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

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 

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

There Was Once A Jewish Girl

There was a Jewish girl. Born with the light of Shabbat candles in her eyes. She went to Sunday school and could tell you the alphabet backwards and forwards. She could read in her people's native tongue. She never knew what she was reading. But that didn't matter. She could pronounce the words and sounds. After awhile, Sunday school became something to dread and her friends were just pulling her for the ride. She forgot how to read and the words no longer formed delicately in her mouth. Fast forward a few years. The girl has her Bat Mitzvah. Everyone is so proud. But why? Did they know what she had read? Did they understand the importance of those ancient words? Or were they simply happy that she made it through to the words "Thank you"? She'd never know. The day after, she swears off Judaism. She's done. There's nothing interesting and her love for it was long gone. Fast forward a few more years and she's in high school and running for board of the youth group out of her old synagogue. She wonders every day how she got there. Why she's there. Senior year and she's president of the group. Everyone is so proud of her. But the questions and comments she gets are not about the Judaism or politics. They are about how it will look to colleges. If it affect school. Flash forward. This time just a month. She's now been to Israel and back. She fell in love with the holy land and seeing the Shabbat candles glow. Her story feels as if it has come full circle. But nobody at home asks about how it affected her religious stance. Or what those candles felt like. They ask about the views and the partying and the wars. Why. Why she wonders. Don't they care about the beauty of the people? Don't they wonder about why religion is so pretty despite the destruction it is causing? Come into the present. The same Jewish girl feels awkward and out of place in her religion. She wants to return to Israel but doesn't know how. It's expensive to find herself. There's something missing from her life. She's beginning to wonder what can be seen in Shabbat candles. Maybe it is time for all of us to look closer in the flames. 

Sometimes we find ourselves multiple times over. 

Stay Strong 

xo Aria

You Will Never Understand

You will never understand this. The feeling of belonging somewhere else. The feeling of losing yourself because you can't get back there. The feeling of knowing you aren't home. The feeling that something else is out there. The feeling that nobody cares because they only see what's on the surface. The feeling of being so misunderstood. I don't want to run away. I want to run home. Run to where I felt at peace. Where I felt happy. Where I felt like myself. I will never be healthy,not truly, until I feel at one with myself. I need you to try to understand that my heart is far far away and so is home for me. My heart lies away from here. And one day I will come back. Because I have a home here. But it will never be where I feel AT home. You have to let me fly. Let me spread my wings. Go where I need to be. You were just like me once. Needing to go. Be where you loved. Give me the same freedom. I will always come back. Always. But give me the chance to choose when that is. Until you can internalize and try to understand this feeling...You Will Never Understand Me. 

My heart lies in Israel

Stay Strong

xo Aria

Why You Should Date a Gymnast

Date a gymnast. She knows how to combine power and grace in the perfect proportion. She will help you see what it means to have a dynamic personality. A gymnast is taught how to have respect for authority without being walked on. She has had to stand up for herself and realize that nobody is listening to what she says. But knows to keep talking until someone hears. She has had spent years learning to push herself out of comfort zones. She has goals and aspirations and wants. But most importantly, she will fight for those wants. Including you. A gymnast strives for perfection and will not accept anything less than what she deserves. She knows what she deserves. Nobody is gifted anything in this sport. She has seen defeat and frustration and has had to pick herself up off the floor as quickly as a human can. Except gymnasts aren't normal humans. They know that each time they land incorrectly is just setting them up for a better finish the next time. Success is earned. In and out of the gym. She will tell you over and over that everything she knows she learned in the gym. From her teammates, coaches and even through watching those on different teams. Best of all, she's learned from watching herself fall short. From a young age the gymnast is taught responsibility and discipline. If she forgets something for practice? That's her problem. She has a school dance on the same day as a meet? Too bad.  She made a commitment. Self-discipline is at the core of this sport. She knows how to keep herself focused. How to fight for her dreams. And how to do the right thing when nobody is watching. So no. Do not date a gymnast because she is flexible or because she can have push-up contests with you. Date a gymnast because she will never leave unless you give her a reason. She's a hard worker and has persevered. And her highs are higher than anyone else's could ever be. 

Gymnasts are super human. 

Stay Strong

xo Aria 

Recovery Means to Grieve

First off, I know it's been forever. I feel like there wasn't anything to say. But now I think about it...I have a lot. I've been back in treatment and it's been a pretty good experience. Minus some major self harm urges that I wasn't expecting. And of course hitting my goal weight was super hard. However, I have some great tidbits of advice for you guys that learned from one of my favorite staff members. 

One of the first things she ever said to me was : recovery is a process of grieving. Let yourself mourn. I thought she was crazy. I mean, I didn't die? But the more she explained, the more sense it made. I was okay not acting on behaviors because I didn't feel like I was losing something. I figured I could always go back. It would always be there, like a ghost. Which meant I could never fully move on. However, once I accepted that it was going away and began to let myself go through the mourning process, only then would true recovery begin. There would be no turning back. 

The next thing she said was: everyone is a failure or everyone defines success in their own way. At first I was super confused. There's only one way to be successful and that's to be perfect. But after finishing the discussion, she might be right. Because nobody can get everything right. You're going to fail at something. And it's possible that your entire life will look like a failure to other people. But as long as you feel successful then that's all that matters. 

The final thing she said is that sometimes you are handed a second chance for a reason. Maybe you are meant to start all over and see what can come. Not everyone has the chance to reevaluate everything so take the opportunity. 

I'm sorry I haven't been around. I've missed blogging so so much. 

"Here's to days that turned into nights with friends that turned into family"

Stay Strong 

xo Aria