Being Honest (Or, The Hardest Thing To Do)

Warning: This is the longest rant EVER and I will completely understand if you want to skip this post. I promise, more interesting things are coming but sometimes, honesty rants are necessary!;)

I am sitting here and I want to say a billion things but I have no idea how to say any of them. I’ve been avoiding blogging for that very reason. Yes, I’ve been busy. But I’ve had moments where I could have sat down and written a blog post. So, why haven’t I?

Because for all my talk about being honest and vulnerable, it still incredibly hard for me to put into practice. Because I’m still trying to figure everything out myself my feelings, my thoughts, my experiences that it seemed impossible to write about it. And besides, who wants to hear about an anxious, depressed, and completely confused teenage girl?

But I need to write. I need to get it all out and be honest, not just with other people, but with myself (and damn, that’s a hard thing to do!)

So first, recovery.

The fact is, what I am doing right now is not “recovery” or, at least, not the kind of recovery I want. I broke down in a grocery store yesterday like a five-year old, my dietitian appointments are not enough, there are no therapists (at least no good ones or ones that we can afford), I’m anxious and obsessive, and downright hopeless.

I know, deep down, that I need to gain weight. Not a lot but gain nonetheless. And I am so scared that I will never feel better. That this thing, this disease, will always be apart of me. I want to be free of it but I am stuck. What else can I do? I went to a treatment center, I’ve been to therapy, and I’m still eating much more than I was during the worst of it.

But I have so many mental blocks and try as I might, I can’t get past them. I still have the same fears, irrational as they may be, and it frustrates me to no end.

So what do I do? No matter how I look at the situation, there seems no way out. Either I stop myself internally or there is some external factor stopping me from pushing forward.

Which leads me to family and finances.

Can I just say I am so tired of poverty? I am tired of worrying about everyday things that nobody should have to worry about. Food, bills, housing, clothes. And then, if I do rant and complain, I feel ungrateful. I should be content and I should be thankful that we have gotten so much help, a lot more than most people. And I am grateful. But is it wrong that I want to be able to go into a store and buy whatever I need and, God forbid, want without a glance at the price tag?

Is it wrong that I want to live in a big enough house and I want my little sisters to have their own pink, frilly, princess room?

Is it wrong that I want to be able to celebrate birthdays and buy presents and a cake?

And is it wrong that I am so angry at my dad for starting business after business after business and refusing to get a “regular” job and therefore putting us all through this?

I don’t know. Maybe it is.

And than there’s my papa (uncle) who’s having surgery on Thursday. It doesn’t look good and logically I know that but I haven’t really processed it. It shouldn’t be that hard. After all, he’s 83, he’s lived a good, long life. But I am selfish and I don’t want to give him up, as if I can control it.

Wow, that was the longest rant known to mankind. I will probably delete it later but let me tell you, it felt good to get it all out!

Good night (yes, I am writing this at 11:30 p.m… is anyone really shocked??),

-Sarah