no one can help if you choose to stay stuck, and frankly, honesty is in short supply these days. not because we’re bad, or ridiculous, but because we’ve forgotten to trust - trust ourselves. that’s the key, the missing ingredient, to everything. how to make impossible, possible.

when I was lost in the chaos of an eating disorder, miserable and depressed, it wasn’t because I hadn’t tried. I’d tried dozens of things, but nothing worked. not even god. god didn’t help at all. of course, I didn’t think god was on my side. I believed god was maybe on your side, but not on my side. that’s how deep a wound can cut, and how deep the lies we tell ourselves, day after day.

doubled up with cold, in a dreary, woolen coat i’d wound around me twice, i sat numbly in front of the dietician, in a psych ward, surrounded by the drug infested playground that was Langley Porter hospital. I knew I was there because I was useful to them, for a new drug trial they wanted, which I wanted no part of- but they’d no use for that part of the equation.

when she somberly explained why I wasn’t losing more weight, that my metabolism had pretty much shut down, to save me from myself, that my constant state of freezing was due to the same biological caretaker that took such good care of my body, putting energy in the few places I needed, so I wouldn’t die, that my hair falling out and everything else going wrong, that wasn’t giving me the waif like figure I thought I wanted, well, she said, that energy may be time limited.

i heard her drone on, about vitamins and nutrients, and all at once, I had a deafening realization. the state i’d put myself in had nothing to do with thin, thinnest, or prettiest. it had been my steady, desperate way I’d hoped someone might notice me. see me. really see me, and hold me, really hold me, and love me. but the thinner I got, or the fatter, the people around me kept disappearing. I was too much. too much. then I felt something, like a shockwave in my heart. the hidden hope i’d be rescued, I knew, would never happen. even if it had, I’m not sure I could’ve let anyone in. my capacity for worth was so tiny at this point, I may have fought it like a tiger.

this realization, that endless suffering and isolation would cause someone to rescue me, and no one had, was the moment I knew for certain none of this was working - it would never give me what I truly wanted.

it was then, I was done.

how do you change?

there may be pieces missing, but I don’t care… i’m back. back from the long, terrible years I lived in a pile of self help-ness, that never helped, because I could never figure out what was wrong, so i could fix it.

i’d gone to college, and quit college, and moved to Hawaii, and wanted to be a singer, and had a zillion jobs, and started and sold businesses, and got married, and had babies, and got divorced, and became penniless and homeless - then I worked triply hard to make a pile of money to hide the shame of that, and lose it all because of the shenanigans on wall street.

someone once said it was god’s money. that may be true, but still, I tried to hang on. i used every ounce of creativity and desperation I could muster, until somehow, i made things happen. banks who trusted me gave me money, at a time when no one got loans. friends loaned me money until i was able to fix and repair and sell the house that had been without windows and doors for a year, and pay it all back.

I was $1.7 million dollars in debt at the time the world was upside down in the recession, and people were losing homes front, right, and center. I was finally able to sell the house i almost lost four different times, to pay off all the money I borrowed, and then i cried. the guy who bought it told me he made as much in one commission check as i’d made from the fifteen years of hard work that got me to that point. i’m sure he meant no harm, but it cut deep.

of course, there were the bad relationships, the ones that can break you, faster than a broken economy, that really mess with your head. i left them all as well. there it is again - that same old question: why did you stay?

here’s my answer: I stayed, because i didn’t know i deserved better.

you deserve better.