't all that rebellious. But it sure felt like it. So, now there is pasta in me and I'm not practicing tonight. Which may be a good thing considering they could probably see the pasta in me. I just. Want. To. Work. Out. But I am so freaking tired. 


I don't know what to do. Do I work out? Do I not? Do I ever eat pasta again? 

Sometimes the aftermath is the worst part. 

Stay Sateong
xo Aria

Tuesday 7 July 2015

My Sport is Weird

"They call us the survivors of our sport because it pushes you to your physical and mental limits. "

Gymnastics is such a weird sport. It teaches you to push through crazy pain. It teaches you to question how certain people's bodies do this sport. It teaches you that your body isn't yours. It belongs to the sport. To your gym. When you're little you cry through conditioning and then laugh about it because it's normal. When it's older you no longer cry but after is for complaining. Your body is tired. Your mind is tired. Has practice ALWAYS been this long?!? The answer is yes. It just seemed shorter. Things were easier. It was all for fun. Now it's a question of whether or not to hang up your leotard. But you know you won't. What else would you be doing? How else would you have time for yourself. How would you exercise. How would you live. The younger girls are surpassing you in skill but you're too poud of them to walk around feeling bad for yourself. That's for after practice chats. 

The weirdest part is here I am at 11 PM eating snack because o at the gym from 5-830. And I should be focusing on my gym accomplishments but my only thoughts are about that I didn't even practice for an hour of it because a friend and I were talking. I didn't even work out enough to justify this food. 


Gymnastics isn't a sport. It's a lifestyle

Stay Strong. 

Xo Aria 


Monday 6 July 2015

Recovery...Does it exist?

The first time I went into treatment, in 2011, a staff member told me that I would never recover. That I would be a chronic case. I wanted so badly not to believe them. But now, 4 years later, I'm on my fifth stint in treatment. My second this summer. And I'm starting to realize they were right. Here I am. A chronic, albeit failing, anorexic. I mean seriously I've been out for a month and haven't lost a single pound. That's the worst thing I can imagine and it's true. Like I just don't know anymore. Part of me is pretty convinced that by now I'm just kinda a hopeless case. I have everything in the world. Except a normal home life. But more on that later. Meanwhile, I just can't seem to like myself. And obviously suck at feeding myself. I don't even know where this rant is going. I guess...I've lost my sight on recovery. Or the lack of its existence. 


Onto a new topic. My family. My brother is going nuts. He freaks out about everything. And hits things. And threw his phone at the window and broke it. Then he climbed into the car trunk. And then he jumped out of the car, it was stopped , and ran away. So, needless to say, my treatment is definitely not first priority. Hence why I drag friends to support groups and not family members. It's not worth the effort. 

At least my July 4th was decent though. My friend and I spent all day together and made blue cupcakes. I even ate pancakes. And yet I question why I haven't lost weight. Wow. My life is a joke. 


Don't bother reading into any of this. Some things are just surface level. 

Stay Strong 
xo Aria