Away Message: Out to Life

I stopped posting here last year when I realized, after some honest introspection, that it was definitely dragging me down. I wanted to reach out to you and others who might have been in the same place I was. And as much as I loved talking to so many of you, I'm afraid I still need to limit the amount of doses of this poison that I encounter. While I've successfully avoided relapse, I can still smell my face in the toilet when I read these blogs, and I don't want my mind to dwell there ever again. It was another life ago, and I'm at peace now.

Since last year it looks like a lot of you have stopped posting. I may pop back from time to time, but for now I'll be leaving the parting message from my first post as my "away message."

I hope someone can find strength, courage and possibly even healing in my words, which is why I'm leaving this blog up.

If you'd like to contact me, please feel free to comment below and then e-mail me privately at TheKateofSpades@gmail.com. (But you'll need to leave a comment for me to go check the e-mail.) I will regularly receive and respond to any genuine comments or questions. But like I said, I'll otherwise not be lurking around the pro-ana community. You may find me without realizing it, blogging about my new life somewhere else.

I wish you peace.

Kat

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Tonight: Project Crazy Unfolds

Tonight is the night.

I'm going to do it... I'm going to pole dance in front of a live audience for the first time in my life.

I'm ready... I've trained a year for this. I even got my drop back/handstand at the dress rehearsal Wednesday, despite my back injury.

Think of me today:

Around 5pm I'm going to start putting on the full makeup, silver smokey eyes, glittery faux lashes... this is the real deal.

6pm

The waiting, the waiting, the waiting... I'm going to throw back a corona light with the girls to calm my nerves. I'll be getting dressed - sequined booty shorts, stilettos...

7pm

Guests start arriving. The house will be full.

7:30pm

Lights are down. The show begins... group routine with all 10 of us... followed by my girls...one by one.

8:15pm

Blastoff. :)

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Project Crazy - 9 Days Left

It dawned on me, as I sweated and twirled and flipped in the pole studio until 10pm last night, that I might not get one of my best tricks down pat before the show next Friday. Ugh.

At a pivotal moment in the song (I am doing "Monster" by Lady Gaga), I do this awesome spinny climb, then a backwards layout, and then I drop back, upside down, holding on to the pole with nothing but the tops of my feet and my shins. (I know, it sounds impossible, but trust me, my body acts like a counter weight and it works - it's pretty flippin' cool when done gracefully.) At that point, I slide down the pole (upside down) into a handstand and kick down. Mind you, I am supposed to do all of this in my 6.5" stilettos.

Last night I lost my steam spiraling up the pole and didn't even make it to the drop back. Twice. I'm not sure what happened, but I can only assume it's because i'm feeling so physically worn out from all of the training. As I drove home, I was sorting out a lot of awful emotions - envisioning myself failing to climb the pole and imagining judgmental onlookers thinking that it was because I was too heavy. It's ridiculous, of course, but Ana still takes every opportunity to put those thoughts in my mind...

I've always been a bit of a perfectionist, which Ana has always told me coordinates with her outfits perfectly. A trim of perfection - to be the best - to strike awe into others...

The thought of not being perfect - of not being the best - made me falter for a moment and wonder if I should back out of the performance. I had plenty of excuses I could give - what with my back strain and my injured knee...

But no. I remembered that this is exactly what Ana does to me. She keeps me from living. She keeps me from doing amazing things - good things that I want to do. She tells me that if I'm not perfect, it's not worth doing...I'm not worth being. But it's not true. I'm doing this for me, and I'm doing it for you. And I would never do it if I left it up to Ana.

I'm doing this for the little girls inside of us who skipped fun outings with our friends at the pool on days that we felt fat or weren't comfortable in our own, beautiful skin. This body is my home, and not my enemy. Perfection is my enemy. And if I don't get my drop back, then I don't get it. But I'm not going to let Ana's perfectionistic mirages take this night away from me.

Cheers - 9 days to go!

xoxo

Kate

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Project Crazy

I've thought of you every day, but my own necessity kept me away - I needed some time, like earlier this year, to recuperate. I read your blogs, and I can't not cry. You feel trapped in your words and say things like "it's been hard" or talk about how exhausted, angry, hurt you are by what is happening to you... but the words don't really do it justice, do they? They just look like complaints on the page, as if you were writing about something trivial that happened on a bad day at school. But it's so much more than that and the pain runs too deep, too complex, and too confused. I know. It's hard being here again, on these blogs, and it can be a bit emotionally exhausting for me because I can't numb myself to your pain. I know it too well. Wouldn't things be easier if we were all numb! But, I suppose, on the flipside, if we were numb, we would miss all of the beauty.

But I did want to tell you about my project crazy:

I'm going to be performing, in two weeks, in a pole dancing show. I've been training for a year - and my tricks are pretty darn cool. But I never thought I'd be able to get up on stage and do something like this. But my body is strong, and I've been enjoying learning what I can do with my body instead of to my body. I've only cried a few times. :) I'm scared! But I want to do this. I'm ready for this. So, think of me next Friday. I'll be in booty shorts and stilettos, and I'll be thinking of each of you - praying that one day your mind will be able to accept how beautiful you truly are, rather than how beautiful you will be one day...one illusive day.

xoxo

Kate

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The Big Lie

[Eavesdropping on a typical conversation between Ana and I, years ago]:

Me: “Ana, I’m sick of this. I just want to be happy. Sometimes I just wish I could eat and be normal.”

Ana: “By normal do you mean fat? You can’t be happy if you let yourself get fat. You’ve tried eating. You always come back.”

Me: “I know… but lots of people have normal and even large bodies, and somehow manage to be happy. Isn’t that possible?”

Ana: “Do you think you could be?”

Me: “No. I guess I never will.”

Ana. “See. Stick with me and you’ll be thin.”

Me: [Sobbing] “Maybe I should go into therapy or get some help.”

Ana: “You’re not skinny enough yet. You’re not at your goal weight. You're not sick enough until you lose a few more pounds. You can’t go into therapy looking fat.”

Me: “You’re right. I’m too fat for help.”

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Where is Della Shadows?

Girls,

I'm so sad because I haven't been able to find Della. We were e-mailing and profile disapeared and her e-mail address was deleted. Does anyone know how to reach her? :'(

I'm so sad.

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Fasting?

This week was the beginning of Lent.

Since I grew up in a religious family, Ana and I used to use any excuse to fast. It was like a free day without any pressure – no one expected me to eat, so there was no pressure to pretend.

Fasting has presented a much greater challenge since I went into recovery.

Here is the understatement of the year: I’m in a much different place spiritually and mentally than I was back then. I’ve changed faiths for starters. I broke off my friendship with Ana and Mia.

But I really wanted to participate in the season of lent this year. The idea is to give up something you really like (often a favorite food) and focus on growing spiritually and praying. It’s also traditional to fast on the first day of lent.

On Ash Wednesday this week, I decided to give fasting another go. A few hours in – the familiar feelings. The hunger pangs I used to look forward to and consider a success. The oh-so-familiar taste in my own mouth. The blurry disconnect. It was all so easy. So familiar. I slipped it on like a favorite, old pair of jeans.

But you know, I think the scars run too deep. I did that for too long to have a good mindset about it.

While I didn’t feel the need to relapse this time, I couldn’t help but start seeing the world the way I used to. Seeing food as poison, noticing others’ weakness for eating, and feeling a little worthless.

I floated down the aisle at Ash Wednesday service in a blur. The priest placed the ashes on my forehead saying, “Remember, O man, that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.” This reminds me that my life is just a breathe – a moment in time that is passing

I’m playing my own body guard now, and I’ve decided that it’s not safe for me to fast from food. In a way, I think I’m becoming a better body guard to my own recovery – learning things that put me in harms way and avoiding them – even if it does make people judge. I don’t think I really should ever let my guard down. Recovery is not a state of being, it is a daily journey.

I think next time Ash Wednesday rolls around, I’ll be fasting from something non-food related like TV or the internet. Probably I’ll go for something that puts a little more silence in my life.

I’m just not there. And that’s okay.

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